#this is the first time i have simply fallen asleep during corpse time do not recommend

[kate-apologist]

just woke up from an almost five hour accidental nap, still have my contacts in, eyes hurt covered in sweat an absolutely miserable

i have forgotten what day it is, where and who i am

[stylistiquements]

The Sorcerer pt. 2

Corpse Husband x gn!reader

Reincarnation AU | Summary :

The same candle lights up on Corpse’s desk every time you are reborn and turn 23. He has been looking for you during centuries but this time you might be closer than anticipated.  {Playlist}

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝟮 : 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙤𝙣�� 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚

Being a friend is never an easy task, especially when the other person is no normal human being. When the realization reaches you it's accompanied by its own conclusions.

☾ Words : 4830.

☾ Warnings : angst, the tiniest bit of swearing (for once)

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The agitation of your eyes has fallen flat by now; Corpse had plenty of time to think -be obsessed- about it as days and night coagulated into nothing but an ultimate and meaningless node. Sleepless were the nights when he thought about you, considered what he could do to get back to you. The lack of sleep combined with the desperation and Corpse is pretty sure he wandered to every possibility he could think of before concluding that this new element wasn’t much progress. Less than 1% of global population have heterochromia, Corpse did the math. Somehow, it still isn’t enough to know where to look for.

He is just helpless. The wish is strong, unshakable and there’s always a point in those circumstances where the yearning turns into a new obsession.

He is just helpless. The wish is strong, unshakable and there’s always a point in those circumstances where the yearning turns into a new obsession.

When Corpse covers his face with a black mask, it’s an act of impulse disguised in a need to spare his own sanity. It doesn’t matter if it only makes sense to him, it’s too late to detach the thought of his brain. So, in one motion, the dark cloak waves in the air until it's secured on his shoulders. He slides the hood on his forehead. There’s really no need for Corpse to make it so ceremonial if not the responsibility he bears to carry on his body a tradition that has been lasting for centuries.

The light coming out of the sky is subdued to the right extent. The rain is delicately trickling on Corpse, turning the part of his fluffy hair that isn’t protected by the hood into damped and defined locks of curls that let droplets run on the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t mind, that’s the weather he deems to be the loveliest. It allows him to gather and sort his thoughts out. It’s his bond with the rain; as if it fueled him with enough electricity to keep going.

Corpse makes his way through the meadow. It’s not as bright as in his dreams, dipped into a light morning mist, but the place smells like fresh and humid grass. It’s intoxicating and comforting like an old memory trying to reemerge. His shoes are getting coated in mud, making every step a little tedious but he only realizes it when he comes face to face with his home and his feet are almost stuck to the ground.

By “home”, I mean what’s left of it. In that Corpse is barely able to guess the structure of it.

Fuck. How long has it been since those ruins stopped looking like his home? There’s really nothing left if not a few brick walls covered by nature that struggle to rise from the ground. Corpse wanders around, trying to remember where each room once stood in the remains. He can’t get much except for the two parts he sees when he sleeps; the kitchen made out of wooden walls and the living room he only saw once. There’s still so much left uncovered and the mystery will now keep on forever. His humble house probably witnessed a few wars in its lifetime. Corpse feels bitter just thinking about it; a home built by love and destroyed by hate.

Corpse should’ve known, he should’ve known better that what he saw in his sleep was nothing but the oniric personification of his expectations. Nothing more, maybe less. He was a fool for letting his delusions feel like reality. But there’s the intention to deny the facts when his hand brushes the air and let appear the chimera of what, to him, should’ve still been standing in front of him; the picture of his true home. A pale copy deprived of any warmth, yet still visual enough to bring some sense of easing.

Corpse’s phone vibrates in his pocket and by the time his hand reaches the device, the house is back to its miserable state.

“What do you think you’re doing right now?” Sykkuno asks and Corpse huffs, bitter smirk carved on his lips.

Sykkuno knows. In fact, he figured out that Corpse would be here when he told him about his previous dream. Sykkuno knew that Corpse would feel the need to lock himself inside the memories he couldn't even remember. It hurts, but maybe the pain would be fruitful and he would finally recollect what’s missing, one last attempt to make you seem realer. This is just how his brain works and Sykkuno is a little too aware of that.

Corpse isn’t sure of what he’s doing either anymore. He thought that it would help somehow, he could’ve almost convinced himself completely, but here he is standing in the middle of an overgrown mess he once called home. There’s nothing left in here. He understands it now by the expectation versus reality that stands in front of him.

“The answers you’re looking for aren’t here, stop torturing yourself,” Sykkuno says with a tone that is so sweet and compassionate it fills Corpse’s mouth with a melancholic taste.

But he’s wrong on one point; Corpse isn’t looking for answers, he’s looking for what questions to ask. There’s so many of them and he’s simply not sure what is important and what isn’t anymore.

“I know,” Corpse mutters.

“Go back to your place Corpse,” he murmurs softly. “This isn’t home anymore.”

So what is? Corpse spent a lifetime running away and another one trying to remember what home feels like. Maybe, if you really think about it, it’s no longer about you. Maybe Corpse just doesn’t know how to be anymore. If only it could have been written somewhere; what he’s supposed to do, how he’s supposed to feel … but there’s no guideline for that type of situation. There’s no guideline and there should be.

There’s a minute of pure robotic silence and heavy breathing. The rain is streaming down Corpse’s cloak, the cold getting closer and closer to his core.

“Alright,” he whispers numbly.

Maybe seeing this place one last time is similar enough to what closure is. Or at least that’s what Corpse hopes when he takes one last deep breath before leaving without ever looking back. What’s the point anyway?

“We’re all waiting for you, you know, so just go back to your place," Sykkuno says.

There’s really no reason for why you decided to narrate horror stories on youtube, nor to make of your appearance one of those many mysteries people love to speculate about. You wish there were something more, something meaningful, but it just stops at the fact that you’ve always felt drawn to horror and mysteries. A peculiar passion of some sort. Maybe, it shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise when you became the secret bearer you are now. Could this be your official title? You wish it could. “Y/n the secret bearer” sounds pretty badass.

It was 5:55 when your eyes opened today, just like every day. The first merciless rays of the sun in a beautiful golden and pink hued sky rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. The morning air was raspy, landing on your skin to spread shivers on your bare arms. You could have buried your face in the pillow all you wanted, with a mind wandering wherever it felt like it, there was absolutely no way you’d fall back asleep.

Corpse Husband.

Now, your filled tub spreads steam on the tiles of the bathroom. Your hands scoop the water and pour the liquid on your shoulders to warm you up. It’s a little too warm, making your heart palpitate, but it’s embracing, light and easing your body until you’re completely comfortable. The smell of coffee hits your dozing nostrils with its strong scent. You enjoy the light music that waves through your ears and clear the morning fog out of your mind. The cup meets your lips and the liquid runs on your tongue. Spicy.

Your phone, flashing white light between your palms, is displaying none of the interesting information you’re looking for. Dream hasn’t shown any sign of life in a couple of days now. In fact, he hasn’t since he entrusted you with yet another secret he kept safe inside his pocket. Who knows how many others could be hidden in there. Probably too much for you to trust humankind ever again.

Corpse Husband.

You set the device aside and, on instinct, you close your eyes before immersing your head under water, letting it swallow you whole. You attempt to regulate the flow of thoughts that congests in your head. There’s this trick Dream taught you some time ago, a trick you could use to talk to him when he was gone and you needed him. He said it should remain for emergency purposes but maybe, if the number 5 case wasn’t enough for this audience to be necessary, checking on your missing friend would be. It should be.

The vibrations from reality get filtered, blurry, and you can feel your hair floating around your head. It’s light and heavy, your heart starts beating with more vigor. Your mind recognizes the place but your body can never get used to it; it’s the void, the nothingness, the dark. A mental place that belongs to you.

There’s nothing graphic about it and when you master it with enough precision, there’s no feeling attached to it either. That's why, for someone who is so used to experiencing material life, it took time to adjust. It’s more of a concept than it is a thing.

Dream’s name echoes a few time. Usually that’s when he appears, him and his white smiley mask. Yet, this time, you’re forced to open your eyes again and catch your breath before running out of oxygen.

Where could Dream be? That’s the inquiry that ping pongs inside your brain every once in a while when he disappears as he does, leaving additional questions to live rent-free in a place that is getting more and more cramped.

You bring your knees to your chest. Being friends with someone who isn’t even human, how are you supposed to do that? You sigh; there’s no guideline and there should be. How are you supposed to handle the idea that there’s always a profuse chance that Dream might never come back? A chance, or an important possibility.

The concept of Dream’s existence seems so easy to dismantle, so fragile for someone who’s supposed to live forever. The idea leaves you powerless, a little helpless.

He never dares to explain what happens when he ventures on foreign lands -to which the purpose remains a secret- and never considered answering any of the questions that used to burn your tongue so ardently.

At first, he had that serious tone in his voice, the bad kind of serious when he’d repeat “that’s not something a human should know”. Now he just laughs it off, probably thinking that joking would make the rejection easier. It’s not unusual that you even forget to ask or find yourself afraid Dream might start filling the gaps with answers. If you truly let it, the thought would penetrate inside your body and run through your veins to get you high on fear and worries.

Corpse Husband.

Maybe that’s why being friends with Corpse, knowing who he really is, doesn’t seem like that much of a good idea anymore. Could you really dread another loss? No, obviously, you can't.

At the request of a nervous Sykkuno, the amigops were reunited to play a round of self-indulgent uno before an upcoming livestream. It was like a secret reunion but, honestly, it's more of an excuse to clear some time off of their schedule and spend time together, just the 4 of them.

Corpse really doesn’t get why he accepted to play in the first place, believing that he would neither be a good partner nor of a good company in terms of conversation. But he felt like his friends needed him and how could he ever say no? He was rather wrong when he underestimated the assets of normal human interactions. But it’s good; it means he’s still able to think, it means he survived.

“Did Dream text you back?” Sykkuno wonders, high tone that lets Corpse know he hesitated before asking. When Corpse chooses to remain silent and play a card instead, Sykkuno senses the answer is nothing positive.

“Is this something we should be aware of?” Toast questions while drawing 2 cards.

“Not sure,” Corpse mutters, eyebrows frowning and eyes squinting on Sykkuno’s deck, trying to elaborate a strategy. Him and his teammate are so close to winning Corpse knows for sure they won’t. “Let’s say someone knows something they shouldn’t and it’s bothering me.”

“Can we stop playing riddle for a second?” Rae asks. “This is a little too cryptic for me.”

“Someone knows that Corpse is a sorcerer because Dream snitched,” Sykkuno informs as he readjusts his position on his seat and clears his throat.

Corpse lets a satisfied hum escape his lips, Sykkuno followed the plan accordingly when he played the card he wanted him to. Corpse has visibly no intention to focus on that conversation.

The truth is Corpse felt safe for a moment, knowing that you were aware of whom he truly is but, after processing the information you let him on, he concluded that he didn’t like that idea one bit. The fact that a human has more or less the concept of his existence between their fingers leaves him with a nasty taste of anticipation.

You could absolutely fuck things up for him and, knowing you, Corpse is aware he doesn’t have much time left before you start taunting him with his own nature. Trust is a long journey, especially for someone who has been betrayed for longer than a lifetime.

Maybe he should talk about it, express his fears and let you know how damaging, devastating it could be to his life. He wishes he could, he really does but there’s this sense of sorcerer pride that barely hangs above his head like a sword of Damocles and it feels like exposing his untamed emotions would be the final cut before that sword slices his ego to dust.

“Why would Dream snitch in the first place?” Rae’s voice gets more robust; considering Corpse as one of her protegees has never been an easy task and it shows. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Corpse mumbles. “I thought I knew but I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Maybe you should invite them to play with us sometimes. It’s better to keep an eye on them, right?” Toast intervenes.

“Uno!” Rae cheers without a warning, Sykkuno and Corpse exhale in unison. They both knew it would end up this way but it doesn’t revoke the slight frustration of only having 2 cards left in Corpse’s virtual hand.

“You’re talking about them as if they were an enemy but I think they’re rather a friend,” Sykkuno notes as he throws a +4 on the pile.

Funny what an odd timing can do. Corpse’s phone lights up near the candle. It’s showing a curious notification he could’ve never been able to anticipate, especially coming from you; [I’m still thinking about you] and Corpse’s heart hurts just a little while his breath gets caught up in his throat. His eyes flicker for a moment before he realizes what you really mean by that. He clears his throat.

“Acquaintance,” Corpse corrects. He knows his teammate is silently rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disapprobation. He should’ve probably kept his mouth shut, he realizes it now. Here we go again.

“Everyone is acquaintance to you, Corpse” Rae grumbles, getting ahead of Sykkuno’s thoughts with a tone that lets transpire the lightest glimpse of irritation.

“Not true,” he fights back. “You guys are my friends.”

Sykkuno makes this aww noise, heart getting a little softened by the confession he only half believes in.

[What are you gonna do about that?] He types.

“Nice catch, buddy,” Toast smirks. Corpse doesn’t know if he is referring to him slightly changing the subject or to him throwing a +2 on another +2 but there’s a beginning of a smile on his lips when he realizes he succeeded with setting a diversion for both of the issues he found himself dipped in.

[I don’t know, thought you were supposed to take care of it,] you reply.

[Don’t you like thinking about me all day long?] He adds with a sly smile.

[I’m not answering that question.]

[Yeah I wouldn’t like it either.]

He debates for a second. An idea bloomed in his mind a few days ago but he isn’t sure if he should let it out just yet. Why not? Corpse doesn’t know himself. Maybe that’s what he is trying to find out but he eventually has to give up. He has to because you won’t.

[There’s this spell you can use. It’s very easy and human friendly, you should try it.]

[You could’ve started with that a week ago,] you answer.

Corpse doesn’t respond, just huffs. He’s waiting, eyes fixed on the bright screen until his vision turns blurry, witnessing the three dots indicating that you’re typing appear and fade away a few times. Say it. He’s waiting and-

“Well, I wanna meet someone whom I’m gonna hear a lot about,” Rae says while drawing the 4 cards without even noticing.

“No one said you’re gonna hear more than that, ‘Raerae’,” Corpse scoffs, chuckling to mask the slight annoyance this conversation provides. “There’s nothing more to say.”

His eyes are back on the phone now. The dots disappeared for good this time. Somehow, Corpse is still waiting, feet wiggling under his chair as his fingers wrap with more confidence on the device in the palm of his hand. Just say it.

“You’re such a bad liar,” Sykkuno sighs.

“You know what? You should invite them to play uno on the next stream. I’ll leave my spot just to watch that.” Toast deviously adds to which Rae silently agrees.

No you wouldn’t. There’s a curious silence when Corpse chooses to let the words fade in his mouth and the conversation dries down. Toast’s pixelated hand gets filled with more and more cards which forces him to sigh heavily in frustration.

“This conversation is getting annoying,” Corpse mumbles under his breath.

[Fine, just tell me what to do,] you finally type and, somehow, it feels like you were knocked out of your own game.

When Dream finally finds his way back home, he lets his body sink into a chair in front of the fireplace, eyes closed and exhausted limbs that can barely move. The moon is taking its reign in a sky that looks like mixed feelings; half still awake, half already asleep.

The silence rings into his empty mind as he exhales. Being home after traveling for so long always brings a special sense of solace, a sense of belonging. He raises a finger and fire starts consuming the logs of wood in the fireplace. The heat, slowly easing the tension in his muscles.

Silence, it’s probably what causes the faint creak of his wooden floor to be so distinct. Dream’s first instinct is panic, they found him, his alerted eyes scan the empty room. There’s nothing but himself, the faint reflection of his shadows and the stone that the walls are made of. He likes the stone, it carries so much energy with it, but right now it sends awful shivers down his spine. Dream debates whether he should get up to investigate or not but fear already forbids it.

He finally meets an habitual energy and his breath cools down his burning lungs.

“What are you doing here, George?” He exhales deeply.

George reveals himself with an unabashed look on his face which, in itself, surprises Dream more than the fact that he’s standing here, in his home, unannounced. Dream pictured a clear sense of guilt on the way George would’ve appeared, eyes that would try to run away. However, George leans tall against the door frame, arm crossed against his chest. He looks almost as worn out as Dream is but there’s something on his face that unveils another type of fatigue. He doesn’t like that one bit. Not for himself, even less for George.

“I’m tired of you leaving for days, weeks, without informing me,” George says and it’s as cold as the expression that freezes the emotions out of his eyes.

Dream tries not to open his mouth before being sure of what the appropriate answer is. The silence is heavy and unsolicited, charged with the things that can’t be put into words. He tries his hardest to keep the confidence he always wears as a protection but it’s so hard when George comes into the equation, especially when the situation is accompanied by regrets.

“So that’s why you came all the way to Florida?” Dream scoffs. Right now, sarcasm is the only thing he can afford. He thought George would be the one trying to run away from the confrontation, but he’s the only one trying to cut down the conversation. He wishes he didn’t have to take that path, it’s nothing George deserves.

“Don’t make it sound like it’s not enough of a reason.” George sighs.

Dream avoids the eye contact by locking his gaze on the flames that are dancing in front of him. The stone is cold, too cold for the fire to provide enough warmth to counter it. The truth is far hidden in a complexity that can never be untangled.

“So where were you this time?” George continues, getting closer to his friend until he seats next to him. It feels like he shouldn’t, Dream wishes he didn’t.

“In Italy.” He tries not to wince by pinching his lips together when he realizes lying would have been a far better tactic to spare his companion.

George's hand reaches his head. It’s almost a desperate attempt to find a reasoning. Dream watches from the corner of his eyes the tortured mind that tries to make everything make sense in a puzzle that’s missing a few pieces.

“In Italy.” George repeats, raising a brow that makes his eyes more rounded. The fire intensifies in the chimney. It lurches dangerously. George’s tone gets more ardent. It’s still calm, as you would expect from George, but it’s loaded with resentments. “So you preferred traveling to my continent instead of asking me?”

George is waiting for an answer, eyes that won’t quiver away from the sorcerer. I just want to protect you are the words stuck on Dream’s tongue. Instead of letting them die in the air, he watches the flames that keep getting stronger and stronger. He wonders if the whole place is about to catch on fire. It would almost be fine, the words are more violent than the flames; too brutally accurate, too much of a revelation.

“I actually can't believe you right now,” George adds while shaking his head. There’s really nothing Dream can do about it. He lets the silence carry the message.

When George speaks again, his voice is back to its normal calmness.

“You’re making me one very useless familiar Clay, are you aware of that?”

He knows how to use Dream’s name as a weapon and it chimes in his brain so loudly it’s close to unbearable. But Dreams is oh too fucking aware of it. His cheeks are flushing with a glimpse of shame. Nothing bad must ever happen to George. That's why George role as a familiar is so complex. How is he even supposed to express that? Words are too far from reality, never precise enough. There’s no guideline for how to act when you want to protect someone so badly. There should be.

“I know,” he simply mutters because there’s nothing more to say. “I’m sorry.”

The fire is back to a more steady state. It crackles, pops lightly and George opens his hands to suck the warmth in his palm before rubbing them together. He doesn’t look that angry under the dull light. His dark hair are sweetly ruffled and his eyes are as soft as they’ve always been.

“Y/n has been looking for you too,” George says. “They’re worried too.”

“I know. It’s for them that I’ve been gone,” Dream explains.

“Yeah?” George hums and Dream follows the song. It seems like it was enough of an explanation for George to put his attention back on him.

“I’ve been looking for this book I talked to you about and it happened to be in Italy.” Dream says, pointing at the book that is laying on the kitchen table.

“Why would it be in Italy,” George asks as his brows furrow and he leans his head on the side.

“I don’t really know but it’s so old it probably visited a lot of places before,” Dream exhales.

“What were the chances for you to actually find it?” George questions.

“Very few, I guess I’ve been very lucky,” Dream answers while detailing the book from afar.

George gets up, his steps aren't as sure as they were a couple of minutes ago, creaking on his way. His fingers wrap carefully around the book and he describes it. It looks practically untouched considering how old it is. Its previous owners must have kept it with great care. The emerald colored cover isn’t displaying any title and when George finally opens it, the golden pages are adorned with rounds and organic letters; it was handwritten.

“You’re never lucky, Dream. It’s never luck with you,” George says as he lightly shakes his head.

“Well, believe me on that one; it was pure luck.”

It’s not something you would have expected to do in your life, yet you take this spell in an almost solemn way. The room is dark, only illuminated by candles you placed in corners of the room. The obscurity is almost reassuring that you’re doing this with enough respect for the sorcerer.

You drew a circle of sea salt and lit up some incent. The smell is strong, not far from heady. You placed two candles inside the circle; a black one in which you carved Corpse’s name and a white one in which you carved your own. Now, all you had to do was tie the two candles together with a string that would represent your bond and light the two candles until the tie would come undone, until this connection would come undone. Consumed by the fire.

That’s what Corpse said. It feels a little bitter for some reason but since nothing seems to be making any sort of sense, maybe it’s time to just let it go.

So, as the string curls around you and Corpse, you set your intention; I wish for my mind to know peace again. I wish for my mind to be spared of Corpse’s name. I wish for our sense deprived bind to stop being. You light up the two candle and patiently wait for the string to burn away.

The flames are captivating your attention. They are strong, almost unnaturally tall but mesmerizing as they melt down the wax and shrink the candle in size.

"Goodbye, Mr Sorcerer," you whisper.

The moment lasts so long you have no idea how long just passed. Yet your gaze misses none of the spectacle. A glimpse of confusion crosses your face when the two flames are close enough to set the string on fire but can’t seem to actually do it. You brush it off until the flames are about to go out and the string is still spared. It won’t burn down. The curiosity gets validated when the remaining wax no longer provides any source of light. It’s done, or at least it should have been. So why is the bond still intact?

☾ A/N : So last chapter I said the next ones wouldn't be angsty but??? guess I kinda lied?? This wasn't the chapter I planned on writing at all (realized that 3k deep into what I was writing lol) but I thought we needed a bit of magic before moving on. Also I feel like I should mention that the spell is a real one and that you shouldn't do it until you understand the consequences of it. 💘DNF💘 now that we got this out of the way,, don't you feel like familiar Gogy and familiar Sykkuno are giving off the same energy?? idk I'm just too invested now but I'm excited to know what you thought of it anyway! Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

☾ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 *OPEN* : dm me or ask me to get tagged :

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[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Hey! Could I request a vampire Diavolo? Reader reminds him of his long lost love for donatella. Thank you!

Starless

(yandere vampire Diavolo X Female Reader)

The cold air seemed to pass through you as you walked in the dead of night. The wind whipped up in a second, making it almost impossible to stay on your two feet. You didn't know where you were, you just hoped that there was some shelter you could find before the dreaded blizzard came in. Each step drained you further, like a family of leeches feasting on your blood.

Then in the distance you could see that your silent prayers had been answered as a large castle came into view. You pushed yourself further, chasing the sweet sensation of warmth that was promised inside the castle. Surely the count of this abode would be gracious enough to let you stay while the storm raged.

As you made your way closer the castle only grew in size, by the time you reached the door you could only believe that a giant could live in a place so big. On the windows you could see the frost beginning to develop.

Beside the large door a chain dangle.

'Please ring' was engraved into a golden plate beside it. You tucked your hand in your coat before you pulled the chain. A prolonged hum of a bell echoed. You waited for a few minutes but nobody came to answer.

As the night grew colder you grew more desperate to feel some kind of warmth, you pound your fists against the thick wooden doors. Hollering out to whoever may have been inside but your attempts could only last so long. Your jaw seemed to move on it's own as the most from your breath became thicker and your eyes were half lidded in exhaustion. You leaned against the wall as your body grew stiff.

However in those last moments of dread the door gave in to your weight and opened, causing you to fall inside. As you got to your knees you saw the large entranceway. Large paintings that you could barely see in the darkness littered the walls. The only source of light in the room was that from a fireplace that was practically screaming your name.

"Hello is anybody here?" You called out as you made your way to the fire, sprawling yourself on a fine velvet loveseat that was placed in front of the warm flames that danced in a hypnotic rhythm. Almost tempting you to approach the deadly flower of warmth and light. You felt your eyelids grow heavy as the urge to sleep over took you.

⚰️⚰️⚰️

As you slept, another made their way to the castle from the town below. They hid under layers upon layers of clothes as they struggled to drag a large sack behind them, leaving a small trail of blood behind them as the first few snowflakes came to hide his path.

Once he arrived he made his way the side of the castle entered through the Cellar entrance and stuffed the sack inside the large dumbwaiter before taking a few off his coats to reveal his short pink hair and golden eyes. He then pulled at the rope to lift the dumbwaiter to his master's quarters, hopefully this would appease the count's appetite.

The young man exited the cellar and made his way to clean the entranceway only to find a stranger who's sleeping form was sprawled across the velvety recliner. The male grabbed out his dagger, and held it over your form before putting it away, knowing it would be better to have the count decide the intruders fate.

He locked the front door and made his way up an almost endless flight of stairs that led him to a room, one which many did not ever leave. He opened the door to only a sliver before making his presence known before opening it fully.

The dumbwaiter had been opened and on the floor his master, covered in layers of linen that had been taken from the bed. He was already feasting upon the fresh corpse he had been supplied.

"Master I'm sorry about not being able to keep them alive… they were rather hard to catch" the young man apologized.

"I would have rather had the unconscious, but I know it was for the best my dear Doppio… I can't have rumours sprouting in the town about your late night errands" he said as he looked back at the boy named Doppio. The one in which he served was a man whose name was lost in the sands of time and had a face that had been long forgotten for many centuries. His bony body and sunken features began to disappear. The clock of life turned backwards as his body began to rejuvenate, bringing him back to the form he saw fit.

"I don't want to alarm you but I found a woman in the entranceway, would you like me to dispose of her?" Doppio asked in a sheepish tone, he knew Count Diavolo did not like any guests in his castle.

"No, give them my hospitality, they can stay while this storm passes… just make sure they have a good rest during their stay" Diavolo responded, his seemingly innocent request oozed like honey but was bitter as iron. His words implied something more sinister than was on surface level.

⚰️⚰️⚰️

You shifted around underneath a certain warmth as you began to wake. You finally brought yourself to open your eyes. You found yourself in a dark room different from that which had fallen asleep in. Your body laid in a large bed dressed in satin linen. You sat up and looked around the room and admired the opulent decor, it looked like it belonged to royalty.

A knock on the door echoed before a voice spoke from the other side.

"Are you decent ma'am?" A young man said.

"Yes" you replied to the stranger behind the door, giving them the permission to enter.

The door opened and a young man entered as he held a breakfast tray with fruit, honey and tea. He gave you a sheepish smile as he looked at you. Short pink hair pulled into a messy bun, his eyes were half open and still covered in sleep; his skin also noticeably pale.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up, I just wanted to see if you were ok" he apologized as he placed the tray on your lap.

"No you didn't wake me up and I do appreciate the thought" you replied.

"I was rather worried when I saw you last night and so was my master, He's allowed you to stay until the snowstorm passes" he explained.

"Thank you, I appreciate it" you replied.

"It is no problem Ma'am, it is always nice to have some extra company" he chuckled as he was about to leave you to your breakfast.

"May I please know your name as well as your master?" You asked.

"My master does not like his name being spoken, however on the other hand I do not mind telling you that my name is Doppio" he replied.

"Well Doppio… I thank you again for your hospitality" you replied.

"Your very welcome, now I'll leave you to your breakfast while I find you some suitable clothes"

⚰️⚰️⚰️

"Now you are free to roam the castle as you wish, however with a few exceptions" young Doppio said to you as he led you through the castle.

"The entire eastwing on the second floor is forbidden, even I am never to enter" he explained as he led you down a narrow hallway.

"The library will need permission to enter" he continued as he passed another door, however your legs locked up as you looked at it and a faint but rather unpleasant smell wafted in the air.

"Doppio, what's behind this door?" You asked him, which caused him to freeze in his tracks.

"No" he simply said in a bitter voice.

"What's wrong?" You asked.

"Don't ever speak of that room again!" he hissed through gritted teeth, which made you flinch

"Ok...ok I'm sorry" you apologized.

"Could I atleast get a book from the library and sit near the entranceway?" You asked.

"I'm sure that will be fine for now" he sighed as he led you towards the library, unaware that his master was lurking in that exact room.

Doppio opened the large french doors to reveal a room with rows upon rows of bookshelves filled to the brim with various hardcover books and left you to your own devices. You took a few steps on the soft red rug before the faint sound of pages being flipped.

You stepped off the carpet into the wooden floor only for it to make a horrible creak, alerting the other person of your presence.

They dropped the book. You quickly ran the section you had believed they were. There was a book on the floor but no sign of whoever was there. They couldn't have escaped without you seeing them.

You reached down and picked up the book that had been dropped, unaware that you had a pair of sinister green eyes spying on you through the cracks in the wall.

As the fuschia male's eyes watched you he dreaded what was welling deep inside him. His deep subconscious was showing feelings, showing feelings of an almost human nature.

'no this won't do' he thought to himself, feeling that his own mind was betraying him.

What he felt he thought he had buried away centuries ago, after he had been cursed to an eternity of hiding amongst the shadows of his own paranoia. A feeling that triggered the memories of his late lover. A woman so elegant, yet so bold. You reminded the vampire about her in every way. The way you stood, held the book and even flipped the pages was exactly the same, like you had studied her character as if it was a role in a play.

You then left with the book in your arms, escaping his view with the very last book she had read before she disappeared. Curiosity got the best of Diavolo, he'd have to study you more.

⚰️⚰️⚰️

Diavolo had his eyes on you at all times. Watching you pass the time as the blizzard raged through peep holes he had littered around his aboud. He had Doppio test you with your dinner by over cooking your meat, which you responded to in a polite yet unsatisfied manner.

Diavolo opened the door to the bedroom you retired in, watching Doppio fiddling with the bits and bobs of a particular contraption made for these times where he had mortal guests, they did have to pay him for his hospitality in some way.

Doppio finally had it set up and pushed the clean needle attachment of the tube into your arm. No response came from your drugged out form. As he rotated a small handle in a clockwise direction a dark red substance was pulled through a tube and slowly filled a large glass vial. Diavolo couldn't help but stare at your form, admiring how you looked in one of his late lovers' dresses, it suited you perfectly.

"Master is something the matter?" Doppio asked as he looked at Diavolo.

"Of course not, why do you ask?" He scorned.

"You have been acting strange since this morning, you've been like a lost puppy" Doppio replied as he stopped cranking the machine.

"Nonsense" he huffed as he folded his arms, trying to disregard what his servant was saying. To him this whole conversation was stupid.

"Just give me the blood and I will be on my way" he hissed, snatching the vial out of Doppio's hands as he held it out to him.

⚰️⚰���⚰️

It had been a few days since you had been snowed in and every morning you would wake up with a horrible headache and a lethargic feeling.

You sat at the long table with only your thoughts to occupy you until Doppio placed down a plate of pancakes.

"Um Doppio" you muttered, unsure if you should tell him about your issues.

"Yes (Y/n) is there anything I can do for you?" He asked.

"No, it's just… I've been feeling rather fatigued these past few days and I've been waking up with an awful headache as well" you explained as your fork flicked up the edge of the pancake.

"Have you been having any trouble sleeping?" He asked.

"No, if anything I've been having the best sleep I've ever had" you replied.

"Strange" the male muttered.

"Perhaps you may be developing anaemia" he mentioned.

"Being stuck in here without a good source of vitamin d may be the cause for all this" he continued.

"I think the snow is clearing up, perhaps you can leave tomorrow" he continued.

"That would be great, I need to get home as soon as possible" you replied as you took a bite of your pancakes.

"Also-" you were about to ask Doppio something but cut yourself off.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Neverminfld, it was going to be a stupid question anyway" you replied as you shook your head.

"No question is stupid, ask me anything" he said with a cheerful smile on his face.

"I was just wondering if you've felt like you have been watched?" You asked.

"No I haven't, why do you ask?" He inquired with a confused look on his face.

"It's just I swore that I heard somebody in this library the other day, even since then I can't help but feel as if somebody is watching me through the cracks of this castle" you explained to him before taking another bite.

"It might be the isolation, people's minds tend to wonder when they're alone for too long" Doppio explained.

"You should have a bath, it'll help you relax" Doppio suggested, which you thought was a rather good idea.

"Maybe I will have one, after breakfast of course" you replied.

"Ok then I'll get it ready for you" he said as he left to get the water ready for you.

One he left you had that strange sensation again. You turned your head left and right but you couldn't see anyone. What Doppio said must have been true, you were slowly going stir crazy.

⚰️⚰️⚰️

You sunk into the bathtub and felt your muscles loosen. You sighed and closed your eyes and let yourself sink into your mind all seemed fine.

At first as you thought about going back home and finding a suitor but then in your mind the doors of the castle you were trapped in closed, eyes peered through the growing cracks in the walls and a putrid smell filled the air. Blood ran down the walls and screams echoed before a bony pair of hands wrapped around your neck.

You jumped out of your skin as you came to, you hadn't even realised you had screamed. Your heart was on the verge of a collapse as you held the edge of the bathtub with your shaky hands. You must have fallen asleep in the bath, the water barely warm at this point. You simply shook what you had envisioned as just a horrible nightmare until you felt those eyes watching you again.

You stepped out of the bathtub and dried yourself off with a towel before changing into the clothing you had been provided with. You made yourself presentable before leaving the bathroom.

You make your way to the library again, hopefully that you might find out the culprit behind the disappearance act and your paranoia the other day, tip-toeing the lightest you could to avoid Doppio. You entered and entered the row you had seen the book yesterday.

There was merely a wall and books on the shelves, how somebody could just disappear seemed impossible. You began to pull on each book on one of the shelves, thinking that there must have been a passage of sorts but there seemed to be no sign of a lever nor any mechanism that could control one. You began to push almost every stone in the wall but still no passage. In frustration you kick the wall only for the stones to fall out, leaving a hole big enough for you to get your hand into. You pulled it then pushed it but nothing happened. Only when you tugged it sideway did it slide, revealing a dark, musky corridor. With no hesitation you walked in and closed the wall behind you. This must have been those old secret corridors that were used to protect nobles and their servants from attack hundreds of years ago.

You could hardly see anything besides the few cracks in the walls; made intentionally for a pair of prying eyes to stalk those that roamed the castle. You had to rely on your hands to help guide you.

There were several entrances hidden around the castle, even one in the room you had been sleeping in which was the cause for much concern. You knew now that whoever lived here was definitely watching you.

You pushed open another entrance, you gagged on the horrid smell, tears formed in your eyes as you sealed them shut and covered them with your hands. You didn't want to see what was causing it, but you knew whatever you could smell had the undeniable stench of death. You peered through your fingers and saw a partially decomposed corpse in front of you.

At this point your gag reflex betrayed you. You were hunched over yourself, violently vomiting. The horrible taste of partially digested food and gastric acid stung your throat and tongue. You slammed the door shut but the image not the smell would leave, burnt into your brain in the most painful way.

A certain dread washed over you as you realised that you may not have been such a welcome guest. This was perhaps your fate tonight. You would be running away from this castle right now if it weren't for all the snow outside.

⚰️⚰️⚰️

You had left the secret passages and returned to your routine. However as Doppio walked past you while you were reading you could feel his dark glare, almost just like he knew what you had done. A nauseating feeling overcame you as you looked at them. You just hoped that you would be spared from the fate of that corpse.

As night approached anxiety consumed you. You took every step with caution, like you were treading on eggshells. Each breath you took was heavy and made your lungs feel like they were made of lead.

Doppio guided you to a room that night that you hadn't been in before, which definitely caused you to sweat but you quickly maintain your composure to not gain his suspicion.

"My master will be joining us for dinner, but for now please make yourself comfortable here" Doppio said in his typical sweet tone before leaving you.

You looked around the room, red and gold wallpaper covered the room, a fireplace illuminated the room in a soft warm tone. A painting hung on the wall, a lady with short brown hair green eyes wearing a dress exactly like the one you were wearing right now. She was sitting next to a tall male in a fine suit of black and gold holding the handle of a cane in their long, bony hands. His face was torn off the canvas however you could only imagine that he would have been a rather attractive man.

In the middle of the room was a grand piano that looked like it had been neglected for years, a thick layer of dust coated every inch of it. You slowly approached it admiring it's long forgotten features before sitting on the stool in front of it. You pulled up the cover and saw a price of paper on top of the keys. You inspected the notes neatly inked onto the paper before resting it in front of you. Your fingers traced over the keys before testing a note. You looked at the sheet again and hoped you could still play the piano like you did when you had lessons as a child.

You began to play each note almost like you had done it a million times. Caught up in the music you played you hadn't noticed the door open and close. You closed your eyes and let yourself drown into the rhythm before an odd note was played.

You opened your eyes and saw a finger pressed stop one of the keys, the owner's long arm trailed behind you. You turned and saw a man, around in his early thirties. Fuchsia hair tied back with a loose bow, allowing you to admire his sharp features.

"You didn't have to stop, you were doing very well" he complimented you in a soft, low voice.

"Sorry, it's just you threw me off a bit" you replied.

"There is no need to apologize, I interrupted you… I just got caught up in the music, it was a piece my dear Donatella wrote before she had passed" he explained.

"Oh, that's horrible to hear… I'm sorry if that brought up anything" you replied, feeling sorry for the male. He seemed far too young to have his love taken so soon.

"Where are my manners… my name is (Y/n), I assume you are the owner of this castle?" You introduced yourself as you stood up, cautiously extending your hand out to him.

"Indeed I am," he replied.

"You may call me Diavolo" he continued as he held your hand and planted a kiss upon the back of your hand. His touch was a cold as ice, you felt as if his lips would freeze your very soul. You knew not to trust this man dressed in a dark red and black.

"Well I'm very thankful for you letting me take refuge in your castle from the snow storm, I'll be sure to offer you my greatest gratitude when I return to my town" you replied, hoping that the offer of some reward would please him.

One of his hands landed on your shoulder and rubbed in gently, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Why leave? I'll let you stay here for as long as you wish" he said in such a sweet tone, like something was actually alive inside his long dead body.

"I have to return home and find a suitor" you explained as you tried to shift his hand off of you, only you had him latch on and dig his fingernails into your skin. You bit your lip as you felt the pain.

"Why don't you stay and marry me, I can provide you what no one else can mia rosa" he had the voice you imagined the devil would have, sweet words that made even the most sinful things sound irresistible.

"I'm sorry, I don't think that is in the cards for us… we don't ever know eachother" you responded. Before pushing him back.

"Well if you aren't going to accept my offer without even listening to it… then you leave me no choice" he said in a calm tone, yet his eyes were filled with anger.

"The very moment you fall asleep I'll have my way, whether you like it or or not you'll be forced to stay with me" he explained with a small smirk on his lips.

"And how do you intend to do that? Kill me? Sever my limbs? Gorge out my eyeballs? Chain me up like a dog? I'd at least like to know what kind of hell you'll subject me to" you hissed throught gritted teeth before a pair of hands held you in place. You looked behind you to see they belonged to Doppio, who seemed to look very pale and sickly. Even so the males hold on you was strong.

"You should never speak so disgracefully to my master, he promises to offer you more then you could ever imagine and spit it in his face" he muttered in a tone full of hate.

Diavolo sat on the stool you had once sat in and leaned on the keys with his elbow.

"Well I was thinking about giving you my gift of eternal youth, however your new attitude is make me consider about have my dear Doppio continuously blood let you to the point of you being on the brink of death" he explained. It wasn't long until you connected the dots and realised he wasn't human

[thousandsunnywrites]

How about law meeting a girl who has the same energy as Luffy and tends to touch him in some way all the time, her favorite being ridding on his back. He has long since given up trying to get her to stop, only to find out when he teams up with the straw hats she’s Luffy’s sister by blood. The oldest of Ace Sabo and Luffy.

Law

Law x f!reader; romantic

⤷ a/n: g o l l y this ficlet was a whopping 2.7k words 😭😭i really do love picking on law; also ps this isn’t proofread yet so enjoy the rawness ty

----

“traaafFFFYYYY!” He stumbles forward to balance the sudden weight tossed on his back, hands instinctively grabbing the legs wrapped around him. His life was never like this, until you came around.

It was a regular night in the submarine, Law doing his routinely watch through the sub’s finder. What the hell is that, he zoomed in to get a better view of the blurry image, hm, what is that?

He found a floating bucket under the sea with a tightly sealed lid and a hole carved on the upside with a plastic straw sticking out. Confused and hoping it was some lost gold, he made Bepo fish out the container and check it out. Instead of finding what he hoped to uncover, he discovered a limp body of a young female.

“It’s not breathing, captain! What if it’s been purposely tossed into sea... what if...” his words begin to trail off when the horrid realization of the sea being the graveyard to rest the corpse crossed his mind. He shrieked. They messed with the dead! They’re going to die! He watched too many Asian horror films to know where this is going.

Not before long, Law sighed out of annoyance, moving Bepo’s paw from the right side of the chest to the left, instantly calming down his tremors and leaving the poor bear sheepish.

Footsteps approach Law’s office and busted through the door. Low and behold, it was no other than Penguin and Shachi.

“Cap’n!! What’s wrong? We heard Bepo scream!—” Penguin tugged on Shachi’s sleeve, forcing his attention to the corpse curled in the bucket. Bepo covered both mouths before a squall was ripped from their throats, “Shh... it’s alive.”

“Room,” the iconic blue sphere encapsulates the room as Law unsheathes his Kikoku, “Scan.” The sliver glint of the sword flickered against the blue hue as it perused the physique. Producing no results, he sheathed his sword. “None” was all he could report.

“Oh thank god!” Penguin leaned over the large wooden pail, examining the face of the woman. “She’s kinda cute,” his hand reaches out to caress her cheek. “Mind if I say that I saved her?” He bantered with a sly smile.

“Move outta the way, lemme see!” Shachi shoved Penguin, an instant grin apparent inside his face.

“Stop fucking around.” Law jostled the apologetic duo to hoist majority of the body’s upper half out the bucket. “Bepo-ya, grab the feet”

“Roger!” He saluted before doing as told.

“Pen-ya, Shachi-ya,” their attentions turned to him, responding with a “Yes, boss?”, to which Law replied, “Get out.” As they left, the captain and first mate transfer the patient to the resting ward and laid her on a more comfortable bed.

“Catch some sleep, Bepo-ya.”

“What about you Captain? Who’s gonna watch her if she wakes up?”

“I will. Go ahead and sleep. Lack of sleep isn’t good for your fur.”

Bepo bowed, trusting all will go well since the captain was watching over her, and left to do as told. Meanwhile, Law pulled out a chair and raised his feet atop the bed. It was going to be a long night.

Surely, he must’ve fallen asleep because next thing he knows, he’s the one in bed and his crew bustled in the kitchen. It was a different ruckus this time; it wasn’t the same morning liveliness he knew, no, it was something more like... a party?

He made his way to the kitchen, head slightly pounding due to the loud vibrations bouncing off the walls. Swinging the kitchen door open, he’s faced with a festive bunch surrounding a stranger. Who the hell is she and how’d she infiltrate my ship?

Now on alert, he reached for his sword, preparing to attack but was stopped by his lovable white bear, who had multiple syrup stains resting on his fur. “Captain!!! Look!! She’s awake!!”

Who?

Oh yeah, the bucket girl.

“Yeah man that was suuuuperrrr crazy! I really thought I was gonna die out there!” A guffaw rumbled in the room, the crowd listening intently to what you have to say, “dude there was this big—and I mean big— whirlpool! With nowhere else to go, I just hid in a good ol’ barrel and hoped for the best.”

“Woah, you’re so cool Y/n!” The crew chanted as Law made his way through the crowd, sitting rightfully at his bench, head against his propped up hand.

“Hey, you must be the captain!” You greeted him with a hearty laugh while you reached over to the opposite side to pat his back, unintentionally thrusting his body forward with every rough pat.

“Don’t touch me,” he pulled away and dusted himself off, “I take it you’re better. Any pain?”

Completely ignoring his question, you continued, “Yeah how rude of me, I’m Y/n!!! I’m sorry for intruding so suddenly, it’s just I thought I was gonna die out there because—“

He held up a hand and finished the same sentence you said prior, “Yeah, yeah, there was a whirlpool and you thought you were gonna die, so your pea-sized brain said to stuff yourself in a barrel and hope for the best, yes, I’ve heard it earlier.” He said all in one breath. This amount of stupidity reminded him of a certain captain he was supposed to meet soon.

Instead of feeling offended, a big cackle bursted in the suddenly tense room. “I like you!” Slamming down your fist on his table as a sign of determination, he saw that same look of craze. Oh, how he could never forget that gaze.

“From here on out, I’m your crewmate now.” Cheers erupted from your mates, picking you up in rejoice to congratulate your recruitment.

“No, everyone quiet. You are not a part of my crew. Find yourself another place to loiter in. We don’t accept stowaways here.”

“Yeah no, it’s fine! I’ve been looking for a crew anyways.”

“I am captain of this ship and when I say I will toss you overboard if you insist you’re a Heart Pirate, I will toss you—”

“Y’all I’m hungry, got any food? Preferably meat, yeah?”

“Do not feed her.”

They feed you anyways despite his protests. He didn’t need another one like him on his ship, let alone in his crew.

“By the way, what’s your name Mr. Captain?” A piece of meat was ripped right off the bone. What a slob, Law grit his teeth, and as if I’ll accept her messy behavior. I’m tossing her right off the sub when she’s done.

“It’s Trafalgar Law!” Penguin chimes in, beating the captain to his own introduction. He grunts in annoyance. “Address him as Captain or doctor,” added Bepo.

“MMmmmmm,” your face twisted comically after a brief ponder, “Too boring, how ‘bout Lawsy?”

“No.”

“Trally?”

“Not a chance.”

“Gar.”

“Just shut up, I’m losing brain cells from you. Address me accordingly.”

“Okay, Traffy.” You burped as you chugged down the last of the juice.

Law could only sigh, because even if he threw you overboard, he’d still be stuck with you.

And that’s how it all circles back to Law giving you a ride on his back while walking along in the designated plaza. This is how his normal looks like nowadays. And nowadays, he doesn’t complain, even if he hates being ordered around, he just does it. His crew speculates him having only a soft spot for you, but he denies it every time. It was obvious though.

Today was the day he and Luffy agreed to meet at Dressrosa to take down that son of a bitch named Doflamingo. Everything was going as plan.

“Hey, Tra-guy!” The strawhats called putting from the other end of plaza, stirring a commotion contrasting the daily chatter of the citizens. He scans around and only sees Zoro, Usopp, Robin, Franky out of the troublesome gang. Where’s Luffy?

His grip tightened to hold you in place after your legs thrashed around in excitement, that never leaving irksome grin plastered on your features as always. “Stay still,” he sneered as he forced your legs to settle.

“Woah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Y/n,” Usopp whispered to Nami, to which she nodded in agreement.

“My, they have gotten quite close,” Robin’s chuckle was covered by her hand.

“Wow!” Franky drawled out, his stance in his usual super pose, “Since when did you two get together?” The glint of his shades gleamed as Law approached.

Law simply responded with a “Never” and carried on with discussing the plan that Luffy and most likely his crew won’t follow suit—but it was worth a shot. Hell, he didn’t even bother to explain it to you, knowing you’d do your own thing anyways like what you were trying to do now.

“Traff, Traff, Traff!” With every chant, you kicked your legs outwards to catch his attention.

“What, what, what.” He propped his arms upwards to readjust your sagging position caused by the sudden movements. The strawhats paused their chatter, noting that the stoic doctor had no sign of vexation on his face. That was a first.

“I’m hungry,” you smooshed his cheeks together. With a lilt, you asked, “Food?”

He casually nods, telling you “Later”, inattentive to the cheek smooshing and now cheek pulling. Nobody said anything, but it was obvious he had a soft spot. I mean, nobody can touch him—let alone his face— like that. If they tried, they’d be in a million pieces.

“Guys!!” The scream approached fast along with a mob of angry citizens following, “Got the meat! Now run!” The strawhat captain zoomed by, dragging the rest of his crew and allies along with him until stopping at a hidden alleyway.

During the time of escape, you hung your head down as Law transferred you from his back to his chest, face-to-face, in one swift motion, so you never caught a glimpse of the runner.

“‘Eyyyy, Tra-guy! Didn’t even notice you’re here!” The man gnawed on his meat while stuffing the leftovers into his big orange bag.

“Glad to see you too, Strawhat-ya,” he greeted back, eyes meeting with yours for a hasty second before trailing his gaze to your relaxed lips. It was intimate, seeing you close to him, bodies pressed together, arms around his neck and waist whilst his rested on the underside of your thighs. You and him always been together since the day he was held at gunpoint to recruit you, so it was normal for him to have some form of physical contact, whether it’d be hand holding to prevent you from straying away or the constant elbow hitting the back of his head while you whistled a verse or two. Giving you piggyback rides was common, so why did his heart start racing? This is what he always did, what was so different that could make him feel heated?

His chain of thoughts broke when you ripped yourself off of him to hug Luffy. “It’s been so long,” the shorter make cried, “I missed you Y/n! So nice seeing you out here! Especially with Tra-guy.” Seemingly impossible, your arms drew him tighter to you. “I missed you Luffy. God, I’m so happy to see you alive, I read all those articles. Really making big moves out there, kiddo.” Dramatic tears flowed out both his and your eyes, basking in the nostalgia and memories you shared.

To you, it was a touching moment; but to others, it was a cloud of confusion.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Usopp’s question dripping in disarray. But, their confusion was unparalleled to Law’s. That’s who you reminded him of—Luffy. He fell in love with someone who’s basically Luffy. He fell in love with Luffy’s sister. He fell in lo— no. No he’s not in love, what is he thinking?

“Huh, that’s a shocker,” Law’s lips were dry, mouth slightly agape as he watched the two monkeys hit it off.

Parting ways as the sun retired for business, Law took you to the hotel he had a reservation for. He was definitely gonna ask about Luffy. Grabbing the keys, it was a nonstop travel to the bedroom. Gotta hand it to Mingo, the bastard is a sick fck but he has some classy taste. The hotel was flooded with the natural shine of the moon, decorations silk and simple to compliment each other and the luxurious smell that was hard to miss.

Immediately upon entering the room, the first thing you checked was the fridge, searching for sweets whilst Law leaned idly against the doorframe as he watched.

“Yes, they have kinder eggs,” you shoved an egg in his field of view, “See?” He lowered your hand away from his face and ran his calloused fingers against his hair. It was a long day today, and he was tired as hell, but in this moment, all he wanted to do was to watch you.

“Want some?” Already munching on the Cadbury you found, you waved your face in front of his to break his daze.

“What?”

You simply pointed and broke off a piece to lay it against his outstretched palm.

“No wonder you seemed familiar to me,” he started, “You’re his sister.” Responding in a hum, he continued, “How did that happen? Sister by blood or by choice?”

“By blood dummy,” you popped a jawbreaker in your mouth, “We grew up together. If Ace and Sabo were being a jackass, I’d beat their ass flat. They were such bad influences! But seemingly in a good way..? They were like brothers to me too, ha, I was kinda like their mom if you really think ‘bout it,” Your mouth stopped sucking as the words you said became more and more sentimental. “I miss them. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy. But I’m happy. I guess it’s just... with everything... it’s nice seeing him alive and laughing. Enjoying life. And happy! Must’ve been hard on him all by himself. Besides, I can’t bear to lose another brother, not again.”

“I understand,” naturally that was his response, being that he could empathize since he did lose a sibling, a mother, and a father—twice— because of people. The world was fucked up. No other words were exchanged, effectively ending that convo.

You dug through the multiple bottles of wine, haphazardly throwing them away to search for more candy. A set of hands joined you on this search, crouching right beside you.

“Seems like you need help.” He offered a tiny, yet genuine, smile, to which you smiled back.

After endless digging, you found a can of whip cream and laughed as you sprayed a heaping load on the doctor’s nose before running around. He chased after you, grunting and hitting his long limbs against the small obstacles you placed, and lost you after he moved said objects to clear the path. You climbed onto the wall and pounced on his back, causing him to fall down completely, the cream crushed against his pointed nose and marbled floor.

“I win,” you sat on him as he struggled like a caught spider underneath your weight.

“Okay, I concede. Get off me.”

You flipped him over so his face was towards the ceiling, which was dark after you turned off the lights, and laid back on his chest. His chest had a subtle, yet rhythmic rise to it and made you fall asleep without trying too hard. You peeped a sigh of content before snoring away.

He admired how peaceful you looked when he wasn’t busy babysitting you. The moonlight doused your features in a soft light, turning even the harsh features into something delicate like a flower. The way your lips parted to let out obnoxious snores, the way your hair is tousled in a perfectly imperfect manner, the way your eyelashes contrast your skin tone, the way how there’s something about this moonlight that makes him wanna just lean down and plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

So he does.

You barely felt it graze against yours.

His hand caressed your hair with feathery light touches and his other brushed against your cheek.

Only the moon knew about the endearing look hidden in Law’s eyes that night; it was that same endearing look that showed he was in love.

[flutteringphalanges]

                              The Necronomicon For Babies

Sequel to the one-shot: A Soul For Two

Summary:  Sequel to the one-shot, "A Soul For Two", we find Maze and the others exactly one year later after the infamous demon became a mother. As the party prepares to celebrate little Eden's first birthday, an unexpected guest shows up on Chloe's and Lucifer's doorstep. A certain someone from Maze's past. A clue as to who Eden's father could really be.

Chapters: 1/2

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: A sequel to my mini fic (two chapters) "A Soul For Two" in which we visit Maze a year after she became a mom. As everyone gathers to celebrate the now one year old Eden's birthday, an unexpected stranger from Maze's past shows up on Chloe's and Lucifer's front door step. What drama will ensue?! Here's part one! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

                                                    Part One

Bubbly. That's the one word Mazikeen Smith would use to describe her daughter's nursery. If it had been up to her, the design would be more dark. Abysmal. But in the best, loving way possible. If it had been left up to her, Eden's room would've depicted the very essence of Hell. Apparently though, according to all of her friends-even Lucifer, who took Chloe's side-said that wasn't appropriate for a child. Instead it was filled with shades of pinks and purples, toys both plush and academic, and more frilly outfits than the demon could count.

"Surely you're going to dress her in something more...well, happier than that." Linda commented as the demon struggled to put the squirming baby into a black, velveteen dress. "It's her first birthday party, not a funeral."

"The head bow has sequins on it. That's as extreme as I'm willing to go." The demon replied, finally getting her daughter situated in the outfit. "There, I see absolutely nothing wrong with that." She motioned at the baby who had taken to chewing on her own fist. "I didn't even get a birthday party as a kid. Much less dressed for one. Black is the new...well, black."

The therapist, though incredulous of her best friend's tastes, sighed in defeat. "I guess the sparkles do help." She smiled as Eden's dark eyes met hers. "It seems like only yesterday that she was born."

"You humans and your perspective of time…" Maze tutted, lifting the one year old up. "Have you heard from Chloe? I told her I didn't want her to go overboard with this. Especially since she went behind my back and told Ella of all people she could help." The demon sighed and studied her daughter carefully. "As long as those decorations are put away for the day. It's Eden's birthday, not...it's her day."

Christmas. The word Maze couldn't bring herself to say. If she had to rank human holidays from least to greatest, Christmas would be in the negatives with Halloween at the top. Perhaps she had gone a little overboard with Eden's costume that year. It wasn't as if someone told her zombie babies weren't all the rage that year. So what if she overindulged just a little with the fake blood? For someone playing the part of "the undead" she was the cutest rotting corpse in all of the cemetery. At least Trixie thought it was cool.

"I've been in contact with her this whole time." Linda assured her. "Just birthday decor, other stuff's been set aside until after you leave. Funny enough, Trixie's been more excited for all of this than opening her own presents…" The therapist paused for a moment. "I was told you gave her something...unexpected."

"Hm?" Maze inquired, fixated on stuffing the diaper bag. "Oh, you mean the tecpatl. Just an Aztec blade I found in my mother's stuff. Come to think of it, it might've been used on her. Anyway, it was one of the few things of hers I took. Thought I could do something with it and Trixie seems to appreciate my choice in weaponry more than the rest of you."

"Trixie is also thirteen and could easily get expelled from school if she accidentally left it in her pocket during class." Her friend retorted. "Knives aren't for kids, Maze."

"I know." The demon replied, rolling her eyes. "You haven't seen Eden with one yet."

"And I hope it stays that way for a long while." Linda answered, letting out a soft, nervous chuckle. "I will say though, Maze, motherhood has looked great on you. I mean, Eden has flourished. Surpassing most of her milestones. I actually feel a little guilty for the doubt I felt in the beginning." She paused before quickly adding. "Just a teeny, tiny amount of concern."

"Well, I'm not Lilith." Her friend answered, slightly insulted by Linda's comment. "I remember how I was raised and made a promise to myself that I wouldn't subject Eden to that." She grinned as she held the baby to her face. "No abandonment in Hell for you, my precious sinner."

"We seriously need to work on better nicknames." The therapist snorted as she grabbed her purse. "Most people might not take it the right way when you call a baby a sinner."

"Amenadiel already lectured me last week when he heard me call her a fallen angel despite the affection behind it." Maze muttered. "I mean, Chloe calls Trixie "Monkey". What kind of name is that? And you with Charlie…"Peanut"? Where's the creativity? Never mind," she shook her head. "I'll think of something eventually that is at least reasonably acceptable to the general public."

The drive to Chloe's was mostly quiet, Eden having fallen asleep mere moments after Linda started the car. Maze gazed out the passenger side window thoughtfully, watching as the trees whizzed by and became buildings. Something was on her mind. Something unsettling that she just couldn't quite put her finger on. Perhaps it simply was due to it being Christmas. The demon had always despised the holiday. On more than one occasion than she was unwilling to admit, she'd nearly impaled Dan's hand with a fork when he jokingly called her a Scrooge-and even the Grinch reincarnated. Though she did look good in green.

"Something on your mind?" Linda inquired, tearing Maze away from her thoughts. "You look worried."

"I'm fine." She mumbled, inhaling deeply. "Just taking the day in...it's a big one."

"Not everyday your kid turns one." Her friend agreed with a smile as they turned into the parking lot. "I remember Charlie's so well. I can't believe we went with the Cookie Monster cake. I was scrubbing blue stains out of his clothes for hours. That icing had so much dye in it, it turned his poop blue. Nearly gave Amenadiel a heart attack. He thought something was wrong."

"Amenadiel's anxiety is almost unbearable." The demon replied, folding her arms over her chest. "I don't know how you do it. I know so many women in Hell who've killed their spouses simply because they drive them mad."

"I'm a therapist." Linda chuckled as she turned off the car. "I'm equipped to deal with that sort of thing. And besides, it's kind of sweet in a way…" She stepped out of the car, eyes glancing at a set of balloons bound to a doorknob. "Even if in the beginning, he literally tried to take my son to Heaven without me. Not the best moment in our relationship."

"Well, if you ever do decide to off him." Maze said, leaving her own seat to retrieve Eden. "I'll help you dispose of the body. Trust me, when I'm done, it'll be untraceable."

"...I'll keep that in mind…" Her friend responded slowly, a little disturbed by the woman's words. "But I think I'm good."

"All the same." The demon stated, Eden's face scrunching up as the sunlight hit it. Maze pulled the canopy down and the baby seemed to drift back to sleep. "What are friends for?"

"Why don't you go on and take her inside?" Linda suggested, quickly changing the conversation. "I'll grab the presents from the trunk. Looks like Amenadiel's car is already here, you can send him out to help. I'm sure Charlie is fine in his playpen. We got him this new toy that speaks French. Fingers crossed he can start picking up some of the language."

"I told you, I'd be more than happy to teach him Lilim." Maze called over her shoulder as she lugged the baby seat towards the stairs. "Perfect for whenever he decides he wants to visit Hell."

"After what happened when he was born. I don't want him stepping a foot near that place." Her friend answered. "A trip to France when he is old enough is good enough for me...but I appreciate the offer as always."

"Well, if you decide otherwise, it's still on the table." Maze smirked. "Though, I can equally be a translator if he ever wants a trip down there. Maybe with Amenadiel. Lucifer told me how it made him squirm. How I'd love a good show."

"I love you, but you do have a way of scaring me sometimes, Mazikeen," Linda replied. "It's a good thing we're friends."

"Yes," the demon agreed. "It's a very good thing."

Black. Blue. Red. A smidge of pink. No purple. For a split second, Maze was convinced she had walked into the wrong party until a certain girl came sprinting across the floorboards. Trixie Espinoza sporting pigtails painted with blue and pink hair chalk, smudged eye makeup, a ridiculous amount of red lipstick, and a familiar costume grinned widely at her.

"I'm Harley Quinn!" She stated as if it needed to be known. "Mom thought you wouldn't want a normal birthday for Eden, so I thought this would be cool!" She motioned around the room. "Do you like it?! Harley Quinn is awesome! She kicks as-butt, like you!" Trixie peered into the carrier. "Awe, she's asleep?" There was disappointment in her voice. "She's gonna wake up, right?"

As if summoned by the girl's words, Eden's eyes slowly opened and her mouth formed a surprisingly wide yawn. Maze undid the clips that strapped the baby into the seat and lifted her up into the air. This certainly hadn't been what she was expecting, but she was not about to argue against the theme.

"Normally, I would've assumed you'd have shown her this movie. But the guilty party this time is Lucifer."

Chloe smiled as she exited the kitchen, attention fixed on her honorary niece. She wore an apron, but it didn't appear to be as messy as one might assume when someone cooks. It was only when the demon saw the Devil peer out from behind the wall and note the smudges of flour and icing on his sleeves and shirt did she realize the true chef. The mastermind behind the whole feast.

"Be thankful one of us knows how to properly bake." Lucifer smirked as he wiped his hands on a dishrag. "The Detective's cupcakes were looking a little on the failed Pinterest side."

"Cake is cake." Chloe huffed, elbowing her boyfriend lightly. "Looks can be deceiving. They might even taste better than yours...despite the melted frosting."

"Believe what you will." Her partner smiled. "But I am the ruler of the kitchen and my reign has yet to be taken over. Although, brownie points towards your egg toast."

"Uncle Luci has no idea what he's talking about." The Detective crooned, tickling one of the baby's feet. "He's just insecure about his own baking abilities and tries to hide it." She straightened up so that she was face to face with Maze. "May I?"

"Pretty sure she has a dirty diaper, but sure." The demon replied, gingerly handing the baby over. "You guys didn't have to do all of this."

"We're family, Maze." Chloe smiled. "And trust me, this is just…"

"OH MY GOD!"

The adults and Trixie turned to see Ella, her costume in much greater detail than Trixie's, standing in the doorway. Behind her Dan juggled what looked like to be a few boxes of presents and a tub of ice cream. The overly excited scientist nearly tripped over her own to feet as she made her way over to the group.

"I just saw you last week and it's like you've gotten bigger since!" Ella gushed, adjusting Eden's bow. "Stop growing up so fast! You're going to make me cry!" She looked from Chloe to Maze. "Can I hold her?! Let me hold her!"

"Gotta wait your turn," Chloe stated. "I just got her."

"You suck, Decker." Ella pouted before her attention was redirected to Trixie. "Costume buddies!" And Maze couldn't help but roll her eyes and slightly smile as the two high fived. Humans. "Anyway, Amenadiel is out there helping Linda. Can I assist in any way?"

"Charlie's in the other room in his playpen where Trixie is supposed to be watching him." The Detective said eyeing her daughter. "Maybe make sure he isn't getting into anything?"

"He's fine, Mom." Trixie said with a wave of her hand. "I put Spongebob on. Amenadiel had Discovery Channel on and it was too boring. He seems to like it better anyways."

"All the same," Chloe continued. "He's a toddler and they like to get into things. The last thing we need is for something like that to happen." Her eyes flickered over to Dan who was still trying not to drop his items. "Remember when Trixie was three and somehow got into the medicine cabinet and drank half a bottle of cough syrup?"

"Poison Control probably thought someone was murdered the way you were panicking." Dan laughed slightly out of breath. "Can I maybe put these somewhere?"

"I don't know, I'm rather enjoying watching you play circus, Daniel." Lucifer sneered, earning him a glare from Chloe. "Alright, alright, fine. I suppose the kitchen table will do for the gifts and the ice cream in the freezer obviously." He shook his head and turned to his partner once the other man was out of sight. "Did we really have to invite him?" Another glower. "Fine, fine. I'll go do something to keep myself busy. Perhaps Amenadiel and Linda need help."

"I made Linda a similar offer earlier." Maze began as Chloe bounced Eden in her arms. "If you need me to dispose of Lucifer, just say the word."

"I think Mama needs to go out on a few bounties." The Detective cooed, staring at the demon as she spoke to the infant. "You can stay here for a few nights and we'll be just fine and dandy, isn't that right, Eden?"

Maze frowned at the woman's words. "I'm perfectly fine." She informed her, reaching forward to snatch her daughter back. "Right now, I am more than happy to focus on my kid...there will always be other jobs."

Though as the weeks turned into months, she had grown weary of sitting around the house. A thought that made her feel guilty. An idea that it was wrong of her to want to work instead of staying back with her child and focusing her attention there.

"Maze," Chloe's voice was softer this time. "It's been a year. There is no shame going back to work."

"I said I'm fine!" The demon insisted almost forcefully. "I'll go when I'm ready and right now...right now, I have things to do. Important things." Her stare met Eden's and the baby smiled. She did her best to return the gesture, but the thoughts of diapers and midnight bottles crossed her mind as they often did. "We're happy."

Before the Detective could open her mouth to reply, Linda, Amenadiel, and Lucifer stepped through the front door. Eden giggled, though she most likely had no idea that the boxes the adults carried were gifts for her. The thoughts left Maze's mind as the presents were piled on to one another. This was way more than the demon had expected. Almost excessive.

"Did you guys buy an entire store?" Maze half joked as she took it all in. "The kid's favorite thing at the moment is a spoon. Really, you didn't…"

"We know." They all said in unison.

Maze just shook her head in disbelief and bounced Eden in her arms. "You're a lucky kid." She commented, looking at the others. "Why don't we get this party started?"

And, like clockwork, as if the world and fate itself knew, there came a knock at the door. A knock that caused that bubbling in the pit of Maze's stomach to start up again. Chloe looked around confused as if recounting all of the guests.

"Did someone order something?"

Curiously, the Detective made her way to the front door and opened it. Maze felt her blood run cold, arms tightening around Eden as she stared dumbfounded at the stranger who gazed back equally as shocked. A man she hadn't seen well over a year. Someone she hadn't wanted to see at all.

Ben Rivers.

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 12: Curtain call (Part 5)

Warnings: violence, death

Author notes: although it  may seem like it... It is not the end yet...! There are some things that still need to be done... I’ll let you guess what, and do comment about your thoughts!

I sighed and dropped the empty weapon to the ground. The fight was over, but there was still no trace of Taikin-san nor his son. I ran a hand through my hair and groaned. It was sticky, and I had blood all over my clothes and face. For my last day as a killer, this sure was a massacre… I crouched down next to the corpses and searched them. I wanted an average gun or two, they suited my skills more than submachine guns and were usually more discreet. Nothing. I pouted and let myself slide down, suddenly feeling exhausted. I had fought so many people, following the information the Fox had given me. He would not dare lie to me… Would he…? No, it was impossible, but it seemed my opponents had foreseen my moves. Why, I had been predictable, after all, and had attacked without even a strategy, blinded by anger. I had to calm down and think. Think… Thoughts. My mind was not empty, someone was still around. Although the painful thumping in my head made it hard to distinguish exactly what was being thought, I could still locate the person. I explored the warehouse. It was a single large room, so the only place where someone could be hiding was the containers.

In the back, placed in the middle of other boxes, there was a large one, made of a different material from the others. I placed my hand on it and knocked slightly. It was bulletproof. My eyes were drawn towards the lock closing it. It required a digital code I did not own, and, without guns, I could not even shoot it open. Even with guns, I would have taken the risk to damage it, anyway. Suddenly, my phone rang, again. A different number, but the person had to be the same.

"The code is 1231."

I had given up on determining who the mysterious sender was and simply entered the pin to unlock the container. It worked. The heavy door opened to reveal none other than a crying Sakunosuke-kun, who threw himself in my arms as soon as he saw me, despite all the blood I was covered in. I cracked a smile, and hugged him back, relieved to see him alive.

"Nē-san!" He cried, clinging onto me "Nē-san…!"

"I'm here, Sakunosuke-kun…" I patted his head as gently as possible "It's all over now… Let's get out of here, alright?"

He nodded and I picked him up in my arms. In spite of the danger we could face if I could not fight back, considering how my hands were taken, I judged that child needed warmth more at the moment. The boy nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck as I walked us towards the exit.

A gunshot echoed in the warehouse, and I barely had time to crouch down to dodge it. In the direction of the attack, a single man was standing. He had surely been hiding all this time, and I had not noticed him, too absorbed by my fight. I smirked and put the kid down.

"I'll be back… Scream if anything happens." I told him before turning my attention to the man "I was looking for you everywhere…! I thought you had been killed, Taikin-san…~"

"Too bad, I'm still alive. For a detective serving justice, you really don't hesitate to spill blood…!" He replied with the same tone.

"What are you saying, 'too bad…?" I snorted "I'll have the pleasure of killing you, now…! You disgusting criminal…"

"Then come…! I'm waiting for you!" He invited me over.

I raised an eyebrow.

"You saw what I did… Do you truly think you stand a chance against me?"

"You shouldn't underestimate your opponent… I am a member of a shooting club…!"

"Is that so…? Interesting…"

I crouched down to avoid his next bullet, then sneaked between the containers and made my way towards him while using my surroundings to protect myself against his shots. I had him in my field of view, and he was surely aware that I was there, too. I reached for my guns, but my holsters were empty; I had thrown the useless weapons away, earlier.

"Hoh~? You dare come unprepared?" He chuckled.

My phone vibrated.

"Where are you looking at~?"

Once again, I dodged his attack, and jumped on him to pin him to the ground. It was not enough to neutralise him, however, and he pointed his gun on my forehead. I was utterly defeated...

"I think you lost, this time, detective." He snickered "Meddling in my business…"

"Before you kill me, Taikin-san…" I said "I am curious…"

"I suppose I could answer your question before I kill you, after all… What do you want to know?"

"... How much did you underestimate the Agency to hire us, thinking we would never find out about your schemes…?"

"Huh?"

From a pocket of my jacket, I pulled out a knife and sliced his hand from his arm, before planting the blade into his neck, right into his carotid artery. His last expression was one of pure shock, but I did not mind too much. I left his corpse there and went back to his son, now an orphan. He was sobbing because his loving father had died, but I could hear he was aware of the horrors he had committed. I hoped he would never come to know about his deceased brother… He had never gotten to grow up with him, there was no need to ever tell him about that child…

"It really is over now…" I smiled at him, wiping his tears away with my thumb "Let's get you back to your mother now…"

"Mmh…"

Outside, the sun was falling towards the sea, painting the sky in beautiful crimson shades. Sakunosuke-kun had fallen asleep… The seagulls cried right above our heads, welcoming us out of that morbid place. The case was over… My existence as a criminal was over, but so were my hopes to enter the Agency. I had killed the culprit instead of giving him a fair trial, that was enough to seal my fate. But whatever would happen, I would not kill anymore.

A silhouette was leaning against the wall, visibly waiting for me. I grinned at the person.

"I knew it was you."

"I'm not going to charge you for the extra information I provided you during that… Mess." The Fox crossed his arms "Although you did cost me three burner phones and my sanity… Do you know how hard it was to hide from those guys? They are such brutes…!"

"Why, it wasn't that difficult, seeing how you skillfully hid that knife in my jacket while I was resting, at your place." I conceded.

"I really could have killed you then, right?"

"How would I have known which pocket the knife was in if I wasn't already aware…?" I asked smugly.

"Raaah you…!" He whined "Let me tell you, you're annoying, the worst client I've ever had…!"

"Fox…"

"You're never satisfied and always act so condescending…!" He pointed a wagging finger at me.

"Hey, Fox…"

"It's not my fault you're more witted than me…! Next time, get your information by yourself…!" He exclaimed.

"Fox!"

"What now…?!"

"Thank you." I smiled at him.

"You — Wait, what…?"

"Thank you." I repeated "Without you, I wouldn't have been able to win."

It was impossible to suppress an entire organisation alone, but I had not been by myself. In the shadows, that genius informer had been assisting me. And I was most grateful to him.

"W-Well, you're welcome…" He mumbled "Just did my job… Besides…"

He sighed heavily.

"I received a message from my mentor… He told me to help you whenever you needed, even for free…! I couldn't refuse…"

"Your mentor…?" I blinked.

"I inherited his casino when he stopped his activities. But I can't tell you his name…"

I could not help the laugh which escaped my throat, a real, sincerely amused one, which managed to bring tears to my eyes. I had been outdone, this time…!

"It's Uemura-san, isn't it?" I asked, trying to calm down.

"What…? How did you know even that…!"

"He was an informer for the Port Mafia, after all…" I recalled "And I had gone to him before asking for your services."

"So you didn't even think about me first…?! I'm upset…" He pouted.

"But I truly do not regret working with you." I admitted "You even surpass him, now…"

"So… That means I'll have to assist you more, from now on…?" He grimaced.

"Unfortunately, I didn't keep my words to Uemura-san… I am unable to join the Agency with… That." I showed him the scene "So it's the first and last time…"

"That's too bad…" He muttered "You're an interesting person…"

"I thought I was the worst customer?" He smirked.

"Customer…! But as a… Collaborator, you're not that bad…"

"I'll take that compliment~"

We left each other respectfully and I watched as he walked back to the shadows. As to me… What could I do, now that I had failed the entrance test…? I hoped that, at least, Dazai will keep giving me sleep… What if he refused to see me because I had failed his expectations…? I did not want to think about it and simply carried the boy to the Armed Detective Agency, where they would be able to take care of him.

I gently put him in front of the door and knocked so someone would find him. There was nothing more I could do for that family… The moment I turned around to leave the building, someone called my name.

"Ogawa."

I was embarrassed — no, even worse, I was ashamed. That person had trusted me despite our differences… I did not want to turn around and show him how tainted I truly was, both physically and emotionally. I stayed stunned in the middle of the corridor.

"Are you really going to leave him there? Won't you take him to his mother?" Kuninida asked me.

"... I cannot…" I murmured.

"You know, there is a stain on your pants…" He noted.

My cheeks heated up violently, and I wanted to bury myself in a hole. If only I had left earlier, instead of staring at the peaceful boy's face… I clenched my fists.

"Is that so…?" I did my best so my voice would not sound cracked.

"Well…" I heard him grumble "It's normal, after all… It was such a mess in that warehouse. It's a miracle that the boy survived whereas that shooting occurred. All of that for drugs, can you believe it?"

I glanced over my shoulder slightly.

"What… What did you say…?"

"The group working for Taikin-san suddenly got greedy and wanted to get the drugs for themselves, which resulted in a fight. I thought you knew?" He explained.

I decided, finally, that I would face him. Upon seeing the blood on my clothes, his eyebrows did not even twitch. He was aware of my deeds, and yet… Was it not odd, coming from him…? He had always obsessively respected his ideals. I had killed people while working for the Armed Detective Agency… He could not possibly be covering for me nor accepting my actions…?

"W-Well… I'm not sure…"

"This is the official version, what we will say to Yumiko-san, what the people will know. You were… Outstandingly discreet, I must say…" He readjusted his glasses "There were some losses, and I have a lot to blame you for, but all in all… You kind of… Did a good job. That's the least I can say."

"Kunikida…" My facade of confidence shattered "Thank you… I… I am so sorry… I killed our culprit… I went against the law and your moral… I don't deserve… I don't deserve your words…"

"Why, that's for sure…!" He huffed "While you were away, we found and arrested the bomber, and you know what happened? A man came and stopped us…! He said we had no right to take him away, since a detective had made a deal with him to pay for information…! You ought to explain that, Ogawa…!"

"Where to begin…?" I managed to smile, wiping my tears away "I had no more money…"

"All of that to get us a forged warrant…" He sighed "But thanks to that, we could solve the case… As we're talking, Dazai is arresting Nozaki the Grand for cooperating in Taikin-san's schemes. Once Yumiko-san is freed from hypnosis, she will recover, then will be able to raise Sakunosuke-kun."

"... What about the maid who wanted to sue me…?"

"She will most certainly give up when her teacher gives her name to the police." He shrugged "There is no need to worry about her."

"So it's all over…?"

"All over. Thanks to you, detective." He smiled at me.

"I… What…? Why…?"

"In fact, it is still too soon to call you that but… I gave the director my approval for you to join us. I thought you had to know…"

"But… I brought nothing but troubles… I used illegal means to investigate, let a bomber go, eliminated our culprit… Truly, I didn't do a single right thing…!"

"You did." Kunikida assured me "You dedicated yourself to the case, because you truly wanted to protect the kids… Even if you partly failed… What matters is that you worked with these people's best interests in mind. And it suits the Agency's requirements to enter it."

"I… I was aware it was a test of some sort…" I confessed "It wasn't out of pure… You know… Out of good will…"

"Dazai told me you were aware and I took it into account, don't worry about that. There is always an entrance exam for our new members, to test their values and whether they are able to bear the title of detective. And I, the jury, decided that you passed." He told me.

I knew better than questioning his judgement. He who was so righteous had accepted me in the Agency, as a member… It was not a sweet lie, coming from him… These were words I could trust, and words I wanted to live up to. They made me proud of my person, for the first time in my life, and I wanted to cherish them. From that moment on, I would become a detective, and I would become a better human.

[horrordeny]

nightmare meme / always accepting / @shoreabove “There’s really nobody else here.” - Emma 

 All things considered Hatchetfield’s community college library isn’t the worst place Scout’s ever freaked out (English class, the first half of senior year, she’d fallen asleep during Mr Hall’s lecture about Hamlet and woken up fifteen minutes later with a scream that was the talk of the school for months) but it-well, it’s up there. She’s just so tired, sleep has always been a bit hit and miss for Scout but these days her nightmares are worse and she knows it’s probably just the stress of class and work and trying to make rent, she does but that doesn’t stop the lurching fear in her stomach every time she feels herself yawn. The library is warm and quiet though, and her anatomy textbook is dull, so it’s really no surprise at all when she falls asleep without even realising it. 

There is a man in the library, and he is watching her. Scout recognises him, could swear she’s met him before though she’s not sure where. Wilber Cross, her mind supplies, as the man continues to stare at her with his face stony and unreadable. Next to Scout, Emma continues to stare at her biology textbook either not noticing or not caring about the sudden shift in the library’s atmosphere. Hesitantly Scout stands up and walks towards Cross who is still just staring at her with unkind eyes. 

“What do you want?” asks Scout, wincing at the loudness of her voice in the unnatural silence of the library. She remembers, now, where she’s met this man before. A few times while she’s been working at Toy Zone she’s seen him, always staring, always looking at her like he’s planning how best to dispose of her body. Whenever she asks Lex about it, she just looks at her funny and shakes her head. Here in the library Wilber Cross grins, slow and animal like offering her a flash of teeth Scout could swear are just on the edge of too sharp. 

“Oh it’s not about what I want,” he drawls in a thick southern accent, “it’s about what He wants, and it’s about if you’re gonna try and stand in His way or not.”  Cross grins again then, as if they’re in on a secret, and reaches out to grab Scout by the wrist. More than the man’s unnaturally strong grip or the bruises she can feel forming under his fingers, Scout is more taken aback by how cold his hand is-like being grabbed by a block of ice, or a corpse. “So let me give you on quick piece of advice Ms Daley: the world is changin’ and when it does you better be ready to stand with Him, or else you’re going to be in for a whole world of pain.” he winks then, opens his mouth and tips his head back and laughs and-

In the library, the real one, Scout wakes with a cry of terror and jerks so violently she falls off her chair and onto the carpeted floor. A few patrons glance at her, annoyed or simply curious, but she doesn’t see them. Instead she scrabbles to her feet, back colliding with the desk and eyes darting around frantically for any sign of Cross. Emma’s hand touches her shoulder and Scout jumps violently again, heart in her throat. 

“Where did he go he was right-he was right there I saw him-you must have seen him he was right there-” her voice catches and cracks with fear and desperation and the small part of Scout’s brain not blind with panic knows how she must look, how she must sound, rambling incoherently about figures no one else can see but that was real-if nothing else the red, bruising skin around her wrist is proof that someone grabbed her. 

“There’s really nobody else here,” says Emma, and there’s-she looks concerned, maybe, or afraid-whatever the emotion clouding her friends face is Scout doesn’t have time to figure it out. The handful of other students are still staring at her, or whispering to their friends and Scout feels her cheeks flush with shame and embarrassment. Six years, six fucking years since she left Myrtle Springs and here she is, freaking out in public once again because she can’t tell the difference between a dream and real life. 

“I’m sorry-I should-I gotta-I gotta go, sorry-” she stammers, shoving her books into her bag and turning away from any attempt Emma may make to stop her. It’s not until she’s out of the library and off campus that Scout finally stops, slumping against a wall and blinking away burning tears of embarrassment and frustration. Her wrist aches, and the ghost of a handprint has bruised the flesh purple and red. 

[allstarsstorymode867]

All-Stars -Story Mode- CHAPTER 5 [RE-EDITED]

I had decided to re-edited this chapter since I had gotten better at my writing. I had add new words and editted out mistakes. Please enjoy the Chapter. ^^

-Chapter 5-

-Later on after 12 hours passed…-

Demoman was sleeping in his bed, passed out drunk for close to 12 hours, nearly to 13 if longer, ‘’what a nap!’’ I wrote here.

Clank! Bang! Clink!

Demoman, his real name being Tavish Finnegan DeGroot, heard a hammer hitting from outside of his room and it caused Demoman’s eyes-er, eye to flutter open, his brown eye now opened as he come to terms with the realization that it’s 4:00 in the morning, he listened for a moment for the sound and sure enough it did, so he just layed back down on the bed.

Bang! Bang! Clink! Clank!

he tried to go back to sleep but the sound of hammer hitting the nail had persisted through from outside his room, causing the black scottish man to groan “That bloody toymaker….!” in annoyance and then getting out of his warm bed as his head swirls from a hangover he had last night. He grabbed his eye-patch and then tied on his left eye that had been lost as he thought ‘’Why the bloody hell would he be makin’ something in 4:00 o’clock in the morning?’’

He jumped when a thunderbolt crackled from the sky, he groaned ‘’Bloody hell…Not right now storm…’’ and then in nothing but a tank-top and boxers, he stumbled out of his dorm room and then into the hallway to get to the main room that has the nearest exit.

Bang! Clack! Clank! Bang!

He stumbled to the door as he places both hands on it to steady his balance while he muttered “Engie, keep that racket down...!”, then he goes to the doorknob then turns it, opening the door and letting himself through it and into the lobby with his throbbing legs from a hurting hangover, he was expecting Engineer was working on his one of his buildings as usual but what he didn’t expect was to find his team with four men he had never seen before all in the lobby together, boarding up the windows as his eye went wide open upon seeing this.

“Yes, they are indeed taking a blood sample from one of them just in case a vaccine will be made if it is…. No Miss Pauling, we do not know if it’s a wide pandemic or not, it’s a chance to see this though… Yes, yes…” Spy speaking into a microphone attached to an old radio that was once used in World War II too.

Two doctors and Engineer are at the table with a corpse wearing a nazi uniform and it appeared to be it had been into some kind of accident. Medic said ‘’Und it brought zhem back to life?’’ to Richtofen who nodded as he gave Medic a scalpel and then unscrews a cap from a syringe before carefully giving it to his fellow German doctor..

‘’Of course, 115 may be solution for power and making veapons warfare but it can be like a virus if you’re exposed to it or having it injected into you with too much doses.’’

‘’If a rock of it is in you?’’ Engineer questioned as he cutted it’s liver out with a scalpel, then he handed the severed liver with brownish red blood covering it to Medic who simply took it like it was a normal medical operation.

‘’If it’s been shoved in you, there’s a slight chance of you turning one of zhem or become a superbeing if not two rocks at once, Nazis had once tried zhis, und it’s the result of two rocks in one body.’’ Richtofen answered as he handed it to Medic.

‘’But uh, it’s dead right? I mean ‘’Dead dead’’ dead right?’’ Scout asked as he rubbed his arm up and down uncomfortable when he saw the corpse of a zombie in the lobby with them. “We wouldn’t have to worry about them right?

“Wrong, Scout.” Takeo answered as he kept his attention on his sword stained in the blood of the fallen before continued with ‘’But unless you cut of its head or destroy it Scout.’’ as he cleans his katana sword with a cloth while he sits down.

“Zhe samurai has a point, Herr Scout.” Medic mumbled as he puts on a glass plate that is used for samples from germs and something medical, he then gets an empty syringe and then plunged the needle into the liver and slowly and carefully pulled the plunge back, drawing and filling the syringe with the blood of the undead as he said “Zhese creatures vere like us, zhey can be killed vhen ve go for zhe head.”

‘’Yes… Of course we will… What?! They are after you for…? Fantastic….’’ Spy spoke as he’s taking a cigarette between his fingers. Demoman was completely speechless upon seeing this, he was in shock and silent in horror of the scene before him, he had no idea what to do as he became fully sober enough during this till Scout noticed him, smiled and said, ‘’Hey! Look who woke up!’’

Everyone looked at Demoman in unison, Takeo was ready to fight but Nikolai stopped him as he held his hand out to halt as he whispered “Wait Takeo.”

‘’Good morning Demoman!’’ Soldier greeted with a smile as Scout said ‘’It’s still night Solly.’’

Demoman finally snapped out of his shock as he finally found the words for him to say it out, he yelled ‘’BLOODY HELL!! What is that thing?!!’’ as he points at the corpse, demanding answers from anyone in the room.

Suddenly, Spy then groans in frustration ‘’UGH! Alright fine!” before turning off the radio, ending the conversion with her and then putting it away in his hidden coat pocket then turning to everyone and saying “She says we all have to get to her quickly.’’ as Heavy looked over at Spy with concern, ‘’Mrs. Pauling had said that? Where was she? Is she alright?’’ he asked the Frenchman.

‘’Yes, she is but she is now hiding from some type of otherworldly army she called ‘’The Helghast” with a ruthless colonel named ‘’Colonel Mael Radec’’ or someone other who now out looking for her so,’’ Spy turns to face everyone again ‘’This may be or not be worse than those dead things outside but now we are her only hope of rescue.’’

‘’Could someone tell me what is going on?!’’ Demo demanded with anger toning his voice, then hard knocking came from the door winch nearly jumped and were going for their guns but they heard Sniper’s voice calling out like an alarm.

‘’It’s me! Let me in!’’

Heavy undid the board that was keeping the door closed to prevent the dead from getting in, opening the door for Sniper to get in and when they looked at him, with ripped vines and flower petals all over him a little bit, he looked like he had gone to a garden that has been created by none other than the Devil himself. ‘’I’m sorry mates, I couldn’t clear a path to the bloody train…’’

‘’What? What happened?’’ Takeo questioned with concerned and worry had printed on his face, Sniper grabbed one vine that is on his right shoulder and threw it on the ground as he said ‘’I know this is crazy for me to say but a big deadly flower had blocked the way, I fought back but it just kicked my a@# and handed it to me with no trouble at all!’’

Now Dempsey isn’t the only one that everyone thought had finally gone crazy, he said, ‘’Are you serious?’’

‘’Aye, unlike the man with a dice for a he-’’

‘’DON’T start it up Sniper.’’

‘’Speaking of deadly flowers, are you alright Sniper?’’ Nikolai said as Pyro got up and handed Sniper their blanket with ducks on it they had covered them, Sniper grasped lightly on the cloth as he looked down ‘’”Define” Alright Nik… Thanks Pyro.’’

“You’re welcome!” Pyro mumthed.

‘’Can we all make this quick please? I want to be paid very quick and well for this job.’’ Spy stated as Scout walked by with a bat on his shoulder as he muttered ‘’If we survive…’’

‘’UGH!! First ve’ve been sent to medieval times in zhe Middle Ages period und now this!’’ Medic declared angrily as he threw both the scalpel and the blood-filled syringe but luckily Engineer caught it by it’s plunger thankfully not the tipped needle as he yelled ‘’Doc!’’

Engineer held it as the Medic calmed down then put the cap on the needle so they could use it later for research then looked at the Medic.

‘’It’s not really everyone’s fault for this, it’s not like the last time after what the other Doctor told us.’’ the Taxen assured him, Demoman’s went wide as he closed the door upon hearing what was happening while he was asleep.

‘’No way! Did we travel back in time again?!’’ Demoman exclaimed towards the two geniuses, ‘’Nein, zhis may like it but on the other zhis time Demoman.’’ Medic explained as he retrieved the scalpel but Engineer steadied him to hestaition as he said ‘’That’s quite enough for right now Doc.’’

‘’And you must be Demoman?’’ Takeo asked as he looked at the black scottish man with an eyepatch, ‘’Aye, who is asking ye? Are ye with--’’

‘’It’s alright Demo, they’re with us for right now man.’’ Scout said as he held his hands up to gesture to him to calm down. ‘’True, they became our allies after they helped us killed these undead rotten ugly creatures known as--’’ Spy said till he was cut off by Demoman saying ‘’They were zombies you killed?’’

‘’You knew what Spy was saying?’’ Dempsey asked.

‘’Me ma once told me a lot about these things and what they will do, she told me that the only way to destroy them is-’’

‘’Is to go for the bloody head, thanks, we learned that already.’’ Sniper interrupted as he looked at the Scottish with anger because he had slept through everything like a rock. ‘’Listen, vhatever happening here is something else threatening the multiverse zhan another one previously. Vinch ve are trying to figure it out right now.’’ Richtofen told them, Demoman turned to everyone with shock.

‘’Multiverse? Where are we then?! What happened here while I was asleep!?’’ Demoman demanded, Medic turned and walked over to the Scottish with an angry expression and said ‘’You didn’t zhink zhat we vould be zhe same predicament as you?! Ve vere fighting vave after vave of zombies zhat tried to kill us for zhe past 12 hours! Und vhat had surprised me zhe most is zhat your own bombs didn’t voke you up!’’

‘’Hey Doc, I was drunk! How can it be happening?! With random people from different world this time?!’’

‘’Not only different worlds but different timelines of each universe,’’ Edward once again began ‘’I had no idea vho or vhat was bringing us here but I am sure zhat ve can stop it.’’

‘’How can we do dat when we’re the ones that need to be savin’?’’

‘’I don’t know!’’

‘’If we got here first and already met people from different worlds across time and space, there’s no doubt that there is more to come than zombies.’’

‘’Tank’s right ‘bout that.’’ Engineer added as he cleans his hand with a cloth as it was stained in blood.

‘’We need to destroy the enemy before it gets worse in this war! For the good of mankind and the universe!’’

‘’Soldier, we need help if we were going to do so.’’

‘’And we are going to need a lot of help we can get,’’ Nikolai corrected Engineer as he walked up to one of the boarded up windows, ‘’Things are going down hill from where we stood.’’ as he was looking through the wood boards he can clearly see 5 helicopters flying by across the plains just outside of the fortress as zombies took notice of them.

Everyone then goes to the windows to watch the dead looking at the aircrafts going by towards the far south.

They then began to follow the copters away towards the south as others stood back and watched them leave the area with relative peace.

‘’Well, at least they are leaving us alone for frickin’ once.’’ Scout sighed in relief as Richtofen perked up ‘’For now until dawn. Best not let our hopes up high just yet.’’

Dempsey turned to everyone as he loaded his pistol once more.

‘’It is almost dawn, better be ready for what comes next.’’ Dempsey said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It’s now 7:00 AM after three hours of sleep, as the sun slowly rises from the horizon overlooking the fortress, zombies had left the area overnight after the helicopters as they headed for the south.

*New day is here.

Back in the lobby, the group are preparing themselves for a mission to rescue their employer in distress. They talk amongst each other while they’re preparing, wondering what they will do next after she was rescued from this otherworldly army.

‘’Hey! Give dat back!’’

‘’Nah!’’

Sniper was looking at the comic that he had taken from Scout’s hands awhile he chuckled, Takeo is sharpening his sword as well cleaning off the blood off it, Nikolai is helping Engineer and Heavy packed up canned food and bottled water they will need for the trip, Engineer had invented a pocket-like device for each member in his team; he called Back-Pit, it would contain anything for survival: Tents, Weapons, clothing, food, water, anything you need when you’re going camping!

Primis Crew had never seen and used Back-Pit that engineers had invented since they were from the early 1900’s but he showed them instructions on how to use it since he had written down notes to go with each device after he had stayed up all night working on it.

‘’Is everyone ready for this mission yet?’’ Spy said as he took a drag of cigarette while everyone turned to face him and Medic all dressed up and ready.

They are in their usual clothing when they wear it in war games, ‘’Uh, guys? Do you think that ya be worried about getting them dirty?’’

‘’Nein herr Scout,’’ Medic answered, ‘’Besides, we can’t be mercenaries if we can’t look our best.’’ Spy added to winch Scout shrugged as he said ‘’Okay then, but don’t come crying to me when you’re all covered in mud and blood-’’

‘’We are always covered in mud and blood everyday Scout.’’ They both said as Dempsey chuckled humorlessly.

*Burned.

Scout glared at them two supporting mercs while Soldier and Demoman are looking at the weapons on the wall, then a sword sheathed on the Scottish’s back suddenly spoke up ‘’Do we really have to chop off zombies’ head?’’

‘’So, you’re bringing the Eyelander.’’ Soldier said as he looked at his friend, ‘’Aye, if I had ever ran out of ammunition, I would use him since I had own him.’’

‘’But do we really have to kill zombies? I want to chop off the Helghast heads instead.’’ Eyelander complained as Demo’s eye turned yellow, to winch he replied ‘’Shut up ye overgrown toothpick.’’

‘’Are you sure? Your eye is turning yellow. I don’t think it’s such a good idea.’’

‘’I can control him Jane, trust me.’’ Demoman assured him, then he looked over to the photo that the Soldier had in his hand. ‘’And ye’re taking her photo with you on this trip.’’

‘’Yeah, I am.’’

He calmly holds the photo of Zhanna, Heavy’s sister to winch he loves when he first meets her as he looks at the photo. Spy then begins to speak up ‘’Gentlemen, this is now the one thing we may have never experienced before in our lives. Never once we would’ve thought of this might happen again but differently this time with enemies we have never known. As long we will fin--’’

‘’Don’t give off the speech Spy, we don’t even know what was out there. Out there is all f*&%ed up! We’re all gonna die, over and over, this is much worse that dat!’’

‘’Don’t doubt everyone about this Private! We are going to survive this war!’’

‘’OoOoh yeah, like that would be comforting to know Soldier when these things could come back!’’

‘’If you know what was good for ya, you would shut it before you will say something you might regret maggot!’’

‘’ENOUGH!!’’

Heavy’s yell silenced everyone in the room around him, Scout had muttered something then walked away.

‘’Yelling at each other isn’t going to help anyone in this problem, we have to be ready for war.’’ Heavy said as he tossed a backpack onto his back then turned back to face everyone ‘’And crush little dead men along the way.’’

‘’Alright then.’’

Engineer then looked over to Pyro who was holding and looking at the Balloonicorn in their hands, they looked worried as they kept looking at it. Engineer walked over to Pyro, placed his hand on their shoulder, smiled softly and said ‘’Pyro, don’t worry about him, he’ll wait for us till all of this is over and done with. Just make sure you bring ammo and warm clothes with you okay?’’

As Takeo and Nikolai looked over to the two, the sergeant wondered if Pyro was like this before. More likely long before these… events happened, ‘’Maybe they had a mind of a child.’’ he thought.

‘’Still though,’’ Spy began once more ‘’as soon after we found her and mission accomplished, 9 of us and four of them will go on our separate ways before she would notice them.’’

Dempsey looked at the French with a mix of anger and confusion, ‘’Why would she notice us with-’’

‘’Mistakes you four for mercenaries and gets all of you hired? It’s what I am concerned of at the least of it.’’

‘’But ve are not mercenaries, are from a different plane of existence. Vhy is zhere a reason for her to-’’

‘’It’ll be based on judging your talents you’ve got, since you are from a different universe and all.’’

‘’I see.’’ Takeo said as he looked the other way as his allies did the same.

Sniper looked down as Engineer took noticed that other of his teammates is worried, so he asked ‘’Is there something wrong?’’

‘’The only way out of this area is by train, but we can’t get to it because of a bloody giant flower.’’

‘’Even if you’re really crazy for being alone too long or not, you are still a part of the team through the Gravel War and through when robots tried to destroy Mann Co. There’s nothing we can’t fight back Sniper.’’

Sniper looked at the Texen as his hands rested on his arms after he crossed them, he then smiled softly as he said ‘’I am willing to bet that we can still win Engie.’’

After preparing for the journey ahead, they picked up their weapons and headed out through the doors, leaving the lobby behind to find Mrs. Pauling and rescue her with a song in their hearts but just in case the zombies are still around, they stayed cautious and keep their eyes open for anything with legs and is dead.

They had looked around as they walked past the corpses they killed a day before and passed the Panser that tried to kill them as Demoman looked at it with curiosity. ‘’Could any one of ye explain this to me?’’ Demoman asked the Spy who was walking beside him.

‘’The day before?’’

‘’The day before I woke up lad, please’’

‘’Well, while you were asleep, we were transported to this part of the world but in a different dimension somehow. Then Medic met Richtofen who is the doctor like him but from a different timeline like us, then more things happened when we met Dempsey, Takeo and Nikolai long before I met them in the Respawn Room before Soldier destroys it with the RPG. when 12 of us were finished killing off the dead, the armored zombie, to switch the Samurai called it the ‘’Panzer Soldat’’ from what I can recall, came out of the sky then tried to kill us but Heavy, Medic, Scout and Engie had killed it first before it could. As much as you can tell, I know that you couldn’t believe it on what we saw, if it’s not going well with you, then your mind is more f*&$ed up than it was.’’ Spy told the black Scottish man.

‘’Ah… I see that now...’’

‘’But still, you were their demotion expert, why were you drunk at a time like this?’’

‘’I didn’t realize it was bad timing till now, I had been an alcoholic, even when my liver left me then came back. Yet I’ve still alive for you to have a sobered Demoman until the mission is over!’’

Nikolai looked at Demoman who had his eye closed with a confident smile with a stare before saying ‘’...And what good will come from that?’’

‘’Roasted’’ The Eyelander spoke as Demoman went wide eyed upon hearing this response from Nikolai, he turned away as he said ‘’W-well, when ye’re in the same slate as me after you sleep through the whole bloody thing, ya’ll be something like…’’ he then looked over to a rock before saying ‘’A rock!’’

‘’Why a rock, Demoman?’’ Nikolai asked.

‘’It’s uh… represents strength a-and if it had been hit by a hammer, over and over until it breaks into a few pieces to winch… You can repair with what’s left of it into something new and making it more stronger with others for you to help.’’

Nikolai gave him a look of confusion as he said ‘’Are you sure that you are not drunk before this?’’

‘’Demoman means to say is to keeping your spirit strong despite being broken already and staying with close to your friends Nikorai.’’ Takeo corrected.

‘’Exactly lad!’’

‘’Even after the Em-’’

‘’I KNOW Nikorai and I rather not speak of it in the moment.’’ the samurai sneered as he walked faster away from the Russian and Scottish. ‘’Was there something wrong with him in the past?’’

‘’Of course, but he would keep an eye on those who would do things that will betray his trust and to where the suspicions and betrayal come from; he rather not speak about it in the moment Demoman.’’ he said as he too walked fast away from Demoman to catch up to Takeo, leaving him alone with the sword on his back.

‘’In his words; In life you can easily trust someone, but once the trust is broken its very difficult to trust anyone again.’’ Eyelander quoted as Demoman glared him with envy and anger ‘’Oh, now ye’re the one being wise?’’

‘’Someone needs to be taught about such things Demo, now about the heads-’’

‘’You will have the chance to do so in a moment after we deal with these zombies first Eyelander.’’ Demoman said as he kept walking to catch up with the others as they followed Sniper to where the train station is.

They expected to find a road clear to the railway but it was blocked off… with vines with thorns, everyone looked at the vines with confusion and curiosity. ‘’They…. Weren’t here yesterday when we were here.’’

‘’Why were there vines here man?’’

‘’I don’t know’’

‘’Something’s not right about it…’’

They whispered amongst each other as they looked around the area then at the vine, Takeo suddenly getting the feeling about these vines, they reminded him of the vines back on the island after his other self was betrayed by… No, no no. he can’t think about it right now, something else is controlling them and it’s not a Thrasher this time.

‘’Sniper?’’

‘’Yeah mate?’’

‘’Was this the ‘flower’ doing this?’’

‘’Yeah.’’

‘’If it’s really doing this, we should follow the vine to the source of this.’’ Takeo stated, Sniper nodded to this agreement as others began to think of the same thing to investigate. So they followed the vines to the railway station where they spotted something that wasn’t there before: an orange petal peeking over from the roof.

This strengthens their curiosity upon seeing the petal, why is there an orange petal peeking out from the roof? Takeo looked at the petal in confusion, he had never seen a flower that big before, not big enough to have it’s petals peeking over from the roof of a train station.

Takeo then gets a feeling that this is no normal flower and it may be dangerous as he said ‘’I now believe this is the flower that Sniper spoke of, we need to remain cautious for this.’’

‘’I was going to say the same thing about it Takeo.’’ Spy said as he got a revolver out from the back pocket of his coat while they walked towards the entrance to the station and saw there was a giant flower but…

Meeting Cagney Carnation

Not like what Sniper had said, it looked like a harmless friendly giant flower as he gently held his leaf-hands to his face like he was very shy when he saw a group of humans come to him in full view with dumbfounded looks on their faces.

‘’Heh… Cute.’’ Scout commented as he placed the bat over his shoulder.

‘’A ’Deadly Flower’ huh? Unbelievable… Un. Believable…’’ Spy groaned in disbelief.

Sniper too was in disbelief upon this discovery, this isn’t what he remembered when he first encountered him last night and as for Takeo, looked at the giant flower with shock but for a reason he held on as he looked at it, the feeling of danger gotten stronger and didn’t fade away without fail.

‘’My my…’’ Flower began to speak that startled everyone ‘’Hello there little humans!’’ with a kind cherry voice as Pyro waved hello to the flower as they mumbled ‘’hello! Who are you cute flower?’’ in an excited child voice.

‘’Oh how nice of you! My name is Cagney, Cagney Carnation.’’ the flower introduced himself, then he asked ‘’Golly, what brings you all here to this train station?’’

‘’We need to ride the train out of here Mr. Carnation. We are doing something very important so, if you could kindly move the vines away so we can be on our way.’’ Spy answered, ‘’Spy…!’’ Takeo mustered a worried tone under his breath as Sniper looked .

‘’Oh really? You want to go through to get to the train?’’ Cagney asked.

‘’Yeah, that’s why we came here for man.’’ Scout said with a confident smile, ‘’If you want to go through me…’’ the Flower’s tone suddenly turned sinister that caught everyone off guard by this sudden change in this endeavor.

‘’Then you’ll just have to fight me…’’ He continued as the group noticed Cagney’s friendly form begins to change; thorns grew on his stem, leafs turned hands as he covered his face from everyone as they watched the flower turned.

‘’Then rip it off from my cold dead VINES!!!’’

Cagney’s 1st phase

Everyone looked at the flower with terrified expressions, as Sniper said ‘’See what I mean?’’

‘’Yes, yes we now do see it, you are a man of your word.’’ Spy said while Heavy nodded, Dempsey then loads the StG-44 as he said ‘’Less talking, more fighting!’’

‘’If you can fight!’’ Cagney said as he sent the vines flying through the air, Everyone tried to run but ended up being wrapped up in vines one by one as they tried to dash to different directions. Well, all but Takeo and Scout.

*The vines had captured your new found friends and allies, *All but you two. *It is now harvest time.

‘’Takeo! Do what the text said to do!’’ Nikolai shouted as he struggled to break free from the vines with the others. Takeo and Scout turned to face the Carnation who is doing a dance, ‘’Fools who attempt to fight this will leave with allergic rhinitis!’’ the flower taunted at them with the overconfident smile.

‘’Unless you will be cut down like a tree!’’ Takeo spat back as Scout nodded while he readies the bat to attack. Cagney’s head then turns into something that resembles a gatling gun with the hand on the crank and then turns it to fire seeds at the air and then fall onto the duo.

‘’Incoming Tak!’’ Scout shouted as he ran to the left, Takeo ran towards the right as seeds came crashing down from the sky as Cagney’s head changed back. ‘’Good job but can you dodge THIS!?’’ he said before luging his face towards the two with his hands wigging.

‘’OH GOD THAT IS JUST CREEPY AS @#$%!!’’ Scout screamed as he and Takeo ducked and covered their heads from Cagney’s attack, Takeo then noticed the Ray Gun that Richtofen dropped on the ground after the vines got him, he crawled for it and then grabbed it then aimed at the flower and opened fire.

Cagney hissed in pain as he contacted his face back to his head to rub it and feel the marks where the Ray Gun had left, to winch he turned angry as he said ‘’Oh not like the other time I had been beaten! Not like the last time!’’ Then he put both his hands together then made three acorns appear as he spread his hands apart as they spun.

Then they quickly stopped spinning then fly towards the two, Scout dodges the acorns but was hit by one of them as he screamed in pain ‘’Medic!’’

‘’I am occupied in the moment Scout!’’ Medic shouted out towards his injured teammate as he struggled.

Cagney then does his magic hands trick again, Takeo then gets his sword out, turns it to the blunt side and then hits all three at the right timing to send flying fast back to Cagney with full hitting force.

One hit the side of his head, one hit him on the left arm then last one hit him on the stem and he became furious than ever as he pulled on his own petals in frustration. ‘’Grrr… NOW you asked for it!’’

‘’Asked for what??’’ Everyone asked that question, to winch Cagney answered ‘’THIS!’’

Then the Flower buries his arms into the ground as Takeo and Scout looked down at it in shock as they felt rumbling while the small pebbles are shaking and hopping, then sudden vines sprouted out of the ground, taking three chunks of the ground with the samurai and RED Member with them as Cagney’s appearance changed once again to more monstrous look; his teeth had become sharpen, his petals became sharpen and straighten and more thorns and vines covered his stem, making it tougher than leather armor.

(From Cuphead Wiki respectively)

‘’Extreme pollination and total domination!’’

Cagney then laughed hard at them as his tongue turned hand-like and pointed at them in a funny manner. ‘’I can’t decide what is worse: The bread monster or him!’’ Engineer shouted as he watched helplessly with everyone who gave up struggling to get free from the vines that wrapped them up.

‘’If this is the worse thing up to this point, then yeah!’’ Scout shouted as he rummaged through his bag for his scattergun as Takeo stood for his defense. Cagney then launched his attack on the two, vines rose up from below and they had to jump over to the next platform before the vines would fully wrapped all over the previous one.

‘’Hurry Scout!’’

‘’I AM hurrying!!’’

Scout then began to rummage through his bag faster for his scattergun as if his life depended on it as Takeo was cutting through the vines with the sword til Scout finally found it and got it ready for him to open fire at the flower as Takeo does the same.

Cagney screamed in pain then growled as he launched vines at them once again from below, Takeo jumped to the middle platform but Scout wasn’t fast enough to escape the vines in time as he was caught in them, making Takeo turn around in surprise.

‘’Scout!’’

‘’Go on man! Don’t worry ‘bout me! I’ll be alright!’’ Scout said as he struggled to break free from the vines. ‘’Oh I won’t be worrying about him if I were him,’’ Carnation stated ‘’You will never know when life was being squeezed outta ya!’’ then begins to squeeze everyone, causing everyone gasping for air for a few moments until he’s done as Takeo yelled ‘’No!!’’

‘’And what are ya going to do about it?’’ Cagney smiled a smirk.

‘’I will defeat you, you dishonorable carnation!’’ The samurai spat at the flower who let out a laugh with a confident grin. ‘’And how are ya going to do that?’’

Then the officer took out his sword and then swung it at the vine, cutting it as it was going towards him, Cagney winced in pain at the sudden stinging feeling but was soon being under fire by Takeo with the Ray Gun.

Cagney then roared and fought back with pink and purple bullets at Takeo, he reacted and struck the pink bullets first to his surprise they disappeared as soon as he hit them but he immediately knew that the purple ones didn’t do the same as their pink counterparts.

Vines under the platform he was on were about to attack but he somehow knew there was a vine then jumped to the next platform, much closer to the deadly flower with a glare as Cagney grinned wider.

Before he could attack, Takeo opened fire on the flower with the raygun, he screamed in pain as the samurai kept firing at him.

‘’Hey! Stop! STTTOOOOOOPPPP IIIITTT!!!!’’

Takeo fired one last shot at Cagney, finally defeated him in his own game as he was screaming to the sky while his eyes became black and hollow as Takeo watched.

Knockout!

You won! Reward: 50 Gold and a Fabled Ribbon

Cagney eventually stopped screaming as the vines dropped his comrades to the ground, some of them fell flat on their faces while most of them landed gracefully on their feet and looked over to Takeo.

‘’Takeo! You have saved us all!’’ Nikolai started,

‘’You have killed the enemy’s super weapon!’’ Soldier proclaimed.

‘’It may be but I can tell that this isn’t what 115 would do to plants like how it did some of them on an island.’’ Takeo said as he looked at Cagney, then a bird came by and landed on one of the vines before pecking on it.

‘’Still Takeo, you had saved us from zhis flower und killed it.’’ Richtofen said as he walked over to the plant, examining it in detail as he noticed it is cartoon-like, ‘’Mate, this is…’’ Sniper said as he is somewhat satisfied with Takeo defeating Cagney but disturbed to seeing him like this.

‘’This is… Is the creepy sight…’’

Heavy then perked up ‘’Little Japanese had killed flower but it is too easy.’’ as he pointed at the fallen flower as Richtofen walked over to the fallen flower.

‘’Herr Heavy is quite right about it, it seemed that you can’t beat zhe dandelion zhat easily vith just one person.’’

Richtofen then knocked on the stem, only an echoed hollow thunk responded as he knocked on it again while he said ‘’Unless you vere counting on something zhat is killable but zhis isn’t it, it’s hollow! A husk even.’’

‘’Hollow?’’ Takeo asked.

‘’The flower’s unkillable?? Aw man! If this day can’t even worse than this.’’ Scout said as he cautiously looked around nervously for any signs of the flower that tried to kill them with no mercy.

‘’Calm down herr Scout, if... Cagney is it? If Cagney really is unkillable and leaves his old body as a husk zhen there’s a chance he will-’’ Medic said as he noticed something on the ground that had sprouted and began wiggling, something green and some type of a leaf as if it’s dying to be a plant,

Medic smiled upon this discovery and said ‘’Ah! Exactly as I thought he vould do! Don’t vorry Mr. Carnation, I am zhe doctor. Let me help you out of zhe dirt.’’ then grabs the leaf between his index finger and thumb and begins to gently pull the sapping out of the dirt, coughing as it grew into a normal-sized flower as others looked on at this.

Others looked at this with interest and yet fear as Cagney bloomed while his petals peeled away from his face, he is in his beginning form and this time he is much smaller than a big flower.

‘’This isn’t fair!’’ Cagney shouted ‘’I was going to win!’’

‘’I guess the odds aren’t in your favor when you’re trying to kill us.’’ Dempsey said.

‘’And yet now you really looked like a cute flower now!’’ Heavy bellowed out as others laughed.

‘’This must have been embarrassing dishonor for you, Cagney.’’ Takeo stated.

‘’Look who’s saying! I just wanted to be stronger to beat guys like you to a plump!’’

Takeo gave him a pitied look as he sheathed his katana away, kneeling down to Cagney’s level and asked ‘’Why would you want to be stronger? You’re only a flower.’’

Cagney looked up at Takeo with nervousness in his eyes and guilt deep down, then he looked in a different direction to avoid his gaze.

‘’W-well,’’ he began as his voice was shaking, ‘’You see… I wanted to d-defend myself from anyone who wanted to d-do me harm so I uh… I kinda made a deal with someone that is…’’

‘’That is what?’’ Nikolai asked.

‘’The Devil.’’

Others but Medic and Richtofen looked at the flower like he was crazy til Richtofen asked ‘’You sold your soul to the Devil?’’

‘’Pretty much and that’s how I was… Well, like that before being beaten by the two kids who had also lost their souls to the Devil and eventually had beaten him and freed everyone’s souls that had unfortunately sold their souls to him as well. If that’s not enough to justify everyone’s justice, they had managed to beat the Devil's good-for-nothing lacky, King Dice in his own game.’’

‘’King Dice? The one with a dice for a head?’’

‘’Yep, has he tricked you too?’’

Dempsey raised an eyebrow at this response.

‘’No,’’ Dempsey answered ‘’I have only just met him the day before, Why would he-’’

‘’He’s the Devil’s right hand man, he can manipulate people with only reason so they can make a deal with the Devil. I am now sure hopefully none of you got caught up in his charm or-’’

‘’Uh oh!’’ A familiar voice that Dempsey heard had caught everyone’s attention and turned over to King Dice who appeared out of nowhere, standing there with his arms behind his back and with the same grin on his face.

‘’Did I feel my ears burning?’’

Dempsey turned to anger as he said ‘’Why are you here?’’

‘’Just stopping by when I saw your friend defeat that flower, and heard a chit-chat about the two brothers who sold their souls. You really are full of surprises, are you Dempsey?’’

‘’You are talking about the two children who had made a deal with a demon?’’ Nikolai growled.

‘’Of course! There are a lot of stories spilling out today like there’s no tomorrow,’’ Dice said as he adjusted his glove on his hand. ‘’Bunch of questions are asked after they were told like one for example: How did we get here after we’ve been snatched and taken. Like how ol li’ Cuphead and Mugman!’’

‘’How should we not know if you and Devil was behind it all?’’ Takeo asked.

‘’Nope, none of us are behind the snatching and taking of anybody here. To be honest with you sinners who started swinging. I like that! Every one of you are sinners of your own deeds.’’

‘’Are you suggesting that we should surrender our souls to your boss?’’ Richtofen confronted him with a glare.

‘’Heh… Of course not! Not now that you guys know about me and the big cheese. But if you all are willing to make a deal, just call me by name alright? Right then! Hi-De-Ho!~’’ he said as he had once again toralls again and fell down the hole he came from and then it shrunks.

‘’I swear I will kill him…’’ Dempsey muttered under his breath as Richtofen walked up to his side, ‘’Good vill come to those who vait but now… Ve need to leave zhis place.’’

‘’Yeah yeah…’’

‘’Um, Cagney, if you don’t mind-’’

‘’Yes! I know! I will let you all pass! Just don’t worry about me alright?’’ Cagney bellowed out with anger.

Scout looked at Cagney with concern, ‘’Are you sure about that? Zombies, you being small flower, they will kinda-’’

‘’I’ll be fine, I’ll just be back to my big old self in no time before they could. Now get out of my sight.’’ Cagney said subborningly.

Vines that are blocked off the path begin to separate and moved upward til the pathway is cleared. Sniper looked down at Cagney and said ‘’Thanks mate.’’

‘’Don’t mention it, all of you proved to be tougher than I think but don’t think that I would end up meeting you guys again.’’ Cagney replied.

‘’We won’t, see ya mate.’’

With the footsteps passing by the Carnation and then passed by as he watched them go to the train station.

They walked the rest of the path to the train station until they finally got there, feeling accomplished by reaching their goal but they know that there could be zombies lurking in the station since they couldn’t waste anymore time than they already have to complete the search and rescue mission.

‘’Does anyone know how to drive a train?’’ Nikolai asked everyone, then the Engineer came up to him.

‘’I can drive that thing son, after all I am an engineer but what can I say? I have many talents.’’

Dempsey chuckled ‘’Well, I can’t argue with that one Dell.’’

Spy walks over to the cargo, ‘’If we are done? We better get going before the dead or this ‘’King Dice’’ fellow comes back.’’ he then opens the door and then ushers his teammates to get on. “After you, Bushman.”

‘’Right.’’

Everyone then hopped on the train in a single file, while Demoman used black paint that he found from the ticket booth to write the cargo the words ‘’The Pain Train.’’ he hears a train whistle pierced the air, he then hops abroad on the cargo as the train begins to move it’s wheels against the rails then goes forward as 3 to 8 zombies comes out of their places in attempts to catch up with the train but wasn’t fast enough to catch up as the train goes quickly out of the station.

Scout looks out of the cargo door and laughs at the undead’s failed attempt, ‘’See ya later zombies!’’

Richtofen sighs out a breath of relief as Takeo sat down on a crate while looking outside with the others. They see the old red western buildings and blue 60’s era buildings before the train leaves the fortress and away from it as they watch.

‘’That was close.’’ Sniper said as Dempsey nodded, ‘’Indeed, a little TOO close.’’ Richtofen added.

‘’Still through, I am so glad that we’re out of there and away from those abominations that are created by none other than Lucifer himself.’’ Spy said as he again took another drag, Medic jumped up to the comment with sweat formed on his forehead as he said ‘’Oh Ja! Of course glad!’’ The others looked at him like he was more crazy than usual.

‘’Although Doctor, you seemed jumpy when Cagney mentioned the Devil before King Dice appeared after he said that he is the Devil’s right hand man. Mind explaining that one?’’ Nikolai asked.

‘’Me? Scared of the Devil?’’ Medic excused, ‘’Nein, nein. I vas only surprised zhat zhe Devil might be real. If Cagney is his debtor zhen zhat means-’’

‘’There are more than just one that owes the Devil their soul.’’ Dempsey interjected as Medic said ‘’Hey!’’

‘’That must’ve explains why Laddie.’’ Demoman as he drinks his scrumpy as Nikolai turns away. ‘’What do you think where Pauling is?’’ Nikolai asked.

‘’She said that she’s in an abandoned town, she had said that it looked like that war had rampaged and ransack it for 80 years or so, not to mention that she said it’s far from the fortress we were in.’’ Spy answered everyone.

‘’Far from the fortress huh?’’ Scout said, ‘’Hopefully we won’t encounter zombies there when we get to the town.’’

‘’I will not get my hopes just yet Scout, Richtofen had said that they can always one step ahead of us.’’ Takeo said as he looked outside of the moving train to view the land, he noticed a few trees that he is so familiar with when he is growing up in Japan.

‘’If this is another world, do you think that there are others taken here as well?’’ Nikolai questioned, ‘’Perhaps, in studies of alternate timelines, there are different worlds as vell.’’

‘’Cool.’’ Scout said as he laid down the crate with his hands at the back of his head.

Everyone looked outside as the train kept moving on the railway tracks to the old town as the hours had passed until the sun began to set over the horizon.

Takeo begins to notice that something is happening with the blossom trees, everyone else soon takes notice of them when the sun disappears behind the hills to make way for night time to begin.

The cherry trees began to glow white as the wind began to blow, allowing the blossoms to fly free into the breeze while everyone looked at them with wonder and amazement. They looked like they were stars being blown away by the wind in outer space as they watched them danced in the dark star-sprinkled skies.

‘’Wow…’’

‘’They don’t normally do something like this…’’ Takeo muttered as he watched, Nikolai walked up to his side and said ‘’Well, in this world, it doesn’t matter…’’

-End of the Flashback…-

[inmyownlittlecorner5]

Moonlight Chapter Six: Werewolves in Cokeworth

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 6/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Five+

Chapter Seven+ >>

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N.B. No Lupins were hurt in the writing of this chapter :)

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Some nights Severus wanted nothing more than to burn down his house at Spinner’s End. He never did, of course, as he strongly suspected that doing so would cause the sort of problems with the Ministry of Magic that he’d rather avoid. He’d lived alone in this house since the summer he’d graduated from Hogwarts, yet it was still haunted by the memories of his wretched childhood. He could have sold the place, but once he’d started teaching it hadn’t seemed worth the bother. After all, he only had to spend the summer months here. He was very good at tolerating uncomfortable situations--especially if they were familiar ones. 

Tonight, he sat in his library attempting to focus on the book in front of him. He'd spent the last month trying to convince himself that it was best to keep his indiscretion with Miss Rose to a one time event. As enjoyable as her company was, there was simply too much risk involved to begin even a casual relationship at this time. This had been much easier to believe directly following their parting that morning with her insults fresh in his ears. However, as the days passed, he found that his thoughts dwelt more on how her hair shimmered in the moonlight and all the delightful little sounds she made when he touched her. He threw down his book and began pacing the room. The silence of the house felt oppressive and he decided to take a walk. It was near midnight but he felt far too agitated to sleep. The full moon shone brightly above him as he headed out into the night. He started up the narrow street with no particular destination in mind. The depressingly shabby rows of houses spread out in front of him and he was too busy trying to keep his mind from dwelling on that bothersome American witch to pay any attention to them. He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice the lights in the street being extinguished, one by one, as though by an unseen lamplighter. Frequently the streetlights in Cokeworth refused to shine due to disrepair, but they never went out in so neat a fashion. After the third light disappeared, he began to take note of the phenomena. He drew his wand and scanned the street for the source of the trouble. Suddenly a massive, snarling, wolf-thing exploded from an alley onto the street, wrestling with a much smaller human. Severus’s eyes widened as he recognized the silver hair, now done up in a tight bun. He would not have thought it possible that Miranda was mad enough to take on a werewolf alone, but here was the proof before him. He debated a moment as to whether he should intervene, but decided against it. He hated unsolicited help himself and he rather expected that she would not want help from him after their exchange at her cabin. He leaned against his house to watch in case she lost control of the beast. She had a chain looped around the beast's muzzle, which he was desperately trying to scratch off. She was pulling tightly on another chain wrapped around his neck and they tumbled over and over across the cobblestones. They were obviously grunting and growling, but the fray was oddly silent, like a muggle television on mute. The werewolf slashed Miranda cruelly from shoulder to hip and she kicked it with both legs which, augmented by a spell from her wand, hurled him away from her. Severus stepped forward, wand extended, but she rolled into a crouch, drew a pistol, and shot the beast three times in rapid succession. The werewolf staggered a few steps and fell to the ground. By the time he came to rest, Miranda was on top of him, securing him with further chains. When he was finally subdued, she got to her feet, staggered herself, and slumped to the ground beside her quarry, panting heavily. When she did not rise, Severus decided he had watched long enough and trotted across the street to her. "You!" she gasped. She tried to rise and fell again. "Stay put," he ordered, eyeing the werewolf. "Are you sure this thing is secured?" Her breathing was very labored. "Yes. Those are silver chains and he has at least seven silver bullets in him." "Good," Severus nodded. "I'll come back for you." She looked like she wanted to argue, but was in too much pain to do so, so she settled for rolling onto her back and glaring at him. He waved his wand and the werewolf floated eerily in the air behind him. He quickly took the beast to a concrete room in his basement, triple locked him in, and hurried back to Miranda. Severus found her where he had left her, lying in the street as still and pale as a corpse. He knelt over her and put a hand gently over her mouth, feeling for her breath. He held his own while he waited and, after what seemed like an eternity, her slow, shallow breathing tickled his fingers. He pulled his hand away and quickly flicked his wand over the alarmingly large puddle of blood on the street. As it flew into his wand, he told himself that surely most of it had to have come from the werewolf. When the incriminating mess was cleared away, he pocketed his wand and gently lifted her in his arms. He wouldn’t be able to tell the extent of her injuries until he had her in better lighting, but he knew that the werewolf’s Curse would render it impossible to cure them by any sort of charm. He would have to clean and bind them by hand. It took him less than ten minutes to lay her on the bed in his spartan bedroom and gather his supplies. He had always liked to be prepared for trouble—especially since the return of the Dark Lord. Her clothing was in shreds and did not seem worth saving, so he flicked it away with a wave of his wand. He blanched briefly at the state of the flesh underneath, recalling both the pleasure he had taken in it, and his parting wish to her that she be killed by her next mark. A mixture of guilt and panic starting rising in his chest, but he forced it away. Emotion would not be of any use at present; only action. Her eyes fluttered open as he worked. "Damn Strengthening Solution," she whispered hoarsely. "Always starts wearing off at the most inopportune times." "Perhaps you need review the basics of brewing it," he snapped back. "You are such a bastard," she retorted, stifling a moan as he began cleaning her injuries and dressing them with Wound Reducer. "And you are a madwoman, taking on a beast like that alone," he hissed. “Now, silence, so I can work!” Her eyes rolled up in her head and Severus felt his panic threatening to return. He forced himself to focus on his task, first cleaning, then binding the wounds. When he was finished, he risked leaving her long enough to procure a draught of Blood-Replenishing Potion from his stores. When he returned to the bedroom, her breathing was alarmingly slow. Without hesitation he waved his wand. "Imperio," he commanded. She sat up and drank the potion without opening her eyes, then lay back down on the bed, deathly still. He sat staring at her for a long time, willing her to breathe. As the sun rose, her breathing became more regular and her color started to return, although she did not awaken. Satisfied, he went to start a new batch of Blood-Replenishing Potion and Wound Reducer. The Curse would render the potions less effective than they would normally be and each took several days to mature. Severus feared he would use his entire store before Miranda was fully healed. *******

Three days later, Miranda was still unconscious. Severus was beginning to wonder if he should move her to St. Mungo’s, but he wasn’t sure what else they would do beyond what he was already doing. He had continued changing her bandages and using the Imperio Curse to force her to imbibe his potions, water, and broth. He felt strangely possessive of his patient and the thought of depositing her at St. Mungo’s and walking away was unappealing to him. Perhaps some superstitious part of him felt responsible for her current situation, although he knew this was ridiculous. He hadn’t been the one to attempt to bring down a frenzying werewolf alone. He was dozing in a chair next to the bed on the evening of the third day when her eyes finally opened. "Professor..." she whispered, her voice thin and shaky.

Severus’s eyes snapped open and he hid his relief with a frown. “It is high time you awoke,” he said dryly. “I was about to go through your things for valuables.”

She smiled weakly. "I suppose I owe you more Snakewood after this." His face softened a bit and he laid a finger over her lips. "Save your strength. We'll discuss payment later." He tilted her head up and gently poured more potions and broth down her throat. When he finished, her eyes stayed closed so long that he thought she had fallen asleep again. He decided to risk sleeping on the sofa instead of the chair for a few hours, so he quietly rose and started to leave the room when he heard her say again, "Professor..." He stopped and said curtly, "Could you please stop calling me that? You sound like one of my students, and it's unnerving." She opened one eye and her lip curled into a weak smile. “Are you saying you’d like to go back to using our Christian names? “Considering the amount and variety of your bodily fluids I’ve come into contact with during the course of our association, it seems stilted to use anything else.” She snorted and said quietly, “Thank you, Severus.” "You're welcome, Miranda." Her smile widened and she drifted off to sleep. He left the door open and sleep eluded him as he lay on his sofa, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what he had gotten himself into. ****** The werewolf perished during the three day vigil Severus spent by Miranda’s side. He initially wanted to incinerate the remains, but thought that she might require a body to claim her fee. As he did not feel like skinning the beast, he settled for using the Glacius spell to prevent decay. On the fifth day of her stay at Spinner’s End, he was sitting at his desk in the library, methodically planning out the coming term’s lessons when he heard her shuffle out of the bedroom. She was holding onto the wall for support and had a look of grim determination on her face. “What are you doing?” he demanded, frowning fiercely at her. “Go back to bed.” “I’m looking for your bathroom. Or whatever you Brits call it,” she snapped back. “I think we’d both be happier if I use it from now on. And I can’t just lie there all day, I’ll go insane.” He couldn’t argue with her point about the loo, so he set down his quill and grudgingly escorted her to it. She was able to walk most of the way unaided, and she used the wall, rather than him, for whatever support she required. He stayed at her shoulder, though, until she was safely back in bed. The most massive wound she had sustained was barely closed and he did not care to have it reopened if she fell. An hour later, he was still at his desk when he heard her shuffling step heading towards the kitchen. He set down his quill again and stalked silently towards the noise. She had just pushed open the door when he reached her. “Is it your habit to go spying in other people’s houses?” he asked dryly. She gave him an exasperated look. “I didn’t see the need to bother you for a glass of water.” “Go back to bed,” he ordered, “and I will bring it to you. In case you have forgotten, you were almost cut in half by a werewolf a few days ago. I would rather you did not render my work useless by walking around before your wound is sufficiently healed.”

Her eyes flashed, but she went back to bed. He brought her a glass of water and then returned to his desk, satisfied that he had won his point. She was quiet for the rest of the morning and even fell asleep after lunch, so he took the liberty to spend the afternoon in the potions room in his basement. It was a bare, dark place, but contained all the necessary equipment and ingredients for his current projects. It also had the benefit of being much cooler than the rest of the house. He had been known to sleep there on the concrete floor during the worst part of the summer heat. His back tended to complain the day after he did this however, and so he kept the practice to a minimum. The anti-venom was coming along nicely, although he still was not convinced that he had the proper ratio of unicorn horn to mugwort. He had just started to crush the unicorn horn, when he heard that shuffling footstep in the library above him. He closed his eyes and sighed irritably. Very well. It was time for drastic measures. He put away his potion work and headed up the stairs, being sure to make enough noise that Miranda would notice him coming. He smirked to himself when he heard the sound of her hurrying back to the bedroom as quickly as her injured state would allow. He gave her time to sneak back into his bed before going to the kitchen to brew tea. When the tea was ready, he brought it, along with toast and a chess board into his bedroom. Without asking if she cared for any, he poured her a cup and set it on the night stand, along with a plate of toast and jam. He flicked his wand at the chess board, and it floated obediently next to the bed. With another wand flick, the pieces began clambering noisily over the board, each looking for its proper place. While they were arranging themselves, he poured himself a cup of tea, and sat down in the chair that he had been spending so much time in of late. “I’m sure you have work to do,” she said irritably. “You don’t have to entertain me.” “This is to keep you from getting out of bed and ripping open your wound by falling,” he replied. “I assure you it is not for my own pleasure.” They played fiercely, but in silence, and the sound of the chess pieces echoed through the room. By the end of the game, both Miranda and Severus were suppressing smiles of pleasure as they battled each other to a stalemate. She wanted to play again, but he dosed her with more potions and insisted that she rest. When she started to argue, he picked up her book from the bedside table and began to read aloud. “Alone

From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were—I have not seen As others saw—I could not bring My passions from a common spring— From the same source I have not taken My sorrow—I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone— And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone. Then—in my childhood—in the dawn Of a most stormy life—was drawn From ev’ry depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still— From the torrent, or the fountain— From the red cliff of the mountain— From the sun that round me roll’d  In its autumn tint of gold—- From the lightning of the sky As it pass’d me flying by— From the thunder, and the storm— And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view.”

He raised an eyebrow, turned the page, and read on, “To Helen

Helen thy beauty is to me, Like those Nicéan barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore.

On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome.

Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The agate-lamp within thy hand! Ah, Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy-Land!”

He closed the book to take a better look at the cover, and enquired, “Who is Edgar Allan Poe?”

Miranda had lain back on the bed, enjoying his reading. “He was an American No-Maj author. Nineteenth century. More famous for his horror stories than his poetry,” she explained. “He’s been accused of being a ‘jingle man’ in his poetry, but the French are wild for it. I’ve always found it to be quite moving and expressive.”

“I prefer Coleridge and Blake personally,” he said. “This Poe does have a fine sense of rhythm, though.” 

“You should try his short stories. Excellent at capturing a mood.” She leaned up on one hand so that she could better meet his eyes. “You read very well. We always had reading and music in the evenings at home.” “I thought muggles all watched television in the evenings.” “Maybe the normal ones do, but my parents had other ideas. We also had to learn to ride a horse and skin and dress an animal. Without magic.” “How perfectly barbaric.” She laughed, “No more so than some of the things you have to do to prepare ingredients for potions.” He allowed himself a smirk. “I suppose that is true.” She was wearing one of his nightshirts and her hair was spread over her shoulders and his pillow. The late afternoon sun was slanting in through the window, haloing her in its orange glow. She looked so enticing that he impulsively leaned forward to trace her cheek with his finger. She closed her eyes and turned her head towards his touch, but for some reason this made him feel awkward, rather than encouraged. He removed his hand, cleared his throat, and ordered, “Lie down and I will keep reading.” She did as he commanded and he opened the book again to continue. He read until she fell asleep and he sat for a long time afterwards, watching her dream. ****** Their days settled into a comfortable rhythm as she recovered. Severus would bring her breakfast and a stack of books in the morning, and she would obediently read until lunch while he worked. After lunch, they played a game of chess, and then she consented to sleep for at least an hour. The rest of the afternoon was spent playing cards—he had been unaware that there were quite so many Muggle card games, but he quickly learned the rules to several of them—and debating about what she had read in the morning hours. Following dinner he would read to her until she fell asleep, and if he spent far too much time watching her dream, he certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone about it. A week after the attack, her wounds were well on their way to healing, and her step was firm as she wandered his house. One day she made her way into his basement and, as he was in the middle of adding mugwort and mistletoe to the cauldron, he ordered her to take dictation while he worked rather than bother chasing her back upstairs. This may have been a mistake on his part, as she then felt bold enough to insist that they go for a walk after dinner when the heat of the day had passed. He argued vehemently against this, and she laughed at all of his reasons. Finally he stipulated that she sleep for three hours following lunch, which she did, and they emerged from his house with her holding his arm for support as the sun was setting that evening. They walked slowly up the street, and he received more than one curious glance from his neighbors. He knew they would ignore him, though, and keep their gossip among themselves. That night Severus and Miranda only went to the end of the block before he insisted that they return to his house, but after that first concession, it was impossible to deny her a walk on any subsequent evening. He hoped it would rain at least once to prevent the foolishness, but the weather was stubbornly fine and even a bit cooler than it had been all summer. They walked a little further every evening, and by the end of that week they went as far as the river that ran through Cokeworth. It was a sad, dirty river, much like the rest of the sad, dirty town, but Miranda seemed drawn to it and they followed it upstream. Eventually, she managed to find a place where the water flowed in such a way as to clear the sludge out of sight. They went down to the bank and she started searching for smooth stones among the bits of rubbish and broken glass. When she had a handful, she started throwing them across the water, skipping them lightly with a practiced flick of her wrist. “There’s a river on the farm at home,” she said as she skipped the rocks. “You still live with your parents?” he asked, watching her lithe body move.

“I do. So does my brother Finnian. Patrick and Seamus live within a mile too, with their families.”

“That sounds oppressive.” She shrugged. “Nah. We get along well most of the time, and there’s a lot to do to take care of the horses.” “I thought you were bounty hunters.” “We are. But you can’t hunt marks all the time—that’s no way to live.” She skipped a rock into the center of the river and went on, “I used to spend most of my time by the river, skipping rocks, making boats out of tree bark and flowers. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t ask for a better family, but I’ve always been restless. Being by the river made me feel like someday I could go wherever I wanted to. Just the way it rushed over the rocks and the sound that it made. I’ve never liked being in one place for too long. Wanderlust, you know.” “I expect that your brothers were jealous that you could perform magic when they could not.” “Only if I used it when we played baseball, and our parents instituted a house rule that no magic was allowed during baseball. They said it was unsportsmanlike.” She grinned at him and added, “But I can strike out my brothers without magic anyway.” As though to prove her point, she skipped her last stone all the way to the other side of the river. “I suppose you expect me to be impressed by that,” he teased. “No. It probably takes a lot more than that to impress you.” She gave the river a final look and then took his arm for support. “We should go back before I overdo it and you have to carry me.” ***** The next morning, Severus awoke to the smell and sound of sausage cooking. He was tempted to go into the kitchen and see what Miranda would do if he were to greet her the way he had that other morning in her cabin, but he was far to wary of her to do something so foolish. They had never spoken of the insults they had exchanged that day, but he doubted that either had forgotten them. Not to mention the fact that the Dark Lord still hovered in the background, poisoning everything connected to him. Severus knew that it would be best if Miranda walked out of his life today, never to walk back into it and he was displeased by that knowledge in a way that he did not care to admit. He was more stoic than usual during breakfast, and Miranda seemed content to read the day’s Prophet and leave him to himself. After the meal, she gathered her bag and he went to collect what was left of the werewolf. He had cast a Reducio charm and it now fit into a matchbox. When she was ready, he handed her the box and she stowed it in her bag. "Well," she said, "I'm sure you'll be glad to have me out of your hair. I know you don't like complications."

He snorted to hide his disappointment. "You certainly are a troublesome houseguest," he replied. She started for the door, but as she reached it, she turned back to him, her face softer and more open than he usually saw it. ”Listen, Severus, thank you,” she said earnestly. “I know you saved my life. It's going to take me a week or so to tie up this case, but I'd like to see you after that if you wouldn't mind." Severus found he very much didn't mind, but he wasn't sure he wanted her to know that. "I will be returning to Hogwarts in a few days,” he said, nonchalantly. “Term begins in a week." "Of course," she replied. She studied him and seemed to be debating something. After a moment, she walked back to him and took his face in her hands. Slowly, giving him plenty of time to pull away, she brought his lips down to hers. It was a sweet kiss, and he did not resist—but he did not embrace her either. "Thanks just the same," she murmured after she had released him. Then she turned and headed out the door. She was about to close the door after her when he heard himself saying, "I simply wanted you to know where to find me." He saw her pause on her way out and, while she did not turn back to him, he could picture the smile playing on her lips. Severus, you're a fool, he thought harshly, but he couldn't really bring himself to care.

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

Both poems by Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)

I think Severus knows exactly what Poe is talking about in Alone and I think To Helen might be the best poem that Poe wrote. The two poems actually are on subsequent pages in my copy of this book :-).

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

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Five+

Chapter Seven+ >>

[js-mindscape]

A long post sort of analyzing Damien

If you haven’t watched “Damien” yet, please watch it before reading this. This is also gonna be me gushing a little bit here and there, also a few questions I still have about some things, so please bear with me. I love this video and am so happy it’s finally here! Also this is my first time doing something like this so don’t judge it too harshly! Anyway, let us continue.

So right here we establish the setting and everything. Damien and Celine are in a cabin in the middle of the woods. Why? How did they get there? We’ll get to that in a second. Damien also finds a pink flower, which I have a lot of theories for. Damien is also getting firewood, we love a strong boy. Whatever. Let’s move on.

“Don’t slam the door.” “If I want to slam the damn door, I’ll slam it.” Sibling banter, but also established tension. They’re in a stressful situation. For Damien, they’re in the middle of the woods in winter. It’s a matter of survival. For Celine, it’s that but also something different which, again, we’ll get to later. kEeP tHaT iN yOuR mInD.

“I saw a flower today, shouldn’t be long now until spring.” “Or there’s still more weeks of winter left and that flower will die, cold and alone.” “...Or that.” This is very much a reference to the fact that Mark left them to die. We love pent up emotions. Another reason for the tension is possibly the conflict between their personalities. They’re very much opposites. Damien is more so an optimist while Celine is more so a pessimist. Neither are bad, but that’s the fact of the matter. Not to mention Damien is very much “I need to be a leader, let me help you” and Celine is very “I know what I’m doing so I’m the leader”. Conflict of who should lead is clear when Celine, I think, jokingly brings up the “I’m older” card later on. I’m getting ahead of myself, let’s move on.

Damien is trying really hard to keep the air light. Celine doesn’t care and just wants to get done what she needs to get done.

“Did you really see a flower?” Then she looks back. I think she realizes something is off. This has thrown off the whole loop. There wasn’t a flower before, I think. Now there is. Something is up. The fact the flower is pink made me think of William initially. I thought maybe Will would have a part in this somehow but he doesn’t really. So my other thought, after watching it through, was it showed how Actor!Mark was there now, breaking the loop. That’s just what I think though.

“Get some sleep, you look tired.” First of all, I love this screenshot. It’s oddly soothing and it’s just so pretty. Celine looks gorgeous and the light is just perfect. ANYWAY, I find this quote ironically hilarious. Mark has stated the “you look tired” statement is irritating because it’s an indirect insult in a way. So I find it interesting he uses it in his writing, but it doesn’t feel insulting here. It feels like she is simply concerned for her brother and cares about him. Which is more than clear by the end of the video.

“I’m not that tired...” He yawns. “Oookay, maybe I am tired.” MOOD. Anyway.

I cannot screenshot this to save my life BUT it does glitch here. I believe this is supposed to show that the loop starts over again. Every time Damien goes to sleep, it starts over, continuing the facade that Celine has made.

“Well you don’t die easily, do you?” Then, of course, the next part is...

“Well, why’d the music stop?!” That’s William’s voice. There is no way in HELL that’s a coincidence. William DOESN’T die easily. Neither does our intrepid detective and guess who’s voice is next? You guessed it, Abe. “YOU KILLED people!” Something else of note is that Damien doesn’t seem to recognize these voices. Abe, I would sort of understand, but William? His best friend? That doesn’t make sense to me. Another thing to note is that these are lines from Wilford Motherloving Warfstache. Does this take place at the same time? I don’t think so due to the order of the lines. You go from Wilford at the disco and then him in the detective’s office. That’s a lot of dialogue skipped over. My guess this takes place after WMW if this takes place near it at all.

Then he brushes it off and continues what he’s doing. But this definitely affected the “loop”. That’s different. Then we get the confirmation of the loop.

Damien knows something’s up now. Celine knows Damien is suspicious of it. He changed his own loop after all. He mentioned a flower, his reply to “don’t slam the door” was different.

He mentions he heard a voice, which Celine tries to brush off, but he can’t get past it. He wanted to follow it, but... “And I had to get back with firewood but... we already have plenty of firewood...” Things are starting to REALLY come together for Damien. Why does he have to get firewood every single day if they have plenty?

Celine tries to brush off what he’s saying AGAIN. She tells him she would’ve run into anyone else who would’ve been there by now. They’ve been there for a long time, but that was obvious by now. He also repeats her reassurance which I find interesting. Damien seems to be a very logical person, very emotional, but can still separate the two most of the time. He also seems very intelligent and this all DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. How can a flower still be alive during a snowstorm? How has Celine or him not find the people who have these voices? Things aren’t adding up.

“You’re not getting enough sleep, you NEED to sleep. Are you staying up while I’m out?” “What? No! I’m fine! I’m not even tired. What about you? Are you tired? You’re always awake by the time I get back.” This reveals this really is the only way the loop restarts. Celine needs this loop to restart or things won’t go as planned. She needs to protect her “little brother”. But now he’s throwing the question back at her, but she changes the subject back over to him again. She’s the eldest sibling,- by ten minutes- she knows what’s best. There’s obviously that conflict there with authority. Celine knows exactly what’s going on, but Damien doesn’t. She comes up with bullshit excuses because she doesn’t know what else to convince him to restart the loop. She needs to protect her little brother.

“Just be careful!” Celine! Stop stressing out your brother! Ahem... Anyway. That sounds familiar and maybe that sounds familiar to her too. That’s what he said right before Celine took the DA to that room. By that expression, I think she's thinking about that and what to do next. She doesn’t know what to do, she’s lost.

“I can take care of myself.” “DON’T slam the... door. You always need to be right. Sometimes I’M right. Sometimes I know things... Whatever...”

He’s tired of this conflict. He loves his sister but he’s frustrated she won’t listen to him for seemingly no reason.

This happened before but Damien was asleep before he could notice it. This is when everything is supposed to loop, but he doesn’t go to sleep. Now, something is calling him.

Now there’s a mirror there. It wasn’t there before and it doesn’t show a reflection. It shows a corpse instead. He shuts his eyes, but when he opens them...

He’s back outside. The loop has restarted, but now he was awake to see it. This doesn’t make sense, none of this makes any damn sense. He was just at home and now he’s outside with his ax. Then Celine’s voice snaps him out of it. Something I noticed about the voice is that it doesn’t sound like Celine completely. It sounds like there’s an underlying male voice. To me, it sounds like Mark, which would make sense. This isn’t Celine after all. After he chases the voice, thinking his sister is in trouble, he comes across an icy lake that he’s never seen before.

He thinks she’s fallen in. So he rushes in to save her. Real quick, I just want to point out the voice acting here. Pam and Mark’s voices during the shouts were AMAZING. Specifically, the third “Damien!” and “Celine...! CELINE! Hold on!” gave me chills. Good job, guys! Seriously! Anyway, enough gushing, back to analyzing and theorizing. When he grabs, what he thinks is, Celine, it turns into that corpse again.

“It’s not fair, is it?” Now, where have we heard THAT ONE before? Our good ole pal, Actor!Mark.

Speaking of the devil, oh hi, Mark! So during the fall, we hear a couple of relevant things to note. “Mark is not the only one who can use this place to his benefit.” Said by Celine. That’s relevant because I believe this “limbo” is part of the upside down. Dark’s world. Celine used this place to keep Damien safe basically. She made it a veil to cover Damien’s eyes to the truth. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you are crazy.” Said by William. I believe this is in reference to the fact that Damien said “Maybe I am crazy” when he was talking with Celine about the voices. He’s not crazy by any means, he heard those voices because, I think at least, because Actor!Mark was on his way. Anyway, let’s get into my personal favorite part of this video, Damien and Actor!Mark’s talk.

AHHH SO PRETTY! Anyway. An old TV  turning on sound comes on, I’m assuming that’s homage to that cryptic video Mark put out months ago. Then we see him. So Actor!Mark has been looking for Damien for a long time as well as avoiding Celine. “Damien, you are a hard man to find.” “Now, that is a hard woman to avoid.”

Damien threatens him, but Actor!Mark assures him that she’s perfectly fine and he doesn’t think he couldn’t even get near her if he wanted to. Damien doesn’t recognize him at all. Celine has somehow made him forget everything about WKM in an effort to protect him. Actor!Mark implies this by saying “she must have done a number on you”. Then he says that Damien, of course, knows him, more than anyone. This is in reference to the fact that Actor!Mark stole Damien’s body. Asshole. Then things suddenly click. “Mark?”

He’s remembering everything now. Actor!Mark’s betrayal, whatever Celine did, and even before WKM.

I really feel for Damien here. He wants answers, we want answers. So Actor!Mark tries to summarize it. He simply says things went wrong and it wasn’t necessarily how it was supposed to go. However, this is where I get personally very confused.

“I may have made a deal to possibly make sure a certain lady wouldn’t go breaking anybody else’s heart ever again.” Wait... Back up, hold up wait a minute Mr. POST MAN. If I recall correctly, in the explanation video of WKM, Mark said that Celine wasn’t to blame in Actor!Mark’s mind. Which makes sense because if he wanted revenge on Celine, he would’ve invited her. So why the sudden change of heart? Did something happen? Did he just figure it takes two to tango? I honestly have no idea. Pretty much everything makes sense except THIS. Anyway, let’s move on.

Aaand there it is. “This place is a dream!” This place is a dream that Damien can’t wake up from because Celine is stopping him from doing so. This is also where Actor!Mark states his extremely faulty logic. This place is for him to write his own story. He’s the hero and Damien is the villain. Because of his “tragic backstory” and “humble upbringing”... Bitch, WHERE?! But okay.

Something to note is that Damien mentions that maybe ActorMark! should go tell his “story” to the other prisoners. I personally don’t really know what he means, so be my guest.

So then Damien fully realizes that Actor!Mark has lost it. Then they have an argument.

“...Acting like you’re the only one without blood on your hands” is referring to the fact that Damien hasn’t hurt anyone but he isn’t the only one. He’s implying that Damien acts so innocent even though he’s not the only innocent one. “You stole EVERYTHING from me!” “Well, you wouldn’t HAVE anything in the first place if it wasn’t for ME!” This part is very interesting to me because they’re referring to two completely things. Damien is referring to his life, his friends, his family, etc. while Actor!Mark is referring to Damien’s status as mayor. Good writing, Mark! Also, amazing voice acting once again!

“You took our LIVES, you betrayed me! You betrayed WILLIAM! You even betrayed CELINE!” I think it’s interesting he calls Colonel “William” here. He didn’t do that in WKM and friends of his can call William “Colonel”. Idk, I just find it interesting. “Well maybe if Celine hadn’t run off, we wouldn’t BE HERE right now!” Again, why this change of heart? I am confusion. “You were NEVER good enough for Celine!”

“I gave up EVERYTHING FOR HER!” Oof, okay. I got a few ideas for this one, he’s referring to WKM in how he did what did in WKM because of her, maybe he’s referring to a thing he did during their marriage, or even before then. Either way, it’s kinda difficult to really tell.

So after all that, Damien tells him he doesn’t want Actor!Mark’s future. “Drop dead somewhere and let me live my life.” Pretty harsh, but, at this point, I don’t necessarily blame him. Try being betrayed by your best friend of several years and being stuck in limbo for a long time. Actor!Mark informs him that life isn’t the same here. There is no real end for them.

So I’m mega confused on what’s really happening here. I’m guessing that Actor!Mark is trying to take control of Damien but he says he's not doing anything so I could be very wrong. Hopefully, it will become clear later. Anyway, let’s got to the part when Celine yeets an ax into Actor!Mark’s chest.

THANKS, CELINE! LOVE YA! We also know he isn’t dead. I don’t think he can ever really die.

“I... I have no idea what just happened.” “Are you alright?” “NO, I’m not ALRIGHT! I’ve never been LESS alright! You need to EXPLAIN to me whAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!” “There’s not time to explain!” “Why does everybody keep telling me that?!” Same, fucking, same. Anyway...

“Celine... Am I... Am I dea-” “NO!” This part fucking shatters my heart. The fact is, they’re not dead, not technically. What happened was a complete accident or the house playing damage control, whichever way you interpret it. They’re stuck in this world where they’re in a constant loop and Celine was helping that. She didn’t want to accept the inevitable. She didn’t want to lose her brother and she definitely didn’t want to die either. She built this whole thing just to watch it come crumbling down all because of Mark once again.

“Everything I’ve done... I’ve done to protect you.” She loves her brother. She would do anything for him and she has tried to do that, but she can’t anymore. She denies that. She can still do it in her mind until...

“LET ME HELP YOU!” Damien knows his sister too well. He knows when she has overworked herself and she wants to help her, but first, she has to let him.

“I remember now... I remember what he did... What we did...” I believe the “what he did” is referencing how they manipulated the DA and pushed the DA out of their body. That’s just a theory though.

This is when Celine realizes that maybe Damien is right. He may not know everything, but he knows her. “Some things just can’t be fixed...” She can’t do this forever, there’s gonna be a point where she breaks or some other force stops her.

“But if you let me help you, then maybe, together, we can start to set things right.”

“You look tired. I think you need to get some sleep.” “I can’t remember the last time I slept.” “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” You can rest now, Celine.

“You can’t come back from this. It’ll CHANGE you. Forever.” “Well, he did say he wanted me to be the villain. Maybe he should be careful with his wishes.” This is when I think Dark is truly formed. This is when Dark’s goal is set, which is:

“Make sure that bastard stays dead.”

Then, like that, they’re gone. The man that Damien was, the woman that Celine was... gone in an instant. Just like those trees and that cabin.

However...

Darkiplier has arrived.

So yeah, that was my current thoughts, brief analysis, and mini-theories I have currently. I hope it made sense and didn’t sound too terribly crazy! Thank you for reading!

[courtofsapphiresandshadows]

Chapter Eleven- Azriel

She had finally fallen asleep- Azriel was beginning to wonder when she would finally doze off. Aegan had a long day- first going to the Prison, then flying for hours to the outskirts of Ironcrest, and finally collecting that large mound of firewood. They really didn’t need that much wood, but he had to keep her occupied with something. And the manual labor seemed to do the trick.

He turned back to the report in his hands. Pulling out a chunk of charcoal, he jotted down a few more notes before folding it up, slipping it into a small journal filled with others just like it. Rhysand had been making him send in more and more reports, none of which bore good news. Tensions had only began increased between the high lord and the war camp, and it was only a matter of time before Ironcrest decides that it was time to revolt. 

Aegan’s eyebrows furrowed, muttering something in her sleep before falling silent once more. Her shirt had hitched up, black swirls of ink stark against her tan back- they were the only real proof of her ever being a warrior, one of the last remnants of what she had been. That, and the Illyrian armor that was folded neatly next to her head. There were no nicks or scratches in the smooth black leather, not a hint of use to be seen. ‘She never had the chance to see war’, he noted, before looking away. 

He wondered what it would’ve been like, fighting alongside a female as powerful as her. Would it even be safe to be close to her? His shadows kept warning him to run whenever she drew near. And after her episode in the House of Wind… Perhaps it was best to keep his distance for now, until he decided on what to do with her. He hadn’t planned on having company during his trips to the Illyrian Mountains- at least, not until Rhysand told him that he would have a partner. 

Azriel poked the fire with a long stick, sparks flying as the embers warmed him. Tomorrow, they would go to the cabin he had been inhabiting for the last few weeks. Yes, it was rather small, but at least it was out of the cold. Illyrian winters were no fun, and it was a surprise that no snow had fallen yet. ‘It was only a matter of time’, he thought as a cold gust of air blasted him in the face. Maybe collecting all of that firewood hadn’t been such a bad idea. 

One of Aegan’s shadows drifted past him, settling briefly in his palm. It was cold, not unlike his, and had a mind of its own. It seemed perfectly content to drift peacefully around his scarred hands, before darting quickly back to its master’s side. 

Aegan thrashed suddenly in her sleep, each breath haggard and shallow. At Velaris, Azriel remembered hearing someone whimpering late at night- he didn’t put too much thought into it at first. But now, as he watched tears stream down her face, Azriel couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He could’ve at least checked to she if she was okay.

He leaned towards her, gently shaking her shoulder. “Aegan.”

She remained unresponsive, her shadows flaring around her, as if they were trying to do the same thing he was doing. He shook her harder, furrowing his brows as nothing seemed to change. 

His shadows screamed at him to move, Azriel not understanding why before hearing the low growl rumbling in Aegan’s throat. He only had a second to dart away as the claws came out, going straight through her leather gloves. 

Her eyes, blazing and very much awake, darted around the campsite before finally landing on him. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, Aegan fixated her eyes on the frozen earth, where her claws had created deep scratches. “I’m fine”, she whispered, her voice hoarse.

“Aegan-”

Her shadows swarmed closer to her, obscuring most of her from view. “I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not”, he told her. “You’re telling everyone that, but no one believes you. Why do you push away help?” 

A few shadows dispersed, revealing an emotionless face. It was odd seeing her like this- everytime Azriel had seen her, she had worn her heart on her sleeve. Now, she looked blank, like someone had sucked the personality out of her and left a corpse. “Goodnight Azriel.” 

He opened his mouth to demand that she give him a proper answer, but she was already on her side, facing away from the shadowsinger. 

Azriel casted her a sideways glance. Her breathing had evened out, her body relaxed, but he knew damn well that she was awake. Be careful with her, one of his shadows whispered to him, causing him to scoff slightly. She’s been broken one too many times.

The rest of the night had been quiet, save for the crackling fire in front of him. He had closed his eyes at one point, and opened them to find himself strewn across the ground, the spot where Aegan had been sleeping barren. 

“About time you woke up”, a gruff voice said from above him. “I was considering splashing you with cold water to wake you..”

Aegan was nudging the ash pile that had been a blazing fire the night before. She had changed out of her civilian clothes, donning her Illyrian leathers. Now she truly looked like an Illyrian warrior- the small scowl on her face really complemented the look. 

“Well, thank you for not doing that”, Azriel told her, grunting slightly as he rose to his feet. His back ached terribly- the ground was not a plush mattress after all. “How long have you been awake?” 

“A few hours.” She offered him a hand, and helped him onto his feet easily. “Nothing happened, if that’s what you’re wondering.” 

From where they had camped, Azriel could hear the war camp begin to awake. “We should probably seek some cover”, he suggested, eyes scanning the skies before falling back on the female in front of him. 

“Agreed”, she said, her voice monotone. Aegan’s face was still as blank as before, as she slung her sack over her shoulder. “Did you have a place in mind?”

He merely gestured his head, before walking away, Aegan stalking at his heels. Both of them were silent throughout their trip to the small wooden cabin he had been camping in, save for the occasional twig snapping underfoot. What were they supposed to talk about anyways? The weather? 

Besides the two Ironcrest soldiers they saw soaring overhead, they remained relatively undisturbed. Aegan told him that in the morning, patrols were rare- it was relatively new to see them flying so early. While it wasn’t enough to prove anything, Azriel still stored the information in his mind. Just something to look out for while spying. 

They finally reached the cabin. Nestled next to a hill, it had been built years ago, when Ironcrest wasn’t such a bother. Azriel had bought it a year ago, and after some ‘renovations’, it had become a hideout worthy for the Spymaster. It looked normal enough, but those who knew the building like he did knew better. Weapons of every variety laid hidden in the walls, the pantry stocked with poison, and the basement was filled with all sorts of surprises. 

Pulling out a small silver key, he unlocked and opened the door, loosening a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. He tossed his bag on a chair, before yanking open a drawer filled with scrolls and nubs of charcoal. “Catch”, he told her simply as he tossed her a scroll and charcoal nub. “We start immediately”. 

Aegan arched an eyebrow. “Eager for information, are we?” She inquired, tucking what he gave her in a small pocket on her thigh. “What do I do if I’m seen?” 

“Try to avoid that at all costs”, he said, readjusting his leathers slightly. “But if you are, silence them. And take care of any witnesses.” 

Something unreadable flashed in her eyes, before she dipped her head in understanding. “I’ll go North, and observe from there. Don’t put it past Ironcrest to do ground patrols.” 

“Who said you’re in charge?” He asked, but Aegan had already stepped outside, and launched herself into the sky. She was no more than a small black dot by the time Azriel himself had left the cabin, deciding to head to the southern ridge to make his observations. 

He did not see or hear Aegan for the rest of the day- a good thing, considering that their main objective was not to be detected. It was only late at night when he finally spotted the female on the roof of the cabin. She was near invisible in the dark, save for her platinum blonde hair, which seemed to glow in the moonlight. 

She jumped off, flaring her wings, as she landed before Azriel. Wordlessly, she pulled out a stack of papers, each one covered with notes and diagrams. 

“Nicely done”, he told her, flipping through the pages. Together, they must’ve had at least 40 pages of intel- better than what Azriel would have if he worked alone. ‘She made quite a spy’, he thought to himself as the two ventured inside. ‘Perhaps having her here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.’

It didn’t take long for them to discuss the notes- 15 minutes at best. Aegan remained quiet for the most part, only butting in to add more information or to clarify something he had said. After they were finished, Azriel went over to the small kitchen, offering food, but she declined. “I already ate”, she told him, before bidding him goodnight, walking towards her room. 

The following days were much like this one- Aegan and Azriel splitting up in the day, and reconvening at night. She was almost always gone before he even woke up- it was almost like Azriel was by himself in the mountains, just like the times before. Of course, the two spoke at night, to swap information, but even that didn’t last long.

There were times when he did see Aegan when they weren’t spying. Usually, it was late at night, when Azriel worked on finishing the report for the day. He could see into her room at the end of the hallway- she was always sitting on her bed, staring at the wall across from her. Dark bags had become a permanent feature under her eyes, her fingers always wrapped around the neck of a bottle. Once, he had tried to talk her out of drinking, but she merely took another swig of liquor. He had given up after that. 

Azriel removed his eyes from Aegan, and scratched one last note down before blowing out the candle on his desk. Today had been the same as usual- the reports worsening, Aegan drinking, and him stressing over the fact that he would have to leave the female by herself as he delivered the weekly report to Rhys. For all he knew, she could drain his entire alcohol stash, and slaughter any Ironcrest soldier she laid her eyes on. ‘It’s just for the weekend’, he assured himself, watching Aegan shut her door quietly. ‘She can’t do to much damage, right?’

Sleep had come instantly to him, and before he knew it, it was morning. The sun had began its ascent into the sky, its rays momentarily blinding him as he pushed aside the curtains. It had snowed overnight, casting the forest in a soft white glow that made him homesick for Rhys’s own cabin within the Illyrian mountains. A few footprints had marred the otherwise pristine landscape- Aegan. She must’ve left while he slept, like usual.

Even though he couldn’t care less if Aegan decided to work so early in the morning, he still felt a twinge of hurt at her absence. ‘She could’ve at least said goodbye’, he thought to himself, before shaking his head clear. No, he didn’t need her here to wish him luck- this was a mission after all. He had done it a thousand times. 

He dressed fairly quickly, stepping out of the cabin once he found his bag. He spread his wings, preparing to launch himself into the air-

“Going already?” 

Azriel flinched, before letting out a string of curses. “Didn’t know you were still here, Aegan.” 

She had been sitting on her favorite perch- the roof- her wings spread out to absorb the sun’s relatively warm rays. She discarded her Illyrian armor, and was wearing a simple black sweater and leggings instead- she must’ve been cold. 

Launching herself off of the roof, she landed in the knee deep snow, trudging towards him. “How long will you be gone?” 

“Two days- I’ll be back late tomorrow night.”

She nodded, before placing a hand on his shoulder. “Stay safe.” 

Azriel arched an eyebrow. “

Her hand dropped from his shoulder. “The one time I try to be pleasant, and I am criticized.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You? Pleasant? I don’t think that’s possible.” Still, he clapped her on the shoulder. “I’ll be safe”, he assured her, patting Truthteller, which was strapped securely at his side. “Don’t worry.”

She sighed, taking a step back to give him room. “Send my regards to Nesta and Estelle!” 

He smiled faintly. “We’ll see”, was all he said, before launching himself into the sky. 

~Aegan’s POV~

She watched him go, until he disappeared from view. “‘We’ll see? Bastard”, she growled, before the familiar smell of blood and frankincense wafted through her nose. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. “Glad to see you got my message.”

“I’m just surprised I remembered where you left your letters”, Sasha replied, walking up to her. “What seems to be the problem?” 

Aegan finally glanced over at her. “I need you to send a message for me.” She then smiled slightly. “You look better than before.” 

She grinned, patting her stomach with a bloodied hand. “Well, I have been eating actual food.” 

Aegan frowned at the sight of blood. “What happened to stay out of trouble?” 

Sasha’s grin fell. “That’s the thing I’ve been wanting to tell you. For the last couple of days, I’ve been noticing new… visitors in the surrounding region. They’re not of the Night Court, neither are they of Prythian”. 

“Hybern?” 

She nodded gravely. “I ran into a small group while making my way over to you. All of them were heavily armed with both magic and weapons. They managed to spot me, but I took care of them.” 

“Obviously”, she muttered, as Sasha wiped some blood off on her pants. “How many have you counted so far?”

“At least 20, though I bet that number will grow.” 

“It can’t be a coincidence”, Aegan muttered, her eyes staring in the direction of the Ironcrest camp. “How fast can you get to Velaris?”

Sasha scoffed. “So fast the High Lord wouldn’t know I was there until I was gone with half of his money.” 

Aegan smiled slightly. “Good. There’s two females there- Nesta Archeron and Estelle. Give this”, she waved a yellow envelope in the air, “to Nesta- she’s fae, and is usually scowling.”

“May I ask what it entails?” 

“It’s a request for information- and a warning.”

Sasha took the letter from her, tucking it into a pocket as she frowned. “A warning for what?” 

“Ironcrest has been growing in number, at a rate that isn’t natural. And now hybern soldiers are frequenting their borders.” Aegan took a deep breath, steeling herself  slightly. “Ironcrest’s preparing for war. And we have to be ready for it.”

@callie-bear15

@thisgryffindorlllyrian

@nestaarcheronwillkillme

@dreamworld-1997

@rairrai

@deezrmuhsheeple​

@my-fan-side

@homicidalbaker

[muse-what-are-you-doing]

Kiwame 4

For reasons relating to gore, this entire part has been put under read more. For those who don’t want to read the gore itself, I have inserted a picture to notify you that the gore is over please continue reading after that.

This part is also a little longer than previous parts simply because there is more happening. Please enjoy.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Chapter List

Silken threads danced and surrounded him in the blackness. The glistened in an unseen light and scattered the torn threads of an unspun cocoon. Their delicacy contrasted their necessity and burned bright with the heat of life. They morphed into misshapen disks and halted their flight unexpectedly.

With the threads’ dance complete he lowered his blade and the darkness gradually faded starting at the edges of his sight. He panted heavily, feeling his muscles twitch eagerly to repeat and continue the actions of battle he’d trained so long to obtain without giving it any thought. His body heaved with such hear that each gasp of air from his throat puffed out like the smoke of a dragon’s raging bellows.

Gradually his eyes readjusted to the light and allowed him to see the carnage. Mangled bodies stewed and dyed in crimson lay scattered in pieces at his feet. No. To say they were bodies was to say they were still recognizable.

Corpses.

Some still held swords in their hands, swords he recognized almost better than their actual weilders. His breathing hitched as the scent of iron rust assaulted his senses and caused his eyes to water. He remained frozen, staring in disbelief at the dead scattered before him.

He gazed at each of them, placing faces to the many blades and feeling his stomach turn with every one he recognized. Sengo’s legs had turned to useless noodles as he doubled over. He wretched and his body convulsed several times until there was no longer anything to expel from his stomach and he was forced to remain kneeling there among the gore.

His eyes looked to the blade in his hands drenched in blood. He dropped it and recoiled, trying to scoot away on his hands as far as he could from the weapon until an obstacle stopped him. He fearfully looked over his shoulder, knowing that it would be one of those same corpses, but not knowing exactly who. Purple and red fabric . . . no; the edges were white. His eyes widened and he shakily reached out to touch the body still radiating heat.

Just before his hand could brush them he felt his whole body give a jerk and his eyes were wide open staring at the ceiling of the Muramasa clan’s shared room. In the darkness he needed a moment to calm his racing heart and think.

A dream; it’s just a dream. He’s in his room. He can feel Tonbokiri’s heat from the futon next to him. So logically it’s his room, right? His eyes adjust and gain enough focus for him to see the little glow in the dark star stickers the tantous had somehow managed to stick on the ceiling. (Tonbokiri didn’t mind them and he was too short to remove them alone so they stayed where they were.)

He let out a shaky sigh after realizing he’d been holding his breath and sat up, trying not to wake up Tonbokiri. At his feet he could see Nihongou and Otegine sprawled out in individual futons. Nihongou snored loudly enough to shake the room and it was an instant wonder how that hadn’t woken him.

Silently as to not wake any of them, Sengo laid back down and tried to focus on calming his anxious heart. Just as he could feel his heart calming down someone in the darkness spoke to him.

“Another nightmare, isn’t it?”

He looked the opposite direction of Tonbokiri and silently nodded his head, not at all caring if the other couldn’t see. A hand suddenly took gentle hold of shoulder and Sengo made to slap it away but stopped. Tonbokiri was trying to comfort him. It was sweet but unnecessary.

“Go back to sleep, Tonbokiri.”

“Come here,” he sounded moderately exasperated as he coerced Sengo to come closer and join him in his futon. He cupped the back of Sengo’s head and tucked him under his chin, his hold gentle enough to let the other slip away if he changed his mind but firm enough to remind him he wasn’t alone.

He didn’t ask anything about the dream and Sengo was unwilling to say anything about it so a very long moment of silence passed between them before Sengo tried to change their focus for the better.

“Why are Nihongou and Otegine in our room?”

The exasperation slipped back into his voice with a laugh. “When the master and I returned the three of you were plastered. I carried you and Nihongou on my shoulders and dragged Otegine here. I figured it was better to just keep all three of you together where I could keep an eye on you.”

Sengo breathed a laugh this time. His clansman was such a worry wart. But he was a good man who didn’t just speak, he acted. And that’s one of the things he liked most about him.

In the end he never fell back asleep. Nihongou and Otegine were sent off first thing in the morning so everyone could get dressed. He had to admit he was glad about that, the scars on his back were a little hard to explain to someone “out of the loop” so to speak.

Given his drunken escapade last night where he’d fallen off the porch running to try and hug Tonbokiri upon his return (he could never remember the porch being that short before) Saniwa had been kind enough to let him take the day off from field work and sorties to recover from his hang over.

After that he remained as close as possible to Tonbokiri, barely ever an arm’s length away from him during breakfast and even following him to help with the horsekeeping. While cleaning the stalls he couldn’t help but notice a certain black mare that kept wandering back to the stable and following Tonbokiri to and from the hay piles.

Sengo laughed and leaned against a stall door while watching the horse spy on Tonbokiri. “She seems to like you. Does she always follow you around like that?”

“She does.” Tonbokiri laughed as well and reached out to pet the horse’s face. “She is Mikuniguro, named for the horse of my former master.

Sengo timidly scooted closer to the beast and let her get a sniff before petting her just as Tonbokiri had. His expression lit up when the horse promptly nuzzled into his hand and he started to excitedly pet her with both hands.

“She seems to like you too.” Tonbokiri decided to leave the two alone while he finished the remaining chores. When he came back, the two were still standing in much the same way, he almost didn’t want to call Sengo away.

“Muramasa.” When he had his attention he pointed toward the citadel. “You’ve been working hard. Go drink some water, I’ll be there in a minute.” He needed to watch the horses enjoying their free time outside a little longer before returning them to the stalls.

The shorter sword nodded and strolled back toward the porch to seat himself alone while he waited. “Horses can’t be swayed by reputation, can they?”

“They never are. Horses are smart enough to respond to a person’s heart instead.” Sengo blinked as he felt a gentle hand rest on his head and flatten his hair. He tilted his head up to see the person and smiled at them.

“Kogarasumaru.”

“Did you have fun with the horses?”

Sengo chuckled, “we passed the time peacefully.”

“That is good. Without horses there would be no us.” Kogarasumaru seated himself on the porch beside him and set down two bottles of water and a small bag of sugar candies that he placed in his hand.

“Konpeitō?” The two pieces of hair upon his head twitched excitedly. “Are you giving me these?” At his nod he cocked a head. “Why?”

“It’s natural for a father to want to spoil his children. There’s also water for both of you.”

“That’s true I guess.” He’d share them with Tonbokiri when he got back. For now, that water was calling him.

While he guzzled it down, Kogarasumaru spoke again. “Tonbokiri was very excited when he learned you were coming. He told everyone ‘Muramasa is a very kind person. Sometimes he is hard to understand, but he is earnest and affectionate and protective. He likes to joke and make people smile. If you need help, he is someone to rely on.’ He was over joyed when Saniwa told him they were working to bring you to the citadel.”

Sengo nearly chocked at the sudden onslaught of information from the longer (albeit shorter) sword warrior. “That Tonbokiri is always doing something unnecessary.”

“He holds you in esteem so of course he’d like to brag about you. You’re his only family.”

“I wonder if he ever regrets feeling that way.” His head lowered and he stared at the water bottle in his dirty hands. What a fitting image. His dirty and stained hands separated from the pure water by a window allowing him to only gaze at the liquid that shimmered with the light of the sun. Or maybe he was just putting too much thought into that.

“Tonbokiri is like you.” He looked up at that. “He is kind and earnest, protective, and always puts others above himself. Tonbokiri is not a bad person and neither are you.” Kogarasumaru got up and put his hand on Sengo’s head again as he spoke before leaving. “Drink plenty of water and take a nap after lunch. You look tired. That’s a direct order from your father.”

Part 5 || Chapter List

[onwesterlywinds]

The Elementalist

During his twentieth night out of Limsa Lominsa, Ingvald came across a woman dancing in the Sagolii.

In truth, her feet barely left the sands; he did not know why he thought of her movements as dancing. Instead she conjured plumes of flame with each gesture of her arms, and it was these that moved through the dark with mesmerizing grace. Their lights, propelled by her palms, soared higher and higher as if to burn out each star in the clear desert sky. He stood transfixed, and he could not help but recall nights spent up in the Razor Mountains with his parents and Wilhelm - the way he had watched sparks from their countless campfires dance on crisp Gyr Abanian winds while Wilhelm dug lines into the dirt at their feet with the fire poker.

The woman had covered her brown skin in some sort of chalky white pigment, for reasons he suspected had more to do with aesthetics than with any sort of protection from the sun. She was dressed light for travel through the desert: across her waist hung draping layers of an airy green fabric suited to reconfiguration in the event of changing weather conditions. Though a thin veil obscured the lower half of her face, the set of her broad shoulders and the intensity in her eyes as she focused on her task confirmed that she could only be Ala Mhigan.

At last she loosed a particularly violent plume of flame high into the air, then remained frozen with one hand stretched aloft. When the last tendrils of that heat disappeared once and for all into the night, her body drooped with exhaustion; only then did she turn, and the gaze she fixed him with was as sure a challenge as any he had ever seen.

Ingvald had brought some liquor with him from Limsa Lominsa, chosen more for its proof than its taste. He had never been a heavy drinker - he had never been comfortable lowering his inhibitions to any noticeable extent - but it was the only sleep aid he could think of that would be easy to obtain and replenish. Even so, he felt a pang of guilt each time he so much as considered resorting to it. Doubtless Orella would have had something to say on the matter, but the fact was that he slept much worse without her, and that her prolonged absence made her thoughts irrelevant for the time being.

"We share an affliction, then."

The woman had appropriated his flask in exchange for a seat at the fire she'd built from some slow-burning desert brush. Ingvald cast her a sidelong glance as she took yet another long swig, then shook his head.

She rolled her dark eyes at him without breaking her mouth from the flask. "Not the drink," she retorted once she'd replaced the cap with a sigh. "I mean that you're overattuned to the astral elements as well. To an extent that shouldn't be possible."

As Ingvald made to voice some denial, to fight back against the anger or embarrassment that flushed his face, something deep within his newly-awakened aether reacted to the campfire crackling before him. A shower of sparks flew into the air with a pop like that of a whip, and whatever words he might have been about to say were cut short. "...I suppose you haven't found a way to control it," he relented.

"Not yet." The woman shrugged. "Simply letting it all out does help, at least for a time. Like exercising to stave off physical strain, I would imagine." The metaphor made sense to Ingvald, and he nodded. "Still, the more I draw it out, the stronger it becomes. Which means..."

"More of it to expel each time." Ingvald wondered just how long this woman had been on her own, purging herself night after night in vain.

The woman did not reply, and the silence between them stretched out as the fire settled back down to its steady glow. Ingvald could not help but steal glances at her, watching her bore her gaze deep into the burning brush. He did not doubt that she had managed to survive alone in the Sagolii for any length of time - yet the more he took in of her thin cheeks and prominent ribs, the more he realized that such a thing should not have been possible. Even with her obvious skill for astral magicks, there was a sort of physical frailty to her that Ingvald could not place until the whole of her body suddenly shuddered from some phantom chill. He had first seen that reaction many years ago, outside of Ala Ghiri's somnus dens.

"You're a warrior of some sort."

"...Aye."

"Then it should be simple enough for you." Something in her tone of voice sounded almost accusatory and Ingvald furrowed his brow as he tried to discern an insult in her words, but her eyes held no unkindness that he could see. "Try balancing your magicks with whichever attacks you're used to."

He stared, a little agape at the thought.

"Don't give me that look. It's a focusing and unleashing of energy, albeit of a different sort. Still the same basic principle as casting."

"I'd need a weapon light enough to offset-"

The woman nodded toward her bag. "I found a rapier in the sands the other day. If you think you can wield it, it's all yours."

Ingvald neither liked nor trusted her wording, and confronted her with a glare.

"Fine," she admitted. "I picked it up from a corpse."

He remembered the fundamentals of the rapier, though it had been well over a decade since he had last wielded one. The Garleans had little use for such weapons, as blades so thin were impossible to mount one of their hideous explosives to. He turned to the woman's belongings and saw, in addition to a brass walking staff, the hilt of a sword jutting out from a bag. The rapier itself looked well-made, for one that had seen its previous owner dead; when he hefted it in his right hand, he found it perfectly balanced. He gave a few tentative jabs into the darkness, then mimed a riposte.

He raised his left hand, just as he had seen the woman do, and a nearby shrub ignited with a flash. When he glanced back down to where she sat, she had one eyebrow raised.

"Former Kingsguard," he muttered. "They gave us weapons proficiency training."

"Kingsguard." Her lips curled into a sneer. "I suppose I needn't ask what you think of your fellows holed up in the Sepulchre."

If he had had the least bit of respect for what his order had become, he would have remained with them when he’d found their hideout the previous day. As it was, he had not even bothered asking them if they had seen any trace of Orella. "You've a grudge against the Kingsguard?" Not that he blamed her, even after twenty years; though he had taken little part in most of the killings, he and his would have much to answer for if Ala Mhigo were ever truly freed.

But the woman shook her head. "I did, once," she replied. "But no. All traces of it left me the moment the Garleans came."

She did not elaborate, and he did not press her further. He focused on an arbitrary spot in the distance, an imaginary Garlean at least twenty paces off, and did not flinch as a tiny bolt of lightning arced from the tip of his rapier. In the next breath, he lunged with a swiftness he thought his body had forgotten, and two more bursts of flame arced from the palm of his free hand.

When he glanced at the woman out of the corner of his eye, she gave him a faint nod. "And how did that feel?"

"Like..." Like sparring with Wilhelm. "Like I could keep at it for ages."

"Where are you bound?" he said as he laid out his supplies for the night. The rapier lay beside his head, unsheathed, a surer comfort for sleep than the alcohol ever had been.

"Nowhere in particular. With my magic as volatile as it is at present, I'm only barely fit to be a part of civilization. Cities, crowds..."

"I've a mind to join you."

"And why would you be remotely interested-"

"It's as you said. We share an affliction."

She said nothing more until the glow of the embers had nearly faded entirely. "I have one condition."

"Hm." If it were truly so horrid, there would be nothing stopping him from walking away at dawn.

"Whenever we part ways, go to the Sandsea - a bar in the Goblet." From her shifting skirts, she withdrew a bright purple handkerchief edged in lace and folded into a neat triangle. "And take this to the proprietress." She handed over the fabric swiftly but with great care, as though she expected it to immolate in her fingers at any moment. It was soft to the touch, made from some sort of subtly-patterned silk that Ingvald had never seen before. He tucked it into his breast pocket.

"What do I call you?"

"Tia. Yourself?"

"Ingvald. Ingvald Bloodhound."

"Right, then. Sleep well, Ser Bloodhound."

Instinctively, he tensed. The last time he'd been called by that name - a name he'd once aspired to but had never truly earned - he had been getting the piss knocked out of him in a castrum shower stall. To suppress his discomfort, he rolled out the thin blanket he'd brought with him from Vylbrand and bundled himself away from the cold night sands. "Just... one more thing." Far above them lay a vast array of stars, as painfully distant there and then as they had been up in the Peaks so long ago. "What is it you're after, Tia?"

She was silent for so long that at first Ingvald wondered if she had fallen asleep in those intervening seconds. When she spoke at last, her words came intertwined with the vaguest hint of laughter.

"To burn down the Baert Trading Company."

[hekate1308]

As You Are

Drowley once more, I am afraid. More Destiel will be coming, though. AU, mafia boss!Crowley, married Drowley. Enjoy!

His husband would never forgive him for getting blood on the carpet. It was Dean who had insisted on the thing (Crowley had from the first thought it was hideous) and now he’d dropped a body on it.

It was the fool’s own damn fault. He should have known there’d be a knife coming. How dared he break in and try to kill him as if he was a run-of-the-mill minion anyway?

There was a reason they’d called him the King of Hell, once.

Still, things between him and Dean hadn’t been going well lately, and now the carpet...

It didn’t matter anyway, he realized suddenly.

He would have to leave. He’d never force Dean to vanish and never see his family again, so that meant...

Dean would probably be happy to watch him go. It seemed like all they’d done during the last few months was fight, and over the most trivial things, too.

“For God’s sake, it’s a couch, just pick one!”

“I would like to be comfortable in my own home – “

“How am I supposed to know what you “like” since you never tell me a thing – “

Maybe they had been doomed from the start. There were just some things he’d never been able to share with Dean, things that had slowly come between them, things that, if he’d known them, would have led to him running away at top speed, and...

Crowley should have known better.

His only excuse was that Dean had looked as gorgeous on the morning he met as he always did, and that he’d known from the first minute that he wanted him.

He sighed as he sat down on the couch.

He was getting too old for carrying bodies around on his own, but this time it couldn’t be helped. And in the morning, he’d tell his husband he wanted a divorce.

He wearily eyed their wedding picture on the wall. Five maddening, insane, wonderful years, the best years of his life, and it was all over.

He really was getting old. He’d fallen asleep right there, on the couch he’d picked out just last week, and woke up to Dean asking in a pointed manner, “Crowley, why is there a corpse in our living room and why is there a knife in its back?”

He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he replied, “Sorry about the carpet.”

“Sorry about – oh God, it really was you”. Dean was looking at the body.

“But why in the back, you can’t tell me – “

All in all, Crowley was rather impressed with his husband’s calmness at the situation. He’d waited for hot, boiling rage. Or maybe fear.

“I had to kill him before he harmed you”.

“Had to... Crowley, we call the police if there’s an intruder in the house. This is what they are for.”

“Not when you happen to be me, darling”.

“Don’t call me that” Dean snapped; for some reason, he’d always hated that particular pet name.

“I’m calling 911. Someone will have to clean up here – “

“Dean, you can’t” he said hastily, getting up.

“Don’t be an idiot, I have to. I’ll call Sam too, it was self defence of course, but why did it have to be in the back – “

“It was dark and I had to throw it”.

“It was... of course you did”. Crowley ripped his phone out of his hands.

“Give that back!”

“I won’t. Sit down so I can explain”.

Dean made an annoyed sound but did sit down.

“Alright. You got five minutes before I – “

“Dean, my real name was never Crowley Sheppard”.

Like ripping off a band-aid, he told himself. He’d always been against useless pain.

Useful pain, to gather information for example, was something else entirely, but that was a subject for another day.

“What?” Dean blinked.

“My name wasn’t Crowley Sheppard. It was Fergus MacLeod”.

“Why would you give me a false name? And why tell me now?”

He wasn’t even angry; that’s how little he already meant to the man he’d married.

Apparently he’d never heard of him, but that didn’t surprise him. People paid little attention to details when it came to news about criminals, unless they happened to be very notorious, and he’d always been content to keep himself in the background.

“From the Hell cartel”.

The media had been responsible for that nickname, and it was more than reasonable to assume Dean had heard about it at some point.

Since a few years had passed, he needed a moment to place the name.

His eyes widened and he moved away from him on the couch.

That was it then, the moment he finally lost him.

He reminded himself it had been coming for some time.

“Wasn’t MacLeod... are you telling me you were a freaking mob boss!?”

“That is exactly what I am telling you”.

“Are you kidding me?”

Dean sprang up and started to pace up and down, pointedly ignoring the body.

“I married – wait why the assumed name? And why did you go after me in the first place? Suburbia isn’t exactly what gangsters usually go for... oh God it was all a cover, wasn’t it. Every single minute. You were playing me...”

“No” he interrupted him. “I wasn’t. I assure you, I wanted to marry you”.

“But... why?”

“What do you know about the Hell cartel?”

“I... didn’t the feds get them all a few years ago?”

“You’re looking at the chief witness against them. As well as several other high-profile criminals”.  

“But... wasn’t it your cartel to begin with”.

“Yes. And then...”

Crowley took a deep breath.

“I told you about Gavin”.

Dean nodded.

“You said you never wanted to talk about him again. I know you still miss him, though”.

He smiled at him somehow weakly. The years had dampened the feeling of loss slightly, but the guilt was as strong as ever.

“We didn’t really get along for years. He spent most of the time with his mother, and I... I didn’t feel comfortable as a father”.

“I suppose you had enough to do”.

Dean was actually joking. There was hope then, of at least parting ways amiably.

“But... things got better. Eventually. He and his girlfriend were on his way to visit me when they had the car accident”.

He’d told Dean as much. Then he’d demanded they never mention it again because he hadn’t wanted to repeat half-truths again and again.

“It turned out someone had cut the breaks of their car. The...” He swallowed.

On to something else he’d never confessed to Dean.

“The autopsy revealed Fiona was pregnant. I think that’s why they wanted to see me... They wanted to tell me in person.”

“Oh Crowley”.

Dean sat down next to him and reached out to squeeze his hand.

“I’m so sorry”.

He nodded, acknowledging the comfort he’d never been able to ask for before.

“I decided to investigate myself... it was members of my own cartel”.

“Back stabbing sons of bitches” Dean said, earning a smile.

“I decided I was done with it all.”

“So you went into witness protection?”

He chuckled.

“It took a while for the FBI to believe I was being sincere”.

“Can’t imagine why. And this guy...”

Dean gestured towards the corpse without looking in its direction. He was still holding Crowley’s hand, and he cherished the contact. It was the last time after all.

“The FBI have always been grossly incompetent. A few managed to escape... No one high up in the organization, but still.”

“I see. So he came for revenge”.

“I didn’t leave him the time to explain himself”.

Dean nodded.

“So what now? We call your... handler or whatever in the FBI?”

He nodded.

“I suppose I’ll be out of your hair in a few hours”.

“What do you mean?”

Dean withdrew his hand abruptly.

“They’ll hardly leave me here, and I know you’d never move away from your family. I won’t expect you to follow me. They’ll probably fake my death like they did before...”

Only he’d had no one left behind but his mother at the time, and she’d most likely been glad he was gone.

“So... that’s it? Five years, three of them married, and you’re just going to leave me here?”

He shouldn’t have, but he enjoyed the hurt in Dean’s voice. Even after all their fights, he was still angry at him for going away. He was still that important to him, at least.

“I told you...”

“Okay, you said that would happen if you called the FBI. So what if you don’t?”

“Dean, there’s a body on the floor”.

“I know and you’re paying for the new carpet, mister, but that’s not the point.”

Dean looked down at the body again, this time seizing it up.

“We need shovels and flowers”.

“Flowers?”

“We do have a garden, don’t we?”

Crowley’s eyes widened.

“Are you suggesting...”

“We burry this thing and forget about it, yeah. Does he have any friends likely to look for him?”

He shook his head.

“Even if he told someone where he was going, they’ll guess what happened and keep their mouths shut”.

“Well then”.

This was a side of his husband Crowley had never seen before, and he was enjoying it immensely. And yet...

“Dean, what do you think you are doing?”

“Keeping my husband” he replied simply, stepping up to him.

God, it had been too long since he saw that gleam in his eyes.

“Are you propositioning me over a dead body?”

“We’re not standing over it exactly. Don’t act so high and mighty, you were the mob boss here”.

“I’m just surprised”.

Dean grinned and gave him a shove. He landed on the couch, Dean towering over him.

“What can I say? There is something sexy about a man being ready to kill for you”.

He pulled him down and kissed him.

They made love right there as they hadn’t in too long, desperately, passionately.

Three weeks later

Sam and Sarah arrived at Dean’s and Crowley’s barbecue a little late, but there was nothing Dean couldn’t forgive if it meant seeing his nephew.

“Hey mini-me”.

“Should have known there would be repercussions for naming him Dean” Sam muttered, but he was smiling.

His smile only grew bigger when Crowley stepped up to Dean to greet them, his hand resting at the small of his husband’s back, and he actually relaxed into the touch.

Things were looking up.

He and Sarah had been worried about Dean’s marriage for a while now. They just didn’t seem to have anything to say about each other, and if he’d had to hear about Dean’s “blue balls” one more time...

That was a thing of the past too, if Dean’s posture was anything to go by. He remembered it well from their teenage years.

Crowley and Sarah were talking about Dean Jr. while he was working on the grill; Sam came to talk to him after Benny had moved away.

“Things seem to be going well” he said carefully.

Dean grinned.

“Yeah. We were in a bad spot for a while, but we talked it all through – no more secrets.”

Sam snorted.

“I bet a business man has a lot of those”.

For some reason, Dean chuckled.

“I’d tell ya, but I’d have to kill ya”.

After a moment he added, “We’ve been talking about kids. Nothing specific yet, but – you know”.

“Dean, that’s awesome!”

Dean had always wanted kids. Crowley hadn’t seemed to be interested until now. Maybe he’d needed some more time to get over his son’s death? Sam could easily imagine that.

His eyes wandered to the new addition in the garden.

“That’s a good place for a flower bed.”

Dean grinned.

“Yeah, thought I’d try something new. Charlie had a freak-out about it earlier, you can go fangirl with her”.

“I wouldn’t go that far, but it looks pretty nice”.

“We did it together. Sort of bonding experience, you know...”

He caught his husband’s eyes and smiled.

[vanyel-or-just-van]

My Last Breath

Hey everyone, I’m finally back to getting stuff written again! This idea came to me while listening to music after having seen this lovely piece of artwork right here by @ufficiosulretro, and it took a while, but here it is. Van’s back, baby.

Read it here on AO3!

TW: Major Character Death

It was always the strangest feeling. Being wide , liquid, spread across the ground like an oil spill. Normally, Reaper reformed himself as quickly as he could, shuddering off the crawling feeling that came with wraithing into a less-than-humanoid form.

This time, he didn’t really have a choice. He could hear the wheeze of what was left of his lungs, struggling in the dust-choked air. One claw curled against the ground in futility.

Talon must have expected this could happen, Reaper mused in the haziness. They had kept the planting of the bombs secret from him even during the mission. One of them must have been watching him during the attack on the rebuilding Overwatch base. He had remembered who he was. And that made him a security risk.

“Oh, no...”

A voice. Soft, choked, disbelieving. The sound of small footsteps growing faster, closer. “No, no, no!” Reaper had to focus to turn his head, looking up at the figure kneeling next to the center of his smokey puddle.The bright white shone through the dust. Even with her wings gone and halo broken. Even with the handle of her shattered staff hanging from her belt. Even with blood and dirt spattering her uniform. Mercy still looked like an angel. “Gabriel...” His voice was a whisper, barely loud enough to cross the space between them. “I’m afraid...you arrived too late...this time, doc.” Reaper ignored her soft protest, feeling the faint touch of tears falling onto his mask. “And I guess...there’s very little you can do...without your staff.”

Mercy’s hand stroked over his mask, wiping away the dust. Reaper closed his eyes, feeling the pull of the darkness and letting himself go to whatever waited for him now.

“You are wrong.”

He opened his eyes to the sight of a glimmering, golden soul, the purest he’d ever seen. It glimmered with life. A delicate hand held it towards him. Her voice was so gentle. “Take this.” Reaper felt the edges of his form pulling in, curling up into the air like curious feelers. One hand came up, reaching for Mercy’s slumping form, trying to push her and the soul away from himself. “Angela,” he whispered, feeling a deep fear settling in his chest for the first time in years. “No...” Mercy’s head dropped, and she slowly fell into his arms.

“NO!” The soul touched his chest, and like a tide, the smoke surged around them. It flared with a crimson light, flowing into the soul and lighting the scene with a deep orange glow. Reaper could feel the strength seeping from the body in his arms into himself, sitting up and holding onto her tightly, trying to fight his power. The motion swung Mercy’s form back, wings flaring with one last flash of golden feathers that slowly dulled to white, falling into the darkness gathered over the ground.

Reaper stood, holding her in his arms. She really was as light as a feather. All the old jokes they had made about it - her standing on his shoulder to look down on Reinhardt, him lifting her out of his spot on the couch - seemed now like they never had gotten at the core of the feeling. Even limp like this, Angela hardly weighed a thing.

Some part of him, some desperate remnant of something he thought had been destroyed long ago, still thought he could save her, or find someone who could. The touch of a heartbeat inside of him told Reaper that the soul had not been instantly swallowed down like they normally were, turned into raw power. Hers was still intact. There might be time. There HAD to be time. The rest of him knew better. He was Death. Once he got a hold of someone, of their soul, there was no saving them.

Quietly, Reaper turned into smoke, staying just solid enough to hold Mercy against himself as he ghosted away from the settling rubble. He avoided any signs of life. Both Overwatch and Talon would turn their guns on him now, if he knew anything about how they worked. And he did. Far too well.

Finally, he slowed down, shifting back to solid form and ducking into a ruined bunker at the edge of the blast radius. Footsteps in the dust and the scent of fresh blood showed this area had already been cleaned out after the explosion. He could rest here.

Unwilling to set down his cargo, Reaper turned around and sat down against a broken wall, sliding his back against the rubble and wishing he could feel the scrape of it. He shifted Mercy in his arms. The clawed glove faded from a hand, which rose to touch, cold scars tracing over her face.

The color had hardly dimmed from her cheeks, and she looked like she was just sleeping. She was still warm. Reaper could feel the same warmth inside of him. He felt alive.

Curling in, Reaper pulled off his mask with one hand, setting it aside. He rested his forehead against Mercy’s and closed his eyes, drifting.

“I’m so sorry.” A whisper in the night.

//

“Gabriel. Gabriel? Can you hear me? I know you hear me, sleepyhead.”

The gentle voice pulled him from his reverie. Turning, he looked into Angela’s eyes, seeing the small smile light up her face. “Heh. You always were so confused upon just waking up, weren’t you?” Angela teased lightly, ignoring the sputtered babble as Gabriel pulled her tight, feeling her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him in turn, hugging softly. “Don’t get yourself all worked up over this. I’m dead.” A quiet sigh. “We both know this. You can hold onto me as tight as you want to, love, but you know I can’t stay long.” Gabriel pulled back in confusion, looking her over. “But...but...Angela, how-” “You decided to slow down, for once.” A soft chuckle, Angela pulling back enough to meet his eyes once more. “I knew what I was doing when I handed you my soul. You trying to put it back has slowed your body’s absorption of it, and since I was aware of my soul on such a level at my last breath, I...left you something.”

She gestured with one hand, and the world disappeared into whiteness. A few soft beams of light appeared, shining and twisting into orbs that hovered in the air a short distance away. They flickered, as if something inside was moving.

“My memories. Our memories.”

Gently, disbelieving, Gabriel reached out towards them. One orb floated closer into his palm, shifting to display a scene from a lifetime ago. “This...this is the first time we met. From your eyes.” His voice was quiet and low, watching himself walk into the field of view. “...I really needed a haircut.”

Angela smiled, lifting his chin and waving once more. Suddenly there were orbs everywhere. Filling up to the impossible white horizon, twinkling like stars.

“I saved them all, Gabriel.” She leaned against his chest, closing her eyes and letting all the orbs except the one in his hand fade away. The world dimmed lightly. “All my thoughts of you. All the time we shared, and the time apart. I kept them safe, inside myself.”

One hand curled gently against his heart. “And now, they are safe inside of you. I give them to you. They cannot make you forget who you are ever again.”

Gabriel felt his throat close, too many words to be said. They all seemed flat, flimsy, in the face of...this. “Angela, I...I’m sorry-”

She placed a finger on his lips, shushing him.

“You don’t have to apologize, Gabriel,” she said quietly. “I didn’t make this space to hear that from you. All I wanted to say is I love you, and I’m not afraid. I’d long outlived my time, and this way at least one of us makes it out of there with the truth. I chose my last life to save, and I would not have chosen anyone else.”

Thoroughly chastened, Gabriel simply pulled Angela closer against his chest. He felt the slow, steady thrum of her heartbeat. Too slow. Fading.

“Angela.” His voice broke. “I love you.”

Angela smiled against his shoulder, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. “I know, Gabriel. I know. And when the time comes, you will know where to find me again.”

She leaned up, pressing her lips against his softly.

“Goodbye.”

//

When Reaper woke, he was crying. The tears burned against his skin, and tasted of salt.

Carefully, he tipped the figure of Mercy up, propped up in his arms like she was lounging in a sunchair, rather than against the shoulders of Death. One hand curled softly against her cheek, gazing at the face of what was once the woman he loved. It was cold, even to his touch, and Reaper felt the finality of it sink in.

He’d fallen asleep in her memories, absorbing the last of her soul. She's not there. No one's there. This is just...just another corpse. The remnants of his heart curled up at the thought as he picked up his mask.

//

Overwatch had retreated to the tertiary extraction point after finding the first two compromised by Talon agents, licking its wounds and running through what was left of their defenses. The explosion had scattered them, and they couldn't be sure that there weren't more of their people still picking their way out of the rubble. Several sights trained on the figure approaching from the darkness, visible only because of a strip of white bobbing some feet off the ground, growing larger and clearer into the shape of- "Angela!" Winston dashed forward, stopping as the form carrying her stepped into the light. Reaper seemed unfazed by the guns aimed at his impassive mask. "What have you done to her?" His tone cut through the crowd, silencing everyone. Reaper looked down at the body, then back up at the group. His voice was uncharacteristically gentle, the rasp muted even as it cut through the stillness. "Bury her on the eastern hill." Next to the lilies, where she could watch the sun rise. Like she used to. He held Mercy out, and the group looked at themselves confused, before Winston slowly lifted her from his arms. The wraith looked over them, giving a tense nod. And then Reaper swirled into smoke, disappearing into the fading shadows as the sun crept over the horizon. As he glanced back up at the sky, he felt...almost a warmth come around him, like the memory of gentle arms, and he could swear that he saw a glimmer of wings.

[kateemmerson]

When Habits are Abandoned, Dancer's Pose is Elusive

Fancy a laugh at my expense again? Not as much running and mad-dashing through airports this time…. more like simply too much horizontal time….

I know the power of ritual and ingrained habits. As a coach, it has been one of the cornerstones of my business and of course my own personal practice. One of my habits/rituals that serves me super-well is that of my morning ritual during the week. So  the only way I know how to do it, is that the instant my morning alarm goes off on the phone, I fumble for the screen to switch it off and I hit the floor – I am upright before I can blink and I don’t even allow myself the luxury to think about it because in that split nano-second of pondering it – well suffice it to say, I’m totally screwed.

So at 5.15 am this morning, said alarm squeaks and beeps……and I dare, for some stupid reason, to think. Not “Daring Greatly” as Brene Brown suggests, or daring to lie back for a cuddle; just daring to stop and think. It’s called negotiating with the alarm, and I have always found it both futile and daft!

But for a stupid moment this morning,  I imagine that maybe I can have just five more sweet, little minutes. 300 seconds!  But I never have a backup alarm because I don’t need it, do I? DO I??

Truth is, to put it in context,  I had been up in the middle of the night not able to fall back asleep, so I just got up and was drinking tea and working. For about 2 hours in the dead of night, I was reading all about Northern Spain and the Camino, contemplating all the wonderful walks and hikes in the Asturias for our retreat in October…so I was ”justifiably” tired when it squeaked at that ungodly hour.

It beeps at that hour because I haul my butt to Yoga – and YES, you guessed it, because I am also an early-morning-exercise-ritual-person. But the Gods were beaming down on me because a few minutes later, a much louder alarm yelled at me and then I did my usual LEAP. I looked at my phone, it was now 5.32, and I KNEW that I could still make it to yoga. Dash to pee/teeth/dress, and as I grab the keys I cannot find my red-rimmed glasses – oh well, sunglasses it is! At 5.36 in the morning on a cloudy drab day. COOL!

I hurtle to the car and feel decidedly BREEZY – only to look down and realize I am only wearing my little bra-let / tank top and no vest layered on top. Now yes, I MAY practice Bikram/ Hot Yoga, but I am not one of those scantily clad “bear-my-middle” yogibears. Damn – I dash back in to grab my vest, thinking I MUST remember to put it on at the studio. I have never had the horror of staring back at my midriff in the HUUUUGE mirrors.

Ok, let’s GO! I speed reverse and hit first gear. I did think, “wow it’s quite light this morning”, (even with clouds and my sunglasses) and then as I get onto the flat part of the road before I join Conrad Drive, I see about 20 cars ahead of me…..huh?

This is more like morning traffic that I NEVER venture into, reserved for the poor souls who have to commute out of our neighborhood. This is more like 6.45 am traffic – WTF??? My drive time to yoga is pretty carefully calculated, but this has put a spanner in my Downward Dog Dammit. No inner calm for me as I stare at the cars in front of me, bewildered!

I flip on the radio, wait for the dial to show and realize with horror, I am going to have to really hurry now as it is already 5.45 am.  Hang on,  HANG ON ….waken the brain… it’s 6.45 am!!!! SIX FORTY FIVE AM. Aaaaargh. And class, by now, is about to hit the floor after the standing series, and will soon be humming internally in Savasana. You know, the Dead Corpse Pose you revel in at the END of class. When you have BEEN to class.

All I can do is burst out laughing, knowing that Jay will just wag his tail with glee at seeing me so soon, and I will have time to grab some coffee before we hit the load shedding schedule for today.

This butt will sadly not get to do Tree, Camel, Dancer’s Pose, Tortoise or anything else remotely yoga-like today. Oh…. if only I had realized it was not my alarm. I hadn’t quite computed that I had fallen back into a deep, delicious, dribbling sleep for another hour, only to be jolted out of it by my Argentino Valentino’s alarm. I should have just continued practicing Dead Corpse Pose all along.

So I try again tomorrow – oh no wait, it’s the weekend, where alarms are not welcome. Except that I am going Hot Air Ballooning for the first time, courtesy Argentino Valentino. So at 4.00 SHARP am my feet WILL hit that floor with a little jiggy jig.

Love Kate

#LIVELIGHTLIVELARGE

When Habits are Abandoned, Dancer’s Pose is Elusive was originally published on Kate Emmerson - The Quick Shift Deva