#Alice has fun ones. large lower teeth :)

[thegreatestheaver]

I need to make a massive sketch page of every drone’s teefers. Realizing that I draw them all so differently I kinda wanna make an informative(tm) diagram

[taestefully-in-luv]

hey!! part I-6 or part III-7 :)))

Prompt: “My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

Pairing: Jimin x female reader

Genre: implied smut

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: swearing, implied smut

**Send me a prompt and a member:)**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seeing him here out of all places makes your heart feel heavy in your chest. He brought a date here, here of all places…but are you any better? Because here you are at a table next to them with your own date.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Jimin says smoothly, his thick bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he eyes you and your man for the night. “Didn’t think I would run into you here.”

You and Jimin have only been broken up for a couple of months, but god it feels like no time has passed at all.

“Who’s this?” the girl across from Jimin asks, she’s teeny tiny with short, dark hair. She looks adorable, you hate to admit.

“Just an old friend.” Jimin smiles at you knowingly. Old friend? That’s how he is going about this? “Hey y/n…” he eyes you over, your obvious discomfort making him smirk. “Why don’t we put our tables together? Make it a double date?”

You scoff, looking at him incredulously. “Jimin, you cannot be ser—”

“Oh! A double date, how fun!” the girl claps her hands together excitedly. “Let’s do it!”

Jimin stands from his chair and starts dragging his table over to connect with yours, your date for the night looks over at you, confusion filling his eyes.

“Sorry.” You mouth towards the guy and he just looks off to the side, defeated.

Jimin sits next to you, his cologne is strong, the scent hitting your nostrils in waves. You feel overwhelmed. You feel suffocated. You know Jimin and his Slytherin ass, he’s doing this on purpose.

“So what were you two talking about?” Jimin motions towards you and your date, he gives the man across from you both a sweet smile.

“Uh…” your date gets out awkwardly, “We were sort of getting to know each other.” He admits, bringing a bread stick to his mouth and taking a large bite.

“Oh! How nice,” Jimin glances at you, “I already know y/n pretty well!” He shows you a mischievous smile with all his teeth.

“You don’t know me anymore.” You grit, “You used to know me.”

“Oh really? I feel like I still know you.” He gazes at you, his eyes darkening and his voice dropping lower. “At least…my tongue still remembers the way you taste. That’s got to count for something, right?” He leans over, whispering in your ear. You drop your napkin in your lap, shock evident on your face. But should you be surprised? It’s Jimin after all.

“Anyway.” Jimin leans away from you, a bright smile plastered on his face. “Me and Alice were just talking about our favorite TV shows. Also getting to know one another, I guess you could say.” He chuckles, “y/n likes Avatar the last Airbender.”

“Ah? Really? I wasn’t a fan.” Your date says nonchalantly, “Can’t get into cartoons.”

You push your head back in disbelief, because who the fuck doesn’t like Avatar?! You’re about to speak when Jimin clicks his tongue.

“Tsk. Sounds like you two have nothing in common already.” Jimin spits out, then he smirks.

“We’ve only said like one thing Jimin.” You deadpan. “But really…” You glance at your date, “You won’t watch any cartoons? That’s like all I watch.” You chuckle awkwardly.

Your date just shrugs. Fucking shrugs.

“Jimin!” Alice whines from across the table, “don’t tell me you watch cartoons.” She starts giggling. “What are you like, 5?”

“Oh Alice, this is already not working out. And dude,” He looks at your date. “Whatever your name is, it’s not working with y/n.”

Of course this is where the night goes. Jimin being Jimin. He is here to ruin your chances of ever moving on and he doesn’t care who else is in the room, or what he has to do.

“Man, who are you?” Your date throws his half eaten breadstick on a plate. “Who is he y/n?”

“Ugh.” You groan, your hands running through your hair, “He’s my ex.”

Jimin has a straight face before he nods his head towards Alice and your date and smiles.

“That’s right.”

“Wait, wait.” Alice shakes her head, “We’re double dating with your ex-girlfriend? Isn’t that a little twisted?” she asks quietly.

“It is.” You groan, “Jimin can I talk to you? In private?”

“You two aren’t going to like fuck are you?”

“We might.” Jimin says smoothly and you roll your eyes, pulling him up by his arm and dragging him towards the bathrooms.

“What the hell Park?” you step closer to him, invading his space and all Jimin does is lick his drying lips and smirk at you.

“Came to remind me how you taste baby girl?” he breathes out and you feel yourself grow red, you feel how warm you become and you hate yourself for it. He’s your ex for a reason.

“Or maybe…” Jimin’s fingers find your jaw and tilts your head up towards him, “Or maybe you want to remember how I taste?”

“I remember just fine.” You push out between your lips.

“Do you remember how I feel?” he steps closer to you, his grip tightening on your jaw, he leads your head closer to his. “Do you remember my lips?”

You feel your chest tighten as you try to steady your breaths. Jimin has his eyes narrowed, gazing down at you and you feel yourself growing weak.

“Do you remember my fingers? My cock?” his whisper hits your lips and you feel your knees buckle.

“Do you need a reminder?” he pulls you into the men’s bathroom, his hand on yours. Then he takes your hand and leads it towards his crotch, you feel his growing length and you swallow hard.

“A reminder of what you do to me?” Jimin cups your hand to cup his growing cock. “Because if I remember anything about you baby girl, it’s that by now you are already so wet.” He leans down and hovers his lips over yours, you can feel his hot breaths and how close he is to kissing you.

“I…..I am.” You admit, your short breaths fanning across his mouth. “You said you remember how I taste?” You lean further into him, “Then remind me how that goes.”

[bonjour-rainycity]

The Siren

Requested by @lifm06: Jasper x Reader where the reader is a siren and Jasper’s supernatural mate, but she doesn’t want to hurt Alice after seeing them kiss. So she runs away and a rogue vampire turns her and Jasper finds her collapsed on the floor during the process. After waking up, she gets hungry for real food and this confuses the Cullens and they find out she only half-transformed but still gets all the same cool powers and stuff.

A/n Hey there, thanks for the request! For the purposes of this story, I messed with canon. Alice and Jasper aren’t married — he’s new to the Cullen family (like within a year or two) and is currently dating Alice, seeing if they’re a good fit. Also, I’ve vaguely set this one at a university, hope that’s alright!

Pairing: Jasper X Female Reader

Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this nor do I own anything recognizable

Word count: 2418

Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence

“And aside from your book selections, no homework over the weekend.” The professor grins conspiratorially at the rejuvenated atmosphere in the classroom. “You’re welcome. Enjoy Homecoming.”

Gathering my items, I exit the classroom quickly, hoping to make it to my car before anyone can flag me down. It’s been a long, stressful day, and I want nothing more than to go home and relax in a wonderfully hot bath.

“Hey, Y/n!” A high-pitched voice chirps from below my ear and a cold, skinny arm wraps around my elbow.

“Alice,” I beam, unable to be annoyed at one of my favorite friends.

“You’re coming tonight, right?”

I grimace, quickly searching for an excuse.

She squints, frustration etching lines into her usually-smooth face. As I decide on and then discard various reasons for my absence at the Homecoming party tonight, staticky visions fly through her mind, just hazy enough to prevent her from interpreting them.

She doesn’t know I know she’s struggling to see my future. She doesn’t know I know she has visions, or that Edward can’t read my mind, or that she and her family are vampires.

She doesn’t know that I’m not human.

My supernatural attributes are even more subtle than vampire’s. I look and act and feel and die just like a human, but something is off. Something is different. When I argue with someone, they agree with me. When I ask for a lower price, it’s given. When I sing, people have no choice but to follow, even if I were leading them to their death.

My voice holds all my power.

Although Alice and I are both not human, I haven’t convinced myself to tell her that I’m a siren and that I know she’s a vampire. I would, really, if not for one terrible, awful, life-ruining fact.

I’m in love with her boyfriend.

From the minute Jasper walked into the lecture hall, I knew he was it. I felt the call of the heart, the soul, the sea, whatever, because I felt it all. I felt it so strongly, I thought I might collapse under the force of it.

And he walked past my seat like I was nothing to him.

Crushing as that was, after some research, I began to understand it better. I come from a long line of sirens, so I have the benefit of being aware of other supernatural beings. To the Cullens though, I must appear to be nothing more than a Shield -- capable of blocking their powers, but a human still. There’s no way for Jasper to know my feelings, because we operate on different wavelengths. And because vampires live forever, they can take their time forming connections — it’s not immediate like it is for sirens.

So I resolved to be patient. Over the course of months, Jasper and I developed a close friendship, teetering on the edge of something more. It was thrilling, wonderful, and painful all at once.

And then, four months ago, my best friend Alice confided in me that she and Jasper had gotten together.

It had nearly broken me. And while I love Alice like a sister and would never interfere with her happiness, I also don’t want to put myself in a position where I might see her and Jasper together.

Hence my hesitance to attend the party tonight.

“I really do have a lot of homework—”

“Y/n please, half the school will be there,” she whines, tugging on my arm impatiently.

That’s true…half the school will be there…I can have a fun night and never have to see her and Jasper together. So without much more of a fight, I agree.

{***}

The party is loud and wild and messy and fun. I dance with friends and strangers alike, celebrating the success of our football team and the new school year. The gathering is much too big to be held indoors, so we dance in the moonlight, in a large clearing not too far into the forest. I’m never alone — someone always seeks me out. It’s an unintended side-effect of being a siren, one that, even after many years, I still don’t feel accustomed to.

One of my acquaintances, Cleo, pulls me to the side for another drink, and towards the entrance of the clearing, I see them.

Jasper, the one I am meant to be with, holds my best friend Alice tightly against him, kissing her fiercely.

Pain pierces deep in my stomach and I drop my cup, fighting back tears.

“I—I have to go.”

Cleo calls after me, but I’m already gone, running through the sea of people in the opposite direction, into the woods.

{***}

The moon is much higher in the sky when I finally stop running. Panting, I sink to the ground, not sure if I’m gasping from exertion or my sobs. When I go to wipe my eyes, I notice the blood on my arms. I must’ve run through brambles or thorn bushes, but I have no real memory of it.

The only thing I can remember is seeing my love with someone else.

“Why are you crying?”

I whip my head up, expecting to have been alone.

A few yards in front of me stands a man possessing the type of beauty only afforded to the supernatural.

And his eyes shine bright red.

Oh no.

“N-nothing,” I stutter, fear momentarily pushing the emotional pain to the side. “I was just taking a break from a party, but I should be getting back now.”

“Yes,” he murmurs, taking slow steps forward. “The revelry can be heard for miles — I will admit that I have been waiting for one to isolate themselves. The woods are dark and dangerous and when you mix in alcohol well…disappearances can be better-explained.”

I swallow at his menacing words, pushing myself up to my feet.

Before I can make any further movement, the man comes behind me, holding me in a vice-like grip. “Fear not, young one,” he purrs, stroking his nose along my neck. “I shall be quick.”

Resolve settles within me, and I remember who I am. I am a siren, and my voice is my power!

“You will not kill me,” I declare in the sweetest, most enchanting voice possible.

I feel him physically weaken at my words, but I waited too long to speak.

His teeth are already sinking into my skin.

White-hot pain, more horrible than anything I’ve ever experienced, rips through my body and, with a shriek of agony, I fall to the ground.

The vampire looks upon me with a mixture of regret and pity. “I will not kill you,” he murmurs, still caught under the force of my words.

And with that, he flees, disappearing into the night.

I don’t know how long I writhe on the ground, begging, screaming for someone to help me, to make the pain stop.

But it only spreads.

After what seems like an eternity, the pain covers my entire body, and my vision goes black.

{***}

“Y/n?”

Though the pain, an angelic voice floats to my ears.

I try to respond, to reach towards it, but all I can manage is a scream.

“Oh my God,” the angel breathes, horror apparent in his voice.

Is he in pain too?! Has the fire reached my beloved?!

I begin to panic, trying to claw through the pain to get to him.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright,” the voice soothes, pulling me into an embrace that feels like home.

He’s silent for a moment, cradling my head in his hand, and then he speaks again.

“This is the first time I’ve been able to feel what you feel…” His voice sounds breathy, dazed, and I try to open my eyes, without success.

As much as I want to stay here with him, to be cognizant of his touch, his voice, the pain is too strong, and I sink into its clutches once more.

{***}

When the pain finally recedes from my body, I open new eyes.

The world around me has changed too, it seems. Everything is sharper, clearer, louder, more intense.

And when I look down and see Jasper holding my hand, I realize that my feelings for him have intensified, too. Somehow, I love him even more than I previously thought possible.

He nods, gripping my hand tighter. “I feel it too.”

“Y/n.” A soft voice to my right requests my attention, and I reluctantly turn my gaze from my beloved’s topaz eyes to greet those of Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He offers me a hesitant smile, clearly trying to make himself seem non-threatening. “I’m glad to see you awake and out of pain. How are you feeling?”

I shrug, at a loss for how to describe it all. I still feel like me, yes, but I feel….more. I feel the input of heightened senses and the resilient nature of my new body. “Different,” I decide, knowing that word will have to do it for now. “Where am I?”

“At our home,” a voice answers from behind me, and I jump off the bed, having previously been unaware of this third guest.

Edward Cullen stands there, hands raised in the universal show of surrender. “I’m sorry, I should’ve made my presence known. You can relax now, no harm will come to you here.”

It’s then that I notice that, in the mere span of half a second, I have thrown myself from the bed and into a defensive position, baring my teeth.

It’s Edward, I remind myself. You know him, he’s nice. Calm down.

I force myself to relax. 

An intrigued look crosses his face. “I’d never been able to read your mind before today. I guess that’s an effect of the transformation.”

Transformation…meaning…

“I’m a vampire,” I realize, hands flying to my too-smooth skin.

“Yes,” Jasper breathes, placing a light hand on my arm. “I found you in the woods a few days ago, I’m sorry…I couldn’t stop it.”

He turns to face me then, regret plain in his features. I shake my head, wanting badly to stop his sadness. “No, it’s okay, I…well the pain wasn’t ideal, but that’s done now. I do wonder how this will fit with my other abilities, though…”

Carlisle furrows a curious eyebrow. “Your other abilities?”

“You’re a siren,” Edward gasps, pulling the thought from my head. “Or at least, you were…we’ll have to get Alice, see if she can see anything of your future. That might help us figure some things out.”

Alice. I glance to Jasper at my side, then quickly look away. I shouldn’t be this close to him. “Where is Alice?” Surely she would want to be here, as my best friend?

Edward shakes his head slowly, looking conflicted. “She wanted to be here, but she needed some time to herself. She—” he clears his throat, looking to Jasper for help.

Jasper squeezes my hand in his, prompting me to look at him. “When you changed, so did my future. It shifted and, well, didn’t include her in the way it might’ve before.”

Oh.

Oh!

Oh wow, I feel awful.

“Don’t,” Edward and Jasper protest at the same time.

“She’ll be alright,” Carlisle confirms, offering me an encouraging smile. “She has a world of other possibilities open to her, and she knows it. She’ll be back in a few weeks at most. And until then, we need to teach you how to be a vampire.”

I smile weakly, a twinge of discomfort in my stomach making itself known. “Can it wait until after dinner? I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”

“Of course,” Carlisle nods, indicating to the nearby window. “If you follow us to the forest, we will teach you how to hunt.”

“Um—” I hesitate. “Won’t that take a while? I can smell the meat in the fridge now, could we just make that and go hunting tomorrow?”

I’m met with three sets of hopelessly confused eyes.

“You…want human food?” Jasper tilts his head, uncomprehending.

I stare at him, equally questioning. “Yes? Oh—” Realization hits me. “I should want blood, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” Carlisle nods, studying me closely. “You say you are a siren? Perhaps that stopped the full transformation from taking effect somehow.”

Worry pools within me. Am I not a proper vampire?

Edward shakes his head, knowing my thoughts. “No, you seem to be like us on the surface — you just don’t have the desire for blood. We should explore more in-depth though. For example, what of your lifespan? Will it be indefinite, or limited to the constraints of a human or a siren? Are you as strong as us, or are you holding on to human traits that make you weaker?”

Jasper senses my rising anxiety and places a hand on my shoulder. “There is certainly a lot to discuss, but we should do it after you eat.”

We go downstairs and Esme, one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, welcomes me with open arms and does her best to prepare the food she has on hand. I help a little, having been mortal the most recently.

After dinner, I meet the rest of the family, and they all join us outside for tests of my new abilities.

{***}

Nearly two days later, we’ve determined that I am a vampire.

Just not all the way.

It seems the siren in me stopped the full transformation from taking place, and I occupy a sort of half-state.

I am fast and strong, though not as much as my full-vampire counterparts. My senses are better than a human’s and almost as good as a vampire’s. My skin is just as hard and cold as a vampire’s. My eyes are currently red, though Carlisle thinks they will turn back to my usual color once my human blood fades from my system, providing I abstain from blood of any sort.

Perhaps the most interesting, is that my voice, already strong before my transformation, has only grown in power. I can bring Emmett—one of the strongest vampires we know of—to the ground with just a few words. It’s all very interesting.

The only matter we have yet to resolve is my life-span.

None of us know how long I will live.

My emotions tell Jasper where my thoughts lie. “We’ll figure it out,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I sigh, leaning back against his chest and enjoying his embrace. Because whatever time I have with him, I intend to soak it up for all it’s worth.

A/n Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, check out my masterlist :)

[since0202]

Chapter 3

Grace had stacked as many advanced classes to her course load as she could. Mostly, she did it to make it up to her mom and show her she could be the studious kid she once knew. 

Bella had gotten Grace settled into her AP European History course and moved off to English, Edward’s hand on her lower back. He had given me a good morning and a smile and then stayed in contemplative silence as Bella gave her the low down about navigating Forks High. 

Bella seemed incredibly comfortable in her new home of Forks even though she had only attended this school a couple months longer than Grace. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Edward was always by her side, a clear guiding rod through the chaos of high school. Grace suddenly felt cold. 

After the bell rang, Grace gathered her things methodically and headed to the door. Bella turned the corner, Edward in tow beside her, when she looked over. Grace gave a small wave and Bella smiled back. They looped arms and Bella tugged her along down the hall. 

“What’s next?” Bella asked, bumping her with her shoulder. 

“AP Chem.” Grace said matter of factly without having to pull her schedule from her pocket. “With Edward, if I’m not mistaken,” she peered around Bella and met Edwards cool gaze. 

“Indeed. With Mr. Hurmshore.” He smiled down at Bella and carried the smile to Grace. It was starting to look a little more natural. 

Grace took this as a good sign and when Bella stopped her at the door for AP Chem. 

“Okay, you two. Have fun,” she tripped over the word ‘fun’ and her mouth pulled up on side as she stifled a laugh. Grace rolled her eyes and turned into the classroom, leaving Edward and Bella to say their lovey goodbye. 

She handed the teacher her slip and was guided to an empty lab table. When Edward walked in the room, he bee lined it for her. Grace raised her eyebrows in surprise--she didn’t expect him to willingly take a seat next to her given her cool reception these past couple of months. He pulled out a notebook and flipped to an open page lazily and turned his head to meet her eyes. 

“Here we go.” he smiled. 

Grace was surprised how quickly the class passed by. She was invested in the lesson, but tried to make small talk with Edward. She loved Bella and knew Edward was a significant part of her life. She wanted to know that part too. Her small talk seemed to be working. Edward was carrying on polite conversation with her and never tried to look away or grimace or pull his lips back over his teeth unconsciously. 

They talked about Oklahoma and her friends there, how she was liking Forks so far, and what she thought of sharing a room with Bella. 

“She’s a pretty deep sleeper,” Grace laughed. “She talks in her sleep, too. It’s kind of great.” 

Edward smiled and jotted down a reaction from their lab experiment nodding his head, “I’ve heard that, actually.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, she told me one time that it woke her mother up when they were on a road trip together. Scared her half to death.” 

“Oh,” Grace let out a chuckle, “Makes sense.” 

By the time they exited the class together, they were laughing at a shared joke. Bella was elated as they walked to lunch together at their new found friendship. 

Bella introduced her to her group of friends—Angela, Ben, Jessica, Mike—and they fell into step. Grace always had an effortless ability to mesh well in a group. Her broad, bright smile, and warm welcoming demeanor always drew people in. She was able to read faces and body language in a way that allowed her to lean into their likes and avoid their dislikes. By the end of lunch, her and Angela Weber had exchanged numbers to talk at length about a book they were both reading and Jessica was trying to recruit her for the volleyball team. 

-----

The morning of Bella’s birthday was extraordinarily foggy. Grace couldn’t sleep and sat in the early morning hours on her bed looking out the large bay window waiting for the sun to rise. She picked at the bracelet that lay on her wrist, a constant comfort for her. 

When Bella finally stirred at quarter past seven, Grace bounded over to her bed and bounced over top of her. “Happy BIRTHDAY!” she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air and shimmying her upper body. “You’re eighteen, you’re eighteen, you’re eighteen today, hey hey hey!” she lilted in no particular tune. 

Bella grinned and turned her head back into her pillow. “Okay okay okay. Thank yooou. It’s my birthday, thank you.” 

“Wow, eighteen. You don’t look a day older than seventeen.” Grace laughed and paused for the bad joke to sink in. 

“Ha ha.” Bella pushed herself up, sending Grace toppling into the space next to her. 

“Hey! Watch it. That’s not how you treat someone who has a birthday gift for you.” 

“Oh no, you didn’t. Grace! I told you, no-”

“No gifts. Yeah yeah, I got it. No one cares and I guarantee everyone got you a gift.” Grace smiled unapologetically at Bella, “Get over it, dude.��

Bella’s mouth hung open, speechless. 

“Anyway,” Grace rolled her eyes and dipped a hand under Bella’s bed to produce a small wrapped square. 

“You hid it under my bed?” 

“Work smarter, they always say,” Grace shrugged. 

Bella took the gift with a genuine smile and gently pulled the paper away to reveal a warm auburn colored leather journal that was stamped with the landscape of a mossy covered cliff face and dotted beach along the Washington coast. It looked not unlike La Push beach. 

“This is great. Thanks Gracie. I was actually hoping for something like this.” Bella flipped through the hand cut pages and gave Grace a reassuring look. 

Just then a knock sounded on the door and Charlie pushed it open with more gifts in his hands. 

“Haaaappy birthday,” he said gently. 

“Told yah,” Grace said. 

----------

Bella was a resistant birthday girl, but went along with the wants of others nonetheless. Alice had invited Bella to the Cullen home that night for a birthday dinner after handing her a perfectly wrapped green and black velvet gift. Grace had been back at her locker grabbing a few things, but Bella had told her afterwards. 

“Is that okay? I know you and Charlie wanted to take me to the diner.” Bella looked at Grace almost with a pleading look. 

“Of course! We’ll do it Friday night instead. No big.” Grace hadn’t had much interaction with most of the Cullens. They had kept their distance from her even though her and Edward were becoming fast friends. 

Grace hadn’t really thought much of it, but it felt like a clear line was being drawn. Maybe she was reading too much into it. 

As Bella waved from the passenger side of Edward’s car in her green dress before heading off to the Cullen’s for her party, Grace couldn’t help but feel a sinking weight settle in her. She shook her head to try and clear the feeling and plopped herself on the couch next to Charlie. She pulled a tangle of threads before her and set to the meticulous task of practicing the intricate braiding she once knew as a child.

 The TV hummed in front of her and she tucked her feet under her grey baggy sweatpants, pushing loose strands of hair away from her face that had fallen from her low hanging ponytail. She readjusted the green flannel button up and brushed some loose crumbs from her black tank top. Charlie’s hand loosely grasped a beer hanging of the side of his recliner. Every now and then Grace glanced up at the gentle glow of the TV. The quiet that hung between her and Charlie was calming. It made sense then that she didn’t realize when she had fallen asleep and woke to the click of the front door. 

Charlie’s snores emanated softly from his recliner. 

“Bells?” Grace whispered leaning up to look over the back of the couch toward the front door. 

Bella either didn’t hear her or chose not to answer her as she climbed the stairs toward their room. When Grace picked herself up off the couch and reached the bottom of the steps, she saw light filtering under the closed bathroom door at the top of the landing. Grace quietly climbed the stairs and let a gentle knock on the bathroom door. 

“Bella? You okay?” 

“Yeah, fine. Just getting changed” Bella’s small voice was almost covered by the sound of running tap water. 

“Okay.” Grace looked at the door with worry and went to climb into bed. She was dozing off by the time Bella made her way into the room--she tiptoed in and tried to make as little noise as possible, hoping not to wake Grace most likely and talk about the evening. 

The next day was worse. 

Grace donned her raincoat and shuffled out the door, only to be confronted by Bella standing on the steps looking out at the street. 

“You okay? Where’s Edward?” Usually Edward would pick up Bella and Grace would take the truck in. Sometimes they all rode together, but Grace appreciated the time alone to think in the truck on her way to school. 

“I’m not sure.” Bella’s voice was dull and her eyes searched the street. 

“Come on, let’s get in the truck, it’s cold.” Grace ushered Bella into the truck and looked down the street one last time before climbing in the driverside. 

“Did something happen last night?” Grace asked as she turned on the engine and brought her mittened hands to her face to warm up. Bella was staring out the windshield, her eyes far away for a moment. 

“N-no. I mean, I cut myself cutting the cake last night” Bella touched her upper arm gingerly and trailed off. “Let’s go, it’s fine.” She said with more resolve. Grace nodded and they glided off down the rain slicked roads that were threatening to turn to ice. 

The school day filled Grace with worry. Mostly because in between classes, Bella drifted further and further away from herself. The far away look in her eyes deepened and it seemed like she was shuttering. Grace was able to pull her from her reveries momentarily each time but she could see a small panic rising in Bella. 

When they got home, Edward was waiting on the lawn, his hands shoved in his pockets and head down. He seemed to be wearing the same outfit as the night before. Grace looked over to Bella who was frozen in place for a moment. She gave Bella a look. 

“It’s okay, I’m going to go talk to him. Don’t wait up.” Bella pushed out of the truck and Grace waited while she crossed the lawn to him, stopping a little short. Edward made eye contact with Grace, a look of confirmation or acknowledgement, before nodding toward the forest. Grace could clearly make out the word “walk” from his lips. Bella nodded, looked over her shoulder at Grace and gave a weak smile before traipsing into the woods after Edward. 

Grace started for a second, she almost followed them. The pit in her stomach grew again and she had to catch her breath. She wanted to call out ‘Wait!’ but the sound never came. She sat in the truck, cold, eyes focused on the darkened space where they had disappeared through the trees until her teeth chattered so hard she had to retreat into the house. 

Her stomach flipped as she closed the door and fell back against it. 

As night drew in, Grace paced the living room floor, raincoat still on, waiting. How long would she wait to go after her? There was no way they could still be in the woods, it had started raining, sleeting almost. They’d be freezing. But Bella would have come back home if they had finished talking. 

Anxiety raced through Grace. Then, she heard Charlie’s cruiser pull up the drive and she stopped pacing for a moment. She tried to calm her body, but when Charlie crossed the threshold, he took one look at her face and the worry was clear. 

“What’s wrong?” He looked alarmed around the room. “Where’s Bella?” 

Of course he knew. 

-----

Grace was sitting on the porch with her head in her hands as the collection of volunteers rushed around the lawn. Harry Clearwater was the first to arrive, assuring Charlie that he’d sent a local party out into the woods to begin looking for Bella. Charlie had grilled Grace about which way Bella had left into the woods and confirmed at least ten times that it was Edward she left with. 

After she had confirmed loudly for the tenth time, Charlie had made a small involuntary noise. 

Now, as rain misted Grace’s hair and the crackle of the police radio echoed across the front lawn, she was kicking herself for not going after her. For not stopping her when she felt that feeling in her stomach. This night couldn’t get any worse. 

“We’re going to find her Charlie.” Billy Black’s voice reached too close. Her head shot up and she stood too quickly, blood rushing quickly from her head. She wobbled slightly on the step which caught Billy’s eye and he nodded, a stern almost unforgiving look on his face. Jacob stood close by. “You said you saw her go into the woods last, for sure?” Billy confirmed. 

“Grace did, she said he was there after they got back from school and Bella left with him through that small path clearing.” Charlie’s head was bent over the map of the woods. Grace tried to take a step down, but stumbled, her head still swimming. She couldn’t feel the bottoms of her feet. 

“Jake. Stay with her will you?” Billy nodded his head toward Grace and Jacob jogged the short distance across the lawn to meet her. She cleared the bottom step just as he came up on her and stood next to her. 

“Are you okay?” Jake asked. 

“Yeah, sorry just woozy.” 

“K, well stay next to me. I don’t want to get in trouble when you fall and smack your head on the pavement.” He grinned and placed his hand under her elbow guiding her over to sit in the bed of the truck. He wrapped his arm around her waist and gently hoisted her up onto the lowered truck bed door. She didn’t protest, but was surprised when he hopped up next to her and pulled her raincoat hood gently up over her head. 

“Thanks.” Grace said weakly. 

“No problem.” he breathed out looking around. “How long has she been gone for?” he asked nonchalantly, as if Bella was just off running an errand. 

“A solid 8 hours. She left immediately after we got home from school,” Grace recited as she clutched the side of the truck. 

“That dude she’s dating kind of creeps me out. He doesn’t seem right,” Grace tilted her head to look at him and he quickly corrected himself saying, “For her I mean. Like he just doesn’t seem like her type.”

“Oh?” Grace raised an eyebrow, a little annoyed. “And who is her type?” 

Jake moved a little uneasy. His long dark hair swayed in front of his face, a curtain separating them. She had the undeniable urge to reach out and run her fingers through it. She could smell that familiar warm wood smell emanating from him that she for so long associated with home. 

She didn’t realize how long she had been staring, zoning out and not quite hearing Jake’s explanation of exactly who Bella’s type was until he looked over at her, 

“What are you staring at?” He said a little taken off guard. 

“Oh, sorry. Nothing, just lost in thought. I’m having trouble staying here with all this going on. What were you saying?” Grace tried to regain some normalcy in her movements and keep her eyes focused on the ground, her hands, anything to keep from staring at Jacob Black any longer. She heard him chuckle just then and turned to look at him. How calming and odd it was that Jacob, during this insane moment of chaos, could be so at ease, asking questions, so sure that nothing could be wrong or at the very least give off the vibe that nothing was wrong. 

“What?” Grace asked. 

“It reminds me of that time when we were little and my mom took us to that children’s center right off the rez. You somehow snuck away when she was checking us in. You were supposed to be holding my hand, but you got distracted, got this far away look in your eye and wandered off. When they found you down by that small creek behind the center, you said you had trouble staying put.” He laughed a little. “Do you remember that?” 

Familiar warmth rushed through Grace. While she didn’t remember that moment, she remembered that feeling. Letting go of his hand and slipping away. 

“My mom was so mad,” Grace shook her head smiling. “Why’d you let me let go of you?” 

Jake sighed, “I don’t know,” he stated simply. “Lesson learned.” he bumped his shoulder against hers and Grace let out a sigh of relief. All of the tension had left her body during their conversation. 

“Charlie!” A call came from the south side of the trees on the opposite edge of where Bella had disappeared through. Grace and Jake’s heads snapped around and they hurried over  behind Charlie who was hustling toward Sam Uley. 

“She’s alright,” Sam declared, holding a lifeless looking Bella in his arms. Charlie immediately went to grab her from him. 

Grace left out a soft whimper of relief and her left hand moved of its own accord to grip Jacob’s forearm and steady herself. 

“She’s alright,” Jake said quietly and pulled her in into a tight hug. Grace nodded her head in his chest, gripping onto his shoulders, tears stinging her eyes. 

She’s alright. 

[elenamegan14]

Twisted Wonderland: Headcanons for Dorm Haunted Houses Pt.3 - Heartsyabul

MASTERLIST

Part 2

(Play at 0.75 speed for full effect)

THE ATTRACTION:

Heartsyabul’s theme is a creepy Wonderland Garden. 

Guests and students alike first entered an abandoned greenhouse, filled with decaying flowers, bloodied pitchforks and traces of shattered pocket watches and pastries can be seen. The guests are led deeper into the greenhouse, where the plants become creepier: living flowers with faces on them that moans and groans, dreadful man-eating plants, snapping venus flytraps that almost bites at unsuspecting guests and students, doll’s eyes plants, dracula orchids, ghost plants, poisonous fungus that exhumes putrid pollens and corrosive giant pitcher plants. 

Guests are unnerved by “victims” of the plants itself: one “victim” is dying when half of their bodies are melted off by the acids, another one begged for their lives at the jaws of venus flytraps… and some had become hybrid fungus zombies that jumped out and scare people along the way. 

After escaping the treacherous greenhouse, the guests have arrived at the-

Rose maze. Twisted rose maze. Also, it’s foggy as well. Remember that time when Riddle Overblot and the rose maze garden just turn dark, spooky and roses are sort of dead? Well then- imagine that atmosphere elevated UP TO ELEVEN. 

I’m talking about thorny vines, dead roses dipped in red-blood paint, endless hedges filled with it. Oh, and there are random heads everywhere - WHY ARE THERE RANDOM HEADS EVERYWHERE???

If it’s not on the tea party table, then it’s mounted on a pike. It looked realistic too, so guests and students are really unnerved when they enter. 

The centerpiece of their garden labyrinth is a floating garden that served as the execution site, where the “Red Queen” gleefully declared everyone unfortunate to come across him as permanently EXECUTED. It was surrounded by a moat, a top of crimson waters filled with heads and headless bodies.

It’s like the Disney version of American McGee’s Alice. 

Trey is, of course, the host. He dressed like a Mad Hatter, all dapper with a playing card motif and BLOODIED. 

He’s waiting for guests and students alike at the first part of the maze - a botanical tea party filled with card attendants. 

He encouraged the students to eat and drink his specially made treats. Strawberry tarts so red like blood, suspiciously red tea, an assortment of petit fours and macarons between blood-stained teapots…

Why do they have boxed presents at the tea party? Hey, look, we can actually pick it up and see what’s underneath it! Oh, what a cute teapot! Oooh! A dormouse plush! Oooh! This one’s a-

“BOO!” A Cater head cackled like a maniac when a present is lifted, eliciting screams everywhere from students and guests alike. 

Cater uses his clones to do the job of terrifying the guests and students alike. 

He carefully arranged his clones to position themselves where their bodies are hidden, either using optical illusion, under the bush or even sometimes using invisibility magic, so that only his “heads” are moving. 

Cater is having a blast at taking horrified pictures of guests and students alike. People considered it an honor to enter Cater’s official “Scream-of-Fame” page on his MagiGram. His favorites so far are either Grimm or Ace - they have the best reactions out of all the students entering the haunted house. 

Riddle’s costume is elegantly terrifying. It seems that his Overblot form gives him ideas because his costume as the “Red Queen '' is regal, with spider-like motifs, tattered fabrics, and plenty of playing card references. His crown is also drenched with red paint, his makeup is adorned with black, red, and gold paints and black tears falling from it. According to the lore that the dorm had set for their haunted house, the “Red Queen” shed tears of sorrow after his subjects failed to show up, vowing to take revenge on them all.  

Oh, and yes, he does have a shiny, large, ax that he was ready to “hack” people to pieces with. 

NO ONE ESCAPES FROM RIDDLE. Either they’re too scared to run or they’re begging for their prefect to come to his senses and spare them. Riddle punished the students for trying to break his character.

THE MISSION: 

The host grimly told the students that the “Red Queen” is on a rampage because EVERYONE IS LATE FOR THE UNBIRTHDAY TEA PARTY (this opened up the traumatic wounds in Ace’s memory), and he’s currently in the maze looking for someone to behead. Their first mission is to find a key inside one of the teapots or presents by lifting them one by one. After the key is found, they need to find a way out of the maze to retrieve the charm on the dead center of the execution/trial ground. 

Oh, and one more thing: SCREAMING WILL ONLY SUMMON THE RED QUEEN’S CARD EXECUTIONERS OR THE RED QUEEN HIMSELF TO YOUR LOCATION. They’re dead serious. 

Okay, now the fun starts. 

It seems that while the jumpscares remained the same, the second and third years on Heartsyabul’s haunted house staff took this as a chance to TORMENT the first years. 

They touched, breathed, and even chased them all around the garden house. Already several people are running away back to the exit or pissing themselves. 

Because MC is an easy target for them, one of the fungus zombies takes the opportunity to skim his hands across MC’s waist, even lower-

Jack kicked the poor guy in the balls, Deuce makes a mental note to report to Riddle for inappropriate misconduct. 

During their excursion on the maze, Deuce had commented how realistic looking these heads are.

Someone suspiciously approached a realistic-looking head… when it suddenly blinks. Cater gave a mouthful of a bloodied grin at Ace.

“Found… A BODY!”

Cue skyward scream. 

As expected, Riddle appeared out of nowhere, sporting a bloody grin, horrifying every student in the vicinity. “FULFILL YOUR PROMISE, TRAPPOLA! SPADE!” He cackled as he chased after the poor group, swinging his ax like a madman, with Ace frantically promising to Riddle that yes, he will behave and follow all the rules for the next two weeks of his life. 

As promised, Ace and Deuce screamed the most, thus adding more scream points. 

Of course, there was a parade of endless living “heads” on every hedge, either a clone of Cater or student actors, laughing and scaring every student and guests that came nearby. Be it on the pike, disguised as a flower, or even jumping out from behind the rose bush walls. 

Ace had to jump onto Deuce like Scooby Doo and Shaggy - poor Deuce is carrying the shivering Ace all around the maze. 

On top of that, the monsters and the “living heads” had continued to draw shrieks from the students and guests at inopportune times, that it also “summoned” Riddle or the actors dressed as Card Executioners straight to them. 

Epel almost smashes a Cater head with a giant teapot nearby in surprise when he lifts one the boxed presents. It took nearly the effort of MC, Deuce, Ace, and Jack to stop the farm boy from committing homicide. 

It’s a good thing too because this Cater head holds the key in his teeth. 

MC tried to take it, but their hands got licked by the Carter head (almost sensually too)  that they dropped the key back to its maw. 

Deuce got his fingers bitten by the Cater head. MC’s group simultaneously closed Deuce’s mouth to keep him from screaming and drawing Riddle’s attention. 

“Now, now, Prefect Riddle must say that either one of you have to scream-” Cater chided playfully.

“CAN YOU NOT?!”

Jack finally got the key after forcefully prying it from Cater’s mouth. 

MC found poor Grimm hiding behind a card soldier prop. “Still thinking of going through this alone?” Nope, Grimm had enough of being “a lonely brave magician”. HE’LL GO WITH MC’S GROUP, WHEREVER THEY GO. Thus, one more party had been added. 

Ah, yes, and to get the charm, they have to get across a red-blood moat towards the floating garden full of heads and “dead” bodies. On which “headless zombies” could spring out unannounced to drag you underwater. Good times. 

Once they finally reached the center of the floating garden, they saw the charm locked inside a locked heart-shaped box. All that they need to do is use the key to get the first charm.

Do you think this is over? Riddle suddenly appears out of nowhere, carrying a bloodied ax and swung it at the unsuspecting MC who dodged it just in time, screaming “OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!” in bloody murder. 

Grimm swore he really DOES nearly lose his head (and half of his body. And his soul.). 

“PREFECT RIDDLE, PLEASE BE REASONABLE!” Deuce begged for his life(?) as Riddle continually hacked away at the group. 

MC’s group ran all the way to the exit and closed the gate just as Riddle’s insane laughter echoed behind them. Even though it was acting, the panting group noted that this version of Riddle is just as traumatizing as the one as when he was Overblotted. In their ten-minute break, Ace and Deuce could not stop shuddering. 

Now that MC’s group has got the first charm, the majority of students that took on this challenge plotted ways to forcefully reclaimed it...

Having finally recuperated from Heartsyabul’s haunted dorm ordeal, they slowly marched into their next destination… Savannaclaw.

TO BE CONTINUED

BONUS:

As per Azul’s request, all dorms are also tasked to sell their own haunted house merchandise (for Crowley’s charity purposes!). It’s selling like hotcakes - although not as fast-selling as Octanivelle’s. 

Aside from T-Shirts, Stickers, and keychains, their fast-selling items are Trey’s rose-shaped sugar cookies and cupcakes.

Part 4

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - A new pact

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 3 | Part 4 A new pact | Part 5 >

Disclaimer: some strong language

Author’s note: Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me? Enjoy another tooth achingly sweet fluff chapter my dear readers ❤️

Word count: 1.557

(Link to my Masterlist)

[ Alice.in.writing.land ]

Dear readers,

I’m pleased to inform you that I have passed the princess approval test. Teeth were brushed, laughter was about and she even made friends with a furry companion the size of an adult bear. All and all it was a lovely, sunny Sunday and I can’t wait to bring her along on my adventures of today, which will include.. sheep herding!

Now you may wonder why a news reporter would go sheep herding, but did you know that Jersey used to have its own, very unique Jersey sheep? Through some unfortunate neglect and misunderstanding these sheep went extinct and now their four or six-horned heads no longer graze about. But! As per usual, we humans found out a century or so later, that these sheep and their many horns were a blessing to keep the nature on the island healthy, and thus they were re-introduced. Albeit this time in the shape of a fewer horned, more human friendly Manx Loaghtan herd, whom we’ll be meeting today.

I cannot wait to see if my fellow Alice has a knack for befriending other furry creatures as well, so keep your horns and fingers crossed - we’re going on an adventure!

Ali

The jeep tumbled and shook as it drove over the bumpy country road, the habited world slowly coming back into view. A welcome view too, because we had a fun, but also truly exhausting day. Little Alice had drifted into a slumber, her small body leaning heavily into my chest as she clambered onto a pair of fresh wool socks she had received as her gift.

I could only imagine what she’d be dreaming of right now. Probably, it involved lots of chasing of and cuddling with sheep. I yawned and watched with blinking eyes as Maddie and Frank’s house finally came into view, the afternoon late when we finally arrived.

‘Thanks Jonny.’ I smiled at the friendly bearded man behind the steering wheel.

‘Sure thing Ali. It was fun having you two…’ He hesitated, seeing the toddler as she was still far away in dreamland. ‘..You know what. Let me help you out with that.’ He winked, quickly swinging open his door and moving to the other side of the jeep. I sighed a quiet thanks as he pulled open the door, effortlessly scooping up the small girl from my arms.

‘Up you go! Hello little Alice. Looks like you’re home!’ He cheered, putting the sleep muddled toddler on her legs. I slipped out of my seat and thanked him again, my arms swiftly lifting Alice back on my hip before she’d fall right asleep on the sidewalk.

‘Well have a good one! Looking forward to the article.’ Jonny said, brushing some of the toddler’s hair out of her face. A sweet gesture.

‘I’ll make sure to send you a copy. Good night Jonny.’ I waved him off and turned around, my eyes catching some movement a little distance away, at the opposite side of the street.

And not just any movement. It was a dumbstruck, frozen-in-place, Henry, his large blue eyes blinking at me. He was clearly confused, his eyes briefly slipping away from me to look at the truck as it drove off into the distance.

‘Hey!’ I waved, a bit unsure of what to do. I could only figure what he was thinking right now; a man, a kid?! That’s not really quite the image you had sketched the other day. Biting my bottom lip I quickly crossed the street, walking up to him, tired toddler snugly held onto my chest.

Henry remained quiet as his eyes now moved to the girl in my arms, her bright blue eyes giving him a studious glare.

‘Hey..’ I repeated, trying to grasp his attention, my smile a tad awkward as I pulled up the toddler a bit higher on my hip - she sure was getting heavy!

‘Hi.’ He swallowed, quickly hiding something behind his back.

‘You probably wonder what the heck is going on.’ I bit my lip, looking down at Alice, his response a mere nod of the head. ‘..Maddie, my friend, had to rush to the mainland to help out her mom, so I offered to help out and watch over her little princess.’

Alice looked up at me, her eyes sparkling with passion. ‘I’m no princess!’ She muttered. ‘I’m a sheep herder!’

Henry’s pensive face broke into a tender smile, watching the little girl as she snuggled back into my chest. ‘I see.’ He let out a quiet sigh. ‘Sorry..I didn’t mean to..bother you..I was just..-’

‘In the neighbourhood?’ I laughed, nodding at the house. ‘Come inside. I need to put this sheep herder down before I break my back.’

—

‘Alright. The sheep herding princess is..asleep!’ I cheered, plopping down on the couch next to Henry, our bellies filled with food and the evening young.

‘Good. I eh..wanted to show you something by the way...Here.’ Henry said, offering me a piece of paper, our fingertips touching as I took it from him, my nose immediately scrunching up when I noticed what it was.

The pact.

‘Oh. My. Word.’ I started laughing aloud, studying the hand drafted “contract”, both our names and signatures neatly placed at the bottom. ‘How old is this even?’ I gasped. ‘Pff..well..we were what..thirteen? Something like that? I just started senior school.’ ‘Dearness me. Oh, I actually saw your mom yesterday and she was being particularly vague; “You would never guess what Henry asked of me yesterday” she said, and then she added that you’d probably wish to show it yourself… Very..very mysterious.’

‘Well, I’m a mysterious man.’ Henry winked at me, reaching out for his glass of red wine and finishing the last sip.  

‘Hardly.’ I retorted, smiling. I watched him for a moment as he sat back in the soft couch, his large frame sporting a tight and comfy cable knit sweater. He looked so huggable. Ugh! What a teddybear of a man he was.

He raised a careful eyebrow, testing me. ‘Well, dear Ali, do indulge me.’  

‘You work crazy hard and live a crazy A-lister lifestyle. But all you really want..’ I pointed at the contract. ‘..is rainbow coloured dreams. And..’ I pointed at his finished glass of red wine, shrugging.  ‘..perhaps another glass of red wine.’

Our eyes met, our lips curled into masks of friendshiply banter, but the underlying tone clear. We had been sweethearts before. Many times actually, our paths having crossed in every stage throughout our lives. Sometimes just being tight knit friends. Sometimes more. Could we do it again?

‘I didn’t bring a rainbow coloured pen this time, though.’ Henry said, gesturing me to look at a paper that was hidden beneath the initial contract. I furrowed my brow and turned over the paper, finding a new contract.

A..a real marriage contract.

I blinked, studying the document, then looked over at Henry, my face stricken with confusion.

He smiled sweetly, reaching out his fingertips to caress my hand, the pads of his fingers callus and warm. ‘I know your previous lovers had some..commitment issues. So.’ He shrugged casually. ‘I just thought it better to show you I’m not one of them.’

‘Wh..’ My voice croaked, my throat suddenly very dry and my heart buzzing like a humming bird. ‘W-what?’

HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT!!

‘Well, we pinky swore, remember?’ He chuckled. ‘And..of course I’ll let you off if you do not want to give me a shot. But..’ He sighed, smiling. ‘..it sure is funny how we keep running back into one another, right?’

I finally managed to get some of my breath back, the contracts now lowered on my lap, my eyes studying him, face serious.

‘Really? Is this a joke Henry? Tell me this is a joke.’

‘Do I look like I’m joking?’ He asked, looking indeed quite..serious. I swallowed and put the papers on the table, right in between our wine glasses, the air so very thick in my lungs.

‘Hmm..’ I licked my lips, curious and slightly unsure eyes looking back at Henry. ‘I don’t really believe in fairytales Hen.’ I shook my head, my mind reeling. 

‘You don’t have to. I’m being real Ali. I am.’

‘A contract doesn’t suddenly make a relationship work, Hen. You should know that better than anyone.’ I shook my head, wanting all of this to make sense. Why me? Why now? Why here? Why, why, why?!

‘I’m not asking you to sign it. I’m just showing you the commitment you seek. I want it Ali, I do.’

My heart was near jumping out of my chest as his words floated through the quiet living room, an open fire crackling somewhere in the background. I blinked again, still quite dumbstruck.

This was going way too fast. When I had said that the clock was ticking I didn’t mean; come make babies with me right this instant. Right? Right?! The past few years our only contact had been through over seas phone calls and Whatsapp messages. Heck. We hadn’t even kissed since we reacquainted two days ago and sleeping together? I think we hadn’t done that in..what? Ten years? 

My eyes moved over him, his body folded into the corner of the couch, large chest leaning forward, eyes hopeful. He was obviously trying to keep a friendly distance, though the wish to move closer was clear. Move closer to..to…You sighed, eyes now moving towards his lips. Those sweet, full cupid bowed lips.

‘You better kiss me real good, Cavill.’ You whispered, looking back up into his eyes.

It was an invitation he didn’t need to be given twice.

--

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[dorkylittleweirdo]

the smut i regrettably promised

Five let out a groan as Simon told them yet another shitty pickup line. He was infuriating. Insufferable. Intoxicating. Without meaning to, they felt their playful glare soften as their eyes flitted down to his lips before darting back up. They silently hoped that Simon hadn’t noticed, but that would’ve been too much to ask.

Simon smirked, quirking a brow at them. “See something you like?” He teased, earning an eye roll from the other runner.

“You wish,” they snorted, the corners of their mouth tugging into a smile. If they were being honest with themselves, they did. But they would never say it. Five was never quite sure of what drew them to Simon, but it hardly mattered anymore.

“You’re gonna hurt my feelings one of these days,” he warned. He was only half joking, looking at them with a curious shimmer in his eyes. Simon still hadn’t quite figured them out. No matter how much he found out about them, each answer always seemed to bring more questions. He knew they were reckless, with a lack of self-preservation that rivaled his own. But he never knew why.

“And it’ll be your own fault for walking into it,” Five retorted, earning a laugh from Simon. He really was beautiful, much to their dismay. The way his hair fell, perfectly framing his face, his slightly chapped lips that they’d love to have pressed against their own. They hadn’t even realized they were staring until Simon spoke again.

“Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer.” That damn smirk of his never left his face.

“Shut up,” Five chuckled, shaking their head as they rolled their eyes.

“Make me.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. They gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him in, angling their head so they could smash their lips against his. Five wasn’t sure how they were supposed to play this off as a joke; they couldn’t play off something as real as this was. But they weren't ready for that conversation. They kept kissing him.

Their mouth was hot against his, and Simon gladly swallowed the desperation and passion they poured into his mouth. He barely registered what was happening, but suddenly his hands were on their hips, his body pressed against theirs, their chest against his. If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up.

Five let go of his shirt, wrapping their arms around his neck. His body against theirs like this was euphoric, and they were glad this area was so secluded. They let out a muffled sound as Simon backed them into the wall, their body sandwiched between him and the cool wall.

"Five," their name left Simon's lips like a prayer as he pulled away just enough to gaze into their eyes. Their breath was hot against his lips, their eyes lidded. It drove him crazy.

Five only responded by leaning forward, burying their face in his neck. They gently pressed their lips against his neck, their hands moving to grip his shoulders. "This good?" They whispered breathily against his neck, earning a noise of confirmation from Simon. With that, they latched onto his neck, their teeth grazing the delicate skin they sucked.

Simon inhaled sharply, taking a step back in surprise, Five's mouth still at work on his neck. "Shit, go easy, will ya?" He laughed, trying not to sound as pleasure-ridden as he knew he was. "You want the whole township to know?"

"Why not?" They answered, pulling away from his already-bruised neck to look up at him. "Do you not want this?"

"I do," he responded quickly, too quickly. God help him. He offered them a grin. "I just don't want you having all the fun." Without giving Five a chance to speak, he buried a hand in their hair and roughly yanked it, exposing their neck. Simon relished the way they let out a strangled gasp before nipping at their neck.

"Simon…" they breathed, their eyes shut with pleasure, their chin resting on his shoulder. They grinded lightly against him, earning a soft growl from Simon.

He kissed them again, the act both holy and sacrilegious all at once. His hands glided up their sides, and he tried not to think about how someone as sinful as he was could touch someone as divine as they were. They were too good for him, far too good. But he didn’t stop. Simon stripped them of their oversized t-shirt, breaking the kiss to pull it over their head.

Five grabbed his face, their thumbs tenderly brushing against his cheeks. The man in front of them was gorgeous, with his cheeks lightly dusted pink. They smiled. They caused that. In their mind, this was all there was. Just the two of them in this little room. And that was enough. Five tugged off their sweatpants before pulling off Simon’s shirt and shorts and backing him into the couch, pushing him down.

Simon’s gaze traced their body. He let out a breath, reaching out to place his hands on their waist. This was his. His to worship like it was a holy place. And it was, at least to him. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. He spoke with such conviction, more so than when his grandmother had forced him to pray out loud when he was younger. He pressed his lips to their stomach, trailing feather-light kisses up to their neck.

Five couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped their parted lips. “You’ve seen me undressed before,” they reminded him, climbing on top of him and straddling him. The feeling of his bulge rubbing against them only furthered the relentless throb between their legs.

“Mmm, it’s not the same as this,” he mumbled, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth. He grabbed their thighs, gazing up at them with such adoration. Simon softly pressed his lips against theirs, this kiss much more tender than than the last two. He felt a hand on his chest pushing him down against the couch, his back pressed against the material.

They looked at Simon, his large pupils gazing up at them. They pressed their forehead against his, the back of their fingertips gently brushing against his cheek. They had never imagined that they would actually get intimate like this with Simon. Maybe Sam, they thought, but he only saw them as a replacement for Alice. But Simon was different. He had been with them since the beginning, and stuck by their side even though he knew so little about them.

Five buried their fingers in his hair, smiling sweetly at him. A smile they’d never truly given to anyone. They felt Simon reach up to remove their sports bra, slipping the undergarment over their head. They tossed it to the side before removing their underwear, watching as Simon shed his.

“How do you wanna do this?” Simon asked softly, which almost startled Five, who wasn’t used to him being so gentle.

“Whatever you want,” they replied, more than willing to relinquish control if it meant he would sleep with them.

Simon didn’t respond, he only leaned forward to capture their lips with his again. He felt their exposed chest on his, allowing himself to slowly be pushed back down onto the couch.

They placed a hand on his chest, trailing it down to his stomach, feeling his abdominal muscles. “You’re gorgeous,” they commented, planting rough kisses along his collarbone and neck.

Simon let out a small groan. His hands trailed up and down their back, his nails lightly scratching their skin.

“Harder,” they mumbled against his neck. They bit down harder when Simon immediately raked his nails down their back. “Good boy.” They pulled back with a sigh, looking down at his face. A wicked smile grew on their face at his red cheeks and his eyes wide with hope. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re a good boy.” Their hands were in his hair now, their face close to his.

Without a second thought, Simon threw himself forward, earning a squeak from Five as they were pinned against the couch. He nipped at their neck, getting rougher with each new area of their untouched skin. This saintly being was his. In this moment, nobody else had them. Not even Sam bloody Yao. He was tainting them, this sacred person, with his sacrilege. God forgive him. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. He wanted this as bad as they did, if not more.

“Ha... good boy, such a good boy,” the words flowed from their mouth, their hand gripping his hair.

Simon moved himself lower, positioning his head between their thighs and looking up at them with hooded eyes. He watched as Five nodded, then flicked his tongue out, swirling it against their clit. Their soft pants and the way their fingers tightly gripped his hair edged him on. He thrust his tongue into their opening, pressing it up against their walls, moving it in and out. Nothing had ever tasted sweeter to him than they did.

Five let out a short, low moan. Their heels dug into his back, holding them in place as their back arched, their hips bucking up towards his mouth. Their hands desperately pulled at his hair. Simon’s mouth against them felt like heaven. This man, with them like this, was the only religion they’d ever known. “Just like that. God, fuck, you’re so good, Si,” they groaned, the words barely managing to escape their lips in their haze of ecstasy.

Every praise that escaped their lips was like fuel for him. All he wanted was to please them, to be good for them. And god, he was actually managing to do it. The soft gasps and pants they emitted was like a choir of angels to him. Their fingers tangled in his hair, their touch alone, was the most religious experience he’d ever had. His teeth gently brushed over their clit as they rolled their hips over his mouth, focusing on sucking and wiggling his tongue against it as their movements sped up in desperation.

They moaned, gripping his hair tighter, their back arched as a knot formed in their stomach. “Keep- keep going,” Five managed to pant. “Oh, god, just keep doing that.” they felt the knot in their stomach release as they came, a pleasure-filled moan of satisfaction leaving their lips.

Simon pulled his head from between their thighs to look at them. The relieved, contented sigh that escaped them caused him to grin to himself. He had pleased them. He had done good. The sounds that left their soft lips was all he needed. He didn’t care what they did to him next, or what they wanted him to do to them, as long as he could hear their moans.

Five barely managed to lift their head. They tugged his hair, pulling his head from their thighs and sitting up, holding his face in their hands so he would look up at them. His eyes were shining bright with lust, his lips slightly parted as he panted. “You’ve been such a good boy. I think you deserve a reward.” They smiled at the eager nod Simon gave them. “What do you want me to do?”

“Please, let me fuck you,” he found himself saying, earning a deviant smirk from Five.

“I dunno,” they answered, pretending to consider it as they straddled Simon, loosely draping their arms over his shoulders. “Maybe if you beg for it.”

Simon had never seen this confident side of them before. He had no idea that they could be this dominant in bed, and he wanted to make it last as long as possible. “God, please, Five. Please, please, I’ll be a good boy. Haven’t I been a good boy?” He almost felt like he was back in his youth, begging a god he was raised to believe in for forgiveness. But this was different, so much different. Because this was Five. And they thought he was good just as he was.

“You have been a good boy, haven’t you? Such a good boy. You’ve been perfect,” they told him, causing Simon to melt. They were glad to know their words had such an effect on him, because they never wanted to stop telling him how wonderful he was. Five pressed his back against the couch, sticking a hand between the couch cushions and producing a condom package.

Simon couldn’t help but laugh. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve done this before,” he breathed, a soft smile on his face.

Five offered a smirk as a response, removing the condom from its packaging and slipping it over him. They positioned themselves over him, sliding him into them, letting him fill them up. “Is this alright for you?” They asked, tilting their head at him.

Simon’s head was so filled with elated fog, he barely registered their question. “Yeah,” he managed to choke out, his answer breathy and high-pitched as he struggled to bite back a moan.

With his confirmation, Five set a relentless pace, throwing themselves in with reckless abandon. They grinned when Simon let out a startled cry, throwing his head back, his eyes all but rolling back into his skull.

Simon gripped the cushion and bit his lip so hard it bled. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, momentarily rendered silent by the pleasure. His pupils were blown to shit, and he felt himself getting close. Five showed no sign of slowing down; their stamina really was an incredible thing. He came, moaning upon his release. He looked up at Five, who was still sliding in and out of him, unable to hit the spot they wanted. "Here, let me," Simon panted, his voice content but still strained. He expertly flipped Five onto their back in one fluid motion, pounding into their.

Five let out a gasp, their hands flying up to his shoulders, their nails digging into his back. Simon finally hit the spot that ripped a moan from their throat, and they melted beneath him. They barely registered what was going on besides the white-hot pleasure they felt, their walls clenching around him as they came. They gave a pleasure-filled sigh of satisfaction as Simon slowed his pace before pulling out of them and removing the condom. They lay on the couch for a moment, out of breath, momentarily unsure if they were still on this plane of existence.

"You alright there?" Simon asked, a smug smile on his face.

Five returned his smile as they sat up, attempting to run a hand through their tangled hair. "Nah, I'm dead. You killed me," they answered, earning a laugh from Simon.

"With my dick? That's a new one." He grinned at them, leaning back against the cushions, his arms hanging over the back. He didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful sight. Their sparkling eyes, their flushed cheeks, their just-fucked hair, the thin layer of sweat that shone off their skin. They were perfect.

"Oh, I'm the first? Figured you'd be adding me to the list." Five crawled towards him, curling up against him, head against his chest. They looked up at him. "But seriously, you were amazing."

"So were you," Simon agreed, hooking an arm over their shoulders, pulling them closer. He pressed his lips against their temple.

Five's eyelids felt so heavy, but they couldn't sleep now. Not like this, not a sticky mess in Simon's arms. "Can we- can we just stay like this for a minute..?"

Simon hummed in response, his hand running slowly up and down their side. His breath hitched when Five casually swung a leg across his lap and an arm over his chest, nuzzling the top of their head under his chin. He didn’t understand how someone as corrupt as him was able to wish for paradise and receive it, but he wouldn’t complain. He stayed as still as he could, almost afraid to move; one wrong move, and Five would retreat, never allowing him to get this close ever again.

Shifting slightly, Simon carefully, cautiously, wrapped his arms around their body. Their bare skin against his felt like fire, burning him like a demon on consecrated ground. Cleansing him. He held Five close, burying his face in their neck as his fingers weaved through their hair. He heard them let out a deep, relaxed exhale, and smiled against their neck. Simon slowly moved himself again, Five still in his grasp as he leaned back against the cushions, pulling them on top of him.

Five smiled softly, pressing their lips against his, sweet and chaste, before resting their head on his chest again. The steady lull of his heartbeat further soothed their mind. They felt his fingers in their hair, gently detangling it as his hand ran through it. Their eyes shut for a few moments in pure bliss.

“So, how long have you wanted to kiss me?” Simon asked after a while, a smirk on his face, hand still stroking their hair.

Five chuckled awkwardly, their face flushing. “A while now,” they admitted softly. “I wanted to know what it was like.”

“And what was it like?”

They paused for a moment before answering. “Incredible,” they whispered, almost awestruck. “God, you’re fucking amazing, Si.”

He grinned. “Of course I am,” he agreed arrogantly, though it was all for show. “Shit, Five, do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that with you?” Simon laughed, almost in disbelief.

“You could’ve just asked. I would’ve said yes,” they told him, lifting their head and moving their hands to cradle his face, a teasing smile tugging at their lips. “When have I ever said no to sex?”

“It wouldn’t have seemed as genuine if I asked,” he answered with an eye roll, as if he’d just stated the most obvious thing. “It would’ve sounded like I just wanted sex, and not that I-” Simon didn’t finish his sentence, looking to the side as Five tilted their head, their eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“That you what?” They inquired, their heart pounding. Their hands still held his face in place, their eyes darting around his facial features. His pink-tinted cheeks, how he bit his lip, the way his eyes looked at everything else except them. Five smiled. “Aww, does someone have a crush?” They teased with a gentle laugh.

“Are you blind?” Simon snorted. “Of course I do, you bloody idiot. I thought I made it obvious.” Was that why nothing happened sooner? Had Five really not known he was attracted to them?

“Wait, seriously?” They asked, quirking a brow, their hands sliding from his cheeks to his shoulders.

Simon let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head, a small smile on his face. “Clever as you are, you’re certainly not the brightest,” he chuckled, earning a playful pout from the other runner. “What did you think all the flirting was for?”

“You were being serious?” Five yelped, their face flushed. “I thought you did that with everyone!” Their eyes were wide with embarrassment as Simon laughed, covering his mouth with a hand to stop himself, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"You responded to it!"

"Well, I didn't know we were actually flirting!"

The small room was filled with aching laughter, neither of them knowing quite what to say next. Their giggles died down after a while, Simon sitting up and leaning forward to kiss them. He could feel them smile into the kiss, causing him to smile. They laughed again, their smiles too broad for them to properly kiss each other. Five pressed their forehead against his, their arms draping over his shoulders while Simon’s arms wrapped themselves around the smaller runner’s waist. Gazing into each other’s eyes, both of them had the same thought: how the hell were they going to explain this to Janine?

[guylty]

How quickly time flies. If Besotted hadn’t reminded me in the comments, I would’ve completely forgotten that I had a last episode of The Impressionists to catch up with. Forgetting the Re-Watch is symptomatic. I may have enjoyed the show, and the wide smiles that Armitage was allowed to brighten the screen with were certainly welcome, but somehow this mini-series was never – and never will be – my favourite of Richard’s works.

It’s not *all* because of the wig and look of Claude Monet. *That* is easily balanced out by the wide smiles! My lukewarm feelings about this mini-series has more to do with my general lack of enthusiasm for impressionism. I fully appreciate the importance of this arts movement for the development of painting and art in general, and I understand the impressionists’ value. In many case I actually do find their paintings particularly evocative, beautiful and touching. I guess, my problem with them is that they have become too popular – which usually makes me turn away from something. That’s unfair – but unfortunately true. But I totally concede that – particularly Monet’s – Impressionist paintings are incredibly beautiful.

Quick Summary

We pick up again in episode 3 of TI with the group celebrating Edouard Manet’s formal recognition as an artist after he has been awarded the Légion d’Honneur. However, Manet is suffering from syphilis and his health deteriorates. He dies in 1883. Monet, OTOH, is living with Alice Hochedé after his wife’s death. The two of them become a couple, marry and eventually settle in Giverny. Monet develops his serial painting technique, always following the changing light.

A large part of this episode is taken up with the life and travails of Paul Cézanne who is seen as a revolutionary new painter by the impressionists. Despite an affluent background, he lives in poverty with his working class wife and illegitimate son. First shunned by the art world, Cézanne’s genius is eventually recognised and he joins the Impressionists as the most celebrated painters in the world. They overcame all the obstacles and changed painting – and art – forever. So much for the summary of episode 3.  

Beards and Hair

I was quite amused in this episode about the changing hairstyles of Claude Monet. Starting out with short hair and a pipe, the next scene in a café he had long hair again. Continuity was a bit lax there, I thought 😂. But at least we could see that RA really knew how to smoke. Yep, as an ex-smoker (almost 6 months to the day) I notice such things. – Eventually the episode settled into short hair for Claude. And I couldn’t help but feel reminded of my personal hero Leon Trotzky…

Tenuous. I know. But fun. Right down to the left eyebrow.

However, let’s stay quickly with the look – ok, I am a not a fan of facial shrubbery at all, and particularly not these kind of standalone shrubs on upper lip and chin. If there has to be facial hair, give me a full blown meadow that covers all (beard) or stay with the manicured lawn aka stubble. Looking at the overgrown goatee on Richard’s chin, however, I am wondering whether it is actually his own. Not only because he has always been so proud of his fast growth and thus the conclusion lies near. No, but also because of the tell-tale triangle underneath his lower lip. Mr Armitage has, indeed, a rather pretty beard-growth pattern (see evidence on right).

Elder statesman or ill-fitting wig?

I was quite taken with the elder statesman look he was given in the latter part of the episode, once Monet had settled down with Alice and concentrated on creating Giverny as his inspirational garden. (I don’t really think that Richard has an old man’s face, yet, though, so I finally was reconciled with Julian Glover playing Monet senior in the framework plot.) In fact, I found myself fascinated by the grey temples and the short hair, and I kept screen-shooting.

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I also enjoyed that his eye crinkles came into play…

Things I Loved

As always, Richard – even considerably younger and less experienced than today – was a pleasure to watch. I loved the scenes where he glowed with enthusiasm, happiness and lust for life, smiling widely with glowing teeth. But I especially liked the scenes where you could hear him laugh. It really doesn’t happen very often at all that you can hear Richard Armitage laugh in one of his roles. He is the go-to man for scowling (Guy of Gisborne, John Thornton), growling (Francis Dolarhyde, Thorin Oakenshield) and frowning (John Porter, Daniel Miller). And yet his laugh is an absolute joy. In German we call his kind of laugh “gurgling” – but that doesn’t quite hit it in English. What I like about it is not what it looks like (although I believe that *every* laugh looks beautiful), but what it sounds like. Reminder:

That’s what he laughed like in his younger years. (I think his laugh now has become slightly deeper, more baritone, whereas it sounded more tenor way back in the early 2000s.) And it is infectious. Bookmark and keep near for any rainy day. It definitely works.

Ok, moving on. The old fogey in me also quite enjoyed the mature-lovestory-section of this episode. We were discussing it somewhere in the comments, I believe, and the series didn’t really get into it, but there are suspicions that Monet and Alice Hoschedé started their relationship even before she split with her husband and moved in with the Monets. Her youngest child may even have been by Monet. In that sense, it was lovely that the series spent a little time with Monet’s and Alice’s relationship. I wasn’t quite convinced by Richard’s choice to play Monet as out of breath as if he had just raced a marathon when he catches Alice in the garden and proposes. But this completely balanced everything out:

Why yes, Mr Thornton, I am coming home with you.

Not to mention this:

Gorgeous crinkles, like arrows pointing at happy eyes.

Ok, bonus for the romantics among you:

Yeah, man, this was such a clean show, it almost seemed as if it was made for school TV. You know what I mean? Your history/art/literature teacher wheeling in the big TV and the VCR, and then you’d sit through an hour of veritable and highly educational but mindnumbingly clean-and-boring docudrama? Well, to be suitable for teenagers, no tit may be shown, no mention of sex may be made and no tongue may be used. 😂

And Where It Went Wrong For Me

And maybe that is what ultimately irked me about this show, or what prevented me from saying ” I love Love LOVE The Impressionists!!” It’s not that I need sex in every TV show to keep me engaged. And I am a big fan of contextualising history and presenting it in a way that the viewers can relate to. In that sense it was great that this mini-series made an attempt at showing the personal sacrifices all those pioneering painters had to make in order to succeed with their art. From losing Bazille in the war, via Manet’s syphilis, Degas’ eye illness and declining fortunes, to the overwhelming poverty of Monet and Cézanne, TÍ  is not simply a list of artistic milestones in the painters’ lives, but a look at how they progress as painters as well as men. And herein may also be the problem for me – I never fully committed to the show, and maybe so because of the lack of women in the narrative. Don’t get me wrong – of course I “saw” Camille and Alice, and Mme Manet, Mme Cézanne and various models. But that’s exactly it, “various models”. Sure, you don’t have to explain to me that the 19th century was still a time dominated by men. But that doesn’t mean that in their private lives, men were uninfluenced (and untouched) by women. Or that women artists did not exist or not contribute to the development of art. Berthe Morisot and Eva Gonzalez were part of the impressionist set – they don’t even turn up in passing in this series. The wives and women remain in their traditional role as nurturer, house-keeper and mothers.

Women. Reduced to nurturers and parasol-bearers?

(Left-field thought: Maybe it is also because this show was made in 2006 that women aren’t represented more prominently?) And all that may also be due to the limited amount of time available (3 hours) for a group of painters. In fairness, it would’ve been impossible to depict the lives and times of the impressionists in detail, and hence also a number of *male* protagonists of the movement (Pissarro? Gauguin? Sisley? Matisse?) had to be left out in order to contain the show. However, for me the whole show remained somewhat one-dimensional.

The Disclaimer

For fans of Richard Armitage, however, TI is definitely a worth-while show to watch. The smiles, the laugh, and the mannerisms that are just delightful to recognise. From Richard’s insistent innovative use of his teeth, to delicate hand movements and holding his head at *that* characteristic angle, there are certain “trademarks” in his acting repertoire that superfans such as us have no trouble identifying.

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And Richard convincingly acts emotions and draws the audience into the emotional world of the sensitive artist.

Lastly I want to commend the mini series for producing beautiful images. I loved the wide shots especially because they illustrated so clearly what the impressionists were after.

These shots play with the impressionists’ emphasis of depicting the *moment*, pinpointing the changeability of art, and the transience of life. The impressionists’ penchant for working plein air is ideally illustrated here. And the series is obviously also conscious of depicting movement rather than static subjects, and the different qualities of light – during the day, the seasons, inside and outside, in rain, sun or locomotive steam – as these are impressionist characteristics that are often also attributed to film (and photography). In that sense the series puts the theory into practice.

Last note: Just as I was watching episode 3 of TI, the news came through that a Monet painting has set a new record price for works by the artist. From the “haystack” series of paintings, the picture was sold for $110m in New York. An indication of how *right* the impressionists were.

I finish with a quote by Berthe Morisot, of all people.

It is important to express oneself… provided the feelings are real and are taken from your own experience.

The impressionist painters did that beautifully, and showed us that it can be done and *should* be done. No one better to portray “real” feelings than Richard. And I am always happy to see how he expresses them.

    Re-Watching The Impressionists [part 3] – Finale How quickly time flies. If Besotted hadn't reminded me in the comments, I would've completely forgotten that I had a last episode of 

[sparkledeerfr]

Castle Snoopin’

Some vignettes of the first day of everyone getting to snoop. We learn a little about Gren and it doesn’t surprise anyone. We learn a little about other people that might.

And yeah, there is a bunch of stuff in there. That’s just what happens if you leave Gren out of sight for long enough.

Warnings: Death mentions (we didn’t know ‘em it’s cool), a swear or two. 

It was honestly weird seeing the giant doors- things nearly the size of the main gate- open on the front of The Castle, weirder still to see people milling in and exploring out of curiosity. Booker and Hex were keeping an eye on things, making sure no visitors went inside until the place was good and cleared out. Between Daniel (traps and mimics that Adeline swore were now breeding new varieties of their own accord. There was no way the man remembered how many he had), Grenfell (definitely had things in there, would flat out refuse to say exactly what until they found it, of course), and the place itself deciding to move things it could be dangerous, especially for anyone unused to the oddities of the city. Pattel had been good enough to offer to help and March would likely be wandering somewhere with Kylie.

That combined with the Shielders meant there was more than enough people keeping watch that hopefully, really, really hopefully, someone wouldn’t blow themselves up. Or get a hand or foot eaten.

---

Grenfell was wandering upstairs intending to check on something, but in the meandering way of one who didn’t want to go directly to his destination and possibly lead someone else there. He also rather enjoyed seeing people walking around, making little comments about things. Yes, he knew the place was dark and creepy. It was supposed to be. It was also supposed to make him stand out though yes, looking back on it the place was a bit dreary and poorly laid out, but that could be easily changed.

Gods he was becoming domesticated, wasn’t he? He was actually looking forward to planning and revamping with Sparks, possibly with some snippy input from Katsu. A hand reached up to absentmindedly pet Pietro who was in his usual place- slung across his shoulders like a cat, or more accurately the bodies of at least three pets gelled together. Perhaps it was parental instinct to improve the nest. His son did deserve to grow up someplace nice, maybe with some potted plants decorating-

“Hey,” a voice said, and there was a light slap on his arm. Grenfell paused his thought process and looked down to see the slight but athletic frame of Crunch.

“Yes, darling?” he asked. There was a momentary scrunch of her face, easily visible even with the travelling hood and goggles. Crunch wasn’t fond of his tendency to call everyone pet names, but she also knew he meant nothing by it and was unlikely to change. It was simply habit, a thing he did to signal that he liked you, or could at least stand you.

“There’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to ask you about for a while,” she said, putting a gloved hand on a hip. “You mind?”

“Not at all.”

----

“Alice, be careful,” Samuel said and she tried not to snort. He was still rail thin and looked about half dead, dragging his left foot slightly as it hadn’t regained all of its feeling.

“Me be careful?” she asked good naturedly, coming up and putting a shoulder under one of his arms. “We should find you a chair. You need rest.” He was on the trail of something in this place, and his curiosity wouldn’t let him stop until he found what was bothering him and examined it. Unfortunately he couldn’t just manifest in The Castle and relax- there was some kind of odd warping magic that as he put it it ‘made it feel like there’s wind stinging my eyes.’

“Just a few more minutes,” he said, trying not to let wear enter his voice. He was grateful to be able to actually move again, to have a body, but why did everything have to be so slow and tiring? “And yes, you’re the one most affected by sudden magic surges.”

“Hush fuss bucket,” she said, sticking her tounge out. “I’ll be fine for a few m-m-m-” Alice shook her head, though Samuel caught it, the slight blinking skip in her form. “-Minutes.”

“Ah,” he replied. He’d apologized repeatedly about what had gotten them into this state in the first place but still felt poorly, perhaps because it seemed she could never be mad at him. She was just happy that he was alive and recovering, which didn’t exactly relieve his guilt. Odd that it would be easier if she’d yell at him a little.

“Skip?” she asked when she saw his face, even half covered in rot and bandages it was easy to see what he was thinking. He never was any good at concealing feelings.

“Skip,” he nodded as they continued slowly forward and found themselves in another open hall. What was this one supposed to be? A grand dining area? Formal living? It just looked like a large fancy room with peeling black and gold wallpaper.

There were more stairs, some leading up and some down. His instincts said down, but externally he sighed. This place seemed to be made of stairs, and Alice was right, he was getting tired. “Man, finding our way back out is going to be a nightmare,” she said, looking up to the decorative tin ceiling that didn’t seem to reflect much of the low lighting in the room.

“I believe that was an intentional design decision,” Sam said, making his way slowly down the steps. “But we’re close to whatever it is, I can feel it.”

---

Adeline walked, hands in her pockets and feeling over the small rocks she’d placed in there to toss at things that seemed suspicious. Already she’d found three rug mimics and a brand new fun breed- a painting mimic. That one was at least easy to spot as it was a splotchy purple that almost looked like an impressionist painting, until you realized it was a bit too thick and its ‘frame’ was also purple.

She heard an irritated sigh coming from an open room down the hall (at least this hall was average sized) and recognized the voice: Santi.

Adeline poked her head in. “What’s-” she started when she realized what the room contained. In the center was what could be considered a statue. The thing was enormous and looked to be a mass of skeletons all carved of grey stone, each crawling over each other and reaching out with bony fingers almost plaintively, jaws open in a silent cry.

Then she saw what the mass was reaching for- statues of the gods against the walls, faces barely lit. It could resemble a very inclusive prayer room if you didn’t notice that the gods were all twisting over each other, constricting as though swimming in a strong current, and each face was a mocking and angry mask. She found Stormcatcher whose mouth was open and baring fangs, mantis arms lifted as though intending to take a chunk out of something larger in front of him.

She wasn’t exactly religious, but there was no damn way she was going in that room. Santi was a bit braver in this regard and was currently standing in front of Lightweaver, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes in irritation. “It’s all enchanted, isn’t it?” she asked him.

“MmmmHrM,” he said as an annoyed noise, nodding and standing as though attempting to give himself the will to push entirely through his own face.

She pointed to the mass of carved skeletons. “And there are actual bodies in that?”

“MmmHRM.”

“Welp,” she said, hands still on the frame of the doorway as she looked back up and caught the face of the Arcanist, needle sharp teeth coming from a strange alien form. “Just uhhhh….let me know if you need something. And thank you. A bunch.”

----

“So”, Crunch asked Gren as she looked up at a giant stone face that slightly resembled a porcelain mask with its eyes shut. They were in a lower area, near what one would call the basement if it weren’t for the tunnels even further below them, but this place looked unfinished, especially as it had hard packed dirt floors. The giant mask, easily more than ten feet in height, was placed high above them between two sets of stairs leading upwards. “What’s it do?”

“Oh that thing,” Grenfell said, waving a hand and walking over to a blank grey brick wall. “Where is it where is it?” he asked mostly to himself as he looked the bricks over, trying to remember. “Ah yes, here.” He reached a hand through the stone as it if were water and Crunch tensed, ready to run if there was the slightest thing off, but still she was curious.

The face opened its eyes, revealing they were made of painted ceramic with bright blue irises. She waited but it just...blinked. After a few more seconds when Gren had stood back next to her and was watching it with her, she realized that was it. “I have been looking at that damn thing for years,” Crunch said as the face blinked again with a slight grinding noise of stone against stone. “I was like ‘man that’s gotta do some bullshit’...and you’re telling me that’s it?”

“Yes!” Grenfell said happily as Pietro hissed at the unfamiliar sight. “Not everything has to do something. That’s the art of it, Crunch. If everything does something then nothing is frightening. It’s all about ambiance.”

“So it's all made to scare people?”

“Most things in the Castle and some of the city, yes.” Grenfell said, bouncing on the balls of his feet and clasping his hands behind his back. “You see any fool with a knife can make someone afraid, but to do it simply through environment without them setting eyes on you? Now that I would call a skill. You want a sense of creeping dread, so that when you do finally arrive, it has settled into their bones.”

“So its kinda…” Crunch stopped and looked back up at that stupid face. Yeah, she guessed if she was crawling around in an unknown place and saw that thing she would be put right off. “Tactics?”

“Oh no no,” Grenfell said, happy to share his thought process. “My very favorite thing is when I finally corner someone and they know, they absolutely know that they are going to die and there’s nothing they can do about it. You can see it in their face. It’s artistry, really. Environmental storytelling followed by force.”

“Right,” she nodded, not really getting it but understanding the idea. “But you’re fine with us? I mean your favorite thing is murder and all.”

“It is,” he said, and his hand went back up to pet Pietro. There was something very reassuring about his strange purr and the way he rubbed his head against his hand. He was such a good child. “And perhaps if different people had taken over my city there would be a very different story happening. But...I have friends. I have my son. Let us enjoy this collaboration while we have it. Time marches ceaselessly on, and I can afford to wait.”

“Yeah,” Crunch said, crossing her arms before looking up to his face. “You’re alright for a crazy person.”

“Thank you!”

---

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be exploring, dear?” Nimue asked Kylie, who was currently holding a child in her arms as they stood in one of the few rooms Jamison had re-done completely. There was actual paint, color, light and furniture.

Of all the things Kylie had expected to find in this city, the fact that the giant creepy castle was home to parents wasn’t one of them. It wasn’t that they had kids, it was just that they exuded...parent...ness. It was probably that Nimue was lounging on a padded bench by the window with Yuki and Jam had offered her sandwiches. You also kind of felt weird cussing around them.

“Oh heck no. I am not touching anything in here until Santi’s looked at it first,” Kylie said, bouncing the kid in her arms. Apparently the boy had earned the nickname ‘Near’ for his tendency to stay out things and instead observe them from a distance. Well, when you had a sister like Yuki you probably let her take care of the action. “Why do they call you Jam and not like...James?”

“I’ve changed my appearance quite a few times over the years,” Jam replied. “One look contained a lot of purple, and the nickname stuck.” He noticed that March was attempting his usual passive mode of lounging with his back against a wall, ankles and arms crossed, but his tail was twitching. “Are you certain that you wouldn’t like to sit?” Jam asked him. He’d said hello to March a few times before now, so what was making him be on edge? Nimue? The new environment?

March shook his head before tilting it at Jam. Ah. “Relax big guy,” Jam said to him, wanting to go over and clap him on the shoulder but knowing that wasn’t the right move. He’d settle on his own. “Been retired a long time now. Longer than Walter, actually.”

Jam felt his wife’s eyes suddenly on him, boring a hole straight into him as Kylie asked: “Who’s Walter?” Oh dear. March put a hand out and traced something onto her shoulder, causing Kylie to gently set Near on the ground. “Excuse me I need to go right now. Just uh...forgot something. Be right back.”

Jam looked up at the ceiling and sighed, knowing who was going to be behind him if he turned around. It was a thing you got used to. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m used to it just being us in here.”

“Great,” Walter said, walking around him and picking Near up from the floor. “Everyone’s going to know in-”

“WHAT,” the voice of Jack came from down the hall. “It’s been TEN GODDAMN YEARS YOU SHIT.”

“-thirty seconds.”

----

Samuel was feeling about how Adeline had felt about the god room, standing just outside the doorway and peering into something he wished 1) wasn’t there and 2) that he hadn’t seen. He was a naturally curious person and something of a magical researcher, but there was no way he was stepping more than a foot in there.

He knew what the strange glowing thing in the center of it was- silvery rings twisting and flitting around each other like a child’s toy. A Rifedel’s Compass, an item meant to slowly leech magical energy from an area and then later be reversed to expend said energy. A handy thing when you were working with say, magical items that could be dangerous. Arcane energy in particular had a tendency to do what it wanted if not properly contained.

But he’d only ever seen ones with three rings, and he also knew the more power they leeched the more chaotic and potentially dangerous the compass itself became. The world’s energy wasn’t meant to be stuffed into a container, after all.

This thing had twelve rings, it was spinning wildly and there were inscriptions all around the conical room that he could feel were moving the energy around, expending at least some of it. He was also aware that the city itself was sitting on a Shadow leyline. Grenfell had put this stupid thing on a goddamn leyline and left it there. There was an obsidian circle set in the floor below it, which probably did something he didn’t understand quite yet. Sam put a hand to his face. No wonder this whole city was constantly flooded with magic, and if he attempted to turn it off there was a very, very large chance of it exploding and a possible chain reaction with the leyline.

For someone so clever Grenfell could be really dumb. Or maybe the entire point was mutually assured destruction. Samuel straightened himself and looked back to Alice, who had her hands over her mouth and nose and was breathing slowly, concentrating on not skipping. “Let’s get you away from here,” he said.

“That would b-b-b-” she looked towards the ceiling and gave a frustrated sigh as her entire body flickered like candlelight in a breeze, threatening to blink away somewhere in time. “BE good.”

“Really, really sorry about that,” Samuel said, wincing slightly. Maybe he shouldn’t be so hard on Gren for trying things that were very stupid in hindsight. It seemed a habit of Arcane dragons to push the limits and occasionally have it snap back into your face.

“I know, you don’t need to k-k-k-....ugh.”

“Yeah, I do.”

[minister-for-femslash]

The Five Labours Of Alice Quinn

Summary: Alice makes a deal with Ember. He will perform the resurrection spell as long as she completes a series of tasks that will prove her worthy... Set during the first timeline.

Pairing: Julia/Alice

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and character death

Word Count: 10,051

Author’s Note: A fic for Welters Challenge, theme 6: Gods and Monsters

Author’s Note 2: This is a companion piece to my previous entry So It Turns Out You’re Not My Soulmate. But you don’t have to read that one to understand this one. 

The back of Alice's thighs burn. A sharp pain shoots through her chest with every breath. The ground is uneven beneath her feet and she stumbles. The mountain is steep. Too steep. She falls backwards and her fingers sink into the mud as she clings on. Her trousers rip. Small pebbles and rough ground tear at the skin on her knees and shins.

She stops, flops down against the ground, her cheek resting in the mud. She's exhausted. Physically and emotionally. Her hands shake and her head feels too heavy for her shoulders. The world spins around her.

“Julia,” she says. Her voice is weak, barely more than a croak. Her throat burns. “Help me. Please, help me. God, I need you to help me.”

She looks at her wrist. The thin piece of red fabric is still tied around it. Some of it now frayed. It feels looser than it did when she started to climb.

There's a whimper. For a moment Alice thinks that it's coming from her but it gets louder and louder, and she looks up. She can see the top of the mountain with a hint of snow on the peak, and thick, white clouds that seem to wrap around it. It's far away, so very far away. She'll never make it. But just ten or so feet above her is a ledge.

“Help me. Please, help me.” The words echo through the air. It's a woman's voice, kind of husky and a little hoarse.

Alice sucks in a few sharp and painful breaths and then pushes herself up. She scrambles. Her feet continue to slip and she has to keep digging her fingers into the mud. She slowly drags herself up, pulls herself onto the ledge and throws herself onto her back.

“Help me.” The woman says again.

Alice turns her head and she sees a young woman near the entrance to a cave. She has wavy, dark hair. There's blood on her forehead and her right leg is curled up underneath her, twisted at an odd ankle.

“Please, help me.”

She looks like...

Alice quickly sits up and rushes towards the woman.

“What happened?”

“The lizard, he... He kidnapped me and...”

Alice places her hands on the woman's forehead, presses her thumb against the skin. The wound is shallow and Alice frowns. There's a lot of blood for such a small wound.

“You're not a knight.”

“No.” Alice moves down to look at the woman's ankle. “I'm a Magician.” She lifts up the woman's trouser leg and sees the dark, black tinge to her skin. Bruising. It certainly looks like a twisted ankle, but when Alice's fingers brush against it the woman doesn't even flinch.

She presses a little harder just to see, and there's no response. At least until the woman looks down and sees Alice's thumb pressing against her ankle and then she grimaces.

“Ow.”

It doesn't sound very convincing and Alice pulls back.

“Who are you?”

The woman smiles.

The skin under Alice's fingertips morphs and changes. She looks down. The woman's legs are no longer there, instead there's a tail, with thick, green overlapping scales. Alice tumbles back as the woman hisses. Her tongue becomes thin and forked as it flicks out.

Her face elongates. Her hair disappears and her forehead flattens. Her fingers shorten and thick, black claws appear. Her eyes turn jet black.

“I'm sure you'll make a nice snack.” Her words come out as a hiss.

The lizard shoots forward. There's a flash of fangs and Alice dives out of the way. Her body rolls across the floor and there are more scratches and cuts, and a cloud of dust is kicked up. Alice coughs.

She tries to scramble to her feet, but she stumbles and lands on her knees. She looks over. The lizard advances on her and Alice realises that she's dived towards the cave and away from the ledge. Now she's trapped.

Alice shivers. Julia's fingers brush gently against her skin as she wraps the piece of thin, red fabric around her wrist.

“You know they say that if...”

“Who's they?” Alice interrupts.

Julia stops. She's in the middle of tying the fabric as she looks up at Alice, the hint of a smile on her face.

“What do you mean who's they? Just they,” Julia says with a slight laugh. She holds Alice's gaze as she finishes tying the piece of fabric. She makes it tight enough to stay on and then takes Alice's hand and brings it to her lips. She kisses her fingers. “They say if you wear a piece of thread, just like this one, if it's given to you by somebody who loves you completely and purely then no matter what happens, their love will keep you safe.”

“Who's they?”

“Do you have to know everything?”

“I'd like to.”

“Okay, fine. I just made it up. But it sounds nice, right?”

“It sounds beautiful.”

“You're beautiful,” Julia says. She leans forward and gently kisses Alice's lips. Julia pulls her close and Alice sinks into her.

Alice looks down at the thread around her wrist. She runs her thumb across it. She can feel the ghost of Julia's fingers on her skin and her same shiver moves down her spine. 

The lizard charges forward. It's mouth open wide and Alice can see the fangs dripping with what she assumes is venom.

She waits. Waits until those fangs are almost upon her and then she thrusts her hands forward. She hits the lizard sqaure in the chest with a blast of purple energy. It flies backwards. It's claws dig into the ground and it comes to a halt just a few inches from the ledge. Alice doesn't hesitate. She hits the lizard with another blast and it lets out a scream as it topples over the edge.

She rushes forward and watches as it falls down the mountain, it's head cracking heavily against rocks and ledges, until it's body becomes lifeless.

It takes Alice another four hours to make her way back down the mountain. It's slightly easier than going up, but she still comes away with more cuts and bruises. Her entire body is in agony and as she reaches the bottom she sees no sign of the lizard.

“No. No come on, please,” Alice mutters.

She spins around and sees a green scaly foot sticking out of a nearby bush. Alice walks over. She feels a sense of relief as she sees the lizard's body lying there, it's glassy eyes open but empty. She grabs it's tail and yanks it out of the bush.

She drags it back to Ember and throws it down at his hooves. He looks at her and then down at the body of the lizard with little more than amusement.

“Miss Quinn, you succeeded. How marvellous.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Do you know how many knights this lizard has killed?”

“Well, I'm extremely motivated.”

His chuckle is loud and melodic.

“Yes, I suppose you are. This is going to be fun.” He steps over the lizard's body and moves towards her. The click of his hooves echo. “I have a new task for you.” He pulls a knife from somewhere, Alice doesn't want to know where and holds it out for her, blade first.

It's curved, thick and sharp. She reaches for it carefully, grips it with the tips of her fingers. It feels heavy as she turns it over in her palm. There are engravings on the handle. The Fillorian insignia.

“I thought killing the lizard...”

“Resurrection is no easy endeavour, child, even for Gods. If you want me to perform the ritual then you must prove yourself worthy of such a gift. Now, a few miles from here is a lake, I like to bath in it. But ever since that villain, Martin Chatwin came to Fillory my lake has been inhabited by a squid. A rather annoying, pesky little creature. I want you to kill it. Bring me proof and I'll consider granting your request.”  He turns away from her and she knows the conversation is over.

-----

Ember is lying when he says the lake is a few miles away, it's closer to twenty. Night has fallen by the time Alice makes it there and every muscle in her body aches. There's a chill in the air. There are goosebumps on the back of her neck and her teeth chatter as she pushes her way through the tree branches and finally sees the moonlight reflecting off the surface of the water. The knife is tucked into the inside of her jacket.

She takes it out.

There's a shine off the blade as she stands on the edge of the lake. She removes her jacket, then her shoes and socks. Blood is smeared across her skin. On her heel, in between her toes. She steps into the water and the pain shoots through her. She takes another step and as the initial pain subsides there's a coolness to it. She sighs. She lowers herself down gently. Every cut and bruise on her body screams out for just a moment and then the pain begins to dull. The water seems to soothe her.

The knife is still in her hand as she takes a breath and dips her head under the water. Her eyes are open. They sting a little and she blinks as she moves further into the lake. Alice allows herself to float beneath the surface. Her clothes become heavy as the fabric fills with water and she begins to sink. The lack of oxygen causes a burn in her chest. Her body hiccups. She looks up at the surface. She can see the moon shining down and she knows it would be so easy to just continue to sink.

She holds the knife out in front of her and allows it to fall from her hand. She watches as it drops. A moment later she reaches for the handle. She misjudges the distance and it bounces off her fingers and continues to sink. Alice swims towards it. She grabs the knife only to see something flicker to her left. She kicks with her legs and spins.

There's another flicker and a hint of yellow. The burning in her chest is getting stronger but instead of heading to the surface, she swims towards it. There's another flicker and more yellow. A large oval with a small black pinprick in the middle.

It's an eye, a giant eye.

Then there's another. Giant eyes for a giant squid.

Alice stays perfectly still as it stares. There's a ripple in the water as a tentacle slowly reaches towards her. It hovers in front of her face, touches her forehead and then her cheek. Her muscle clench. Her body is desperate for oxygen but she's too scared to move. Another tentacle touches her shoulder and Alice forces herself to smile. 

The squid's eye flick down to the knife in her hand. Alice tries to speak. She shakes her head, tries to mouth the word no but water floods into her mouth and she's choking.

She kicks up, shoots towards the surface only for the tentacle to grab at her ankle. The suckers latch on. There's pain. Lots and lots of pain, as little pincers dig into her flesh. She struggles. Her arms flail and she tries to kick with her free leg but the squid pulls her further down under the water.

Alice's body folds. She looks down and the squid's eyes stare back at her. She brings her arm down. The water restricts her movements and the swing isn't as fast as she needs it to be. The knife barely makes a scratch on the tentacle. She tries again, drives the blade down this time and somehow manages to get enough force to pierce the tentacle with the tip.

The grip on her leg loosens. Alice kicks again. She moves through the water and breaks through the surface quickly. She gasps for air.

There's a crash. Alice is propelled forward by a wave of water and she crashes onto the ground.

She drags herself out. She turns over and sees the giant squid rising out of the lake, with it's bulbous head and bright yellow eyes.

She's somehow managed to keep a grip on the blade. She holds it out. Her hand is unsteady and the blade wobbles.

A tentacle shoots towards her. It's quick. So fast that she doesn't even see it. She just feels it slam into her hand. There's a clatter as the knife is thrown to the ground. The tentacle strikes again. This time it slams into her chest. What little air she's managed to get into her lungs is forced back out again as she's thrown into the air.

She crashes into the side of a tree and everything goes black.

-----

Alice's eyes flutter open. There's a soft mattress under her back, a pillow under her head. Her body aches. There's a dull throb in her chest. She tries to sit up, but her arms are shaky and she can't support herself. She flops back down.

Her eyes close.

She drifts off and after a couple of hours she hears the sound of a door opening. There are footsteps. The creak of floorboards and then a clatter.

Alice opens her eyes. She turns her head and see a young woman placing a plate and a mug down onto the small wooden table next to the bed.

“Where am I?”

The woman spins around. The mug is still in her hands and clear water splashes over the edge and onto the dusty floorboards. She's tall, with long dark hair and a circular face. The woman smiles.

“You're awake. I thought you were going to sleep for like a month.”

“Who are you?”

“Oh sorry, hi, I'm Fen. I found you, near the lake. You were injured and unconscious, so I brought you back here. I bandaged your wounds.”

Alice notices a throbbing in her head. She reaches up and places her fingers against it, feels the crudely made bandage that's there.

“Here.”

Fen takes a step towards the bed and Alice instinctively pulls back.

“It's water.” Fen holds out the mug.

Alice hesitates. Her mouth is dry and she feels dangerously weak. She tentatively reaches out and grasps the mug. She takes a small sip, swills it around in her mouth. It tastes fine so she swallows it down.

“Thank you,” Alice says before she drinks down the rest of the water as quickly as possible. She’s sloppy. Some of it dribbles down her chin. She wipes it away and then licks the drops off the fingers.

“I'll get you another.” Fen takes the mug back and then picks up the plate. There's a slice of bread and a small circle of cheese on it. “You should eat something.” She places the plate onto the bed next to Alice's thigh and then disappears out the door.

Alice picks up the bread and brings it to her lips. There's a pain in her stomach, sharp, like a hot needle and she feels nauseous. She thinks she might be sick. She drops the bread back down on the plate. 

Fen returns a few moments later with another mug of water. If she notices the uneaten food she doesn't say anything.

Alice drinks this one slower. Small, gentle sips.

Fen stands and watches, and Alice feels desperately uncomfortable. She places the mug on the bedside table and tries to sit up, but the moment she does the room begins to spin and she has to lay back down again.

“You need to rest,” Fen says.

“No. I need to kill the squid.”

“What?”

“I need to kill the squid.”

“The one in the lake? The unkillable squid?”

Alice closes her eyes and laughs, because of course. Of course the squid is unkillable. Of course Ember set her an impossible task.

“Yes. I need to kill the unkillable squid.”  

“I guess that's why I also found this.” Fen removes something from her tunic and places it on the bed next to the plate.

It's the knife that Ember gave her.

“If you really want to kill the squid then you need something better than that. Smaller, more delicate, like a fluting knife.”

“You know about knives?”

“My father's a knife maker.

“Can you make me one? A fluting knife.”

“My father probably could. But he won't. Not unless you have something to trade. You really should eat something.” Fen heads for the door.

Alice waits for it to close and then lets out a frustrated sigh.

The stars seem to sparkle as Alice stares up at the sky. There are clouds on the horizon but directly above Breakbills there's a clear sky. There's a tear on Alice's cheek. She brushes them away quickly as a door opens and the sound of music barrels through the air. There are footsteps. Alice looks over her shoulder and sees Julia. She sits down next to Alice.

“Are you okay?”

“No.” There's a sob. She tries to choke it back but it tumbles out from her lips and before she even realises that she's done it, Julia's arm is around her shoulder. She pulls her close. Alice buries her face in Julia's chest. Julia smells like vanilla and beer, and Alice allows herself to cry.

“I just wanted to save my brother.”

“I know.” Julia holds her tight. Her hand rubs gently circles across Alice's back.

“It should've worked. It was going to work,” Alice says. “If Quentin hadn't.” She pulls back from Julia and yet still somehow stays close. “If he hadn't interferred then I could've...”

“He was just trying to protect you.”

“I don't need him to protect me.”

“I know.”

“He interferred and it cost me my one chance to save my brother.”

“I'm sorry.” Julia's hands cup her cheeks. She leans in and presses a gentle kiss against Alice's forehead. They lean into each other. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Alice sleeps. It's restless and without comfort or relaxation, but she sleeps. Fen brings her food and water at least twice a day. By day two Alice feels well enough to eat something, by day three most of the pain has subsided and by day four she feels strong enough to get out of bed.

She's dirty. Fen has done her best to wash away the blood and the dirt but what Alice really needs is a bath. Fen shows her the metal tub in the room next door. Hands her a bar of soap and rough towel, and then leaves her.

Alice lies in the warm water. She allows it to wash over her, to create a cocoon around her as she momentarily drops below to the surface. She grabs the sponge that Fen has left her and the bar of soap and scrubs every inch of her body.

She climbs out and as she grabs the towel she catches a glimpse of her reflection in one of the metal taps. She almost doesn't recognise herself. Her face looks thin and drawn. There are bags under her eyes and her body is covered in bruises that have turned a sickly yellow and angry red welts.

She looks small and fragile, and broken.

Alice turns away. She grabs the towel, wraps it around her body and quickly heads back to her room. She grabs her clothes – Fen brought back jacket, as well as her shoes and socks. She gets dressed. She grabs the knife and shoves it into her jacket pocket.

She heads outside and the sun hits her face. Alice's blinks. It's harsh and bright, and it hurts her eyes. There's a stone path that leads away from the house with a small lines of flowers on either side. Alice walks down it.

“You're leaving?”

Alice turns around. She sees Fen coming around the side of the house with a basket in her hand.

There's a look of disappointment on her face and Alice has to look away.

“Er, yeah. Thank you for everything you've done for me the last few days, but I need to get going now. Thank you.”

“Okay.”

Alice turns and walks down the path again.

“You're going to get yourself killed.”

Alice ignores the comment and continues to walk, after a moment she hears footsteps behind her, following her.

“You can't kill the squid. ” Fen says.

“I have to try.”

“Why? Why is this so important to you?”

Alice doesn't answer.

“Who did you lose?”

Now Alice stops.

“What?”

“You have this look in your eye. You lost someone, who was it?”

“That's none of your business.”

“Was it the squid? Because killing it won't make you feel any better, it won't make the grief go away and it won't bring them back.”

There such a seriousness to Fen's voice that Alice can't stop herself from laughing. The laughter almost turns to sobs. But Alice chokes them down.

“Julia. Her name's Julia. She was my girlfriend and she was murdered.”

“By the squid?”

“No. By the Beast.”

“I can't stay here,” Alice says. She forces herself to pull away from Julia and stands up. She turns away and starts to walk towards the cabin.

Julia follows her.

“Alice, Alice wait, please.”

Julia's hand is on her wrist. She doesn't grip it tight, or try to pull her back. She just allows her fingers to rest against Alice's skin as they walk. Eventually Alice stops on her own.

“I came to Brakebills to save my brother and now he's gone. There's no reason for me to be here anymore.”

“There are plenty of reasons.”

“Name one.”

Julia hesitates. Her lips quiver as she looks at everything but Alice.

“See.”

Alice walks away. She takes maybe ten or fifteen steps before Julia speaks again.

“Me.”

Alice stops.

“What?”

“You should stay for me.” Julia walks towards her. “There are plenty of reasons for you to stay here. To learn, to grow, to be a great Magician because I know that you're going to be. But honestly, I want you to stay for me.”

“You don't need me, Julia. You're Professor Fogg's favourite and you're a natural.”

“That's not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean.”

Julia moves closer. Her hands come up and gently cups Alice's cheeks. Their noses brush together and Alice holds her breath.

“I'm going to kiss you now,” Julia says.

Alice nods her head.

Julia slowly leans in and kisses her. It's soft and gentle, and Alice feels a shiver run down her spine. She sinks into Julia. Her hands come up and grasp at Julia's shoulders.

Then Julia pulls back.

“There's something between us and I think that it could be really good. But if you leave now, we'll never get a chance to find out and I want to find out, Alice, because the way I feel when I'm around you it's... I've never felt like this before, not even with James and I loved him, I did. But with you it's different... So maybe I'm being selfish and if I am then I'm sorry, but I'm asking you to stay, for me. To be with me.”

Alice can see the shock on Fen's face, as she takes a step back and the basket almost tumbles from her hand.

“The... The Beast?”

“Yeah. He killed her, right in front of me.”

“So... So why go after the squid?”

“I made a deal with Ember.”

“Ember? The Ember?”

Alice nods her head. “If I pass his test, if I prove myself worthy. If I kill the squid then he's going to bring her back to life.”

“Resurrection,” Fen mutters.

“That's why I have to go. The sooner I kill the squid, the sooner I get her back.”

“And what if the squid kills you?”

“We'll be together either way.” Alice turns.

“Wait! Let me help you.”

“You can't help me, Fen.”

“Of course I can.”

“How?”

“I'll make you a knife. One that will give you a better chance of killing the squid than the one you have now.”

It takes three days. Alice spends most of her time in the workshop with Fen as she makes the knife. Both of them avoiding Fen's father who seems more than a little annoyed by Alice's continued presence. Fen asks her questions, about Ember, about Julia, and sometimes Alice answers. But most of the time she sits silently and Fen, somehow, seems to understand. She fills the silences with chatter, and for that Alice is grateful.

She's even more grateful when on the third day she heads into the workshop and Fen offers her the knife with a smile.

Alice holds it in her hand. It feels light, she gives it a few practice swipes and it’s so much easier to manoeuvre, and she wonders if Ember gave her the other knife in a deliberate attempt to hamper her.

“Thank you,” Alice says.

“You're welcome.”

“I wish I had something to give you in return.”

“It's a gift.”

Then Alice realises, she does have something. She reaches into her pocket and takes out Ember's knife. She hands it to Fen.

“Ember gave it to me. I imagine it's probably worth something to a knife maker. Take it. If you're right about the fluting knife then I won't need it. Take it, please, as a thank you.”

“Okay.” Fen takes a knife and then throws her arms around Alice's neck and hugs her tight. “I hope you get what you want.”

-----

Alice stands on the side of the lake. The knife that Fen gave her is clenched in her hand. Her grip is tight. The sun is still out, just. It hovers over the horizon, casting a deep orange hue across the surface of the water.

Alice stares down into the depths. There's no sign of the squid. She takes off her jacket once again, but this time she doesn't step into the lake. She drops it onto the ground and places the knife on top.

She casts.

Alice brings her hands down in a swooping motion and an invisible force slams into the surface. There's a splash. Water showers down onto Alice. She does it again, and again, until she's soaked and then takes a step back.

She waits.

“Come on.”

She hits the water again and then finally she sees it. Movement beneath the water. She quickly grabs the knife and holds it in front of her. There's a flicker of yellow and a tentacle breaks the surface. It shoots towards her.

Alice manages to sidestep it. She brings the blade down and drives it into the tentacle. There's a squirt of green blood as she pulls back. It hits the ground. There's a hiss and smoke rises from the ground. It's acid.

The tentacle quickly pulls back and disappears back into the water. Everything goes quiet. Alice's hands shake as she continues to stare at the lake, searching for any sign of the squid. She sees nothing. She takes a tentative step forward and then another. Her feet just inches away from the water.

There's another splash. Alice doesn't see the tentacle but she feels the suckers around her ankle, the pinchers digging in. She’s yanked onto her back and pulled under the water.

Alice struggles.

She tries to spin, to angle herself so that she can drive the knife into the tentacle. She can't reach. Another tentacle wraps itself around her chest. She stabs at it, over and over, the green blood spurting out into the water. Alice can feel a painful tingle on her skin.

The tentacle hasn't let go. It squeezes and she sees the squid's eyes in front of her.

Alice stops struggling. She allows the squid to pulls her closer. It's mouth opens and she sees the long row of teeth and it's large, throbbing tongue. Her skin is burning. The squid's grip on her ankle and chest get even tighter, and Alice thinks she feels something crack, a rib maybe. But she continues to wait and when she's close enough she drives it knife deep into the squid's eye.

It screeches.

The vibrations ripple out across the water and Alice pushes harder. The knife disappears into the squid's eye and then so does her own hand.

The tentacles let go and Alice pulls her hand back. The squid is still screeching and it's tentacles flail wildly. It's in pain. Real pain, she knows that, but she doesn't stop. She swims forward. The squid doesn't try to stop her.

She drives the knife into the squid's other eye.

Alice swims back to the surface, then grabs the edge of the lake and pulls herself out. She rolls over and sees the squid floating upwards. It's not moving. It's tentacles are sprayed around it, it's eyes gauged out.

It's dead.

-----

“I need a temple,” Ember says as he plucks one of the the little cakes that Alice has brought him – the easiest of her trials so far. “To perform the ritual. I'll need a temple. There's a nice one, just passed the wailing forest that I'm rather fond of it. You will get it ready for me.”

“Okay. I can, I can do that.”

“Excellent. Off you go.”

Alice watches with disgust as Ember grabs a handful of cakes and shoves them into his mouth. She leaves quickly.

Alice chooses not to walk through the forest, instead she goes around it. The sun beats down on her and for a moment she can feel herself smile. She's so close now.

Alice's neck aches. Her back rests against the bottom of the sofa as she leans over the pile of books spread out across the table in front of her. She lets out a sigh. She's tired and aching, and the words in front of her no longer make any sense. She takes off her glasses and rubs at her eyes. She yawns. Her body is crying out for sleep, but she just grabs another book and drags it towards her.

“Here,” Julia says, as she walks towards the sofa with a cup of something hot in her hand.

Alice thinks it's coffee and she happily takes the mug, grateful for the caffeine boost but when she takes a sip she realises it's just herbal tea.

“You need to sleep.”

“I need to study.”

“You're exhausted.”

“And I'll be exhausted for the next couple of days. Ask me a question,” Alice says. She grabs one of the books and thrusts it into Julia's arms.

“Really?”

“Yeah. The test is in two days...”

“And you're going to pass, with ease.”

“I have to be sure. I need to know that I'm retaining the information, so please, just pick a page and ask me a question.”

“Okay.”

Julia skims through the book a couple of times before stopping on a random page.

“How do you conjure a self-contained ball of light?”

“Erm...” Alice closes her eyes and after a moment manages to pull the answer from somewhere in the back of her mind. “You use Chonsky's Glonney.”

“Correct.” Julia skims through the book again. “The best way to remove a curse from an object?”

This answer comes easier.

“There is no single spell that can be used to remove a curse instead you must adapt your counter curse to each particular circumstance.”

“See, you know this.”

Julia closes the book and places it back onto the table.

“Just one more,” Alice says.

“Okay.” Julia hesitates for a moment. She doesn't pick up another book, instead she shifts a little closer to Alice. She reaches out and cups her cheek. “Do you love me?”

“What?”

“Do you love me?”

Suddenly the door is thrown open and there's a high-pitched laugh as Margo stumbles into the cottage with a bottle of vodka in her hand. Margo looks around with slightly glassy eyes. Her laugh gets louder when she sees Alice and Julia.

Alice pulls back.

“Whoops,” she says and takes another swig off her vodka. “Sorry lovebirds, didn't mean to interrupt.”

Eliot steps into the cottage and slams into Margo's back, quickly followed by Quentin.

“Hey guys,” Julia says.

“Hey.” Eliot reaches around Margo and plucks the bottle out of her hand, which he happily shares with Quentin.

“We're just going to head upstairs. Get out of the way so that you two can do whatever it is that geeks do.” Margo brings her fingers together in a way that's obviously meant to be crude.

Alice blushes.

“Come on.” Margo grabs Eliot's hand, who in turn grabs Quentin's and she pulls the two of them towards the stairs.

Alice waits until the sound of their laughter fades.

“What do you think is going on between the three of them?” Alice asks.

“I don't know. But as long as Q is happy then I'm in favour of it.” Julia turns and looks at Alice. “Come here.”

Julia places her hands on Alice's shoulders and with a little pressure gets Alice to turn around. Julia rubs her neck. Her fingers knead at the skin in a way that helps relieve some of the tension that has settled in Alice's muscles. She moves her hands up, places her fingers against Alice's temples and moves in small, gentle semi-circles, and the head-ache that has been on the horizon starts to fade.

“Better?” Julia asks.

“Yeah.” Alice leans back against her as she allows her eyes to close. “I do.”

“Do what?”

“Love you.”

“Well that's good, because I love you too.”

“Hey. Hey, Alice!”

Alice turns around and is surprised to see Fen running towards her. She lifts up her hand and waves.

“Hi.”

“Hey, Fen.”

“You did it. You killed the unkillable squid. So where is she, your girlfriend. Is she back?”

“Not yet. There one more thing I have to do. Ember says he needs a temple, to perform the ritual in. There's meant to be one just beyond the forest.”

Fen's eyebrows quirk upwards.

“Ember and Umber's old temple.”

“Yeah.”

“You want to use that one?”

“Yes, why? What's wrong with it?”

Fen leads Alice up the stone steps. The moss that grows out of the cracks in the stone crunches underneath her feet. The wooden doors are rotten. A piece comes loose and falls as Fen fights to push open the door. It's stuck. The two of them have to work together to force it open. Alice regrets it immediately. The most rotten smell barrels out of the temple. Alice covers her nose and mouth but it's too late, she quickly steps away and unloads the contents of her stomach onto the grass.

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah. This place hasn't been used in a while.”

After a few breaths of fresh air, and then a few more. Alice steps into the temple. The smell is overwhelming, like rotten wood or paper, but she manages to control her stomach this time.

It's pitch black.

Alice lifts up her hands and moves her fingers in the exact pattern that she needs to and a ball of light appears in her hands. She throws it into the air and the temple is illuminated. Alice's eyes go wide.

“This is going to be harder than I thought.”

-----

The sound of Ember's hooves echo around them as he takes his time examining every inch of the temple. Alice isn't concerned. It's taken her weeks of work but the place is emaculate. She’s polished the golden columns at least three times, scraped centuries worth of dirt and muck from between the stone tiles, painted and glossed the wooden beams that run along the ceiling, replaced the wooden doors, with a little help from Fen.

There's no way Ember can find fault.

“Okay, I've done what you asked. Now bring Julia back.”

Ember ignores her. He continues to move around the temple.

“This is remarkable.”  

Alice feels a sense of relief.

“But you fail.”

For a moment his words don't register. It's like her brain just freezes and there's nothing but white noise in her ears. Then she realises. It hits her like a blow to the chest.

“No! No, I did everything you asked. I killed the lizard, I slayed the squid and I gave you your temple, I did everything you asked me to. I passed your tests.”

“You used magic.”

“I'm a Magician.”

“I told you when you first came to me with this request that it was a gift, that you would have to prove yourself worthy of it. You used magic to complete your tasks, you took the easy path. You have shown yourself to be unworthy and because of that, Miss Wicker will remain dead.” Ember heads towards the door.

“No. No, please. Just give me another chance. Please, Ember. Please!

Ember stops.

“I need her.” There's a quiver in her voice. A sob wedges in the back of her throat. “Please. Whatever you want, I'll do it. Just please, bring her back.”

Ember turns to look at her and a smile stretches across his face.

“I must be feeling rather merciful today,” Ember says. “In order to perform the resurrection spell there is a particular ingredient I will need. It is difficult to procure. If you succeed in bringing it to me without the use of magic, then I will consider resurrecting Miss Wicker.”

“What do you need me to do?”

-----

Alice hears the buzzing long before she sees the pixie. Her hands grip tight onto the branch of the tree she’s climbed. She sits there, hidden by an abundance of green leaves and watches as the pixie flies over the field, sprinkling dust over the crops. Her wings shine under the sunlight, changing colour – pink, red, purple, blue – as they move. The pixie is singing. Alice doesn't recognise the song but it's pleasant and sweet, it's voice is almost hypnotic.

Alice sits and listens. She stays there until her legs begin to go numb and then she climbs down, the rough bark of the tree rubbing against the palms of her hands. She moves slowly, cautiously. She doesn't want to alert the pixie to her presence until she's ready.

That doesn't seem to be a problem. The pixie is so focused on the job she's doing that she doesn't even notice Alice until she's right behind her. She turns just as Alice reaches out. There's a scream as Alice grabs her and she's forced to place her hand over the pixie's mouth.

“I'm sorry,” Alice says.

She reaches for the pixie's wings, grasps it with her thumb and forefinger. It feels so delicate. Her hands shake. Alice feels sick and bile creeps up the back of her throat. The pixie struggles against her palm as she pulls.

There's another buzz. It louder than the one before and Alice stops. She looks over her shoulder and sees a swarm of pixies on the horizon. She looks down at the one in her hand. She's no longer struggling. Instead she's looking up at Alice.

The swarm of pixies is closer now and Alice is in no doubt, they're heading towards her.

She lets go of the pixie and it immediately flies towards her. Her claws dig into Alice's cheek. It rips her skin and immediately there's blood. Alice tumbles backwards.

The pixie's claws dig into her back. Alice lets out a cry. She scurries back to her feet and tries to shake the pixie off. The buzzing is getting louder, the swarm of pixies are getting closer. Alice runs.

The ground is uneven beneath her feet. She stumbles and trips, and scrambles back to her feet, over and over again. She slams her way through branches and bushes. At some point she manages to shake off the pixie, probably when she ends up rolling down a small hill. The buzzing has stopped, but Alice still runs.

She runs and runs until she finds herself back outside the temple. She collapses down onto the steps. Her heart is beating fast. Her breath coming in short, sharp pants. She looks up at the temple and she knows. She's come back empty handed

Alice wraps her arms around her legs and places her head against her knees. She knows Ember will find her soon and it will be over.

She hears the buzzing again. She lifts up her head and sees the pixie hovering in front of her face.

“I'm sorry,” Alice says. “I don't want to hurt you but I don't have a choice.”

The pixie moves closer and Alice can see her face. The frown on her lips, the furrow of her thick eyebrows.

“I need your wings for a spell. My girlfriend, she was... She was murdered and I need to get her back.”

“It sounds beautiful.”

“You're beautiful,” Julia says. She leans forward and gently kisses Alice's lips. Julia pulls her close and Alice sinks into her.

There's the creak of a door. Julia's fingers are in Alice's hair. Her lips are so soft and her body so warm. Alice doesn't want to pull back, but there are footsteps and somebody clears their throat.

“Are you guys ready?” Quentin asks. He doesn't look at them, his gaze is fixed on the floor just in front of his feet. His arms folded across his chest.

“Can you give us another minute, Q? Please?” Julia says.

“Sure.” He casts a quick glance in Alice's direction before he steps out of the room.

Julia turns back to Alice.

“Whatever happens next, I need you to know that I love you,” Julia says.

“Of course I know that. I love you too.”

“No, Alice. I need you to understand. I... Love... You. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand.” And Alice does. She really, really does and it makes her grab at Julia's shoulder and pull her in for another kiss.

They don't seperate until Margo bangs on the door and shouts at them.

“Come on, lovebirds. Lets get this over with!”

Julia's forehead rests against Alice's. She holds her gaze and strokes along Alice's cheek before offering her a smile that Alice knows is just a little forced.

They stand up and step out of the room with their hands clasped between them.

It happens in an empty classroom. They pull a mirror into the centre of the room and Alice draws the summoning circle around it in white chalk. It takes a while and Alice ignores the impatient mutterings of the others and focuses on Julia's hand on her shoulder.

The closeness is reassuring.

Finally she finishes and they all stand around the mirror; Julia and Alice, Margo and Eliot, Kady and Penny, and Quentin directly in front of it.

“So we're really doing this?” Penny asks. “We're going to summon the Beast.”

“We don't have a choice,” Quentin says.

“I could not summon the Beast.”

“If we don't do this then other people are going to die. Could you live with that?” Julia looks at him and unexpectedly Penny backs down.

“Suppose not.” He takes a flask out of his pocket and takes a swig before handing it to Kady, who takes her own. “Might as well go down in a blaze.”

“Right, well if all of the protests are over, lets fucking do this!” Margo announces with a clap of her hands.

It's a massacre.

Quentin goes down first, the Beast slitting his throat with a non-chalant flick of his wrist. Julia screams. It's raw; full of pain and anguish, and grief. She tries to run to him but Alice holds her back. Instead it's Eliot that gathers Quentin's lifeless body in his arms and the Beast dispatches of him, as well, a moment later.

Margo is next.

She loses control when Eliot dies. She jumps out from her hiding place and hits the Beast with everything she has, every offensive spell she's every learnt. Julia and Alice join her. The three of them together force him back towards the mirror. Then Julia is hit with a blast. It sends her flying across the room and her body seems to crumple as she drops to the floor. Alice is distracted for a moment and she's hit too. Margo is dead before either of them can get back to their feet.

Penny and Kady charge in together and they die together.

Alice looks around at the bodies of their friends and she visibly trembles. Julia's hands are on her shoulder. The only thing that stops her from collapsing to the floor in anguish.

“The mirror,” Julia says.

“What?”

Julia forces Alice to her feet. They run. The Beast turns to them and fires another blast, that hits the wall just above their heads. Julia pushes her towards the mirror.

“Go,” Julia says.

The Beast throws another blast and Julia manages to deflect it. It crashes into a nearby desk which explodes into a shower of wood and fire.

“Go,” Julia says again.

Alice steps through the mirror. The glass feels thick but wet as her right foot moves through it.

The Beast knocks Julia down. He looks at Alice and brings his hand down in the same movement that slit Quentin's throat so easily. His movements are too quick, Alice doesn't have time to react. All she can is close her eyes, grip the edge of the mirror and wait.

She takes a breath, and another, and another, and realises that she's still alive. She opens her eyes.

Her heart seems to stop when she sees Julia standing between her and The Beast.

Julia's body seems to hang in the air as blood pours from her neck. There's an emptiness in her eyes. Alice knows that she's gone, all that's left is a shell. Then Julia drops and the Beast is in front of Alice. She falls backwards, tumbles through the mirror and lands hard on her back.

In Fillory.

“She knew. She knew that she was going to die. She knew that when it came down to it, she was going to put herself between me and the Beast. That she would give up her life so that I could have mine.” Tears fall. “I love her. I love her so much and she died to save me. I need to find a way to bring her back, I need to see her again. Can you understand that?”

The pixie reaches out and brushes one of the tears away from Alice's cheek.

“I don't want to take your wings from you. I don't. But I can't just walk away from my one chance to get her back.”

The pixie moves back. She stares at Alice for a moment and then nods her head. Her wings flutter as she floats down and lands in the centre of Alice's palm. The pixie shrugs her shoulder and her wings fall from her back.

Alice gasps in surprise.

“Thank you,” she says. “Thank you.”

The pixie nods her head again and jumps down from Alice's palm. She walks away, disappearing into the long grass. Alice watches her for a moment, before standing up and heading into the temple.

-----

“There is one more trial you must face.”

Flames flicker out from the floor. Alice steps back as they grow higher and higher, and she can feel the heat on her face. Ember's hands continue to swirl as the floor disintegrates, the stone floor crumbling into dust. He creates a perfect circle.

“In order to ressurect Miss Wicker you must descend into the Underworld and bring her soul back here. It won't be easy. She may not want to come, when people pass over they lose all connection to their old life. Desire, passion, even love, it just drains out of them and they become these empty shells. The closer you get to the real world the more she'll resist, but you must make her come with you because if you don't...”

“I get it, I've got one chance. I'll bring her back.” Alice steps towards the hole in the floor. She stares down. It's pitch black, there's no hint of light. “Can I get a torch or so...”

She feels hands on her back. She's pushed forward and suddenly she's falling. The air whooshes past her ears. Her arms and legs flail. She opens her mouth to scream but no sound comes out. She hears Ember's laugh echo around her.

She hits the floor. It's spongy and she bounces slightly but still her legs buckle. She stumbles. She puts out her hands to break her fall and lands in a heap.

Alice lays on the ground. She's surrounded by darkness, by silence. All she can hear is the heavy beating of her own heart.

She pushes herself up. She stumbles about, her hands outstretched and takes a few tantative steps forward.

“Hello,” she says.

There's no response. Just the sound of her own voice, the word echoing around her, getting fainter and fainter until there's nothing but silence again. She continues to moves forward. The floor beneath her feet become harder and she feels a little more steady.

She sees a flicker of light up ahead. The tiniest of dots and she walks towards it. She keeps her arms outstretched and eventually she feels rough stone under her fingertips. 

It's a corridor. It seems to stretch on for an eternity. She walks and walks and walks, but that small flicker of light doesn't get any brighter, any bigger.

She glances over her shoulder and sees the darkness behind her, turning back isn't an option, not with what's at stake. So she keeps going. For hours, she walks until eventually the light doubles in size.

Alice stops. She stares at it, takes off her glasses and cleans them on the bottom of her shirt and then puts them back on, just to be sure. It's definitely bigger.

Alice runs.

The light gets bigger and bigger until she's standing right in front of it.

It's a torch. There's a wooden handle with a small flame placed on the wall. Alice pulls it free from the metal handle. The flame gets higher the moment she touches it and she can finally see the corridor that she's in. Large stone walls with a curved ceiling.

There's a door in front of her. She moves the torch across it. It's dirty gold with two goat heads – what she thinks is meant to be Ember and Umber – carved into it. There's no handle, just a space in the door. Hand-shaped. Alice reaches down and places her free hand into it.

There's the sound of locks turning, heavy bolts shifting inside the door. She feels a pain in her hand. Sharp claws that dig into each of her fingers. She cries out. There's blood, she can feel it drip down her hand. She tries to pull herself free but she's trapped.

Her blood pours and the locks turn, and eventually the door opens with a loud creak.

Finally the claws retract and Alice pulls her hand free. It's covered in blood. She holds it close to her chest as sharp pain throbs from the large holes in her fingers. The flesh has been ripped and torn. She tries to moves them but there's nothing.

Alice steps through the door. She swoops the torch across the room.

It's circular. There's moss and branches growing out of the wall, leaves under her feet that crunch with every step. There's a throne in the centre of the room. Solid gold, with engravings that match the door.

“Hello,” she says.

There's a flicker to her left.

Alice turns. There's a mirror wedged into the corner. She walks towards it. There's another flicker, a flash of brown hair.

“Julia.”

Alice grabs the mirror and yanks it out of the corner. She stands in front of it and holds the torch up, but there's just her reflection in the glass. She sighs. A wave of exhaustion washes over her for a moment and the torch lowers. Her blonde hair turns brown. She lifts up the torch again and it's back to blonde.

“Julia.” She slowly lowers the torch onto the floor. The person in the mirror lower it as well. The features change. Her own face slowly morphs into Julia's. She feels a sob in her chest. She presses her hands on the mirror and leans her forehead against it. “Julia, oh god, Julia. I love you.”

Julia's hair is down over her face. Her cheeks are pale, almost grey and there are huge black bags under her eyes. She looks thin and drawn, almost skeletal. Her eyes are empty. All of the colour has been drained out of them and all that's left is a murky white.

“I love you.” Julia's voice sounds far away.

“God. I never thought I'd hear you say that again.” There's a desperation in Alice's voice. “Okay, I'm... I'm going to find a way to get you out, just... Just stay there.” Alice takes a step back. There's still enough darkness that she can see Julia in the mirror, copying her actions.

“Just stay there.”

Alice looks around. Her heart is pounding. Her eyes are swimming with tears and she brushes them away as she tries to think of something. She tries to move her injured hand, but a burst of pain comes from each finger.

“A mirror. Why did it have to be a mirror?”

“Why did it have to be a mirror?”

“What?”

“What?”

“Julia.”

“Julia.”

“You're just... You’re just repeating everything I say.”

“You're just repeating everything I say.”

Alice reaches out with her non-unjured hand. Her fingers press against the glass. Julia copies her action and Alice is certain that she can feel Julia’s fingers pressing back.

“Julia. I love you and I'm going to find a way to get you out of there. I promise.”

“I promise,” Julia says. Suddenly she lifts up her head and her eyes meet Alice's. “I promise. I promise. I promise.” Julia's hand shoots through the mirror and grabs at Alice's wrist. Her skin feel cold, but her grip is tight. She tries to pull Alice forward.

“I promise. I promise.”

The mirror is no longer solid, instead it feels like water as Alice's hand passes through it. A chill spread through Alice's body.

“No,” Alice says. She plants her feet and tries to fight back. She grabs the side of the mirror. “No!” Alice pulls.

Julia flies forward. The mirror shatters and shards of glass rain down on Alice. They turn to water the moment they touch her skin. Alice hits the ground hard and the air is forced out of her lungs.

Julia lands face down a few metres from her.

“Julia,” Alice says. She picks herself up and rushes over to her. She places her hand onto Julia's arm, only for it to turn to water. “No. No, no.” Alice tries to grab for her again, tries to turn her over. But everywhere she touches turns to water. “No! No! No!”

There's nothing left of Julia except a puddle on the floor.

Alice wails. She collapses against the floor and half screams, half sobs.

She doesn't hear the laugh at first, but eventually her voice becomes hoarse and her scream becomes silent. Then she hears it. The scorn, the disdain. The derision.

Alice lifts up her head.

Ember is sitting on the throne.

“What did you do to her?” Alice asks.

Ember's laugh gets louder.

“Do you know how long it's been since I've heard a human howl, and whimper, and sob. Ever since Martin Chatwin killed my brother, I have been so busy hiding, cowering in caves and corners of the world that I created I had forgotten how much fun it could be to torment you”

“What did you do to Julia?”

“You think I care about the fate of some human. She is beneath me, you are beneath me.”

“But you said. You told me if I did what you asked then you would bring her back.”

“I lied. I suppose I should be thanking you, you have provided me with so much entertainment over the last few weeks. Julia, help me. Please, help me.” He mimicks her voice and then laughs. “I love her. I love her so much and she died to save me.”

“You bastard.” Alice jumps up. She stalks towards him and lifts her uninjured hand. She sends out a blast. It hits Ember square in the chest but he doesn't react.

His laugh gets louder.

“Do you really think you can hurt me, little Magician? Even with both your hands your power pales in comparison to mine. You can't even begin to conceive of what it would take to kill a god.”

“She died fighting The Beast, trying to stop The Beast. He murdered her just like he murdered your brother.”

“Gods do not care about the deaths of humans.”

“I'm going to make you care.”

Ember laughs again.

Alice can feel the tears streaming down her face. She lifts up her hand. This time she doesn't aim for Ember, instead she aims for the ceiling, the spot in the middle where the curved arches meet. She fires a blast.

The room shakes. Dust falls from the ceiling and a crack appears in the stone.

“What are you doing?!”

Alice fires another blast.

A piece of stone dislodges and falls onto Ember's head. He jumps up from his throne.

“Stop this! Stop this at once!”

Alice fires another blast and another and another. Ember lets out a scream as the ceiling collapses down onto them.

-----

Alice coughs. Her face is covered in dirt and a cloud of dust puffs out from her mouth. She pushes aside a piece of rubble and the sunlight hits her face. She crawls towards it, drags herself out from the remnants of the temple.

A crowd has gathered nearby. Alice can't see their faces. Her vision is blurry, her glasses lost somewhere in the now destroyed temple. They're just a mass of bodies. Somebody breaks from the crowd.

“Alice.”

She recognises Fen's voice.

“Oh my god. Alice, are you alright?” Fen's hands grip her shoulder and pulls her the rest of the way out. “What happened in there?”

Alice turns and looks at the now demolished temple. Her last chance to save Julia, to bring her back snatched away by the cruelty of a God. She grasps onto Fen's arm and clings to her as she cries.

Her heart shatters.

[pepper---chase]

bathwater - self para.

i watch the bathwater drain, it’s never looked quite the same the weight comes back to my body, and i’m hopeless again.

Pepper stares at the wall of the shower, sunk into the water of the tub. She’s in Jordan’s bathroom, not sure if she can get away with opening up a razor and taking a blade. She settled for two minutes of shocking heat, scalding water and heavy steam, ripping the air out of her lungs. Now, it’s cool, soothing the skin on her back as she leans her head against the tile. She looks around the bathroom as she soaks in the water, contaminated by leftover sex and sweat and guilt and shame and self-loathing. The mirror features a few Victoria’s Secret underwear stickers. They haven’t been there long. Probably purchased since they started fucking. Her retainer case is hot pink with holographic Hello Kitty stickers, much more worn than the hearts on the mirror. There’s a bottle of Summer’s Eve on the counter. Pepper knows that Jordan knows it’s not good for her vaginal health, but even beautiful, shiny people like Jordan worry sometimes, look in the mirror and see a problem or think does my vagina smell good enough for someone to like me? To love me? The toilet is not much different from Pepper’s on the outside. Porcelain, white. But no one kneels in front of it to seek answers, help, perfection, acceptance. No one uses the pink toothbrush in the cup on the counter for anything other than brushing their teeth. And the razor is still a normal razor, used religiously for armpits and legs and a somewhat razor-burned mons pubis, never deconstructed for pain. Pepper wriggles down into the water, submerging her face, and listens to the heaviness of the water, her sins mingled with shampoo and Jordan’s Lush shower gel. She tries to let it strip away the memory of Jordan’s fucks and pleases and the drawn out yeee-eeeee-eee-ssss, the feeling of her heart fluttering, just barely, while Jordan kissed the back of her neck, fingers gently brushing her side, the adoration that constantly radiates from her stupid unconditionally-loving face. She tries to forget all of that, make it not real. Because she has to be loyal to Hanna or because she has to punish herself? She opens the drain and turns the shower back on, rinses the remaining soap and that question. She puts her hair in a wet ponytail, uses the toothbrush as it was intended,-- she can’t bring herself to defile what seems so pure-- puts on a pair of Jordan’s sleep shorts and a sweatshirt, and crawls back into her bed. 

i watch the twists and the turns, distract me from where it hurts it’s like i’m watching my life go past the point of return.

She wonders if her defibrillator has gone off in the past few minutes, sitting in a different tub, pink water and fragrant fizz and glitter surrounding the loosely-bound collection of bones and organs and newly bleached hair. She can’t get comfortable. If she moves to where her scapulae don’t dig into the porcelain, she’s too deep in the water and when things go south, she could slip and start drowning and add a whole new element to something that needs to be quick and nearly painless. She picks the knife up and puts it down about twenty times in the span of just one song. Every time I close my eyes, it’s like a dark paradise. Her phone speakers are maxed out, turned to the wall in an attempt for amplification. She doesn’t know if she’s going to cry or start freaking out or what, but if there’s any noise other than her femoral artery emptying, she doesn’t want anyone but her and God and maybe Hanna to hear it. She’s done this hundreds of times, just less severe. Shallow, quickly scabbed over, or slightly deeper, tiny white scars to remind her. Why is it so hard to 1) pick up knife 2) find the spot under her hipbone where this stupid thing should be 3) stab hard and deep, fast, get it over with 4) lean back, close eyes 5) die? The plan seemed perfect. She’s come this far. Stole the key card from Jordan, walked right out the back door to the garage, hailed a cab. Bought a bleaching kit, a new nose ring, and a Lush Pink bomb and Creamy Candy bubble bar, a ride to Montauk and a hotel room electronically. Thanks, Apple Pay. She went down to the beach, shivered the whole time, sweater pulled tight around her shoulders, wind breaking off the waves and pushing against her. ( Get out of here. Turn back. ) She went in the old ice cream store, just reopened a month ago during spring break, ordered a scoop of cinnamon toast and a scoop of blueberry muffin in a waffle cone, but it didn’t taste the same as it did when Hanna sat across from her and made fun of the inevitable smear of ice cream on her nose. She went back to the hotel, re-bleached her hair, opened the doors to the balcony and took a nap with the sea breeze blowing in on her. Ordered room service, three Belgian waffles with cream, blueberries, bananas, bacon. Tried to eat it. Enjoy it. The calories won’t matter when you’re dead. Her stomach twisted up. She got through one waffle and the blueberries before screaming curses at the entire fucking plate and her stupid digestive system and her stupid brain and God and whoever else was to blame for everything. Took a deep breath. Started the water, lowered herself in gently, placing the large knife from the room service tray on the side of the tub. Put in the bath bomb, listened to the playlist she’d made in the cab. ( Eyelids. Ride. Young and Beautiful. Together. The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face. Dark Paradise. Teen Idle. Medicine. Lonely Hearts Club. Control. Chandelier. Heavy In Your Arms. A Little Fall of Rain. Over the Love. Twinkle Song. Demon Limbs. I Will Follow You Into the Dark. ) When it repeated, she added more hot water, crumbled the bubble bar. Tried to be ready. She stares at the knife now, still concentrating. Do it. Do it. Fucking do it. What about HeatherAliceGinaJordan what about KarlBrett what about TinkaHeatherGreene what about Tess what about you what about you what about NO. She digs the heels of her hands into her eyes. The soap stings. That’s why her eyes water. That’s why tears start rolling. That must be why. “They’ll be better off without me,” Her voice is weak, barely audible even to her. “They deserve better than me.” whataboutyou “I deserve nothing.” No food, no kindness, no love. She looks up at the ceiling. “Help me!” She’s glad the music is loud. “I know you probably hate me but that should make you want to get rid of me! Help!” She grips the knife handle so hard it hurts her hand. “I want it!” Want what? To die or to live? “I want-- I want--” It won’t come out. “I WANT--!” Silence. “FUCK--!” She lets out a sob, leans over, tips of her hair dipping into the pink. “I have to do it-- I have to.” She repeats the mantra, tries to compose herself as she does ( ihavetoihaveto. ihavetoihaveto. ) She sees two futures in the water. One, stained with blood. Heather splitting open the skin on her knuckles, unable to cry anymore. Alice in the basement with stockpiled alcohol. Gina putting those old walls back up. ( ithinkmymom-- ) Jordan crying for weeks, months, that same horrible noise that came out in her bedroom. The other future is more distant. Heather having lunch with her somewhere, ordering bacon cheese fries even though she knows she’ll stare at them for ten minutes before allowing herself to eat one. Alice smiling, offering hugs and Oreos and cigarettes. She tries not to see the contrast in that and the next scene. Gina is waking up next to her, not in a twin bed. A big one, built for two. Jordan delivers a blueberry muffin to her somewhere, then says she has to go to work, runs off in scrubs and Vans Sk8-His. She blinks herself out of the alternate realities. One is what she could do. The other is what she could have. What she could be. She turns the knife over. Nearly drops it. FOCUS. ( ihavetoihaveto. ) She lifts herself up slightly tries to find the place. Femur to hip. The bones are easy to find-- the 100 on the anatomy test flashes back-- nothing but greatness is expected of you from now on! The blood vessel must be close. DO IT. She tries to aim. ( ithinkmymomkilledherself ) She slips back down, water hitting her in the face. The knife splashes into the pink, right between her legs. Stop--! ...You have to stay. She carefully finds the knife handle, tears blinking out fast, and slams it down on the edge of the tub. Hanna, somewhere above, breathes a sigh of relief. Pepper answers the question. “I-- want to live.” The words are so soft she’s not sure she said them, not sure she thought them. But she’s still sitting there when Jordan busts through the door, looks in and sees her, flings the knife across the room, nearly dives in the bathtub to hold her. She’s still there.

Pepper drops a Cheer Up Buttercup bomb in the tub after yoga. She carefully covers the new tattoos, a band-aid on her stomach underscored by the words i forgive you, and a slice of pizza on her ankle, then stands on the scale. She writes 106 on the mirror with a dry erase marker, adds a smiley face and hearts. She slips into the yellow foam carefully, exhaling. The words from the meditative instructor linger, always in the back of her head, mixing with those of her therapist. Release anything that is no longer serving you. -- Let yourself enjoy things. Give your body whatever it tells you it needs. -- Love yourself enough to decide you deserve more. She runs her hands along her body under the water. Feels a small roundness under her ribs. A tummy, she calls it, not gross, not ugly. Enough flesh to say I’m healthy. There are abs building above it and underneath it. It’s just a slight slope from her ribs to the top of her pants when she’s dressed, looking at it through a mesh top in the mirror. She keeps feeling. Two thighs, muscular now, toned, but they set off an alarm in the back of her mind when she sits down in shorts or leggings. She has to override, shut it off. They are fine. They’re strong, and there’s more than enough room for Gina to get between them when she wants to. You. Are. Doing. Great. You. Are. Good. She finds her breasts, no longer a pair of nipples on a ribcage. Real ones. 36A, but real. Hers. She finds her thighs again, moves up, closes her eyes. A gentle touch from her hand. She doesn’t imagine Hanna now. Doesn’t hate herself  after. Acts of kindness for Pepper by Pepper don’t have to be apologies for the past or encouraging thoughts. Sometimes she just sits in the bathtub and her fingers travel along her body and she takes the time to feel it. She stands up after the water is cold and rinses her hair, her body, dries off, flops down in front of the couch. She waits for Gina. Rests her hands on the small sloping tummy. What she has. What she is. 

[high5nerd]

Alone Together---Chap. Four

The following day was a Saturday, so Sadie woke up at seven thirty to watch television and have Alice's special breakfast of Saturday flapjacks. It was kind of endearing seeing them wake up to the new day. It brought a strange of feeling of warmth into my heart, or at least where it should be.

Sadie woke up groggily, rubbing her light blue eyes to get the sleep out and almost stumbling in her pink nightgown. Once she was halfway down the hallway, she noticed my presence and held up her hands.

"What is it?" I asked, raising a brow. Did she need another hug? She should know by now I wasn't into hugging or any physical touch at all. Affection like that was sickening.

"Bring me to the table." she mumbled, holding back a yawn.

I let out a bark of laughter, causing Alice to look up at the sound. She smiled, rolled her eyes and continued sliding another large flapjack around in the pan and flipping it expertly.

"What makes you think I'll do that, little one?" I put my hands on my hips, giving her a challenging eye.

She grinned widely and puffed out her chest, "Because I'm the princess of this household! And it is by royal degree-!"

"Decree." I corrected.

"-that you do what I tell you to do!" Sadie finished, completely awake now.

I folded my arms, contemplating her reasoning. She's such a child. I finally sighed exasperatedly, picked her up and swung her over my shoulder, causing her to squeal.

"You didn't clarify how you wanted to be delivered to the table, your Highness." I grinned as she flopped into the chair. Sadie beamed up at me before setting her big eyes on the plate of buttered and syrupy flapjacks Alice set there. I watched Sadie wolf down the fluffy breakfast, and then I looked up at her sister.

I didn't expect our eyes to meet, so we both quickly looked away, or at least I did. I don't know what caused me to look away. Maybe it was the modesty since she was still in sleep clothes or her hair was messy. I don't know…

"Did you sleep well, Pitch?" Alice asked anyway, causing me to look back at her.

I had to straighten myself out. I wasn't acting like myself. Where was the regality I possessed? The smoothness, the swiftness, everything that once defined me? It all melted away when this mortal was around, leaving some sort of mumbling fool that I didn't know was me. It was out of my character, and I hated it immensely. I still do to this very day. I will not allow Alice to see that.

"I slept just fine after finishing my nightmare duties. And you?" I coolly looked at her, but I heard Sadie hold back a giggle. I shot a look at her, and Sadie grinned wider.

"Ignore her. She's always hyper on Saturday mornings." Alice waved her hand in Sadie's direction, who huffed in response to that.

"I can tell," I grinned, and she smiled in return.

"I slept pretty well, actually. Usually I don't sleep very well most nights. Probably because I work a lot." she shrugged as if it wasn't an important matter.

I felt my brows knit together in worry, "That's not healthy. You should get more rest, even in daylight. I promise I won't give you nightmares if you rest."

Alice laughed at that, making this prickling feeling dot across my cheeks. This feeling felt like fire, as if someone held a candle close to my face so I could feel the heat of the flame, right across the bridge of my nose, my cheeks and the tips of my ears.

"Stop laughing at him, Alice. He's blushing." Sadie said, looking at me worriedly.

Alice immediately stopped laughing, trying to be respectful, "I'm sorry! It's just that what you said isn't what I normally hear. But thank you for the promise."

I shrugged, "I don't normally offer that. At all."

"Aw, then it's a high honor!" she teased, winking at me.

I gruffly muttered something under my breath, looking away so she wouldn't see the blush on my face again. I bet I looked ridiculous. I used to be something feared! Where did all that go?!

Sadie seemed to save my hide, because she quickly finished her breakfast, cleaned her plate and then tugged me over to the television.

"Sadie, you're a greedy little girl." Alice gently scolded, putting on her jacket to go back and work a shift at the bookstore.

"I am not! I just want my friend sitting next to me when we watch a movie. You can have him when you get home." Sadie stuck out a childish tongue at her, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

Her sister sighed tiredly, before looking at me with those adorable eyes of hers, "You don't mind, do you? I was going to call a babysitter-"

"No, it's fine," I waved away her excuse, "you go earn that fat paycheck. I'll be here forced to watch Barbie movies."

"Ha!" Alice laughed, slamming a beanie over her hair, "I taught her better taste. Enjoy some good ol' Disney classics."

Now, normally I would never succumb to a children themed movie. I honestly dreaded the thought of Snow White or Little Mermaid, but Sadie ended up wanting to watch some movie called the Lion King, followed by the second movie and then...a one in a half? That's a strange title. Movies can't be cut in half. Odd. There's so much I need to know about the mortal world than I thought. But quite honestly I enjoyed it somewhat, the idea of lions acting like it's a battle of the land and throne. Immediately I recognized this relation to another great piece of work written by Shakespeare, Hamlet. I knew this entire movie was based off of that play, so I was impressed.

Halfway through watching a scene of two lions tumbling down a hill during some song, Sadie turned to me and asked a very blunt question.

"Do you like my sister?" she asked, and I could just barely see the corners of her mouth rotate upward into a disguised smile.

I nodded, "She's a nice person. I haven't met a nice person like her in a very long time-"

"I mean, do you like-like her?" Sadie asked again, and I could tell by her attitude she thought I was dumb.

Alright, maybe I was a little bit ignorant. I pointed out that just because she added the same word in front of the original doesn't make it any more important. She groaned and flopped onto her back, landing right onto the cushions that fell off the couch.

"Pitch!" she exclaimed, "Do you have a crush on my sister or not?!"

I stammered, "W-what?! Who do you think you are of accusing me of such-!"

Sadie leaned back up and her expression was almost amusing. She was imitating the same look Alice used as if to say, 'no nonsense.' I sucked in air through my teeth and looked back to the screen to see some baboon talking to Simba. Hopefully my blush would look like a reflection of the screen or something.

"I don't." I muttered, "Aren't you kind of young to ask something like that?"

Sadie smiled, excited, "It's fun to talk about! Come on, I'm a girl. Besides, why do you always blush when she says something nice and you compliment her a lot and I always catch you staring at her and you follow her around and-!"

"Would you kindly shut your mouth!?" I snapped, causing her to immediately silence herself, her eyes wide that I was ticked off. I sighed, and then turned back to the screen, "Alright, so I do. What does it matter anyways?"

Sadie immediately brightened at that. She shot up like a lightning bolt and jumped all around, completely ignoring the movie she wanted to watch in the first place. Her hands were flying everywhere and she did so many dance moves with one burst of energy, I thought she was having a spasm that needed to be checked out at the hospital. She finally did one final whoop in the air before plopping back down onto her knees, leaning a bit too close to my face as if I were a specimen at a zoo.

"What are you gonna do? Flowers? I think you should do flowers!" Sadie dreamily sighed, "it's the most romantic thing a-!"

"I'm not doing any of that."

She stopped. It's as if my statement shattered her fantasies like broken shards of mosaic glass. But instead of getting angry about it, she gave me a curious look. "Why? Is it because you don't have any money?"

I shook my head, not really wanting to tell her why I know I'll never approach her.

"Think about it, Sadie. A spirit, who to everyone else, is invisible. You want me to be with your sister?" I asked, giving her a look that a teacher most likely would give to question the judgement of a student.

Sadie merely nodded excitedly, "Yeah!"

I sighed once more, running a hand through my hair from the stress that was slowly building up in both my chest and my head. How can this girl not get it? Spirits and mortals can't be like that. They never can. How was I to explain all this to a nine year old? I looked up at her, and noticed how she genuinely looked concerned.

"Your sister would hate me. It just...wouldn't work, okay?" I leaned against the foot of the couch once more and glued my eyes to the screen. End of discussion.

Wrong. I should have known Sadie wanted to talk more.

"How do you know? You've done nothing wrong." she said, but was surprised at how I shook my head.

"Sadie...I'm a terrible being. I killed my own family, I tried destroying the Guardians, I almost succeeded in gaining total control over the world, I threatened the life of a child and I almost killed Sandman. You think your sister would find any redemption in that?" I looked at her.

As I suspected. She was horrified. She looked heartbroken, that I was a killer in the past. She looked down at her bare toes, sadly wiggling them to distract herself for a second. She must have thought for a while, because she looked back up at me with a determined glare and said, "Yeah, you deserve forgiveness."

"You're just saying that." I rolled my eyes, but Sadie shook her head furiously.

"I'm not! Sandy told me everything. He said you were under control of evil magic when you killed people in the past, so it technically doesn't count."

"Sadie!" I shouted, angry, "I killed my own wife and the king and queen of the Constellation I lived in and I murdered countless others to gain total dominance of the universe!"

Sadie's lower lip started to tremble, and her eyes were becoming glassy. I sighed, leaning up to face her, "You need to understand that. Life isn't...life isn't just a fairytale. Call me a hypocrite because I'm literally the walking proof of it, but bad guys are never forgiven. Bad guys never get a happy ending. And...and I'm a bad guy."

Sadie's tears stopped when I said that. She looked down at her lap, her hands folded perfectly as if she was contemplating the words I said to her. I truly felt guilty I just told her the most horrifying things that happened in my life. That wasn't something I should just throw onto a child, especially one who has suffered with loss like she has.

But then she opened her hands, and inside was the stone Sandy gave me. It was a bright pink, like the shade of the lightest rose one could find. When I picked it up in my hand, there was a warmth to it that felt as if it was a living object. I could almost feel a faint pulse in the stone. I looked up at Sadie, who timidly smiled.

"You're not evil, Pitch. I know you're not. Because if you were, Sandy wouldn't have given you a second chance. If you were, you wouldn't be here. It wasn't your fault that many people died, you were being controlled. It wasn't fair. But now you can make it better...and stop wasting time." Sadie said, pointing to the rock and then to me.

I flipped over the stone, noticing how the color of light pink was on both sides. It still radiated a warmth that was inviting. I finally smirked, and a harmless chuckle escaped my throat.

"You know, little one…you're wiser than you look."

Sadie shrugged her shoulders, smiling a little bit brighter than before, "Mommy taught me that. She always believed people were good inside. Daddy taught me also that forgiveness is important, and that grudges are not worth it…" she trailed off, trying to recollect any memories of them.

I smiled, and touched her cheek reassuringly. She looked up, trying her best grin to hide her sadness that they were gone.

"You're one of the bravest kids I've ever met, Sadie. You keep on honoring your parents like that. You'll be very happy if you do." I promised her, and tapped her nose to make her smile.

She giggled and hugged me, and this time I didn't flinch at the touch like I used to. I patted her back and smiled brightly, gladly welcoming the feeling of being something close to the fatherly figure once more. I missed that parental feeling. I miss being a father…

Sadie drew back and said casually, "So are you gonna kiss my sister or not?"

[seniorbrief]

Walt Disney Reveals Just How Disneyland Was Created in Rare Interview

David F. Smith/AP/David F. Smith/AP/Shutterstock

This article was written by Ira Wolfert and originally appeared in the April 1966 issue of Reader’s Digest.

“Twenty years ago,” Walt said as we drove toward Disney­land, some 25 miles south­east of central Los Angeles, “I was always trying to think of a place to take my two small daughters on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon—a place where I could have fun, too.

“At an amusement park, the only fun provided for a father, besides having his bottom dropped out from under him on the roller coaster, was the same he enjoyed all week: Buy­ing the tickets.”

Now Walt has created his own park, to satisfy—in parents as in children—the profound human hunger to wonder, be amazed, and make believe. With that incompara­ble Disney sorcery, he has combined fantasy and history, adventure and learning in a way that sets every tendril of the imagination to tin­gling. Get a behind-the-scenes look at the first map Walt ever made of Disneyland.

From the beginning, Disney de­cided to lay out this 31-million-dollar playground like a gigantic theater. You’re in the lobby the moment you hand in your ticket: It’s Main Street, U.S.A., as it looked 50 years ago, when Walt was growing up. To the left and the right and straight ahead are the entrances to four “stages”—Adven­tureland, Frontierland, Fantasyland, and Tomorrowland. On these stages are set 45 different attractions, irresisti­ble toys more costly than an em­peror could buy.

Main Street has gaslights, hand­cranked telephones, a penny candy store with jelly beans and orange slices, and a bank where bankers (real ones) wear high stiff collars and massive watch chains and work at roll-top desks. An apothecary shop offers herb remedies and real live leeches in bottles of water. At the “Main Str. Cinema,” real (1914) Thomas A. Edison and Pearl White movies play. Only the ceilings and lighting inside the stores are mod­ern. “I’m sorry you noticed that,” said Walt disconsolately. “We had to change the gaslights here—people complained that they made the mer­chandise look too gloomy.”

At the far end of Main Street stands Fantasyland, the entrance guarded by moat-encircled Sleeping Beauty Castle. “It’s not far away,” said Walt, “but let’s have some fun getting there.” He led me to a quaint old horsecar pulled by a gleaming, burly Percheron. The driver snapped the air between his tongue and his teeth, said, “Giddy­yap,” and clanged a bell. We clip­clopped down Main Street.

The ride over, Walt explained why it had been shorter than it looked. “It’s not apparent at a casual glance,” he said, “but this street is only a scale model. We had every brick and shingle and gas lamp made five-eighths [of] true size. This cost more, but it made the street a toy, and the imagination can play more freely with a toy. Besides, peo­ple like to think that their world is somehow more grown-up than Papa’s was.”

That’s how you make people feel taller and confirm their belief in progress—if you have the genius of a Walt Disney.

David F. Smith/Shutterstock

Fantasyland, “the happiest king­dom of them all,” is a place where childhood dreams come true. Here you can go to the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party in a whirling cup and saucer; ride Dumbo, the Flying Elephant; fall down the rabbit hole with Alice in Wonderland. When you take the Peter Pan ride, sitting in a pirate galleon, you make lovely, airy swoops over rooftops that seem to lie far below. You feel the speed and the wind of your passage as, through the masterly use of tricks of perspec­tive, you soar through the inky night toward the stars.

This sort of thing could be scary for some people, but whenever it seems necessary Walt interrupts re­ality with a wink to let you know it isn’t really real. On this ride the wink comes in advance. The galleon is lifted onto its rails outside the Peter Pan building, before you go into the darkness, so you can see for yourself that it’s all going to happen only three feet off the ground.

“When you go to Frontierland, make sure that Walt takes you to Tom Sawyer’s Island,” said Dick Irvine, head designer at the Disney Studios. “Walt was brought up in Missouri—Mark Twain country—­and that island is all his. He didn’t let anybody help him design it.” Check out some more secrets Disney employees wish they could tell you.

You get to the island on a spittin’ image of the raft Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer built. All around you zip authentic keel­-boats, Indian ca­noes paddled by real Indians, and a grand gold-and­-white stem-wheel steamboat, the Mark Twain. The swift-flowing waterway is kept warm and brown, like the Mississippi River itself.

Everything on the island is free; you need a ticket only to get there. “I put in all the things I wanted to do as a kid—and couldn’t,” Walt explained. “Including getting into something without a ticket.”

So there’s a tree house to climb into and a pontoon bridge to cross, like those built in frontier days—planks laid on empty barrels that bob up and down when you walk on them. From the top of a log fort you can sight in with guns on a forest in which Indians lurk. The guns don’t fire bullets—they’re hydraulically operated—but the recoil is so real­istic that you’d never guess they aren’t the genuine article. You can fish in the water around the landing, and your chances of catching some­thing are good. A net has been hid­den there, and it is kept stocked with catfish. Fishing tackle? You borrow a bamboo pole and worms from an overalled, straw-chewing lad so freckled and friendly he looks as if Mark Twain created him.

We went into Injun Joe’s Cave. This is just a rock tunnel with a hill heaped over it, but it has been tricked out with dripping caverns and a bottomless pit (three feet deep) from which ghostly roaring emerges to curdle the blood. Here Walt has added something to the pages of Mark Twain: A series of little passageways, looping off from the main tunnel, that are just large enough for children only. The kids scoot for them like chickens for feed. There is nothing to see in them and nothing to do, but the dimen­sions are what count. There is joy and nourishment for the spirit in being alone from time to time in a space adults can’t enter—that’s what the children’s hoots and hollers pro­claim.

Uncredited/AP/Shutterstock

From Frontierland we moved on to Adventureland. “Everyone dreams of traveling to mysterious far-off places or exotic tropical re­gions,” Walt said to me. “Let’s go.” We climbed aboard a powered launch. The cruise took us down the misty Amazon, up the murky Mekong, and through the hippopota­mus-filled Congo, with tropical rain forests and bright orchids all around us. Adventure lurked at every bend; crocodiles snapped at us; bull ele­phants trumpeted; lions, tigers and headhunters eyed us suspiciously through the jungle growth.

From this primitive world it was quite a jump—mentally—to Tomor­rowland. Suddenly I found myself in the interior of a space ship, and Walt and I were about to take a ride to the moon. Actually we were in a theater. Around a giant viewing screen in the floor, the seats rose in circular tiers; in the ceiling hung another great screen. The voice of our pilot sounded over an intercom, matter-of-factly warning us to pre­pare for take-off. The lights went out. A view of the earth as seen from a launching pad appeared on the lower screen, and overhead was a full moon as seen from the earth.

Now a great shuddering and jar­ring began. Our seats and the walls and floor of the theater shook. Rockets gushed in deep-throated tones. There was a sudden, uncanny clattering—cosmic rays pelting like bullets as we passed through the ra­diation belt beyond the atmosphere. We saw the earth drop away and become round, the moon come close enough to touch, the stars and plan­ets as they look when there’s no atmosphere to dim them. All this is authentic, made of motion-picture film taken from missiles and satel­lites, from planetariums and observ­atories. The effects were so carefully worked out that the sensation of drifting in the stillness of gravity­-free space became real, too­ astounding and blissful.

“Two of the leading figures in the space field, Wernher von Braun and Willy Ley, helped us with the engi­neering of this ride,” Walt told me. But the biggest help was the father who, 20 years ago, longed to sit with his children and enjoy not just a thrill ride but also a genuine sense of wonder.

In Tomorrowland, too, is the Sub­marine Voyage, one of the most elab­orate illusions ever created. You have the sensation of being completely submerged. Actually, the craft rides on rails and only the part of the hull where you sit facing a porthole is beneath the surface.

The sub starts out under a water­fall, with water foaming and splash­ing over the portholes as over a submerging conning tower. The commands “Dive! Dive!” coming over the squawk-box are the real thing: They were tape-recorded on submarines in actual ocean dives. Ballast tanks are blown, and bub­bles stream past the portholes at a 45-degree angle, to give you the feel­ing you’re at the angle of descent. When the uproar stops and the bub­bles clear, not even a veteran submariner could resist the illusion that he had leveled off after a dive.

Now you are cruising in the deep. Monsters of the underwater world peer at you curiously through the portholes. Giant squid that spread out 26 feet loom up, and clams huge enough to trap a man. But—the Dis­ney wink—when the huge clams open their jaws, you see they’re holding pearls. It reassures the chil­dren and makes their elders smile.

Suddenly you are under the North Polar ice cap, pale cold sunlight fil­tering eerily down. Overhead, ice­bergs grind and scrape, and the conning tower bumps as it glides under the floes. None of this is ex­aggerated. The sounds were re­corded by U.S. Navy subs in the Arctic.

Now you slide into another ocean, one peopled by snow-white mer­maids with flowing purple and sil­ver tresses. “Listen,” Walt cries, as the submarine’s “sonar” tunes in to the silliest symphony ever re­corded: The gruntings, whistlings, and shriekings of fish and shrimp. These sounds, too, are genuine, brought back on tape from the wild world of deep waters. Take another look back in time with a boy who met Walt during his first trip to Disneyland.

Don Brinn/AP/Shutterstock

For our last ride in Tomorrow­land, Walt and I boarded the Mono­rail, a train that runs on rubber tires on a single elevated concrete beam. No toy, this $1,300,000 installation is a seriously proposed commuter­-transportation system. It occupies only a narrow strip of ground, which doesn’t have to be graded; the piers supporting the beam just have to be built to different heights. Since the Monorail can cope with difficult topographical conditions—­rounding sharp curves at high speed, and climbing steep grades—the track could be erected on the divid­ing strip of existing highways. It is being considered as one solution to the traffic problems of congested metropolitan areas.

Where is the roller coaster? In Disneyland you don’t just zip up and down hills that stand on stilts. Between Tomorrowland and Fan­tasyland is a $1,500.000 model of the Matterhorn, “snow-capped” and breath-taking, every feature repro­duced meticulously at 1/100 of actual size—which makes the mountain as high as a 14-story building. (Even the evergreens, edelweiss, and other plants growing up to the timber line are in scale; when they grow larger they’re replaced.) You swoop down the slopes on a bobsled, hear­ing the roar of mountain winds. You pass behind real waterfalls, through icicle-hung caverns and a glacial grotto. And at the bottom you glide to a halt on a glacier lake.

In Walt Disney’s magic kingdom there is nothing to convey the feel­ing you get at most amusement parks—that you’re watching a nerv­ous breakdown and being invited to share it. There are no barkers selling tickets, no “Hurry! Hurry! HURRY!” Thoughtful cards on the display tables of the Main Street gift shop say: “Relax. We do not charge for accidental breakage.” In place of a neon nightmare to lure customers all night, tiny lights resembling fire­flies have been set to twinkling in the trees. Adults whose children have strayed are soothed by a sign that reads: “Lost parents, please wait here for your children to find you.”

More than 19 million people, from all 50 states and 70 foreign coun­tries, have visited Disneyland in the five years of its existence. Among them are King Baudouin I of Belgium, King Hussein of Jordan, Princess Sophia of Greece, and Presi­dent Sukarno of Indonesia. King Mohammed V of Morocco, after his official tour of the park, sneaked back to pay his way in and enjoy it incognito.

The success of the venture has put a ferment into the amusement-park business everywhere. Denver’s Magic Mountain; New York’s Free­domland; La Montaña Mágica in Caracas, Venezuela all follow the basic Disney idea of stretching the imagination while providing fun. At Pleasure Island near Boston last summer, youngsters were piling into whaleboats to take off after a 50-foot replica of Moby-Dick—a far and noble cry from the underprivileged kind of fantasy such parks used to offer.

But the others will find it hard to imitate Disneyland. For something unique and intangible is expressed here—the creative personality of a master of the fairy tale. Next, check out some more fascinating facts about Disneyland that even Disney fanatics don’t know.

Original Source -> Walt Disney Reveals Just How Disneyland Was Created in Rare Interview

source https://www.seniorbrief.com/walt-disney-reveals-just-how-disneyland-was-created-in-rare-interview/

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Red alert

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 22 | Part 23 Red alert | Part 24 >

Disclaimer: A little naughty (maybe not entirely PG13? What do you kids watch these days anyways?) and a bit of travel sickness 

Author’s note: 🔥(That’s all I have to say) 

Word count: 1.919

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

I never thought I would come to say this, but I think I’ve learned to appreciate the cold. I’m still not a great fan of it, let that be clear. But there’s something quite funny about the routine you build around such extreme temperatures. Digging yourself out of your trailer? Check. Doing jumping jacks while letting your dog pee in the snow? Check. Ice fishing and making Maple Syrup Taffy (which I adore by now)? Check.  

Today is our last day here in Canada and I’ll miss the polite fun folk we have met, the film crew whom are absolute rockstars no matter how extreme the cold got and I’ll most definitely NOT miss the trailer we lived in. Three broken heaters. A leaking shower. A bed that was barely large enough for me to stretch my legs (poor chocolate cake had to almost sleep folded in half) and no place to properly dry your clothes meant it smelt like old fart if you didn’t light some scented candles.

But no more old farts! We are going home!

See you soon dear parents, friends and other good acquaintances. I can’t wait to share all my stories with you in person!

Ali

‘Oophh..I’m not feeling so well Hen.’ I croaked, gripping the arm rest of the airplane seat tightly. I felt about as green as the puking bag I held in my other hand, ready in case my body would no longer hold in the two puny sandwiches I had for breakfast.

Henry rubbed a strong hand over the nape of my neck, cooing some comforting words in my ear over the loud noise of the plane engines and storm outside.

And…DROP…there went the plane again, my bowels drifting for a few milliseconds too long, making the bile rise in the back of my throat. Shaking my head in terror I opened the bag, trying my utter best to breath in deeply through my nose.

Somewhere in the racket of the aerial doom I could hear the quiet whining of Kal, the poor dog folded in between Henry’s legs.

Quite a pair we were, hmm? Scared Kal, sick Alice.

Slowly I felt my breathing calm, the bile sinking back where it belonged, the cold sweat on my skin drying somewhat.

‘Please tell me it..’

DROP. The plane made another dive through the air, my previous green hue right back where it was just moments ago. My face got sweaty again and my breath choked as I kept my mouth clenched tight to prevent any bile from exiting any orifices. 

Usually I was pretty okay with flying. But this? This?! Oh my word. This was something else! I wasn’t even sure if Henry was an actual human, his body calm and relaxed, voice soothing. Like nothing was the matter and we weren’t right now looking right in the gaping mouth of a hell storm, ready to be devoured.

‘I can’t do.. This.’ I gulped, sitting back up and looking white as a sheet, my eyes trying to focus on the chair before me.

‘You’re doing real well.’ Henry praised, his warm hand pushing some sticky strands of hair away from my face. ‘Deep breath in and puff puff puff out.’ He puffed along with me and the very act made me somewhat forget about our predicament. I swallowed back another bit of bile and quickly looked over at him, his mouth still shaped in a little “o” as he helped me puff. ‘I’m not having a baby over here Hen.’ I sniffled, then felt my body protest again, the bile jumping back up in my throat.

Henry laughed. ‘If it works, it works. Besides, a little practise is always good.’ I could clearly distinguish the humour in his voice but feeling sick as a dog I first needed another one of those long inhales followed by a series of puffs before I could look back at him. With an exasperated look I puffed into his face, making him laugh even harder. ‘You’re nearly there baby!’ He cheered, taking the piss with me a bit. I growled and shook my head in annoyance. ‘You…’

‘Just another..four more hours.’ He winked, pointing at the screens that showed the flight time.

‘I hate you right now..*breath in* Cavill *ppfffff pfff pfff*’

‘Just wait until I put an actual baby in you.’ He whiskered huskily in my ear.

Oh how glad I was that nobody could hear us over the loud racket. That nobody could hear my stomach make an actual somersault - both in a good and bad way at the same time. And oh how glad I was I wasn’t physically able to launch myself at him right now, because truly..this man? This man was the greatest of teasers and right now he could most definitely need some..well..let’s say “putting in place”?

—

‘Home sweet home!!’ Henry turned the key of the blue slated house, the hour late and Kal lagging behind us as he was making a reintroduction with the front yard. Tail wagging, nose sniffing, he was acquainting himself with his new home. Our home. Our very own home. A very empty home, too.

We had not really had any time to move and buy furniture, so right now the large house only had a few basic pieces; a bed, a small couch, a kitchen table with two chairs and a few lights. Henry flicked his hand over the light switch to turn it on, but darkness did not evaporate with the burst of yellowish light. It remained dark instead. Grumbling Henry took his phone from his back pocket and used it to shine some light on the light switch.

‘Strange.’ He grumbled, looking over at me as I was calling Kal inside. Stepping in behind him I noticed that something was amiss. ‘Missing a spark there, sir?’ I winked and just like that his annoyance was forgotten, his face breaking into a smile. ‘Looks like it’s going to be a romantic night in the dark ages, my fair lady.’ - ‘Mmm…sounds terribly romantic.’

Closing the door behind us and following Henry’s flashlight into the kitchen, our feet echoing loudly in the empty hallway, we found some groceries his parents had done for us earlier that day. We filled Kal’s bowl, opened the bottle of red wine we found and decided to drink our first celebratory glass of alcohol in bed, the house being a bit chilly as the heating also seemed to have died along with the electricity.

‘I think the dead heater has cursed us.’ I mumbled, trembling under the sheets, body propped up against the headboard and Henry pouring us two glasses. He chuckled. ‘We’ll make sure to sacrifice a virgin later. But first things first; a toast!’

I laughed and clinked glasses with him, the mattress shifting as he moved in close beside me, his lips quite instantaneously finding mine before I could even take a sip. ‘Mmmm..it may have taken me a good 37-ish years to woo you, dear Alice, but please let me tell you that I am the happiest man in the world right now.’ He kissed me again, more passionately.

I chuckled into his kiss, pulling back slightly. ‘I am glad about that too. Even as I lay here in all my clothes, shivering under a blanket, stinking of airplane and probably tasting of bile, too.’ I winked at Henry, his features half-lit by the light of his phone’s flashlight that he had now placed on the foot end of the bed. He laughed and pressed another kiss on my lips. ‘Oh no. Nothing can quite stop me from loving you, I’m sure. Absolutely..’ He pressed a kiss lower on my neck, his teeth gripping onto the neck of my comfy, but totally un-sexy turtleneck sweater. ‘Nothing.’ He growled, tugging at it playfully, making me laugh even harder.

We had taken only two more sips of our wines before we busied ourselves with reacquainting with another piece we had missed very much; his bed. Now, our bed. Limbs tangling together, lips locking, there were a few things that simply didn’t change. Henry was a bear in every..sense..of the word. Big, bulky, sweet, hairy bear hugs. 

And apparently next to family planning, long airplane flights ALSO got him terribly horny.

—

Squinting my eyes I looked to my side, finding a still asleep Henry entangled with my arms and legs. Which, in and of its own was quite unique as Henry was usually up way before I even managed to blink open a heavy eyelid. Grumbling I shifted my hip and felt something weird on my leg.

Was that a …SNAIL?

Squirming and huffing in disgust I quickly shot out of bed, only realising a moment too late what it actually was. Not a snail or anything of an animalistic nature. A condom. Gasping quietly I saw Henry wake up as well, his blue eyes immediately searching for me and finding me next to the bed. Quizzically frowning at me he grumbled. ‘Mmwhat is it?’ He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then saw what I was pointing at. The condom.

‘Oh..’ He blinked, picking it up with deft fingers, then blinked a few times more when he realised that it was not just a condom. It was a..broken..condom. We both held our breath, the last remains of sleep immediately lifted.

‘Holy crap.’ I gasped, our eyes meeting in a moment of silent understanding. Henry sat up and swallowe harshly. ‘I’m SO sorry. Oh..’ He quickly tossed the condom aside and pulled the sheets away, large crusty stains everywhere. ‘Oh god I’m so sorry Ali. I didn’t know..I…’ He gave me a pleading look, large hairy chest heaving with terror.

And yet, despite the fact this was not truly a funny thing, I laughed. ‘Oh my..’ I chuckled, shaking my head slightly. ‘Well that was an adventurous night, for sure.’ I said, slowly crawling back on the bed, evading the large crusty stain in the middle. Henry sighed and rubbed his face again. ‘Damn. Do you want to go to the pharma..-’

‘No.’ I cut him short. Our eyes met again and just like that another silent agreement was made, Henry’s pleading eyes melting into ones of tender love. ‘Really?’

I giggled and crawled into his lap, nuzzling his nose and enjoying the warmth of his arms as they wrapped around me. ‘Really Ali?’

‘Henry! Please do not make me regret a thing that feels good.’

Henry’s chest rumbled with a deep chuckle. ‘So.. it’s okay?’

I nodded and looked deep into his ocean blue eyes. ‘To me it’s okay. Is it for you?’ I asked with honest curiosity, but I couldn’t keep a serious face for long when I saw Henry’s over enthused face. ‘Alice..Alice Alice Alice..is this what I think it is?’ He whispered, eyes large and expecting, his hands rubbing slow circles over my lower back. I grinned and nodded, shrugging ever so slightly. ‘It’s not like we aren’t on the same page. No matter what happens. We want this, right?’ - ‘Right.’ - ‘Then let this happy little accident make it so.’ - ‘Okay.’ Henry said, still coming up to speed with what we had just decided upon.

‘AAAHH!!’ He exclaimed rolling us over, the dirty sheets sticking to our bodies, making me laugh with joy. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you!’ He whispered with great contentment, his lips travelling down my jawline, pressing sweet kisses on every inch of skin he could find.

‘I love you too Henry. Now better warm me up before we’re going to probably have our coldest shower EVER.’

‘With pleasure.’  

--

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