#and entertaining idea of breaking into a house in Mist

[toms-cherry-trees]

Hello Mars!! Congratulations for your 1.5K followers celebration 🎉 I hope you get many many more! 🤗 and more stories!

To celebrate can I request a blurb with this gif?

(Fluff) I love a rare Tommy Shelby smile 😊 😉 ♥️

Congrats once more!! *hype* also could you add me to your Tommy tag list? xx

Tommy smiles are so rare we ought to cherish them 🥺🥺

Also I will add you to the tag list! Thanks for the request darling!

Mars 1.5K Celebration

Laugh || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Hunting, some war PTSD, because fluff with me is never 100% fluff

Raucous laughter booms through the stillness of the forest, mixing in with the cacophony made by the lurking animals who are surely hiding not so far from you, all of them driven off by the heat and light of your bonfire. In the background you hear the gentle gurgle of a nearby stream from where you obtained water for the mint tea now warming your hands and your belly. You are swathed in an old woollen blanket of dark green hues, already frayed and thinned out by time. Tommy sits across from you on a log, cigarette hanging from his lips as he entertains you with stories of his childhood, enacting the best parts for you with dramatic motions of his hands. 

“And how much did you pay John to eat a pound of raw onions?” You inquire once more, half of the story having been lost between your laughs.

“Not enough for the stomach ache he got. His breath reeked for days” Tommy’s laugh is such a rare occurrence you have forgotten how beautiful it is. Deep and throaty, shaking his shoulders and pulling his lips into a grin. His eyes shine brighter and his features soften, jaw no longer clenched tight and brow relaxed. The only thing that remains of the old Tommy, the only part of himself not tainted and poisoned is his laugh. And you cherish every little instance you get to hear it.

When Tommy said you two were going out to camp, you thought he had lost his mind. Sure, camping out had been a big part of your youth but now, both in your 30s, three children and a lot of responsibilities under your wing, the idea seemed derisory. Yet you didn’t regret one bit coming out with him into the forest, still safely within the lands surrounding Arrow House. You knew if you had allowed, he would have taken you out on the road to God knows where, but you felt safer close to the house and your kids.

“What do you think the other MPs would say if they saw you, mighty Tommy Shelby OBE, with mud up to your knees and gathering twigs to light a fire?”

Tommy flicks his cigarette stub into the fire and comes to sit next to you, his strong arm circling your shoulders “I am sure my fellow MPs would be very appreciative of my extensive efforts to understand better the lives of the common people”

“Because surely the common people of South Birmingham sleep in vardos under the stars and hunt rabbits for supper” A teasing smile tugs at your lips, leaning your head back on his shoulder so you can observe his features. His cheeks are flushed from cold, despite the warmth of your body and the flames, and his breath comes out in faint puffs of mist. You press your tin mug into his hands, noticing the way he stretches his stiffened fingers. Silence has befallen you, and for long minutes you two dwell on the moment, the embrace, and the so welcomed break of the routine. 

“It’s been ten years” He whispers quietly, swirling the drink in his hand before taking a sip

“I know” Is the only reply that you can muster, instinctively scooting closer to his frame until your head is tucked under his jaw, his hand laced with yours and you tracing circles on the back with your thumb. He inhales deeply the scent of your hair, chin perched on top of your hair. Physically he is hugging you, but his brain is in a far away land. 

Ten years. A whole decade. The anniversary of the day he returned home from France, beaten and bruised and underfed and scared, even if he would never admit it. Even if your affection and devotion had nursed the physical damage, some wounds could never be treated nor healed, and remained gaping and bleeding in a place only he could reach. A place that only belonged to him, and of which you were only allowed frightful glimpses every time his demeanour broke into fits of unbridled rage, or when he would awake you in the dead of the night, fingers clinging to your nightgown and feverish kisses to your skin because they are there, the Germans are coming, the shovels are on the wall and you are the only anchor he has to steady himself against the storm brewing inside his brain. 

“Sometimes I wonder if-”

“No. Don’t wonder. It is all in the past and it no longer matters” You are quick to interrupt him, knowing where his thoughts are heading. Never before you thought you would hear terms such as shell shock or survivor’s guilt, but once you learned about them, they made perfect sense. When things got dark, Tommy pondered over the what ifs of life. What if he had not returned, and instead another boy had made it home; a boy who did not put his family in danger, a boy who protected his loved ones and did good to others, instead of carrying guns up his sleeve and knives in his heart. Tommy always said boy instead of man; another of his tactics of self-flagellation, derived from all the fresh-faced kids who boarded the train with him, and how little of them made the journey back.

You know you have to pull him out of his trance before he sinks too deep into his black waves, and you can only think of one way how. Your fingers slowly trace patterns above his heart, sliding down in progressively wider circles until you find that ticklish spot between his ribs and dig deep, forcing a startled laughter from his lips. All of a sudden Tommy is on the ground, your weight pinning his legs as you continue your assault, thumbs digging under his ribcage and stealing the breath from his lungs in forced waves of laughter, all of while he struggles to smack your hands away, his body writhing under your and staining his shirt with green from the grass. After several tortuous minutes he manages to grab your wrists in his grasp and pulls both of your hands to a halt, drawing in heavy breaths as the joyous sounds slowly fade away. 

“You are terrible sometimes” He growls, pulling you close by the wrists so your body topples over his, keeping your arms pinned between your bodies as his arms circle your waist. His heartbeat remains frantic and his cheeks are as red as ripe apples. 

“And yet you decided to marry me” Your lips hover inches above his, both of you sporting relaxed smiles. His eyes seem brighter than ever, almost innocent. You see through the vines encircling his soul the traces of the young lad he used to be, peeking out through gentle moments like this. 

“Terrible decision on my behalf”

“Terrible indeed” You mock, a soft laugh escaping you as you wiggle free from his grasp enough to accommodate yourself so you are straddling his abdomen, knees on either side of him. His hands naturally rest on the curve of your hip to keep you steady, features brimming with adoration for the wife that keeps him grounded and steady. Without you he would be like a boat without moorings, drifting into the abysm. 

You lean in for a kiss tantalisingly slow, while Tommy lifts his torso to meet you halfway. Right before your lips touch, your fingers are back on his ribs, stealing laughs from his throat and flutters from his heart. 

[jooniens]

October 2022 Wrap-Up + Reading Slumps

Hello reader babies!

I know, I'm a broken record at this point but this post should have gone up earlier in the week.

In October, I allowed myself to relax a little bit and even fell into *Gasp* a reading slump. I only read 3 books in October and there is nothing to be ashamed of. In the reading community, there is a stigma around reading slumps and after wrapping up the books I read, I'd like to talk about it more.

As stated above, I only read 3 books in October and while I know I could have read more I am happy with the books that I did read.

These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong

I don’t really remember a lot about this book and I feel like that says a lot about how I feel. There is a lot of controversy around this book and its politics. I will not be touching on that mostly because I do not know a lot about what is going on and I would like to keep my blog free of these kinds of things. I thought this book was just okay. It really is encompassed by the word “mid”. I feel like the execution could have been better because this is such a cool concept for a book. The romance felt forced and not natural at all and I cared more about the side characters than anything else. At least this book had a cohesive plot and it kept me entertained.

3 / 5 Stars

Kill Creek by Scott Thomas

I saw this in a YouTube video posted by gabbyreads and she adored it so I of course had to pick it up (she is the only person I take horror/thriller recommendations from). While I did like this book and the premise there are a couple of things I want to touch on. I liked the characters and there were times that I genuinely felt creeped out when reading this.  Not to mention the idea of this story is so freaking cool. I loved the haunted house and how it followed the characters. I loved how this wasn’t just a spooky house and how there were psychological aspects to the horror as well. There are a couple things I didn’t like and that was how Scott Thomas wrote the main female character in this book and how he described fat people. Both came off as very misogynistic and fatphobic. 

3.5 / 5 stars 

Flame in the Mist by Renee Ahdieh

This was not a new read for me. After I realized that I had fallen into a reading slump I allowed myself to re-read a book which is something that I didn’t want to do this year (we will touch more on that later). I loved this book the first time I read it and I loved it this time around. I don’t really have much to add. I love the world, I love the characters, its quick and action packed, it was a great pick me up when I really needed one

4 / 5 Stars

Now let’s talk about reading slumps. These things are straight up demonized in the reading community. I know why that is but at the same time, when you need a break, you need a break, after checking some analytics I realized that I read 10 books in June which is maybe why by July and August I was starting to feel some burn-out. I also felt a little burnt out after reading Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson, it was just a really long book and it took a lot out of my brain. Reading slumps are okay and that is something that I am slowly teaching myself. In my little blurb for Flame in the Mist I mentioned that this year I didn’t want to re-read books. Last year, I re-read quite a few books and I just wanted to be able to expose myself to more authors and genres which I am proud to say that I have done well this year. But re-reading Flame in the Mist was a great idea as it helped push me out of that reading slump because I actually got to enjoy reading for that small time frame, even if it wasn’t an entirely new world. 

My fellow reading sapiens, don’t feel bad because you are burnt out. Take your time, no Goodreads reading challenge is going to define whether or not you are a good reader. 

Much Love, 

June <3

[afreesworn]

17: Novel

“So, Miss Deneith! You are back in Eorzea for good?” 

Reese Templeton always had a nervous energy about him. He was an excellent accountant – insofar as he seemed to have an eye for details and diligently informed her of business decisions that could not be made without her input. As far as Roen was concerned, he knew more about how her own wealth was managed than she did.

Being hands off was much more to her liking, the sizable estate that was left to her upon Nero’s passing never truly felt as if it belonged to her. With Mister Templeton as her accountant managing her investments in Ishgard and Ul’dah, Roen was free to travel to various corners of Eorzea, Othard, and most recently Sharlayan. 

But whenever Roen returned to Eorzea - much to the gratitude of her accountant - she always stopped by his office in Limsa Lominsa as a courtesy. He was never lacking for contracts and documents for her to sign, and never short of suggestions on dinner parties and lunches she should attend, to keep “relevant” amongst the wealthy and privileged that made up so-called “high society.” The latter was always refused, politely, and today would be no different.

“Not for good, but a bit longer this time, perhaps.” Roen nodded, hooking one arm on the oaken chair, reclining onto the quilted back. The tea he offered her remained untouched in front of her, on his desk. As usual, the man had stacks of papers and ledgers all around him, as if he was only happy juggling multiple things at once. “A few moons, I think.”

Reese raised both his eyebrows. “Oh! What is the occasion? Are you finally giving yourself some respite after traveling abroad for what… years now?” He was being facetious, of course; the man knew precisely how long she had been away for, probably down to the last bell.

“No special occasion,” Roen answered with a roll of her shoulders. “I just thought I should return home for a while. Perhaps even seek out a few friends that I have not spoken to in sometime.”

“Hm,” Reese hummed. Roen could see him wanting to pry her for more details, but somehow managed to restrain himself from doing so. They both had learned a little about each other over the years, and generally knew what to expect from one another. “Well! Your friends should be in for a pleasant surprise, yes? As far as you have been a client, I’ve not known you to take such time for yourself.” 

There was a deeper bow of her head, in acknowledging that simple fact. Indeed, she had not kept in touch with many - if not all - of the people she cared for. There were letters sent, of course, albeit infrequently, and while some have diligently written back, others…she had not heard from still.

It took her many years to finally mend old wounds, and in doing so, she had put some distance between herself and those that were dear to her. 

Perhaps it was time to close those rifts as well.

Reese regarded her thoughtful silence curiously, before adjusting the set of his glasses. “So then, should I expect you in La Noscea for a bit?” From his tone, he was eager to make some appointments on her behalf.

“I will be heading up to Ishgard first, to try and find someone,” It was a deft way to avoid yet again declining invitation to social events. “I’ll send word when I am back in La Noscea.” Her expression softened. “I would like to visit the orphanages, both here and Ul’dah.”

What looked like initial disappointment turned into a look of surprised anticipation. “Wonderful!” he chirped. “I will send word to the Albatross Orphanage. I am sure the head mistress would be happy to hear.” He tapped some parchments together on the desk, setting them neatly in front of him then clasped his hands together. “Then perhaps we can speak again about adding a few more stops to your itinerary?”

His persistence was at least admirable. Roen held up a hand but offered a small smile. “One thing at a time, Mister Templeton. Let me at least begin the process of finding my friend, then we will see what comes after that.”

If there was one thing she had learned from her years of traveling, it was to never plan too far in advance. New and unexpected things always had a way of ruining the most carefully laid plans - hers especially.

[itsnothesameasitwas]

greek mythology aus you say 👀 ana my dear pls spare some links 👉🏼👈🏼

yes… I said that my dearest friend 😌; sadly there are only a few ones but here the links of those i have already read 

✰ To Hell and Back by poshboyfriends | 4k | NR | MDC (happy ending)

an au based off of the story of orpheus and eurydice, the one with the musical lute player who loses his lover and plays his way through the underworld to bring her back.

✰ The Five God Cure for One Anxious Heartbeat by homosociallyyours | 11k | GA

When OT5 decides to sneak into a music festival to have a bit of fun and maybe make a few people fall in love, they expect things to go relatively smoothly. Fate has other plans.

Or: Niall, Louis, Harry, Liam, and Zayn are just five lesser Greek gods out there trying to have a good time, and they're feeling so attacked right now.

✰ not even the gods above (can separate the two of us) by feelslikehxme | 17k | TUA

“Mhm. Soulmates, the two of them.” Harry lays back on the grass, shielding the sun from his eyes with his arm. The last thing Louis needed was the sun shining down on Harry, not that he was staring or anything. “Do you have a soulmate?” He asks, curious to how matchmaking worked. It must be nice, watching people around you fall in love.

“I do. Somewhere. Everyone has one.”

or the one where Louis finds out he's the son of Athena, Harry keeps matching him with the wrong people, Niall accidentally breaks into Louis's flat and Liam doesn't know when to stop asking out Zayn.

✰ Winter Pines and Ocean Eyes by binarysunsets | 14k | TUA

Harry is awoken by the sudden weight of his dog across his chest, and he yawns and stretches his arms above his head, relishing the crack of his back the gesture produces and sending Fen tumbling down onto the bed. There’s a niggling sensation that he has something important to do that day, but in his still-sleepy state he’s struggling to recall what it is. When it hits him, he freezes mid-rub of his eyes, and his hand slowly falls to the furs strewn across the bed. His fingers tangle into their soft texture and he bites his lip.

Right. It’s that day.The day he’s meant to travel south.

Or, the arranged marriage au between young viking Harry, son of his clan's chief, and a certain caesar by the name of Louis, heir to the empire.

✰ A Dangerous Night (To Fall In Love) by FallingLikeThis | 7k | E

“Hey, Harry!” Louis greets, walking up to Harry with a sunny smile.

Any other time, that smile would lift Harry’s heart even as it made it race. He could let himself get lost in it, would probably catch himself more than once hoping, wishing for it to be more than a smile aimed at a friend. He’d relish the moments he could forget that that’s all he is to Louis. Any other time, he’d be selfish and let himself entertain those thoughts. But this is not like any other time. Tonight is the beginning of the end.

or Harry has visions and sees the destruction of Pompeii before it happens. Now, how does he tell his best friend what's to come?

✰ this is heaven in hiding by hemakeshimstrongx | 48k | GA

Harry is destined to sit on a throne. Louis makes him want to throw it all away. Or: Harry embarks on the greatest journey of his life. Louis is there every step of the way.

✰ keep your eyes upon the skies by hypocorism | 12k | TUA

Disney - Hercules AU

✰  the tragic story of a muse and a war god  orphan_account | 30k | E

Harry is a reckless god of war, Louis is a muse unspoken of, and their love might not be written in the stars.

PERCY JACKSON AUS

✰ in a sea of mist by tomlinvelvet | 126k | E

A Greek Mythology/Camp Half-Blood AU where Harry is lost, the road to peace is a wretched one, and somehow, through a mist of confusion and regrets, Louis seems to be the only thing that makes sense and everything Harry needs.

✰ How Far We've Come by hrrytomlinson | 32k | TUA

“This is Harry Styles,” Chiron offers.

He’s beautiful. His eyes are a stunning green, the color of new foliage. The new kid’s limbs are long and lanky—he looks extremely uncomfortable and uncoordinated. Louis internally smirks to himself, guessing the kid probably won’t be too skilled with a sword, or a bow, or anything sharp, most likely. His hair falls to his shoulders in sets of loose, brown curls. The color is rich and luscious, resembling soil so much that it looks like flowers could sprout from his hairline at any moment. But Louis’ eyes are stuck on his soft looking lips, pink as flower petals and slightly parted as his eyes scan the horizon of the camp.

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Harry.”

✰ Like A Drum (Baby, Don't Stop Beating) by exitthequitters | 9k | NR

They walk through the camp together hand in hand, past the big house where Chiron waves happily at them, past the strawberry field where Louis first kissed Harry, past the lake where Louis first met Zayn and Liam, past the dinning hall where Niall sat down next to Louis before he knew he shouldn’t, and to Harry’s cabin.

Or, they're all sons of Greek gods at a summer camp for demigods.

HADES/PERSEPHONE AUS

✰ Breakable Heaven by amomentoflove | 44k | E 

“What do you think?” Louis gets captured by Harry’s green eyes, unable to look away or even take a breath.

“I think you’re the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.”

“You must not have met many creatures then.”

Harry’s eyes glance downward to Louis’ lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own. 

“None like you.”

✰ My Heart Lies With You by asphodelknox | 31k | M

“What did you hit me on the head for?” Louis said. He tried to frown, but it hurt too much. Plus it was hard to frown at someone taking care of him so tenderly. “I didn’t hit you on the head,” Harry said calmly, moving from Louis’s forehead to remove some bandages on his arm. “My friend Niall, the God of Death, hit you on the head.” “Well, why did Niall hit me on the head?” Louis asked. He noticed his lips hurt too, and felt a small gash on them. His arms were covered in scratches and cuts, and as he moved to sit up, he winced at a pain coming from his waist. “What the hell happened to me?” Harry sighed. “Niall… can get a bit… excited.” “Was he excited about hitting me on the head?” “No!” Harry said. “Niall just got away with himself.” “Does he do that often? Get away with himself, I mean?” Louis asked wryly. “Only when an idea gets stuck in his head that he can’t get out.”

For being the God of Death, Niall has a habit of acting on ideas without thinking them through. It's probably why Harry ends up with an unexpected but entirely welcome visitor in his bed the day after a Mount Olympus party.

✰ daisies & dying by xaz | 14k | E

Harry’s eyes stayed cemented to the marble tiles, engraining the memory of his shiny loafers and their contrast to the flooring as he heard the footsteps draw near. An icy hand yanked his chin violently, forcing his face forward.Hand still clutching Harry’s chin, the man gave a toothy smirk, “I’ve waited centuries to have you as my bride. I won’t settle for less than your full attention, my love.”

OR Hades!Louis and Persephone!Harry but make it pirates

✰ you flower, you feast by stylinsoncity | 18k | M

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry".

✰ For every reason why, you were my because. by hisfirstrealcrush | 3k | GA

He was his greatest form of love.

an au in which harry meets louis in his forest and nothing seems to matter but his ocean-like eyes and his warm embrace.

------

hope you like them!! <33

[writer-panda]

The Hit on the Groom and What Became of It - Chapter 4/I’ll never let you down (in an open casket)

Chapter 1  -|-  Previous -|- Next

The Hit on the Groom and What Became of It - Chapter 4/I’ll never let you down (in an open casket)

-----------

As she hanged up, Marinette rushed to the doors and let her mother in. The previous night she spent mostly on working with Kwamis to prepare. Most were in agreement that she needed to act and not leave her kitty’s fate to chance. Tikki protested for a bit, but in the end, she saw that there was no changing Marinette’s mind and joined in on scheming. Except she had no way of tracking Adrien. Not… until she received the call!

Except now her mother entered. Sabine greeted her daughter by giving her a bone-crushing hug. 

“I was so worried! When the police called I couldn’t just sit there and wait!”

“Maman. It’s alright. I’m okay. See?” The girl did break away from the hug and smiled.

“I know. But I couldn’t help but worry.”

“Maman… Adrien’s been kidnapped.”

“I know.” Her mother’s expression didn’t reveal any emotions now.

“I… he’s been miserable ever since that wedding mess, and now this.”

“I know.” Again, nothing. 

“He’s my friend.”

“Not the love of your life?” Sabine questioned with a bit of amusement in her voice.

“No. He doesn’t need another fangirl. He needs a friend. Someone who can support him. I… I wasn’t a good friend before this…” She didn’t reveal that she wasn’t a great partner either. Chat hid things well, but from time to time his shell cracked. She should’ve seen the signs. She could’ve done something. Or at least do something with Lila. She had connections and Lila deserved a lawsuit or five. 

“Oh, sweety. You were a great friend. You are a great friend. I’m happy to see you’re not about to chase after some misguided love, but after friendship.”

“I know I’m only… wait, what?” Marinette.exe stopped working. If the problem keeps repeating itself, please contact customer service or the nearest Kwami. 

“When I was fifteen, I dropped out of… school to explore the world on my own. It wasn’t until a few years later that I met your father.” Sabine said in a bit dreamy voice like she was reminiscing. “We had several adventures across Europe before finally settling down in Paris.”

“But… Papa’s a baker.” Marinette protested. “I thought he was always a baker, like his father.”

In response, her mother chuckled. “No. Your father had much more in common with your Nona than with his father. I met him when he was fighting in an underground cage-fighting club.”

“Whoa…” Marinette’s eyes widened. That was a story she never heard before. “So how did you two got together?”

“I will tell you some other time. The point is, I know that even if I took you to Paris with me, you would’ve run away to look for your friend.”

“Maman!” For a moment, the girl wanted to protest. But then she decided that there was no point. “Yes… you’re right. But I can’t just let it happen! If the police find him, he will end up back with his father!”

“I know. And what’ll you do about it?” Her mother had this mysterious smirk on her face.

“I guess… I need to be the one to find him. I will get him situated somewhere safe. Maybe stay with him for a bit. He’s smart. And a quick learner.” He mastered being a superhero faster than I did.

“Good. Then you have my blessing.” 

“I can’t just abandon-” Marinette.exe stopped working again. Contacting the customer service might be in order. Technically, Sabine kept hinting about it. Practically, Marinette would miss a clue even if she was holding a gun to its head. “I have your what now?”

“You can go. Save him. Find yourself. And maybe kick some asses while you’re at it.”

“Most parents would be worried sick about their not-yet-adult children running off to an adventure.”

“You wanted to know how I met your father. The answer is I was the first to beat him in that cage.” Sabine’s smirk was replaced with a serious expression. “Of course I will worry, sweety. I’m your mother. But holding you back now will not help you. You’re a strong young woman and to be fair, I’m not sure how we could hold you down. You have steady access to the rooftop and two years of parkour training.”

“What now?”

“Did you honestly think we wouldn’t notice you sneaking off through the balcony?”

“And you didn’t even tell me?” 

“It would be hypocritical of us.” Sabine defended. “And if the worse came to happen, I had several… souvenirs from our travel around the world.”

“Thank you, Maman. I promise I will come back; And call you often. Well, maybe not too often.” Marinette already dashed to start packing. 

“Of course you will. And don’t get into too much trouble. I would hate to have to go and find you.” Sabine threatened with a bright smile on her face. 

“I’ll try, Maman.” The girl was only half-listening now. She couldn’t waste any more time. She learned how to trace the call about one-and-a-half years ago when she was still a bit ‘stalker-ish’. 

Sabine watched her daughter with amusement. So many memories returned to her now. Youth mostly well-spent if someone asked her. The ‘mostly’ part came to bite her just that moment as her phone pinged. She quickly checked the message and frowned. 

“I’m sorry, my little cupcake, but I need to go check it. An old friend turns out to be in town.” 

“I’ll call you later!” Marinette called from where she was furiously working on her laptop. 

When Sabine left, the kwamis swarmed her immediately.

“Your mom is so cool!” one of them cooed.

“And she’s one bad-”

“Roaar!” Tikki scolded the tiger kwami. 

“What’s the plan, pigtails?”

“Adrien’s call was made from within Gotham City. He’s still here for now. I also managed to track him to Burnley.”

“Didn’t that mercenary you called mention some Lawton?” Trixx offered.

“Yeah. I did try to search him up, but the only one with that name that I managed to find is Zoe Lawton. Wait. There is more!” She beamed up. “An old article in some Mexican newspaper.” She clicked on the link and read it aloud for her co-conspirators “Floyd Lawton, also known as Deadshot, was recently arrested after an assassination of a small group of smugglers. It is yet unknown if it was a hit or was it personal.” The article went on, but there was nothing more of interest.

“So the guy’s a mercenary too? That’s good. He’ll bring Adrien to you.”

“Not so fast. I remember hearing about him. Deadshot is one of the few mercenaries who try to keep some resemblance of a code. He’s also noted to be soft around children.”

“Isn’t Adrien almost an adult though?” Kaalki asked rather uncaring.

“Have you met the guy? He’s a literal ray of sunshine!” Plagg protested.

“So… he won’t deliver him and won’t return him.” Seeing that some Kwamis didn’t understand her logic, she clarified, “I don’t think that if he learns how Gabe treated his son he will be in any hurry to return him.”

“That makes sense.” The little being all nodded in agreement.

“So what’s the alternative?”

“He could adopt him,” Ziggy suggested.

“Please.” Marinette dismissed the idea. “He’s not Bruce Wayne.”

“He could smuggle him out of the country.”

“No. Everyone’s looking for him.” Roaar countered. “He would try to lay low somewhere.”

“Burley is large and full of potential safe houses.” Marinette started to think. “But there is also a large concentration of organized crime. Alone, we would have a hard time, but if we got them to help…”

“Is it wise to involve more criminals into your schemes Marinette?” Tikki asked skeptically.

“Don’t worry, sugarcube. To catch a bird you need wings. To catch a criminal you need crime.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“What’s the worse that could happen? I will go there as Seamstress. I won’t even appear in person. Right, Trixx?”

“You can count on it.” The fox kwami grinned.

“But… but…” Tikki wanted to scream her head off. Why did the previous guardian choose a juvenile criminal for her holder. Marinette used to be such a sweet girl. Where did Tikki go wrong?

---------

It was dark when an eerie mist filled one of the less-than-legal clubs in Burnley. From among the smoke, a figure entered. She was wearing a godet-type black dress with a side-cut that reached to her belt. The dress was overlayed with a very visible deep-blue corset that pronounced her blue eyes. It had some intricate laces on it. She also wore a puffy-sleeved blazer (also black, but with a dark blue finish) with large and very pronounced cuffs. Around her neck was a white double jabot fixed to a choker with a large black gem surrounded by diamonds. Her long deep-blue hair was let loose and hung over her shoulder. A simple black-and-white domino mask hid her features.

As she marched, one of her legs shifted the fabric to reveal she was wearing dark-blue socks reaching above her knee and black leather boots. A knife was strapped to the right one and several leather strips around her thigh and knee suggested she had more weapons on her. 

One of the men whistled.

“Looks like the entertainment arrived, boys!” Several cheered at that shout. At least until the man who dared to say it ended pinned to a wall with a rather large needle holding his jacket in place. It was also uncomfortably close to his jugular. 

“I’m not entertainment.” The Seamstress hissed. 

“Then you’re not invited.” Several men got up, many were holding now-empty bottled which they turned into impromptu weapons. 

“You will help me find what was taken from me.” She demanded.

“Yeah? Or?” One of the men laughed before charging at her. 

What followed next was perhaps the strangest carnage Gotham City has seen in years. The Seamstress danced between the attacks with almost unnatural grace and agility while stabbing the attackers in various places with large needles. None of the hits were life-threatening and most would heal within hours. The wounds were meant to incapacitate with minimal long-term damage.

By the time she reached the far end of the bar, almost every man was laid out on the ground groaning in pain or scrambling in fear.

“I am not asking. You will be rewarded for your obedience.” She then disappeared into the back alley. One brave/foolish enough who still had some fight left rushed after her, only to find the place completely empty. 

On the rooftop, Marinette let out her breath. She didn’t use any miraculous for that one, but she kept Plagg’s ring on. Chat Noir wasn’t seen in some time, so it would’ve been easier to explain that the ring was stolen by a criminal. She would really need to thank her mother for all the training she forced on her ever since the Akumas started to appear, as well as the lessons during her childhood. Those were all only the most basic grunts tonight, but she got their attention. One of them would run to their boss. There, she could actually do what she planned. 

--------

Just like she predicted, some of the less injured guys left the bar in hurry and drove their bikes to another part of the district. They disappeared into a three-story building. The windows were boarded, but some light seeped through on the top floor, so that is where she climbed. Indeed, by hanging on the edge of the window sill, she was able to hear the panicked screams inside.

“...and then she just disappeared! It was like that damn Bat, only much more terrifying. She was so small, and yet there was this… this… aura of power.”

Thank you Chloe for being queen B. Marinette stifled a laugh. Mimicking Chloe was the right choice. 

“Probably another one of his useless brats.” The boss dismissed them. Marinette decided that it would make the best impression if she contradicted him right now.

She wondered for a moment how to enter the armored building. She could rip the boards away and enter that way, but she was aiming for ethereal, not brute. In the end, she pulled a pair of glasses and put them over her mask. 

“Kaalki. Would you please help me break into headquarters of a criminal organization to scare them into serving me?”

“How many sugar cubes is it worth?”

“Ten. No more, no less.” Marinette had a small window of opportunity. 

“You’ve got a deal.” 

“Kaalki! Full gallop!” The light enveloped Marinette. When it died down, she was still in her outfit, only now the blue accents were brown instead. The gem on her neck held the symbol of a horse miraculous. “I love magical clothes. So easy to maintain the image.” Marinette muttered before a blue portal opened before her and she entered.

Inside, the five men (two who came to report, the boss, and his two guards) watched as the blue portal opened before them. The mist started to pour through it as well as through the boarded window. A figure calmly stepped inside.

“I didn’t expect the Gotham criminal organizations to be so… cliche.” She commented. Two needles sailed through the air and pinned the guards to the wall. Her horseshoe weapon waited patiently on her back should she need to use it.

“Who… who’re you?”

“Me? Oh. I’m The Seamstress. I had business in Gotham, but a fool dared to double-cross me. I need to find him.”

“Why… W-why shou-should w-we help… help you?” One of the guys from the bar asked.

“Oh. I’m not asking. I’m telling you that you’ll help me.” She informed. “I’m about to make you an offer you shouldn’t refuse.” 

The boss was now shaking. Damn city with its damn overpowered supervillains. They think they can simply run things as they want. First Red Hood took out most of the top brass of the underworld and then this? Working on his father’s farm was sounding more and more appealing. Then there was the shouldn’t. The reference to the classic movie was not lost, but she said shouldn’t. Not can’t. Once more he remembered how Red Hood took over. Submit, or die. This was the same. She clearly wouldn’t hesitate. He liked to think he could see those things. 

“I’m waiting.” The lady growled. “I’m not used to waiting.” Channeling Chloe is actually fun here. 

“Fine. You can have my seat. I’m going back to dad’s farm. Just let me go and you can have them.” The boss stood from his seat and motioned for her.

Marinette.exe is not responding. Do you want to execute the process? Not yet. 

She managed to keep enough cool to smile and take the seat, although she didn’t even register what was that. 

She would panic later. For now, tracking Adrien. “I need to find where Floyd Lawton, also called Deadshot, is hiding with my… asset.”

“It… I will see to it, Boss… lady.” One of the guys from the bar nodded very fast before rushing out of the room.

“I… will bring you the list of current assets.” One of the guards informed and walked somewhere. They were used to aggressive takeovers. This was their third. Boss change, guards remain. This was honestly the first time the previous boss managed to escape with his life. 

Meanwhile, Marinette finally realized what just happened. She really wanted to hit her head on the desk, but she was too afraid to show any signs of weakness. Why did she end up in this mess again?

----------

Sabine Cheng was waiting for her plane back when an airport guard approached her.

“Lady Cheng?” Sabine’s blood froze for a moment, but she refused to show any outward reaction at her past codename. “There is a man who wishes to discuss some… past debts.”

Damn it. And here she thought that bald bastard would forget about her. He had several more suitable people. He knew the risks of angering her.

Then again, she knew not to anger him either.

“Lead the way.” Her face was stone cold as she stood up. 

Inside a comfortable private lodge sat a blad man in a suit more expensive than the yearly revenue of her bakery. 

“Ah… Lady Cheng. I’m so happy you could’ve joined us.”

Sabine looked around and noticed that there was another man there, standing slightly in the shadows. A man she came to despise just as much as Luthor. Standing there was Gabriel Agreste.

“I can’t return the pleasure, Luthor.” She snarled, not letting her gaze drop from Agreste.

“Figured you’d say that.” The billionaire laughed. “But it doesn’t change that you came.”

“Be quick. I’ve got a plane to catch.”

“About that.” Lex smiled. “I’m afraid you won’t be on that plane. I need you to do something for me.”

“Sadly, my calendar is full for the foreseeable future.” She retorted coldly.

“Then you will clean it. Unless that is, you want me to tell my good friend the president about your little assignment for me twenty years ago. If I recall, your pardon didn’t cover that particular crime.” The man chuckled.

The only upside of this whole situation to Sabine was that Agreste finally realized exactly who she was. Or at least how dangerous she was. The deal she made ensured that Lady Cheng disappeared from everywhere but some people’s memory. To her dismay, Lex didn’t forget. And he still had that damning evidence.

She also knew exactly what was the job.

“I don’t do jobs involving kids, Luthor.” She seethed through gritted teeth. It wouldn’t matter, but she hoped it would at least give him a pause.

“Adrien Agreste was about to be married. I think that can calm your conscience. He was all but adult.” That despicable man dismissed her concern, as she predicted.

“I’m a little rusty. Don’t you have someone younger? Someone who would actually want to do this?” Sabine deadpanned. She kept true to the deal she made for her and her husband’s pardon and didn’t do any… extracurricular work.

“Alas, the fact you’re unwilling is why I need you. You see, the client, whoever they are, picked Agreste Jr. as a target in a… battle royale of sorts. It quickly stopped being about the ludicrous money reward. It’s now about proving who’s the best. And they won’t stop until they deliver him to that mysterious Seamstress.”

“So what do you want? I’m sure you could’ve bought some of them to drop the glory part.” She really didn’t want to do this.

“I offered to pay five times the price, but most of the competent ones want a shot at whatever that job is. A mysterious benefactor with no history, nonexistent in any database in the world, paying a small fortune for a simple job and offering further work? Doesn’t it sound familiar?” Lex reclined in his chair and smiled.

“One job only. I want everything you have on me. And ten times the bounty.” She noted his discomfort. “Don’t give me that look, Luthor. You can afford it. My daughter’s about to start a university.” Sabine turned to Gabriel. “I must thank you for the idea. Homeschooling really helps when one is gifted.”

“I’m sure we can come to an agreement,” Lex grumbled. If he didn’t know the quality of her works, he would’ve laughed at the price. Except he foolishly revealed that he was desperate.

“Oh, I’m sure we can.” Sabine smiled. She was like a cat that just caught a mouse.

[tzuyuscloud]

could i req a chuu imagine where theyre babysitting reader's younger cousin and it's just fluff n all? idrk 😭😭

You were in charge of watching your smaller cousins for the day while their parents were running errands. The oldest was 3, Luna, while the youngest was 1 ,Solar.

You figured during nap time that you would call Jiwoo to come over and help since she liked children and you were outnumbered. It felt like only seconds have past when you heard her softly knocking at the door you swiftly walked to the door. "Hey Jiwoo!" You whispered. Jiwoo being clingy she pulled you into a hug.

"hi y/n! Where's the tiny humans!" She squealed excitedly.

"shhh!" You quickly shushed her not wanting the children to wake up so soon. "They're asleep but you can help prepare their snacks for when they wake up." Jiwoo liked that idea following you into the kitchen and washing her hands.

She had cut up some apples and bananas while you made a bottle with a plate of baby food for the tinier child. In the mist of putting the snacks together Jiwoo rushed to the bedroom when the sound of a toddler crying filled her ears.

She then walked back out with a sleepy Luna in her arms rubbing her eyes. "Morning y/n" the child yawned not bothered in anyway, shape, or form that Jiwoo was holding her.

"good afternoon Luna, did you get some beauty sleep?" You asked while planting a kiss on her forehead.

"yep!" She giggled. "Snack?"

Jiwoo laughed at her eagerness to eat, "yes you can have your snack. Let's sit at the big girl table" watching how good Jiwoo was with kids made your heart fluffy.

While Jiwoo entertained and fed Luna you went to wake up baby Solar who was in a deep sleep. Rubbing the infant's head she stirred in her sleep and eventually opened her eyes. The moment Solar saw you in her vision she started smiling and cooing for you to pick her up.

"oh my goodness tiny tiny human!" Jiwoo ran from her spot next to Luna to gently grab Solar from your arms. "Can I feed her?" Jiwoo asked with pleading eyes.

"sure, here's her bananas that are mashed up, and when she's done with half of that you can feed her her bottle" you handed Jiwoo everything she needed after she made herself comfortable at the kitchen table while Solar was strapped into the highchair.

_

"You can be the fairy princess who's trapped in the...in the...in the tree!" Luna jumped up and down as she placed the plastic tiara on Jiwoo's head. "And y/n has to come save you from the evil dragon who is me and sissy" Solar crawled around the playroom chewing on her teething rings while wearing a pair of wings. You had a foam sword in your hand while Jiwoo stayed trapped behind the play bricks that were built into a wall protecting her, aka the"tree."

"roar!" Luna stomped around knocking down blocks. Her roars were followed by a fragile scream that came from Jiwoo as she shouted, "save me prince!"

You couldn't help but break character and laugh at her words, "I'll save you princess!" You wheezed in a broken deep voice.

"y/n you suck at this" Luna shook her head ashamed of her cousin's acting.

"hey kid cut me some slack" you pouted feeling a little jealous that she enjoyed Jiwoo's acting better. In the mist of Jiwoo being "saved" the front door opened and the sound of Luna and Solar's parents' voices filled the house.

"mommy!" Luna jumped up excitedly and ran into her mother's arms.

"I had fun today woowoo!" Luna jumped into Jiwoo's arms and planting a big fat kiss on her cheek. Everyone could notice how huge Jiwoo's heart grew even though it couldn't get any bigger.

"I'll miss you Luna! I enjoyed you today" Jiwoo hugged the small child. After cleaning up the playroom you and Jiwoo both said your goodbyes to the children and left.

"I think Luna likes you" you nudged Jiwoo's shoulder.

"she's a cutie" Jiwoo couldn't help but flash off her signature smile at the new formed memory.

[tumblingdowntheway2019]

Sleepless Nights, Part One (1).

Heelloooo my beautiful pps, how are we all today? Back again with another Head-Canon. 💪😎💕

So this one is when Donna is adopted by Lady Dimitriscu as a new daughter. This is based on the wonderful @charlottefairchildbranwell's story based on a couple of my Head-Canons. Go check check her out, charlottefairchildbranwell wrote some amazing and entertaining stories for them! Here is a link to one of them.

WARNING: BELOW THE CUT, THIS POST WILL CONTAIN TRIGGERS, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION/PTSD/PANIC ATTACKS/GORE, CHILD TRAUMA, TRAUMATIC EVENTS, ETC.

I MAY NOT BE GOOD AT WRITING THESE THINGS, BUT EVEN THEN IT'S BETTER TO WARN YOU.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

With that said, let's begin. Sorry in advance.

😭🙏

LADY DIMITRISCU'S P.O.V.

It had been over a year since Donna started living in Castle Dimitrescu. A full year since Mother Miranda's reign had come to an end.

Things have been going so well for the Doll Maker. She gained more confidence, can hold a conversation with her family and even the Winters' Family without the aid of Angie anymore.

The Lady of the Castle however, began noticing something strange happening with Donna lately. It was small things, but they became more noticeable as of late.

Donna has been more sluggish in her movements, making small and silly mistakes in her everyday tasks and had been spotted dozing off whilst in the middle of tasks or activities.

Lady Dimitrescu tried to ask many times if she was ok, but Donna has been dodging the questions. Her daughters and Angie noted that she was unable to sleep a full night the past few days, but hasn't explained why.

The fact that Angie doesn't have that usual strong mental connection to her closest friend is worrying. But Angie had mentioned at the beginning that these happen occasionally and it will pass soon enough.

DONNA'S P.O.V

It's happening again, she knew it was too good to be true. The nightmares are back with a vengeance.

Donna deliberately severed most of her connection with Angie as to not draw attention to herself. She hates it.

Those nightmares, no, memories? She can't tell now. They are just too real to tell.

The Doll Maker doesn't know what triggered this, but she didn't want to worry her family.

She tried to act normal in order to to fend off any suspicion, but she was just so tired. Mistakes over simple tasks have been more noticeable.

Naps are too and far between during the day. The Bat Trio had been trying to cheer her up, Donna's been doing her best to keep them happy. It was a good distraction for a while.

Unfortunately, the nightmares had been making sure that Donna didn't forget in the waking world.

LADY DIMITRISCU'S P.O.V

Lady Dimitriscu had been keeping a closer eye on her daughter. Made sure to be close by should anything happen.

She observed that Donna has been flinching at random shadows or reflections, dozing off with book in hand, nearly dropping it as she jerked herself up and shaking her head.

Something's wrong, but Donna won't speak about it and won't be forced to.

It had been like any other night, Angie decided to join in on a sleepover with the Bat Trio in the Dungeons.

They wanted to tell scary stories and those particular dungeons was always warm enough for them to stay down there.

It had been in the middle of the night, The Lady had been reading one of the many books, ones that she had read many times before.

She was about to turn the oil lantern off when the sound of breaking glass caused her hand to freeze just inches from the dial.

Sharpening her sense, Alcina close her eyes to allow her to focus more on her hearing.

Quiet hitches of breathing was heard.

DONNA'S P.O.V

The Doll Maker woke with a start, it hasn't even been an hour yet. She couldn't even hold onto Angie as she allowed the Bride Doll to go hang out with Bela, Cassandra and Daniela.

It felt all too real. It started off pleasant enough. Donna was in House Beneviento again, opening the door revealed her mother in a rocking chair, knitting.

Donna approached her, hesitant to reach out to the unaware woman.

A call of another girl caught their attention. They look up to see a teenage girl, who was the spitting image of a younger Donna.

"Bernadette?" She quietly says.

Bernadette comes skipping down, unaware of her younger sister's presence as she skips down the stairs and through Donna, as if she were made of mist.

Donna turns to see Bernadette skip off to meet her friends in the village. Their mother calling after her to be sure to return home before the sun begins to set.

In her near forgotten instinct, The Doll Maker silently makes her way to the elevator.

When she entered the elevator, the button was level with her elbow. Something that came in handy as she was always carrying materials that requires both hands to hold.

The elevator reached the basement, she found that everything was bigger than before.

As she walked down the hallway, Donna barely caught her reflection off the glass cabinet. The bottom of the glass was just at eye level.

Upon looking at her reflection, a young girl stared back with her two (2) dark brown eyes. She was a little girl again, maybe no older than seven (7) years old?

She continued to the end of the hallway and through one of the double doors and found her father hunched over one of his latest creations.

Donna knew what was about to happen next, it didn't surprise her any more. She begins to back away as her father slowly sets down his tools.

"Why?" He hoarsely croaked out as dripping sounds were heard. "Why did you do this to us?"

Donna tried to push against the shut door with all her might, but her small frame barely made it budge.

She looked over her shoulder, gasping and began to shake as her father's bloated corpse stood up slowly, movements strongly resembling a puppet being pulled by their strings.

Small waterfalls were coming through the walls and ceiling as father trudged through the ankle deep water.

With one final charge, Donna finally burst through the door and makes a bee-line toward the elevator. The water rising all around her.

Streams of water burst through the ceiling in many spots. Some appearing with such force in front of her that Donna nearly lost her footing on a few occasions.

Her father close behind in his pursuits as the water appeared to allow him to glide in the rising water.

The water was now at the young girl's knees by the time she reached the elevator.

How did the button get so high up?!

After many frantic attempts, Donna successfully jumps up and up against the elevator's wall to press the button.

The grated door shuts, her father's blue, bloated corpse stared at her with angry bloodshot eyes as he slammed and pulled against the grate.

The water descending and emptying the higher the elevator went. Leaving behind a mostly soaked to the bones Donna.

The elevator dutifully opens on the ground floor, Donna reluctantly steps out. The Doll Maker once again knows what's coming next as she trekked through the hallway.

Opening the door to the Living Room, she found her Mother, standing and looking at the ground with a sharpened out knitting needles in each hand.

Eyes filled with rage look up at her as her mother raises her head, voiceless as her mother's mouth moved. But she heard it so many times before that Donna knew what she was saying.

"Your fault."

"Your fault."

"Your fault."

Barely able to dodge the sudden attack, Donna sprints to the front door. Last obstacle.

Bernadette, now aged twenty-one (21) was now blocking the entrance.

END OF PART ONE (1)

_____________________

Edit: Heyo pps, edited some errors, finished the last point and took away the extra blank ones to helps space it out better. Tags were also added in.

A/N - You guys are gonna laugh, I didn't intend on posting this until later. I accidentally posted it before the last point (Bernadette being at the entrance) was done and no tags. 🤣🤣

But I am glad I did, however. Cause this would have been so much longer and I didn't want to bore you guys with so many points. So a part two (2) will be out later on, either tonight or tomorrow. 🤔 Sorry about that. 🤣

Hope you all enjoyed Part One (1) of 'Sleepless Nights.'

Remember, if you wish to use this or the ideas/H.Cs mentioned above, you are always free to do so under the conditions that you credit back to this and myself. That and to please tag me when you are done because I would love to see how it was able to help you out in your stories/art!!

💪😎💕

Hope you all have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening my lovelies!💪😎💕

Part Two (2) linked here! 💕🥰💕

[ffxiv-ariavitali]

Hear me out - HW guys + Thancred lending the WoL their cloak/coat if they got too cold. Might I request that please?

of course you can! this idea is so cute! i hope you don’t mind that i changed it up a bit, i thought it would be more fitting since i can’t really see some of the guys wearing a coat themselves in these scenarios. :<

❅ ❅ ❅

[Aymeric]

When Lucia had urged you to pull the lord commander from his office so that he may take a break, you weren’t sure of how you were going to do it. It was only at her reassurance that, if it’s you, he’d do anything and you didn’t know whether to be concerned by such unbridled dedication to your person. Nonetheless, you thought to entertain the thought, if only to confirm whether he will oblige you.

Thus, when you had entered into his offices and asked him if you would like to go for a walk with him across Foundation and the Pillars for old time’s sake, he was quick on his feet and at your side.

What caught you off guard was how cold it was in Coerthas today. Of course, it was always cold considering the nation state is plunged into an eternal winter, but it would seem a blizzard was on its way. Though, then again, when wasn’t there a blizzard on its way?

As you rubbed your arms together, trying to elicit heat into your body amidst the shivers, you felt weight atop your shoulders. You peered over your shoulder and found that Aymeric had come up behind you to place an overcoat around your body. He smiled pleasantly as he buttoned you up and offered an arm for you to take.

“I take it Lucia was the one that thought of this?” he asked cheerfully.

Your preceding laugh of embarrassment was enough of an answer.

[Estinien]

It was a cold night at the Churning Mists, much colder than you had anticipated. Rather, you should have anticipated it considering you and your traveling group were venturing up a mountain to entreat with Hraesvelgr himself. The winds bit against your skin and you were much less prepared for the endeavor than your companions were—seventh hell, even Alphinaud was more dressed for the excursion courtesy of Tataru’s gift for him.

After you had aided the others in setting up their tents, you quickly set about collecting more kindling for the fire. Figuring everyone would be warm enough to retire for the night, you thought you would be able to enjoy the fire on your lonesome, but when you returned it was anything but.

Rather, your dragoon companion sought it fit to grace you with his presence. From the way that it appeared, it would seem that he had been waiting for you this entire time. When you gave him a questioning look, he waved you away and motioned to take the firewood from your arms to start the flames himself. Thankful for the assistance, you took your place and wrapped your arms around yourself until the blaze had been ignited and the biting cold began receding.

While you were distracted, you felt something heavy plop atop your head and when you were ready to spit fire towards the man, you realized that he was scowling from embarrassment as he sat close to you, adjusting the cloth around your figure. Even when he finished, he stuck close and you couldn’t help but move closer to him. He was like a furnace!

...Maybe a cute, flustered one at that, you think with a smile.

[Haurchefant]

You decided to visit Haurchefant at Camp Dragonhead when you had finally received respite and, by the gods, if the seventh hell was as cold as how you felt, then you would do everything that you could to be the angel that you need to be to avoid going there!

Of course, the Fortemps knights were used to the cold climes already, some even performing squats near the wall as part of their training (and you swore that there were knights bathing in the river just outside the fortress as you were venturing here!) and so they took pity you as you were hunched over by the hearth. Well, they can take their pity and shove it up their—!

“Old friend, are you quite alright?” Haurchefant asked with worry coloring his eyes.

You smiled and nodded in response, answering that it was a rather chilly night. In response, Haurchefant nodded and left for but a moment to retrieve a blanket from his personal quarters. He took the opportunity to place the cloth around your figure and to sit by your side. You two passed the time just talking and making jest and somewhere along the way, Yaelle had passed along fresh mugs of hot cocoa for your enjoyment. 

Though, in your comfort and warmth, you hadn’t realized that you were leaning in against the lord as he wrapped an arm around your waist. From the way the lord appeared, he knew what he was doing and wasn’t flustered by the show one bit.

Truly, what a sneaky lord!

[Thancred]

After you had returned to Ishgard with Thancred, the rogue had made quite a number of jests aimed towards the unforgiving cold that was the eternal winter of Coerthas. Considering he was just as under dressed for the weather as you were, and from the way that Y’shtola was giving the both of you side glances along with crossed arms of disappointment, you two were two peas in a pod when it came to your complaints.

An evening of respite had led you to sitting on one of the couches by the hearth of House Fortemps’ main hall. You had just returned from a short adventure in the midst of the Fury’s ire and you were just beginning to chase the chills away from your body.

When Firmien, the head servant of House Fortemps, approached you to ask if you would like for something warm to drink, your fellow Scion had sauntered in carrying two mugs of hot cocoa with a blanket draped on his arm.

“Welcome back from your game of fetch,” he teased you with a grin.

You roll your eyes at him as you take the mug from his hands enough that he can throw the blanket over your shoulders. However, with the display of his bare skin resulting from his sleeveless top, you knew it wouldn’t be long before the man asks to share. So, you leaned in against him and reached out to wrap as much of the blanket around him while keeping it steady around you. Thancred offered his thanks and wrapped an arm around you underneath the cloth.

This will be your little secret.

[allycryz]

Nerys Eluned: Canon Jobs

Background

Nerys spent her childhood with a community of Duskwight in the South Shroud until she was twelve. Her parents moved first to the Central Shroud, later to the East. Prior to ARR, she had never left the Shroud.

Her father handled her academic education with a bent towards reading and history. Her mother took on the more practical subjects: how to hunt, forage, stay out of trouble; where the Duskwight could move freely and where they should avoid. 

There were always chores and odd jobs for children, especially needed when they left the relative safety net of The Cavern in the South. By her fifteenth nameday, this turned into steady work. She excelled in mostly physical jobs for merchants, farms, and outposts.

Nerys off-and-on entertained the idea of becoming a soldier, but never felt called enough to take steps. Once she reached her 20s, she had two main goals: make enough gil to live and to have fun when she wasn’t working. Nerys broke up her share of bar fights and dealt with fending bandits off merchant caravans, so again the idea of being a soldier or Adventurer came up.

The catalyst is a rough break-up that also ends a lot of her friendships. It is not that becoming an adventurer is a solution to any of the problems she faced. But in the wake of this big change, she took a long look at everything and decided she wanted something new. That leads her to Gridania and the Lancer’s Guild.

Disciple of War and Magic

Lancer/Dragoon

Meta Note

FFXIV is my first MMORPG. Prior, I have always been primarily a “solo play on my own at my own pace” kinda gal. But my friend said it was really fun and I love the FF franchise, so there I went. I wasn’t sure what class to do, was thinking Fighter until I learned it was a tank class. 

My only other major online game experience was Overwatch where I was a Lucio main. That was a rarity for me: I tend to have a tougher time with caster/support classes and prefer playing as a rogue or sniper in most games. As rogue wasn’t an option, I asked my friend what she thought and she suggested Dragoon.

There were three options in Gridania: Conjurer, Archer, Lancer. Although Nerys later tried her hand at the other two, Lancer appealed her as someone who wasn’t afraid to get into the thick of things. 

She ended up taking well to it and her fellow guild members. The guild was very much “here are a few techniques, go out there and figure it out” which matched up with her way of doing things.

Nerys is still processing everything that happened with Foulques of the Mist; angry with his choices while also understanding what he went through as a fellow Duskwight. It is a bit of a relief when Alberic becomes her new mentor and she can get away from everything. Not to mention: Coerthas is a place she has always wanted to go to. Her father’s lessons included their sweeping history as well as their poetry and stories. 

Of course, things go sideways almost immediately. The Eye chooses her as the second Azure Dragoon and her first encounter with Estinien is anything but friendly. Things settle on that front for awhile and her primary concerns become the Primals and Garlemald. And having a small foothold in Coerthas is a boon when she, Cid, and Alphinaud travel there in search of the airship.

When Estinien suggest they partner together, she is hesitant given their previous encounters but feels drawn to help him. She agrees. That all comes crashing down after Nidhogg reveals to Estinien how Alberic’s actions lead to the loss of his family. Nerys has to step in to fend him off. The next time she sees him is in the Intercessory with Aymeric. Though he assures her he is not there to fight, she is on her guard.

She never expects that Ishgard will become the place she calls home. Nor that she and Estinien will become friends and then something more, eventually becoming lovers after he rescues her from Elidibus-Zenos. But it does and they do, and even when they both give up the title of Azure Dragoon, she feels called to protect and serve her adopted homeland. For the sake of the Fortemps and Aymeric and Lucia and Hilda and Ysayle, but also for people like Alberic, Estinien, and Heustienne who made her the warrior she is today.

Note About Armor: Nerys has her preferred aesthetics and the traditional Dragoon armor doesn’t quite fit. She prefers her own style and her concession is armor that pays tribute to the heritage of the position without being an exact copy (pictured, not her only armor set in canon or meta-wise).

That said, she is aware of when statements need to be made. Nerys isn’t a political creature in the way Aymeric and Alphinaud are but she understands that politics are a part of everything. 

For certain missions and meetings she garbs herself in the traditional manner: needing to remind the Alliance of her strong ties to Ishgard, making the Heaven’s Ward realise how badly they erred in imprisoning Aymeric when both Azure Dragoons show up.

Meta Note: 

Once I got to Level 15, I joined...all the Guilds in Gridania. And for a while worked on leveling Archer, Conjurer, and Rogue while also making progress with Lancer/Dragoon and MSQ. Eventually I switched gears because I wasn’t progressing fast enough in the story and focused almost exclusively on Dragoon. 

For story purposes, Rogue doesn’t quite fit into Nerys’ story though I think Thancred has definitely introduced her to that crew.

Archer

Archer never quite suited Nerys, as someone who prefers to get close to the action. She does have a great deal of respect for her fellow guild members and Lewin; and she remembers what she learned when ranged combat is needed.

Conjurer

Nerys’ aether control as a Dragoon is excellent. But for whatever reason, she could not quite translate those skills to conjury.

She kept on for some time because in her mind, a good warrior would have healing skills at her disposal. Eventually, a conversation with E-Sumi-Yan brought her to accept that she might better serve others in a different way.

What she did gain was an affinity for the element of air, likely tied to her role as a Lancer/Dragoon. This becomes vital when she saves Haurchefant at The Vault, although it does not go as well as she would have liked.

(She also had a foray with the Arcanist’s Guild that was about as long as Tataru’s.)

Meta Note: 

Disciple of Hand/Land: I have levels unlocked in all the DoH/DoL, the following four make the most canon sense and are the ones I have progressed in the most. 

That said, canonically she dabbles in everything because she is naturally curious and wants to be self-sufficient in all things. Most of the guilds know her. The following four know her the best and it’s where most of her focus has gone.

Disciple of the Land

Botanist

Nerys was drawn to the Botanists’ Guild because of her upbringing. She knew much of the Shroud and its treasures already. What she found–as she became an adventurer–was that these skills help immensely on the road.

It’s also a centering profession. Nerys needs activity to bring her out of her own mind, especially as responsibilities and dangers pile on. She can go lose herself in nature, either for her own needs or on commission (and often both).

Having grown up foraging ingredients to cook with, her Botanist career also ties into Culinarian role.

Disciple of the Hand

Culnarian

Nerys grew up cooking alongside her mother, so she had a base of knowledge going into the guild. Still, through Lyngsath and the rest she discovers a whole world of new ingredients, recipes, and techniques.

As a hunter and a Botanist, there is no end to the new ingredients she find to experiment with.

Leatherworker

Nerys fell into leatherworking when she was scoping out all the guilds in Gridania (around the time she took up with the Archers and Conjurers).  

It stuck for a few reasons: the resources were fairly easy to come by from her hunts; it is another centering activity; and she is a bit of a clotheshorse. If she has to wear specific gear as a Dragoon, she can add her own pretty details to the leather pieces.

Weaver

This is a culmination of the other jobs: uses resources from other things she does (botany, hunting, and leatherworking), a craft that pulls all her focus into one thing, and satisfies her clotheshorse desires. She knows she can put pretty details into her everyday armor/gear and make more formal clothes that make her feel good.

(Whenever she is dealing with A Thing, she will get her hair done. Of course she needs clothes that work with the new look, even if it’s a temporary updo.)

When it comes to leatherworking and weaving, there a plus to taking guild commissions: it has to be perfect and meticulous and good quality but it is not on the level of say...if you fail this task, a primal will temper all these innocents. Nerys is drawn to help people but it's nice to do that for something that is not saving the world. (Of course when she makes any type of armor or working clothes, she is sure to make them well so they protect the wearer.)

She is not advanced enough to make her own gowns for formal events held by the city-states or the Ishgardian High Houses. One day she would like to be able to do so. Until then, Eorzea has plenty of dressmakers ready to help.

Outfit Note: I ended up choosing a mix of the Scion and Best Man’s clothing, thinking of how you can never go wrong with a suit. It’s crisp, always in style, and she looks great in it! 

[imma-fucking-nerd]

Soulmates?

Beetlejuice x Reader

Your name is Y/N. You were born into a universe where soulmates exist. Everyone's heart would faintly glow, and would get brighter the closer you were to your soulmate. However, if you were unfortunate enough to lose your soulmate.... Your heart would turn black.

Your name is Y/N. You were born with an inky black heart. Your soulmate died before you were even born. As you grew up you saw people around you with glowing chests. Some faint, some burning bright. You had only ever met a couple of other people with black hearts. But you'd never met someone born with a dead soulmate.

To say that you were depressed was an understatement. You were devastated when you learned why you weren't like anyone else. Your shadow of a heart shattered into a million pieces. You had entertained the thought if suicide, to be with your soulmate. But you could never go through with it and, with time, you got over it. You made peace with the fact that you would die alone.

You were in your mid to late twenties when you had finally bought your own house. It an old victorian crown molding, and you loved it. It was just your style. It was also in a nice quiet town, which made it even better. You hadn't actually been inside the house until you moved in. Maybe if you had, you would've moved in a LOT sooner. You walked into your new home, clutching the last box in your arms. Little did you know, a certain demon was watching.

As soon as Beetlejuce heard the moving trucks pull into the driveway he grumbles to himself. No one was supposed to buy this house except Lydia. So who the hell was this breather? Who did they think they were? He watched you like a hawk as you walked into the house. He phased through the floor and was prepping himself to give you the fright of your life before he froze. It was only by chance that he noticed it, but boy did he notice it. His heart was faintly glowing. His heart. Was glowing.

This is when he started to freak out. He didn't know what to do. holyshitholyshitholyshit. Then it hit him. He had to make you say his name. Whatever it took. For so long he just assumed he'd never meet his soulmate. Or that he never had one to begin with. But now? He wasn't about to let this opportunity slip away.

You, on the other hand, didn't notice the faint glow of your heart right away. You looked around the living room before glancing down at the box in your arms. You had to do a double take once you saw your chest glow. The box slid out from your arms and hit the ground with a loud thud. You just stared, wide eyed. That's when you too, started to panic. You never thought you'd see the day, but here it was. Immediately you thought to run out your door and see who was out there, but as soon as you got outside the glow dimmed.

Beetlejuce watched helplessly as you tried to leave. "Nonononono! I'm right here!"

Once you saw your heart dim you immediately ran back inside, watching as the light brightened. To say you were confused was a major understatement. You were alone in your house, so why was your heart glowing? Was there something wrong with you? Did you need to call an ambulance? Suddenly your thoughts were cut off when your broom that was leaning against the wall was thrown to the floor. You jumped and stared at it with wide eyes.

Beej was more than happy when he saw your reaction, his hair getting more neon by the second. He was practically vibrating. But, now what? He got your attention, sure, but what now? Again, he started to panic.

You looked around at the seemingly empty air. Your heart was racing and you put a hand over it. You were in disbelief, and you felt like you were having a heart attack. 'What the hell is happening?'

"Um....hello...?" You didn't expect an answer, but a part of you hoped for some kind of reply.

Normally, you wouldn't be so easily swayed at the idea of ghosts. But you heart was glowing. You heart. Was glowing. That thought alone was already impossible to you, so you were open to anything at this point.

Beej perked up at your voice and did the first thing that came to his mind to confirm his presence. Which was to knock over a porcelain vase. You flinched as the vase crashed to the floor. Smooth, real smooth.

"Holy shit-" You whispered to yourself.

You felt like you were having a fever dream. None of this felt real. It was almost too much as your body was flooded with excitement and anxiety.

"I uh- I'm- My name is Y/N," You felt crazy for talking to, what seemed like, nothing.

But you knew you'd regret it if you didn't at least try. It was obvious there was something in that house with you. Vases don't just fall over. Speaking of vases, your eyes meet the shards on the floor and among them was a folded up piece of paper. You tilted your head slightly and cautiously made your way over to it. You didn't remember putting anything in that vase. As you grew closer, your heart burned brighter. With a deep breath, you pick up the paper and unfold it.

Beej was right over your shoulder, watching in anticipation as you read one of his old flyers. He was grinning from ear to ear, exposing his fangs and he was bobbing up and down like an excited child.

You raised an eyebrow as you read the dusty flyer. It had the word 'Betelguese' written on it three times, and at the top it says 'read out loud'. You opened your mouth to say the magic words but you hesitate. Beej noticed your hesitation and his heart stopped, figuratively of course. Were you not going to say it? Why wouldn't you? You were soulmates!

You glances down at your chest and nearly have to look away from how bright it was. That was enough to make you forget about all your fears. Whatever was about to happen, you were going to meet the one. You took a deep breath before reciting the words.

"Beetlejuce..." The man himself nearly squealed when you said his name. 'This is it! It's happening!!!'

"Beetlejuce..." You glanced around, trying to see any changes in your surroundings. Meanwhile, Beej was twitching like mad, his hair was vibrant green and the tips were turning slightly pink.

"Beetlejuce-" You barely managed to get the word out when you were surrounded by a green mist and suddenly tackled to the ground.

"OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I'VE WAITED FOR YOU!!! AT FIRST I THOUGHT YOU DIDN'T EXIST BUT HERE YOU ARE!!-" You stared up at the man above you with your mouth slightly agape as he rambled.

At first you wanted to push him away and run for the hills. But then your eyes meet with his glowing chest. This was him? This was your soulmate? He's-

"Well don't look so disappointed..." He was deflated and his hair was streaked with purple. He must have seen the not so enthusiastic expression on your face.

"I- I- Sorry I just- I didn't think my soulmate would be...." You stumbled over your words as you tried to explain yourself.

"A dead guy?" Beej had floated off you and hoisted you up, his arms now crossing over his chest.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed by your reaction. Sure, he might have came on a little strong, and sure he wasn't exactly alive... Actually he kind of understood where you were coming from. But that didn't mean he liked it.

"Yeah....Well, actually I did know you were dead. I just didn't think I'd ever meet you..." You rubbed your arm awkwardly as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"Well, here I am." He strikes a dramatic pose and flashes a grin.

You could tell that it was forced. You guessed that his hair was like a mood ring type thing. So seeing it with streaks of purples and blues made your heart hurt. Even though you just met him, you felt.... something. Maybe he really was your soulmate.

"It's- It's uh- It's really good to meet you." Although you were a stuttering mess, you managed to offer him a genuine smile as you extended you hand for him to shake.

He glanced from your hand to your face multiple times before taking it. Then immediately pulls you into a tight embrace.

"Sorry that your stuck with me as your soulmate..." His voice was small and almost inaudible.

He goes to pull away when he doesn't immediately feel you return the hug but you stop him by wrapping your arms around his torso. He seemed slightly surprised by this and you could hear him sniffling. Was he.... crying? You felt tears form in your eyes as well and you rub his back soothingly.

"I'm just glad that I won't be alone anymore..." Your voice matched his in volume and you could feel his grip tighten on you.

The two of you stayed like that for a long while. Beej was mentally cursing himself for letting himself break down in front of you, but he just couldn't help it. You had to tell him multiple times that you weren't disappointed and that he was exactly what you wanted. When you first met him you weren't too sure. But as soulmates go, you fell for him fast and hard.

When Beej finally pulls away from you, you place a sweet and tender kiss to his cheek. His eyes widened and the tips of his hair started to turn pink. Not even a second goes by before he cups your face smashes his lips against yours. You immediately returned the kiss, your lips curling into a smile against his. As your lips connected your hearts were the brightest they've ever been before, and you knew this was it. All the waiting. All the tears. Everything was worth it for this moment.

——————————————————————

Tag list: @meangirlsx

[starshinegoblin]

A Witchy Kind of Love

♥ Co-Written with @ruensroad ♥ Status: Completed ♥ Pairing: ZhanCheng (Lan Wangji x Jiang Cheng) ♥ AU: Modern Witches/Familiars; Hurt/Comfort; Coming Together; Happy Ending ♥ Where to Read: AO3 | Only chapter one will be posted on Tumblr.  ♥ Author’s Note: If you don’t like this paring then do not read it. Absolutely do not send either us disgusting hate messages here or on AO3 about you not liking this paring. Just move on and live your best life. Otherwise! Enjoy ♥

-------

“Of course you wouldn’t be XianXian’s familiar. It all makes sense now…” Jiang Fengmian said as he stared his son down with that disappointed look that Jiang Cheng was all too familiar with. Jiang Cheng swallowed the shame all the same. He’d tried his best and it seemed like he would have been chosen because he had a good bond with Wei Wuxian. However, Wen Ning had appeared with his sister Wen Qing into their part of the familiar realm Lotus Pier. It so happened Wei Wuxian was visiting and the two met.

“You couldn’t even be that brat’s familiar? What’s the point in you being here now!” His mother said with an icy edge that Jiang Cheng felt actual pain. His mother had been the one pushing him to try to bond more with Wei Wuxian.

“Maybe you should just take a walk? Let them calm down, it's not like they are going to make you leave.” Jiang Yanli said, softly trying to comfort him. “You’ll find your own Bond like me and A-Xian.”

“That’s a great idea, A-Li! At first light you’re to leave and find your witch then you can come back!” Jiang Fengmian said with a grin on his face and a look in his eyes that broke the last bit of hope in him that his father actually cared about him. HIs sister had at least had the decency to look horrified though did nothing and his mother had been pleased because this was an appropriate punishment for a failure such as him.

Jiang Cheng had known that it wasn’t going to be a good breakfast with his family when Wei Wuxian had met his familiar, Wen Ning. All this father’s hope that he’d been the familiar of his former friend that was a witch went down in flames and his mother had only wished for it because it would stop his father’s daydreaming. What he hadn't expected was to be thrown out the next morning. He felt like his heart was breaking when his mother had all but disowned him.

He didn’t even bother to take anything but his bell. That he attached to his sash. A gift he’d been preparing to give his witch. He wouldn’t wait for the morning. What's the point in avoiding the inevitable? It’s not that they truly cared, did they?

Jiang Cheng’s eyes burned as he ran away from the only home he’d ever known. From the family he thought cared for him. No, he wouldn’t go back. If he ever found them. Supposedly familiars are forever linked. So in each life in some way he’d find his way  to the one who’d care for him.

He left the familiar spiritual realm of Lotus Pier  into what was Shanghai. And of course the moment he stepped out in his familiar form as a black cat it was raining. Not a soft mist, but a cold heavy pelting followed by rolling thunder. His hackles rose in this form but he focused on finding a spot. He needed to quickly before he got sick, because that would be his luck after what happened. He would get sick and die alone.

Jiang Cheng got off the sidewalk and saw the signs of a park. He’d remembered that a lot of them had benches or maybe a tree he could climb up in to try to get dry. Though the rain was only coming down harder and the benches that he was close too all had those metal slats.  Sadly the trees were all manicured and lacking in the coverage needed to protect him from the rain. Jiang Cheng huffed as he sat in front of one staring at the bench like somehow it would morph into what he needed. His ears twitched hearing the sound of shoes on pavement but he ignored it.

Suddenly, the rain was no longer falling on him. The pattering of it striking a tight, slick fabric made soft music instead.

He had ignored the feet, but the owner of said feet had not ignored him. Even with such neat, tidy clothes, the man wasted no time in tilting his umbrella to cover Jiang Cheng. His left arm was already soaked.

If the man cared, he didn’t show it. His eyes were kind, though his face was impassive, and a strong current of magic flowed through him. He crouched over the mud to get a good look at Jiang Cheng.

“Lost?” he asked, gentle and unthreatening. He offered his free hand for Jiang Cheng to sniff just as a crack of thunder raged overhead.

“Nope.” Jiang Cheng answered resolutely. Because he had nowhere to go. He still didn’t even bother to look up. It wasn’t like there was a magic red string that could help him find his witch. No, that’s not how bonds worked.  “I am not a pet, human.” He ignored the hand. There wasn’t a reason for him to accept. No one would want a bone soaked cat.

“You are not,” the man agreed, hearing the cat sniffle. No doubt, he had been in the rain long enough to get sick. That thick fur was soaked through.

It was clear the brown mackerel tabby was a stubborn sort, but the man was too, and he quickly tried a different tack. “Hungry?”

Jiang Cheng blinked and finally deigned to look up at his bystander. His eyes narrowed seeing the magical aura around him. It was calm and an icy blue. The way it moved let him know that he was a witch and a musical one at that. Which was nice but it also stung because that’s what kind of aura that Wei Wuxian had.

He pushed that thought away to focus on the man. He was tall and lean. Clearly a runner. His hair was shoulder length and dark with a bluish tint to it that made his ember eyes stand out. The man was dressed in a light blue turtleneck that peeked out from a pristine white pea coat and jeans.

A sneeze ruined his train of thought. His wet paw rubbing it from the burn he’d felt. Jiang Cheng internally sighed feeling that it was warm which meant he was probably going to be sick. He’d been right that the powers that be were against him. His stomach growled at the thought of food. That’s when he remembered that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast this morning and had been too anxious to eat after finding out about Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian.

“I am fine.” Jiang Cheng said stubbornly. He could find something he was sure and it wouldn’t be smart to just trust the first witch he’d seen. The weather alone was a sign. But his stomach growled again just as the words had come out of his mouth.

To the man’s credit, he didn’t quite snort, but there was definitely some sort of huffed breath at that. “You will get sick,” he said, knowing the familiar already was, and turned his face to point down the street. The sky was so dreary and dark, it was hard to make out his home, which was a three story house squeezed between two older apartment buildings. It had a red door from the previous owner, which he’d kept, liking the striking accent. Now, he was thankful he’d kept it for another reason, for it was visible even through the rain.

“Red door,” he said softly. “Free food and a warm hearth. You are welcome to come. Stay as you like, go as you like.”

“Why? Is that what you do? Take stray familiars?” Jiang Cheng sassed, feeling the sting of that being what he was now. A stray. He sneezed again and he swatted his nose, sadly entertaining the thought that perhaps he should have waited till morning.

“Sometimes,” the man said, calm in that. It was true enough. He did meet a few strays - familiar and regular animals alike - that needed help. “Have none of my own. Help where I can.” He didn’t bother offering his hand again, given that sniffling meant Jiang Cheng couldn’t smell him. He moved the umbrella more over the cat instead, uncaring that he was getting wet. “No charge to stay.”

Immediately, Jiang Cheng wanted to tell him no, but he couldn’t go home. Well...what had been his home. He let out an audible sigh as he tried not to cry. Because that’d be the cherry on top of a terrible day. Crying in front of the witch while being rude to him. He also needed to think about the situation. Jiang Cheng had nowhere to go and this witch was offering. Though he was still a bit weary that the witch would trap him.

“No tricks or I’ll claw your eyes out.” Jiang Cheng finally caved as he moved onto all four paws.

“No tricks,” the man agreed and held his umbrella over Jiang Cheng as they slowly walked to the tall, squashed house with a red door. He’d been about to wrap the cat up in his pea coat, carry him there, but Jiang Cheng was clearly a proud creature and would probably not appreciate it. There would be plenty of time to get him warm and dry once inside, anyways.

The key he took out of his pocket was antique and long, with a flat head for the lock. He had to turn it completely through the lock nearly twice, and there was a soft rumble through the building, the magic shivering through it, welcoming them both.

He held the door for Jiang Cheng to move through, right into a small entryway with a spot for outdoor shoes and indoor shoes. It was old concrete, so there was no harm in standing there a moment dripping.

“Be right back,” the witch said, tucking out of his shoes and wet pea coat. He shook out the umbrella outside then shut the door, which locked itself with a winding mechanism much like a clock’s. Shuffling into his indoor slippers, the man stepped up into the entry-hall, which had glossy, dark hardwood floors and moved quickly towards his bathroom to grab a towel.

He came back and knelt down, holding the towel open so Jiang Cheng could walk into it. “Here.”

Jiang Cheng considered it and hesitated only for a moment before stepping forward into the warm towel. He’d only ever been touched by Wei Wuxian and his sister in this form since he was kitten. His eyes closed to keep the tears at bay again. It was best to try not to think about them. He knew though that it was easier thought than done.

The man rubbed him vigorously with the towel, drying him off. He could better hear the cat’s thick breathing now that the rain was muffled through the door. “May I carry you?” he asked, wrapping the towel around Jiang Cheng like he was a kitten burrito. “Living room not far. Has a fireplace.”

“No funny business.” Jiang Cheng sniffled. He’d been strong and hadn’t purred when the drying off started to feel a lot like scratching. It’d been a while since he’d been petted. He swatted his tail at the witch. “I am Jiang Wanyin.” Jiang Cheng finally decided to share his name with the witch.

“Lan Wangji,” the man gave him, then carefully lifted him up into his arms, cradling him like he was a babe. He further wrapped the towel around Jiang Cheng and moved towards his living room as promised. The fireplace came to life with a mere thought, warming the room in a golden glow. It was a traditional looking space, for all the building was more western in design. It had a low table and a daybed couch near the fire, but also a recliner. Lan Wangji set him on the recliner since it was closest and softest.

“I’ll be back,” Lan Wangji said again, removing the damp towel and trading it for a dry blanket. Then he was out of the room to make a quick bowl of food for his new guest, leaving Jiang Cheng there to get settled.

Jiang Cheng settled into the warm cushion of the seat. He kneaded and circled till he felt comfortable enough to sit down. Well loaf down was the correct term.  To just lounge wasn’t something that he did around anyone really. For fear of being called lazy. He tucked his tail in and listened for Lan Wangji. The witch's home was comfortable and nothing like his siblings' own homes. It smelled of sandalwood and patchouli.  His gaze shifted to the guqin on the table and with the swirl of clouds of his design made him think of Wei Wuxian’s youth at the Cloud of Recesses.

Soft footsteps approached around the smell of fish. Lan Wangji quietly crossed the room to him with a plate of lightly steamed shredded trout. He set it on the recliner next to Jiang Cheng and tucked the blanket around the cat a little more, making sure he was warm and fed.

Once satisfied that Jiang Cheng was comfortable, he neatly folded himself behind the guqin and started to tune the instrument, his magic shimmering over the strings. He plucked softly, so as not to disturb his guest, obviously not one to push too much into Jiang Cheng’s business or force awkward conversation.

Jiang Cheng ate as quietly as he could after smelling it to make sure that it hadn’t been tampered with. Not that he’d truly smell any right now. His eyes got droopy from the good trout, Lan Wangji’s playing, and the warmth from the fireplace. Just when he started to fall asleep he sneezed hard.

“I...I’m done.” Jiang Cheng announced, though he hadn’t eaten all of it. He probably should have but his stomach just wasn’t in the mood while his head felt the way it did. “Thank you, Lan Wangji.” He tried for nice but he was sure it sounded like he was annoyed.

Lan Wangji took it in stride, elegantly standing and taking the plate. Then, his head tilted, considering him. “Bonded or not?” he asked, needing to know if Jiang Cheng would be shifting human at some point. It would determine the medicine he needed to get for him.

“Not.” Jiang Cheng answered, bluntly. Dazed sapphire eyes gazed up at him. “And I wouldn’t be shifting anyways. I’m for my witch.” the last bit a little slurred from slight dizziness that was coming to him. He really shouldn’t have been out in that rain most of the day.

Lan Wangji just nodded. “Alright. Will be back with medicine,” he said and moved off, no judgement in his tone. He knew Bonds were important to familiars and he truly had only needed to know what medicine to grab. It was meant for smaller animals, but infused with his own magic, a cocktail just for familiars. He knelt down beside the recliner and held up the needleless syringe to Jiang Cheng’s nose. “Here. Good for colds and sleep.”

Jiang Cheng tried to smell it but all he really smelled was Lan Wangi and his sandalwood. So far the witch hadn’t tried to hurt or capture him. He swallowed, making the best choice for himself before opening to take the medicine. The mixture had settled on his stomach and started it’s job. He could feel the magic in it that told him Lan Wangji was the one who made this. It tasted mostly like he’d taken a bite of a strawberry pie. Which had him curious about the witch’s kitchen and cookbooks.

“Not bad.” Jiang Cheng offered instead of a thanks. That would be reserved for when he was better to see if the witch had tricked him. Even if it had been too late. At least he hadn’t thanked him for hurting him.

Lan Wangji took that as a good sign and simply tucked the blanket around Jiang Cheng more, then returned to his kitchen to clean out the medical syringe. He was hardly surprised to see Jiang Cheng’s eyes blinking slowly when he folded himself back behind his qin and began to play for him. He went with a lullaby that was infused with his qi, promoting deep sleep and present dreams. Jiang Cheng seemed like he needed that kind of kindness.

Sleep, he bid silently through the melody, watching Jiang Cheng from the corner of his eye. Feel better.

“Don’t trick.” Jiang Cheng reminded him, before he felt himself start to drift off to the lovely music that Lan Wangji was playing. His ears flicking. He prayed that he didn't purr as he slept was his last thought before falling into a deep sleep.

Lan Wangji continued to play, even though Jiang Cheng was sound asleep, and didn’t stop until his usual practice time was over. Then he got up to get dressed and readied his music room for the couple music students that would drop by for their lessons. He hoped all the giggling wouldn’t wake Jiang Cheng, but then he supposed there were worse things to wake up to, and thought no more on it when his first student of the afternoon showed up with her tiny qin on her back.

He had three students, a slower day, and it was a good hour before he needed to decide dinner when he escorted his final pupil to the door. The house fell silent again, calm with the echoes of children’s laughter and the magic of music being so earnestly learned. He moved quietly to the living room to check on Jiang Cheng. Seeing the cat still sound asleep was both endearing and worrying, and he could only hope the medicine was doing its job.

[alls-fair-in-pride-and-prejudice]

The Star King’s Labyrinth Part 1

part 2, part 3

As promised, here is part one of my Dragon Prince/Labyrinth mashup fic. Aaravos is in the role of the lovely Goblin Elf king, and my OC Lyra is the lucky poor unfortunate human to be whisked away. The plot of this fic will largely mirror that of the original Labyrinth, but I went ahead and changed a bunch of things. For one, I spent longer on exposition than the movie did. (In which we will see professors Viren and Opeli - which made me wonder if people in The Dragon Prince have last names?)

Rated T on AO3 because cursing. 

Tagging: @psijics​ and @king-bito​ (since you were the first I mentioned this idea to I figured you’d want to see I did the thing)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future parts!

~~~

Lyra was already stressed after her physics class earlier that day. She knew Professor Viren strict, but she had no idea it was this bad.

“I have made myself clear in the past, no late work is accepted in my class,” the physics professor said, not even looking up from the work on his desk.

“I’m not asking for credit; I’ll accept the zero. I just want to be able to do the online assignment to make sure I learn the material,” Lyra explained. She needed to master her understanding of gyroscopes to move on to future material, but the online problems were closed the moment the due date hit, and she could not even check her answers. “Please, I was sick. There was only so much schoolwork I could do before the cold medicine knocked me out.”

Professor Viren shot her a withering look from overtop his glasses. “Then perhaps you should have worked on this material earlier so getting sick wouldn’t have been a problem. If you want to succeed, you have to prepare in advance in case of these things.”

Lyra gritted her teeth, wanting to say something like “Since it’s clearly been a while since your student days, maybe you’ve forgotten how hard it is to keep your head above water in the day to day work.” Or maybe even something like, “I know they had only just accepted the heliocentric model when you were in school, but we modern day students have a lot more to cover, so some fucking basic empathy would be appreciated you pretentious asshole.” She held her tongue, only muttering to herself once out of his office, “it’s just not fair.”

At least she had multivariable calc afterwards. It was always entertaining if they went over something with applications in physics, because then they would witness one of Professor Opeli’s legendary anti-physicist rants. “You do not need to understand the underlying concepts. In fact, you’re probably better off not trying to. You just have to do the math and you’ll sail right through the classes. Don’t even bother with physics professors, they’re virtually useless.” she said once. A student said that Professor Viren would probably be offended to hear that.

Professor Opeli simply gestured to her stony expression. “Does this look like the face of a woman who cares what he thinks?”

Any good feelings Lyra had towards Professor Opeli were immediately dissipated once she decided to assign extra work for the fall break. It’s so unfair! Do these people not understand the concept of a break? Lyra wondered. 

The answer, of course, is “yes,” but college professors do not see days off from school as breaks, but more as lost time that must be made up.

Lyra, a fool that did not yet know that expectation is the root of all heartache, had set her hopes on a relaxing trip home for the four-day weekend. She wanted to go to the pumpkin patch and catch up on some reading while drinking hot apple cider. At the rate she was getting homework assigned, it appeared that she would be lucky to get the cider as a comforting treat while she worked.

At least her parents would help her with laundry and meals… she hoped.

But, as we have already established, Lyra was one to set her hopes too high. Her mother had forgotten that her daughter was coming home that weekend and had booked a gig that would require her and Lyra’s father to travel out of town for the weekend. “At least the dog doesn’t have to go in the kennel now,” Lyra’s mother said over the phone.

“Yeah, so on top of all the stress I’m under, I can also spend the weekend picking up dog shit,” is what Lyra wanted to say. Out loud, she said, “yeah it’ll be nice to cuddle with him this weekend.” Which, she supposed, was true. At least she had a furry companion to help ease her stress levels.

After a two-hour drive Thursday night, Lyra decided she could afford the rest of the evening to relax in the empty house. After taking Orpheus the labradoodle out to do his business, she made herself a cup of hot chocolate and curled up with a fantasy romance novel. It was extremely cliché and an easy read – by no means a great literary work – just how Lyra liked it.

It had just enough spooky elements in it to feel suited to the season too, a gothic vampire romance. The heroine rescued by a creature of the night and taken back to his castle (never mind that there were not castles just laying around in colonial United States, where the tale takes place).

Still, Lyra could not completely keep her mind on the story for her stress. She was already considering what online resources she would have to practice with since Professor Viren had such a stick up his ass that he couldn’t even leave the practice problems open to the students. Khan Academy maybe? It was invaluable in her high school days. Did they have college level coursework on there? How would her grades survive if she couldn’t learn this?

Lyra sighed, trying to turn her attention back to the fantasy world in hand. This was supposed to be her one chance to relax and she was not about to waste it. She reached for her mug only to discover the greatest of all tragedies: her hot cocoa had gone cold, and the marshmallows melted into a sticky inconvenience around the rim. Setting the mug back on the coaster, Lyra groaned. Orpheus, awoken from his nap on the floor by the noise, trotted over to Lyra, apparently deciding he needed belly rubs.

Lyra obliged him, making room for him to curl up next to her on the couch. Of course, despite his size, Orpheus was under the impression he was a lap dog, and there had to be careful maneuvering for Lyra to get some semblance of comfort once he decided she was his new bed.

Cuddling her dog had always been comforting in the past, but it was not long before Lyra wondered about her future, and she could fell the loneliness creeping in sitting in the otherwise uninhabited house. She couldn’t blame school stress for her inability to enjoy that moment, now could she? Why could she not enjoy what moments of rest she had? How was that fair?

Lyra could not deny that her grades were falling apart, and she wasn’t even sure that astrophysics was what she should pursue, but if she was not an academic, what was she? What else did she have going for her in this world after devoting her life since elementary school to good grades and academic success? Despite being a junior, she lacked any social connections that lasted more than a few months. Friendships were hard. She could never really figure out where she stood with people, always being as accommodating and friendly as possible to be safe. After the fact she always worried she came across as clingy, which would set the whole cycle of isolation over again.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if I could just run away from all of it?” Lyra mused aloud as she rubbed Orpheus’s ears. He did not respond, since he was a dog, and this isn’t the kind of story where animals start talking out of nowhere. “I guess that’s what I was hoping to accomplish by coming home this weekend, but my problems followed me here.” She inspected the art on the cover of the cheap paperback. “I want a castle. No, not a castle, I just want to run away somewhere that my problems don’t follow me. Where hot cocoa doesn’t get cold and gross and I don’t have to deal with stuck up professors and unreasonable deadlines.”

Lyra leaned back on the sofa, throwing her head back to look to the ceiling. She was not often one to talk to herself aloud, but perhaps it was the need to fill the empty space that made her voice her lamentations. Maybe some part of her, an instinctual part left over from the days when humans had to evade large predators, knew she was not really alone, that someone was listening in.

“I just wish I could leave this world altogether,” Lyra shouted to the (seemingly) empty room.

All the lights in the house flickered for a moment, then went dark, the only light coming from the streetlamps and moon outside. “It is my pleasure to grant your wish, Lyra,” replied a voice from the shadows.

Lyra leapt off the couch in alarm, spinning around to see where the intruder was. From what she could see, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Orpheus confirmed for her that something was wrong, raising his hackles and growling softly. Lyra grabbed a nearby decorative candlestick as an improvised weapon for self-defense. “Who’s there?”

There was no answer in any sort of verbal language, but Lyra felt an instinctual pull towards the entryway of the house. She crept along cautiously, Orpheus keeping close by her. She gave him a soft pat on his head as thanks for his loyalty.

In the entryway, across from the coat closet, was a small end table where keys and other assorted odds-and-ends were kept, with a mirror above it to check one’s appearance before leaving. As Lyra approached, she saw a figure in the mirror alongside her own reflection that became clearer bit by bit, as if emerging from fog.

She knew she had to be going insane at that point. The first thing she noticed about the figure in the mirror was that he was purple with silver freckles across his skin. Then his horns, curving against a head of silver-white hair, became clear through the mist, and Lyra wondered if she was dealing with some sort of demon. The sclera of his eyes was black, and his irises were golden and almost glowed in the dim light. Those eyes carried, like the rest of the figure, a frightening sort of beauty, like lightning that strikes a little too close for comfort.

In the mirror, the strange figure stood next to Lyra wrapped in a black cloak with gold trim. Whatever he was… he certainly was not human. Against perhaps her better judgment, Lyra reached out to touch the glass of the mirror in disbelief of what she was seeing. The figure glanced down to where Lyra’s hand met her reflection and smirked.

The person in the mirror reached forward, and Lyra saw a sparkling violet hand reach out to touch hers on her side of the mirror. She screamed and whirled around, swinging the candlestick. The stranger caught her by her wrist, seeming only mildly annoyed at most.

“Is that any way to greet the one that just granted your heart’s desire?” the stranger asks, with a deep baritone voice like honey.

“Granted… what?” Lyra sputtered, taking a moment to find her voice, and managing to wrench back her wrist from his grip in the process. Lyra realized that at some point in her shock, Orpheus had disappeared. So much for a loyal companion. She took a cautious step back from the very strange man in her house, finally settling on one question to start: “Who the fuck are you?”

The man took Lyra’s hand, bowing and placing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. She tried to ignore the fluttering of her heart at the gallant gesture. “I am Aaravos, king of this realm. You wished to leave your world, so I brought you here.” He stood, snapping his fingers, and the walls dissipated like mist, leaving the two of them standing in a twilit forest.

Lyra looked around, taking in the ethereal surroundings: the lights like tiny multicolored stars hanging in the branches, and the floating bits of stardust around them. They stood on a hillside, and in the distance, atop another hill, a gleaming castle with impossibly tall and spiraling spires reached into the night sky. Surrounding it in the valley below was a labyrinth so large and twisted it could rival Greek myth.

“And… where is here?”

Aaravos leaned against a nearby tree that bended and curved upon his approach to something more comfortable to rest against. “This was once a realm that served as a prison, but those that sent me here underestimated my power and my ability to mold this world into something more suitable. These days, I find I prefer my new home to the one that banished me. You would be advised to stay close to me, and I can help you avoid the areas that still serve as places of torment.”

“Torment??” Lyra laughed, a tense and nervous sound that grated even on her own ears. “This is just a weird dream. I fell asleep on the couch and I will wake up any minute now… right? Right? I just… I want to go home.”

Aaravos’s face scrunched up in confusion, and a darkness took hold of his gaze as he stalked toward her. “Not five minutes ago, you wished to leave your home. I have graciously granted your wish, and now you would rudely refuse my gift to you?”

Lyra gulped, debating whether she should appease this being with an apology, or whether she should try to reason with him and defend her right to go home. When looking up into the face of this man that radiated dangerous power, Lyra’s sense of self-preservation demanded she choose the former. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice quiet and shaky, “I did not mean to offend.”

Aaravos smiled, reaching up to brush his fingers along Lyra’s cheek. The sweet caress made her shiver, though she was not sure if it was from fear or… something else. “Nothing in this world or any other, dear Lyra, is truly free. I will admit I had an ulterior motive for bringing you here.”

Lyra sucked in a deep breath, staring up at Aaravos with as much courage as she could muster. “And what was that, exactly?”

Aaravos grinned. “I am terribly bored, and you little humans are so interesting.” He took a lock of Lyra’s dark hair that had fallen from her bun and twirled it around a finger. “I could get a lifetime’s worth of entertainment just watching how you react to magic that is so commonplace for me. Do you really wish to go back to your dull human world with your deadlines and lonely nights? Reading books about magical adventures instead of having your own?”

Lyra hesitated, tempted by the offer... but it all sounded too good to be true. There had to be another catch, and she knew she could not trust this Aaravos to be transparent. Besides, as frustrating as it was at times, she loved her studies. She loved her family and her dog and she could not give that up forever. “Please, let me go back. I didn’t mean it when I said I wanted to leave. I was just frustrated. Let me go, please.”

Aaravos sighed melodramatically. “Oh, if you insist… I suppose I shall have to amuse myself some other way.”

Lyra almost laughed in relief. She began to say her thanks, but Aaravos cut her off with a look that carried a sadistic glee to it. “Let’s play a game, then,” he said, his tone sharp and without any of the softness it carried moment before. With a wave of his hand, a clock floated above his palm. “I will give you thirteen hours. If, in that time, you can make it through that labyrinth to my castle, I will send you home. If not, you will stay here forever.” With a snap of his fingers, the second hand on the clock began ticking.

“Wait!” Lyra cried, “I never agreed to that! What kind of deal is that?”

Aaravos cocked a snowy white eyebrow. “You seem to be under the impression, little star, that I was asking your permission. No. I have simply informed you of your current predicament. If you wish to return home so badly, I suggest you get moving. After all,” he gestured to the floating clock with a nod of his head, “the clock is ticking.”

In a flash of blinding white, Aaravos disappeared, and Lyra was no longer on the hilltop, but staring at an elegantly carved stone archway possibly thirty feet tall. She stomped her foot and shook her fist at the sky. “YOU BASTARD,” she screamed, “That’s not fair!”

Left with no other option, Lyra stepped through the archway into the labyrinth.

A/N: Opeli’s disdain towards physics professors is based off an actual calc professor I had. The physics and calc professors I had that semester talked shit about each other and their departments. It was great.

Lyra is a college student because an immortal elf hitting on a 21-year-old is less creepy than one hitting on a 16-year-old. In her original universe, Lyra’s parents were bards, so I decided to leave them as vague performers/musicians in the modern world. 

[hookedontaronfics]

Under His Spell

Title: Under His Spell Pairing: Taron x reader Rating: M Warnings: Smut [fingering, unprotected sex] A/N: Wanted to write a fun little one-shot for Halloween. I’m a couple days late but who’s counting? Halloween never really has to end! There are no tricks, only treats for you in this sexy one shot, so enjoy! x

October 31: Your favorite day of the year. A day full of tricks and treats and pranks and spooks, where people let themselves have a little fun. All Hallow’s Eve wasn’t just for little kids, and everyone usually tried to get in the spirit somehow, whether it was just wearing a fun T-shirt or accessory at work or donning a full-on costume, decked out to the nines at a party. Either way, you loved sharing in the spirit of the day, and this year was no exception.

In fact, you were incredibly excited because this year you’d been invited to a somewhat exclusive masquerade costume party. Your job as an executive assistant meant you had worked for someone who knew someone, and you were pretty sure there might even be some celebrities in the mix at the event. You wondered if you’d be able to recognize them by their voice and mannerisms; it would be a fun night trying to guess. You had also spent a lot of time and money on your costume and were sure it would be a hit, so you were looking forward to the evening even if you’d have to schmooze with your boss.

As soon as you got home from work, you scarfed the Chinese takeout you’d picked up, stuffing noodles in your mouth even as you plugged your curling iron in, letting it heat up while you ate. You didn’t have much time to get ready, and you wanted everything to be perfect, from your hair to the makeup to the mask you’d spent many hours with a glue gun creating. The rhinestones had been a bitch to work with, but oh so worth it.

You finished your food and quickly curled your hair and did your makeup before carefully pulling on your stockings, boots and the dress you’d designed and sewn, inspired by Christine Daaé from the “Phantom of the Opera.” After graduating from college with a fashion degree, you’d found it difficult to break into the scene so you mostly used your skills for Halloween costumes while working as a personal assistant for your boss and his contingent of clients. You really didn’t mind that work; the pay was fantastic and the work relatively easy. Maybe someday you’d design and try to sell an entire collection to the fashion houses, but for now this sort of work paid the bills.

You affixed the mask on your face and took a look at yourself in the mirror; you were hardly recognizable as yourself. The bra you’d bought specifically for this costume gave you decolletage you normally didn’t have, and the dress was rather plunging though you’d sewn in a nude mesh panel to keep something to the imagination, but the slit along the side also went all the way up your thigh. It was sexy but tasteful, and that’s how you hoped to come across that evening.

You deemed yourself as ready as you’d ever be, took a couple of photos and texted them to your best friend for approval, and walked outside immediately to be blasted with a gust of cold air. “Nope!” you squealed, running back in and grabbing your winter jacket and gloves. You were just going to have to deal with your winter gear; it was far too cold to go bare-shouldered.

You took the tube across London, and many people were dressed up; you were pretty sure you spied a banana, a taco, and a handful of Spice Girls. No one else seemed to bat an eyelash, and you spent the ride across the city texting back and forth with your best friend, who had squealed at how gorgeous you looked. You normally spent your days in work slacks or leggings, but today you actually did feel pretty, and wondered if you’d catch anyone’s eye tonight. Not that you were necessarily looking for a hookup, but what happened on Halloween night, stayed on Halloween night.

You were actually feeling nervous by the time you reached your tube stop, and you followed the Google directions to the proper street, gasping at the size of the house; well, really it looked like a mansion to you. Whoever was throwing this party was exceedingly rich, and you almost turned away before someone you presumed was a valet approached you and escorted you inside. They led you to the coat check and you marveled at the architecture of the entrance hall alone, mesmerized by the place, which was decorated to the nines. You couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Christmas; these were the kind of people who probably paid for it to be decorated for literally every holiday and season.

You wandered in amongst the crowd, most people already paired off in the groups they arrived with, and you quickly acquired a flute of champagne from one of the trays being carried about by servers. You knew what your boss was wearing, as he’d made sure you could find him, but you weren’t tall and so you had to weave yourself in and around people chatting animatedly, avoiding random flailing arm and stepping around already-tipsy masked men and women. The place was dripping in decadence and you felt slightly out of place, to be honest.

Suddenly a man swayed into your path and you jumped back in order to keep him from knocking you over, but you had backed into someone else on accident behind you. You spun around quickly to apologize, feeling embarrassed, but the apology died on your lips as you took in the costumed man in front of you.

“Ahhh, my Christine, I’ve been looking all over for you!” he grinned congenially, making your heart skip a few beats. The suit and cape he was wearing were sharp and fit his body well but that’s not what you noticed first. His green eyes peered out at you from behind a Phantom mask, but it had been done in an inventive way so the whole face was covered; the part that wasn’t white was done in glittery black. You had no idea who was behind that mask, but his smile was charming as hell.

“I, um, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Phantom,” you stumbled over your words as his eyes fairly twinkled at you, sweeping over your body and somehow making you feel exposed.

“The pleasure is certainly all mine,” he said, taking your hand so gently in his and placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “What’s a Phantom after all without his muse?” he asked, his voice somehow familiar to you even though you couldn’t place it. You weren’t even sure how to respond when someone put their hands on your shoulders from behind.

“There you are! Glad you could make it!” your boss said as you whirled around a bit.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” you replied with a laugh, turning to say something to the Phantom but he had already melted back into the crowd, like mist in the wind. You frowned slightly to yourself but hoped you’d run into each other again, and then followed your boss back over to his group, sipping your champagne and having small conversations with people he introduced you to, people whose names you wouldn’t remember after tonight.

You did have a fun time despite yourself, snacking on hors d’oeuvres and imbibing even more champagne, feeling a bit tipsy and also trying to catch further glimpses of the Phantom, but he was proving to be quite elusive as the evening wore on. Your boss was kind and engaging with you, but at some point got suckered into a conversation about stocks and bonds and you were entirely bored to death, so you quietly slipped away from the conversation, taking a self-led tour of the place and snapping a couple of pictures to send your friend.

<Can you believe this place?> you texted, standing next to some kind of pumpkin display, festooned in black and orange and purple lights and ribbons and cobwebs. 

“What’s a lovely woman such as yourself doing standing here all alone?” a voice asked you, and you turned around to find yourself face-to-face with the unidentified phantom again.

“I was looking for you!” you said in surprise, before you could think better of it.

“Were you?” he asked, and even if you couldn’t see his face, you could imagine him quirking his eyebrow up to match the crooked smile he gave you.

“Not for any particular reason,” you said, fidgeting with the sleeves of your dress slightly.

“Well, that’s too bad. I thought it’d be nice to get to know you better,” he said, taking a sip of the drink in his hand, a dark brown liquid swirling inside.

“Oh, I thought that too,” you said, almost shyly as he leaned in quite close to you. You were a bit overwhelmed with how beautiful he was, even though you could only see half his face. You resisted the urge to reach out and run your fingers along his sharp jawline; you were tipsy but not so drunk as to just randomly touch a man you didn’t even know. Still, the way he was staring at you made a thrill run down your spine.

“So what brought you here tonight?” he asked casually, both of you quite forgotten by the rest of the crowd in the little alcove you were standing in.

“Oh, I work for someone who was invited and I’m an exec assistant so I guess he just decided I should come along,” you shrugged. “What about you?”

“I … work in the entertainment business,” he hedged slightly.

“What kind of answer is that?” you laughed. “That could be anything at all.”

“Would you like to tour this house?” he asked suddenly, tipping his head back and downing the rest of his drink.

“Uh, sure,” you replied.

“Alright good, stay right here,” he said, squeezing your hand slightly before disappearing into the crowd again for a minute. You were confused but obliged, and when he returned he had two cold longnecks in his hands.

“Ahhh, good idea,” you laughed as he handed one off to you and you took a sip of the beer, which was surprisingly just a regular pedestrian brand. You giggled slightly as he took your hand again and led you toward the grand staircase.

“You sure we’re allowed?” you asked, and he just shrugged as you both nearly tripped on your dress on your way up the stairs, giggling and slightly out of breath when you reached the landing. It was much quieter up here, and you hadn’t realized how much the music had been making your head dizzy. Or maybe it was the alcohol you’d consumed. Or maybe just the close proximity of this handsome stranger beside you.

Either way, you followed after him, examining the massive paintings hanging on the walls along the plush carpeted hallway. “Imagine having so much excessive wealth that you could have a house like this. It’s practically like living in a museum,” he sighed. So definitely not rich then, you thought to yourself. Maybe some kind of production assistant? You were still trying to puzzle out who he was, still troubled by the fact that he seemed somehow familiar. But you were quite certain if you had known him from before, you would have recognized him immediately.

“What’s in here?” he said, just randomly opening doors, and you were mostly just amused at his antics. He was clearly way past drunk, but you were enjoying being in this space with him too much to point it out.

“Hey look, a study,” he said, pointing at it before pulling you inside and letting the door shut behind you. He searched for a desk lamp and found one, turning it on and illuminating the deep cherry wood paneling and burgundy carpet. 

“Damn,” you commented. “Pretty sure this room alone is more expensive than anything I’ll ever own in my lifetime,” you laughed.

“Definitely more bougie than anything I’d ever own,” he chuckled as you walked around, checking out titles on the bookshelves.

“Must be a lawyer. That would make sense,” you said as you ran your finger over the spines of the books before turning around and finding him standing right next to you, staring at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher thanks to the mask. He hesitantly reached out and then swept a lock of your hair off your shoulder, tilting his head and gazing at you.

“I’d quite like to kiss you,” he said, his voice a bit rough, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

“Okay,” you said, not even knowing why you had agreed, but something told you you wouldn’t be regretting it. He stepped in close, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath, but it didn’t bother you at all. He placed a hand at the nape of your neck and after hesitating a moment more, finally pressed his lips to yours. You had no idea who he was, but damn could he kiss like no one else. You felt like you’d suddenly tapped into a live wire as one kiss turned into another and into another. It was like neither of you could get enough of each other, and suddenly his tongue was dancing in your mouth with yours, setting your body alight as the kisses deepened into something much more needy. When you both had to come up for air, he looked a bit taken aback with his actions, but all you wanted was more.

“I’m terribly sorry, I… I’m not exactly the kind of guy to just kiss random ladies in random places,” he said, but you shook your head.

“Tonight’s a night for mystery and mayhem. If there’s any better night to find that, well, I’m glad I’ve found it with you,” you smirked lightly at him. His hesitation was sweet and kind of adorable, but all you could focus on was the insistent throbbing between your legs that he had awakened.

“Mystery and mayhem, yeah?” he chuckled, taking a long drag of his beer before setting it down on the edge of the desk. You walked up to him and pushed him up against the desk lightly, peering into those green eyes, seeing the evident lust there.

“No one else here but just the two of us. Perhaps the phantom would like to live out his fantasy with Christine after all?” you smirked. You’d never really come onto a guy before like this, but something about the masks made you brave. You could walk away from this never knowing each other, and it would be nothing more than a drunken memory. You saw him swallow hard, his green eyes wrestling with something for a moment, but he must have decided “fuck it” because he suddenly wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you into him, attacking you with fierce kisses that took your breath away.

You moaned slightly into his mouth as his fingers grazed over your bare shoulders, goosebumps already standing out on your skin as he dropped his kisses to our neck. You tilted your head to give him better access, those velvety smooth lips leaving fire along your skin. He turned you both around until you were the one leaning against the desk, and his hands had found the thigh-high slit in your dress, pushing the material aside and seeking purchase even as he trailed kisses over your chest, yanking the bodice of your dress low but not completely undressing you.

When his fingers found your aching, wet core, he let out a strangled sound to find you weren’t wearing anything underneath that dress. You groaned at the touch of his fingers over your folds, dragging your juices over your sensitive nub even as he captured your lips in kisses again. You were completely at a loss for what he was doing to you, your head thrown back in ecstasy; it was almost as if he’d put you under a spell, a sexy one at that, and you were helpless to break it.

“Oh shit,” you gasped as he slid two fingers into you, your fingers gripping his biceps for support as he started to pump them in and out of you slowly.

“You are so fucking hot,” he groaned, his voice deep and gravelly and full of lust for you. “I thought it the minute I saw you across the room. Never thought I’d get to have my way with you,” he growled, nipping your skin with his teeth.

“Oh god,” you gasped, trying to hold on but you could feel your muscles clenching, the spiral of your orgasm threatening to unravel. Suddenly he pulled his fingers away, leaving you wanting and desperate for more. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked your arousal from them, and you nearly came at the sight of that alone.

You immediately reached for the belt of his pants, undoing it quickly and then fumbling with the zipper before pulling them down, desperately needing more. He lifted you up slightly until you were sitting on the desk, then laying you down before lifting your skirt up and over your hips, spreading your legs wide. You whined in anticipation as he took his cock out of his briefs, stroking himself a few times before lining up with you and thrusting into you with abandon. You cried out, but it was more pleasure than pain as he filled you up completely, leaning over you and panting in your face.

“Fuck, darling,” he groaned, his hands splayed out on either side of you as you wrapped your legs around him, trying to pull him in even closer. He took the hint and started pounding into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the empty room. You tried to muffle your moans and groans but it was hard to do with this mystery man driving you absolutely insane. “That’s music to my ears, baby,” he spoke gruffly, his fingertips digging into your skin but you could care less. It was probably the hottest, craziest sex of your life, getting down to dirty business with a masked stranger in someone else’s house.

You didn’t even have time to reply as you started to cum around his length, your walls contracting around him, your entire body shaking as his thrusts began to grow sloppy. He soon spilled over into you, grunting as his cock twitched inside you and sent your entire world spinning. He pulled out quickly and looked around for something to clean you both up with, finding a packet of tissues in one of the desk drawers. You both quickly tried to put your clothes right again, giggling slightly together in your mutual drunk, post-sex haze.

“Do I...thank you now?” he chuckled, running his fingers through his slicked-back hair and messing it up a bit. 

“You don’t need to say anything at all. Just shut up and look pretty,” you giggled at his bemused expression. You reached over to smooth his hair back down and in a rare stroke of courage, slipped your fingers under the band holding his mask on and yanked it off his face. Your hands flew to your mouth and you gasped as you instantly recognized the man who had just fucked you into oblivion as none other than the Taron Egerton.

“Oh fuck,” you said, unable to tear your eyes away from him, as you’d had a crush on him for an embarrassingly long time. Your brain couldn’t even reconcile what you’d just done with him and the fact that he was standing there in front of you. If this got around, if anyone ever found out, you’d be completely scandalized. You could never live this down, you could never tell anyone. You felt suddenly, painfully sober as you hopped off the desk and pushed him away from you, ignoring his confused, hurt expression.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” you gasped, turning and fleeing out of the room, chastising yourself angrily even though there was no way you could have known it was him. But hadn’t you recognized that sexy voice, that sharp jawline, those sweet eyes? How had you not put it all together?

“Wait!” he called down the hallway as you headed for the stairs, hoping all of your body parts were covered. You tore down the steps two at a time and grabbed your coat from the coat check. A few people threw glances at your haste but didn’t try to stop you. You threw your coat on, glancing over your shoulder to see Taron descending down the stairs after you, but you already had a head start. You pushed your way out of the doors and into the cold night air, fleeing down even more stairs as one of the valets yelled out “Have a good night, miss!” You were fighting tears that were blurring your vision and two steps before the sidewalk you managed to trip on your dress, missing the last step and scraping your knee as you fell to the concrete. The fall had knocked the breath out of your lungs and you laid there for a moment, staring up at the dark, cloudy sky, blinded by the lights of the mansion.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Taron asked, kneeling down next to you and helping you sit up.

“I’m fine,” you said, brushing off your hands, your teeth already chattering from the bite of the air.

“Why did you run away from me?” he asked you, his eyes searching yours for some answer you weren’t sure you could give.

“I’m not some amazing actress or pretty woman you should be with. I’m just a nobody and… I’m not good enough to be with you,” you said, pulling the edges of your coat around you and staring at the blood welling up from the scrape on your knee.

“That’s bloody nonsense. You already told me who you were and I still chose to be with you. It’s not about money or fame or looks for me. You intrigued the hell out of me,” he said, gently removing the mask from my face and gazing at me fully. “ And you are absolutely beautiful, and I sure as fuck don’t regret what just happened back there,” he added softly. “But let’s get you back inside, and clean that up, and warm you up, and then you can tell me your name, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but nod at that; the way he was looking at you sent shivers of a different sort down your spine. He helped you limp back up the stairs and after making you sit on the toilet in the bathroom [which was as extravagant as every other part of the mansion], he went in search of some bandaids and returned after being successful, doctoring your knee up to the best of his ability. He’d also brought you a bottle of water and you took it gratefully when he handed it to you. “Y/n,” you said, as he took a seat on the edge of the tub. “My name is y/n.”

“Taron, but you already knew that,” he said, smiling at you a bit sheepishly. “And I really don’t do that, you know,” he said.

“I really don’t either, Taron. This was supposed to be no strings attached. I could walk away never knowing who you were.”

“But do you want to walk away, now that you know it’s me?” he asked quietly, looking vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected. It was almost like he’d grown attached to you somehow, but neither of you really knew each other, and that was the startling reality of it.

“I don’t, but where the hell would we go from here?” you asked, watching as a wicked grin spread over his face.

“My place, for starters. We could certainly get to know each other better,” he said, quirking an eyebrow at you, and you couldn’t deny the excitement rising in your chest at the thought of that. “I might have more tricks and treats up my sleeves after all,” he said with a smirk, his eyes burning into you a bit. “So should we leave and see what else the night has in store for our long-lost lovers?” he said, his words tugging at your heart yet again. You were at his total mercy, it seemed, caught up in the spell of this green-eyed man who was no longer just a stranger.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said as he reached out his hand to you. You placed yours gently in his and let him escort you out of the bathroom. You had to laugh when the song being pumped through the sound system was appropriately “Music of the Night,” part of whatever spooky playlist someone had put together. The mood was fitting as you swept back out into the night, the cold wind making the edges of Taron’s cape flutter around you both. You would never have guessed when you’d chosen this costume that you would have been caught up in the magic and madness of the night. 

But one thing that night was for certain; Taron had taken possession of your soul, and you were completely at his mercy. He was sweetly intoxicating, more than just a face behind a mask, and the best part was that he was all yours.

[theazkabandreamer]

Spider Porridge

As a two-year-old, Rose was at that age where she was into everything and it became impossible for Ron and Hermione to leave her for less than a minute.

She had recently developed the habit of picking things up and putting them in her mouth, much to Ron’s horror. Hermione told him not to worry about it. It was a phase that she was going through and she would soon grow out of it.

One morning, Hermione was busy at the kitchen table with her report on House Elf welfare whilst Rose was having breakfast. So far, Rose was quiet and eating her porridge which Hermione appreciated. She had a lot to do and the deadline for her report was coming up faster than the Hogwarts Express.

“Mummy, there’s a big spider!” Rose exclaimed suddenly.

“Yes, Rosie, she’s made her web outside the window, “Hermione said absentmindedly.” Now eat your porridge, there’s a good girl.”

Hermione continued to work on her report, but Rose sounded as if she were straining to reach something.

Hermione looked up and saw a large spider on the table about a foot away from Rose.

“Don’t touch it, Rosie,” Hermione said sharply, whipping her wand out before Ron could see it. She knew what he was like when it came to spiders.

“Blimey, that’s a big one,” came a voice from the kitchen doorway and Hermione looked around to see Ron standing there, his face pale as he looked at the spider in disgust.

Ron whipped his wand out and with a hovering charm, sent the spider zooming out of the window. Rose giggled at the sight and clapped her tiny hands.

“That spider went flying!” she exclaimed.

Rose always loved it whenever Ron and Hermione performed magic in the house. Hermione thought it was important to encourage Rose about her abilities and teach her at an early age.

“That’s right,” Ron said cheerfully to Rose who was looking at him in awe.

Despite her surprise, Hermione had to admit that he looked quite heroic framed in the kitchen doorway with his dressing gown billowing behind him like a muggle superhero.

“The best ride a spider could have,” Ron continued. “Now, how about we finish that lovely porridge before I eat it all?”

Ron made his way towards Rose and picked up her bowl and Rose squirmed with excitement. Hermione had to suppress a snort. Sometimes, Rose had Ron wrapped around her little finger.

“Ron,” Hermione said, feeling dazed. “I never knew you had it in you.”

“That thing was distracting Rosie,” Ron said, shrugging. “You know how much she likes her food.”

“But you always let me deal with the spiders,” Hermione said with a laugh.

“That spider was nothing,” Ron said, feeding a spoonful of porridge to Rose. I’ve met worse spiders. Aragog for instance- Told his kids to eat Harry and me- I was useless that night, let me tell you and I still have nightmares about it. But that little thing isn’t anything to worry about. Still wouldn’t touch it though.”

Ron shuddered, a dark look briefly appearing on his face before he fed Rose her last spoonful of porridge.

“All gone, Rosie.”

“More tomorrow,” Rose said matter-of-factly.

Ron sent Rose’s bowl to the sink with a wave of his wand. Rose watched in awe again as the bowl began to wash itself. She craned her neck to watch her bowl being washed up.

“My bowl is having a bath,” Rose said, her little face lighting up with a look of wonder.

“It looks a bit empty, that bath,” Ron said slowly, giving Rose a sideways look, his blue eyes twinkling. “What do you think it needs?”

“Bubbles!” Rose said at once, bouncing in her chair.

“You’ve read my mind,” Ron gasped, pretending to be shocked.

Rose giggled and Ron flicked his wand at the sink. Several, large multicoloured bubbles blossomed from the sink and floated around the kitchen. Rose was jumping in her chair trying to catch one.

Ron jabbed one with his wand and it burst, spraying him with a fine mist of water. Rose giggled and demanded that he do it again, so Ron had to pop all the bubbles with his wand until Rose was sufficiently entertained.

Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to get on with her report, Hermione cast an impervious charm on it and sat back watching Ron and Rose.

When at long last all the bubbles had been popped, it was time for Rose to leave the table.

“What do you say to daddy, Rosie?” Hermione asked.

“Thank you, daddy,” Rose said automatically and she turned around and gave Ron a big hug.

The sight made Hermione’s eyes well up with tears and she immediately dabbed at her eyes with a bit of tissue.

“You’re most certainly welcome, my little princess,” Ron said cheerfully. “I don’t think you would want spider porridge, even though it’s supposed to be added flavour.”

“It wouldn’t be as bad as the worm soup,” Hermione said and her eyes met Ron’s and they both laughed. Rose joined in even though she didn’t know what they were laughing about.

“Poor Harry. James was so proud of himself,” Ron said, wiping a stray tear from his eye. His tone of voice made Hermione crack up in laughter again.

“You put him up to it, didn’t you?” Hermione said, shooting her husband a glare.

“That’s my boy,” Ron said with pride and Hermione snorted. “Speaking of my other boy, is Hugo not up yet?”

“He’s having a lie-in,” Hermione said. “He gets that from you.”

Ron wiped Rose’s face with a cloth and set her down on the kitchen floor where she rushed off to the living room with the promise that she wouldn’t touch anything that wasn’t hers.

Hermione got up from the table, stretched and went over to Ron and kissed him on the cheek.

“My hero,” she said and Ron’s ears turned bright red.

“That thing was huge,” He muttered. “I saw her trying to grab it like she did with that snail and I went cold. I hope she grows out of that phase soon.”

“She will do,” Hermione said. “We just have to be patient.”

“It’s not the first time that I’ve had to face spiders for my girls,” Ron said.

“You mean Aragog?” Hermione asked and Ron nodded grimly.

“I didn’t want to go,” He said. “But we all have to face our fears sooner or later. I would rather be someone that my kids look up to.”

Hermione felt a surge of affection for her husband.

“Being a father suits you, Ron,” she said and Ron looked taller at that moment.

“It did Harry a wonder of good,” he said, his ears still red. “He’s like a different person now.”

Ever since James, Albus and Lily had entered Harry’s life, he had been a much happier person. Hermione noticed the same effect on Ron. Rose and Hugo had changed Ron for the better, creating a lot more laughter in the house.

Just then, there was a muffled cry from upstairs, jerking Hermione from her thoughts.

“I’ll be up soon, Hugo,” She called.

“You’re not going to finish that report on an empty stomach, are you?” Ron asked, putting his apron on. “Fancy some eggs?”

Hermione hadn’t had anything to eat yet and felt quite hungry, but she didn’t feel like finishing her report yet. Perhaps she could spend the day with Rose and Hugo. Ron had been nagging her to take a break and she could always finish the report in the evening.

“To be honest Ron, I’ve been working on this report quite a lot. I think it’s time that I take a break and spend time with my kids,” Hermione said and Ron beamed. “I’ll have some eggs. But no spiders.”

“No spiders, eh?” Ron said, grinning. “Now there’s a brilliant idea coming to a joke shop near you. Rosie will soon kick her habit. I just need to send George an owl.”

Hermione dreaded to think what ingenious prank her husband was planning, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it at the moment. She left the kitchen to collect Hugo.

On her way upstairs, she couldn’t help thinking how lucky she was to have Ron Weasley as her husband.

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Ten: Baggage

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Ten: Baggage

Note: All your comments on the last chapter about Vergil had me rolling on the floor laughing like an idiot. See this, this is the kind of chaotic energy I thrive off of. Thank you for allowing me to flourish like this!

(-~-)

4:50 am

A soft mist settled across the worn metal of the train tracks as the moon hung low, casting shadows across the dimly lit train station. The long beams of hardened steel shined from a combination of moisture and moonlight, making them look as new as the day they had been placed. Everything tended to look clean and new at night, and this was no different.

Everyone held their positions, babysitting their megar luggage (not so megar in some "cases") and the children in Nero's case as they awaited the arrival of the train. It would be here in a matter of minutes, and was supposed to be relatively empty considering the time of morning that it would be arriving during. Considering the fact that most of the locals were scared stiff of the dark at this point, getting them to stand at a train station in the middle of the night in dim lighting during a light sprinkle was totally out of the question. But that worked out better for them. And even if they were foolish enough to venture out during such trying conditions, Morrison had pulled some strings and, as a result, they basically had a whole train car to themselves. Apparently, someone owed him a favor and was in the good graces of the train company.

As Kyrie and Nico rounded up the children and took inventory of their belongings, Vergil took mental inventory of his surroundings. Dante had long since decided that he couldn't be bothered to stay awake and wait for the train, so he had made himself comfortable on a nearby bench and dozed off, much to his older twin's bewilderment. How Dante was capable of sleeping in such an unfamiliar environment was beyond him. Just a few feet away from him were Lady and Trish, trying to work out how they were going to get their luggage onboard the train. They had brought at least a month's worth of clothes on what would be, at most, a week long trip, and were having a difficult time reconciling the logistical challenge that came with moving that many bags. He would actually be amused by this if it weren't for the lingering feeling of discomfort that hung low in his gut, keeping him on edge. 

For a menagerie of complex yet obvious reasons, the prospect of spending several days with his two adult children put him seriously on edge. While waiting for the train, the realization that he actually had no idea what went on in either of his adult children's lives had slammed into him like a van into a brick factory, and he found this fact supremely unsettling.  Aside from the different abilities they possessed in battle and the basic facets of their dramatically different personalities, Vergil was forced to admit that he actually had no idea what his children were like below the surface level. And making small talk wasn't something anyone in their family was any good at. 

This was going to be… challenging.

As if called upon by the awkward atmosphere itself, V walked past silently, taking a moment to stop and catch his breath. For all his talents, waking up early and actually being functional were not qualities he possessed. While he was coherent, that didn't mean that he was at peak physical condition. Due to V's habits and general disposition, he was much better acquainted with the concept of staying up for long periods of time that he was with getting up at a moments notice and catching a train. He found the concept distasteful and exhausting.

Vergil glanced between their respective bags, half wondering what V had actually packed. While he was more than willing to believe that Nero and Nico owned clothing suited to an afternoon at the beach, the polar opposite could be said for his eldest son. V didn't come off to him as the type to even know how to shop for outdoor clothing, let alone own any. It was curious. Regardless of what he believed, the young summoner actually owned a luggage bag though, to the shock of literally no one present, it was a rolling one. While Vergil was more than aware of his son's condition, it put him off slightly to be reminded of it. Perhaps if he helped him with the bag…

Without a moment to spare, a vintage red convertible pulled to a stop in the parking lot and out stepped Morrison. He opened the car door on the opposite side of the car to allow Patty to exit, the young blond girl dragging an oversized rolling bag along behind her as she headed towards the loading ramp to join the others. Upon catching sight of Dante sleeping, she stopped and shook her head, clearly disapproving of his sleeping habits.

"Hey, at least he made it here on time," Nero said as he walked past her, finally finished with taking inventory of the children's personal belongings," We've gotta give him credit for something. I was sure he was going to be late. I got no idea how he managed to beat us here."

Vergil spared them a passing glance as he folded his arms across his chest. He most certainly shared patty's disapproval. "When the alternative is being impaled on the end of my blade, I find that he is usually willing to accommodate my demands. But there have been a few... exceptions," Vergil drifted off for a moment, thinking," Did you know he didn't own any cookware or dishes before today? It's truly absurd."

Nero shot him a knowing look, taking a step closer to V to assess his condition. "Yea, neither of those facts really surprise me. You're both insane, after all."

Patty shook her head, clearly entertained by the pent up tension that fueled their conversation. She had no idea what caused it, but she definitely found it funny. "See, I was right! Dante just needs motivation! And the best way to motivate him is to smack him with stuff. It all checks out."

Vergil stared at her blankly for a moment. Yes that was what his twin needed. Motivation.

Just a moment later the lumbering locomotive they were scheduled to be boarding blew its whistle, signaling it's approach. It didn't sound far off. Everyone scrambled to collect their things and receive their tickets from Morrison who laughed under his breath at the unorganized mess in front of them before wishing them a safe trip. Literally everyone he knew was a walking disaster, and it never got old. Or less funny.

Much to Nero's surprise, the only person who seemed totally at ease was V. The taller while haired descendant of Sparda was leaning against the streetlamp nearest to the tracks, having migrated there during the commotion. He had everything together and seemed to be quietly observing the children. Though the little ones were well behaved, this was their first time near a train. If Carlo's experience with hot soup was anything to go by, he needed to divert a bit of his attention towards maintaining the welfare of the children. Kyrie was keeping an eye on them, but she and Nico had their bags to deal with and Nero only had two sets of eyes. At least as far as he knew. He'd grown wings and a new arm during his absence. Anything was possible. Nero was practically a super advanced amoeba at this point as far as he was concerned.

"Were you… You know, um…," Nero's entire mental process flat lined as he made eye contact with V, unsure of how he wanted to phrase his proposal," Did you… ya know… need help with your bag, V?"

The young summoner blanched, his pupils dilating for a moment like an alarmed house cat before he blinked and composed himself. It all happened so quickly that it was nearly imperceptible, but he'd done it nonetheless. V shifted his stance slightly, diverting his eyes in an attempt to break eye contact with Nero. He glanced in the direction of the oncoming train before speaking. 

"... I'm fine. This isn't the first time I've had to board a train recently," He glanced sparingly at Nero, clearly somewhat flustered by Nero's polite offer." But… I do appreciate your offer. Your concern is refreshing. I'll manage."

Nero shrugged, scratching the bridge of his nose before ducking away. He needed to check on the children. "Sure thing. Let me know if you, ya know, change your mind or something."

As the train pulled into the station, Nero took a moment to step away and join Kyrie and the kids. Attempting to keep three young and excited children under control while juggling luggage was going to be quite the experience. Thankfully children's clothing was smaller than its adult counterparts, so they were able to fit everything in one bag. In hindsight, it was rather impressive that Trish and Lady had individually packed more clothing than their entire family put together. Impressive, excessive, and hilarious. After a cursory check and a hurried final count, they prepared to board after the rest of the group. Going first would slow things down considerably.

While Patty gave Dante hell for falling asleep, V watched the train pull into the station casually. This was far from his first train trip, but it had been quite some time since he'd traveled with other people. And never with children. He shot Nico a quick glance, collecting his bag before it became an obstacle in their path. The young mechanic nodded in approval.

"I wonder why Nero didn't take Magnolia up on her offer to babysit the kids," She said as she grabbed her bags," I mean, I love em as much as the next person… but don't people usually take vacations to get away from their kids?"

V stood up straight, no longer leaning against the lamp. He considered her words for a moment, before facing ahead, clearly focused on something in the middle distance. That was a reasonable question, and he couldn't fault her for being curious. While no one minded that the children were along for the ride, especially since Nero had told most of them beforehand, he had to admit that he'd wondered the same thing when his younger brother had made that decision with Kyrie.

"If I were to make an educated guess, it's partially for his own benefit. He may wish to spend time with them," He said as he stepped towards the now still train, clearing a path for everyone," And also, what better way to drive our father absolutely insane? It's as much an act of revenge as it is an act of kindness. In a way, I almost find it poetic."

Nico gave him a funny look before the gears in her brain unstuck and she laughed slightly. "Oh, I get it! It's a parental pissing contest! Gotta remind his old man that he's the better parent!"

"Yes, I believe he's taking the moral middle ground on this trip, isn't he" V said, a hint of humor in his voice. He closed his eyes for a moment, scoffing at his sibling's petty yet understandable level immaturity," Well, that is when the high ground is being morally impregnable and the low road is refusing to come at all."

"Don't act like you wouldn't do the same thing," Nico said as she tried not to laugh. Vergil was approaching with Dante, and she didn't need him honing in on their conversation. She liked to think he liked her. Well, at the very least he seemed to want to stab her less than most of the rest of the team. That had to count for something.

V let out a brief chortle, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. " I have no children. And my methods of causing aggravation and proving my moral superiority are a bit more… subtle. Not to say that I care much either way."

Nico punched him in the side, eliciting a surprised exhale and a curious look. "No kids that you know of!"

He stared at her blankly for a moment, an unreadable look passing across his face. It was completely belied by his calm demeanor. "No. I'm quite certain that I don't have any. That would be impossible. I… Damn it."

She gave him a silly look, repressing the urge to go totally wide eyed and burst into laughter at what he had just inadvertently implied. Nico had caught him red handed, and his involuntary confession answered a lot of burning questions for her. "But what if ya did though? Or what if ya do someday? I mean, you've gotta have some luck getting a date with all that poetry you read, right? And it's not like your ugly or somethin..'"

V stopped for a moment, both to allow Kyrie to board first and to consider her statement. He turned back to her, his head tilted slightly to one side in an involuntary action that indicated that he was somewhat unsure as to how to answer that question. Nico got the impression that he'd probably never been asked that before, and Nero shot them both a curious look as he passed by them.

"... I've… I haven't… I don't think I've taken the necessary time to... consider that question yet. I have no way of answering that, at present." V seemed distant for a moment, almost troubled. 

For a second, Nico felt very uncomfortable. This was obviously a touchy subject, but not in the way she would have expected. Most of the time people got angry or flustered when asked a personal question they didn't intend to answer. V just seemed… forlorn and absent from the conversation. It was as if she had just asked him about someone dying or something, and he was recalling a painful memory. In that moment, Nico was certain that he had thought about it before, but uncertain as to how the subject affected him.

At least for the time being, she was going to drop the subject. This wasn't a good way to start what was supposed to be a fun group outing. V was always a little gloomy, but she'd clearly struck a nerve that she hadn't meant to, and the last thing she wanted to do was cause him to spend the entire train trip being upset and distracted.

"Yea um, sorry about that, I guess. Wasn't tryin' to… you know…" Nico said as she walked along behind the rest of the group, her bag in hand. The train was only going to stay for a minute or so longer. No one wanted to have to drive there to meet them.

V waived her off, blinking slowly in a way that showed that he absolutely did mind, but wasn't going to make a big deal out of it. He had bigger problems and didn't tend to hold petty grudges as a general rule. Although there were exceptions to that rule, he knew that Nico hadn't meant anything by it. If anything, she'd probably been trying to entertain them both.

"I'll go after you," He said, tilting his head nonchalantly in the direction of the train door. He honestly didn't enjoy being the first to board the train. Even though he knew it was entirely irrational and foolish, he felt as though he was being watched when he was the first to do something with his group. It made him feel slightly anxious, even when he was with people he trusted. 

She nodded and hopped on board the train, nearly stumbling with her heavy bag. For a moment, V considered the probability that she had snuck some of her "work" with her on the train. But then again, he was certain that everyone had snuck weapons on board as well, so it was a good thing that they didn't have to go through a metal detector or baggage check before boarding. All those demonic swords and specialized guns would have been rather difficult to explain away. In an ideal world, they wouldn't need them. But in the world they lived in, no one was foolish enough to think that asking Vergil to leave Yamato at home was a good idea or that it would end in anything but a swift stabbing.

"I see that your boarding last."

V turned his head, glancing over his shoulder to face the all too familiar voice that had just spoken to him. It was Vergil. His brain raced to pinpoint the exact moment that the eldest Son of Sparda had broken away from his twin brother and stayed behind to confront him, but it jammed like a cheap lock. Regardless, he was here. And he couldn't pinpoint why that made him so supremely uncomfortable. Perhaps it had something to do with what had happened the last time they had been alone with one another at a train station. His fight or flight instinct screamed at him, imploring him not to repeat the same mistakes that had landed him in the Redgrave incident in the first place. After all, if he hadn't taken that walk and walked face first into Vergil…

No, that hadn't been his fault. 

He needed to stop doing that to himself. 

That was in the past now.

The young summoner nodded, his vocal cords failing him. While he was aware that he needed to speak with him at some point on this trip, this would not be the moment that that happened. And the sudden realization that whatever awkwardness there was between them would transfer to their three hour train ride was almost enough to make him bolt across the parking lot and catch the ferry home. But that would accomplish nothing. And Nico had the keys, so the van wasn't going anywhere anyway.

Vergil let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle, clearly expecting some sort of response akin to the one he received from his oldest son. And yet there was something else in his demeanor that betrayed his silent hope that that wouldn't be the case. Perhaps it was something in his eyes that V caught a glimpse of that told him that his lack of diction… saddened Vergil? Was the eldest Son of Sparda capable of that? V liked to believe so. Perhaps "liked" wasn't that proper word for it.

As V considered this, the train whistle blew. They would be departing in a minute. Vergil glanced over at the train casually, clearly not concerned about the concept of being left behind. He'd teleported to further away things in the past, and they'd been moving considerably faster than a train. He foresaw no challenge, at least for himself. While he assumed that V might share a similar ability, he had now way of knowing how proficient he was. But there would be no need to find out if they boarded the train.

"Come then," Vergil said as he approached the train, passing V in the process. He stopped for a moment, glancing over his shoulder to double check that he had complied with his request and found that he had. He then extended his arm to stop him, handing him one of the two slips of paper in his hand. It was a train ticket. V looked it over for a moment, giving Vergil an appreciative nod in the process. Much to his dismay, functionality had yet to return to the auditory cortex of his brain.

"I don't believe I saw you get yours from that middleman Dante is acquainted with, so I took the liberty of doing so on your behalf." He said casually as he stepped past him, swiping V's bag in the process. It was beyond Vergil to simply ask for it. He already knew what his son's response would be, if any at all.

V reached towards the confiscated luggage bag, his response too delayed to accomplish anything noteworthy. The young white haired summoner opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him yet again and he let his arm fall limply to his side. He sighed softly and cracked a small but appreciative smile before following after him. He'd stolen a glance at their respective seat numbers when Vergil had handed him the ticket earlier. 

It seemed that they would be sitting together…

(-~-)

And just like that, the beach arc has begun! What's that? You thought it was going to be one or two chapters? HA! Try like five or six! There is character development that needs to happen here, people! Thanks for reading, take care, and I'll see you again on Friday! Bye bye! Also, I have a discord server. The links to it and my user id on there are in my A03 bio and listed below! I'd love to chat if you're ever in the neighborhood lol!

Server: https://discord.gg/Uyp75N6

SkvaderArts#2729

[missjosie27]

Year 2 Part 8- The Ongoing War

Hey, guys

I apologize for not updating sooner. Frankly, my mind has been quite occupied and I've focused on other projects. But I also lost the spark. Can't deny that. However, I am back with more content.

This chapter takes a bit of a detour from the cursebreaking but I think it's one of the more poignant I've written. Again I say to you Slytherin leaders, this is not a commentary on the house as a whole. David's POV is biased and the issue at stake is more complicated than on the surface. So bear with me, there.

Anyway, enjoy everyone. As an apology I'm going to post the next one after Memorial Day here in the United States.

Chapter 8. The Ongoing War

In retrospect, Bill was correct in not wanting to go to the Hospital Wing as the next day would prove. Apparently, rumors were all abound that someone had been near the 13th corridor the previous night. Even more concerning was the rage of Filch who accused anyone who looked at him cross eyed of drugging his cat.

David wasn’t so much concerned with that as he was for Bill’s health. He and Rowan spent a good chunk of the night ensuring there were no lingering effects from being frozen in the ice, until he insisted he was fine and went up to bed. But to be on the safe side, he decided to check in on him at lunch time. Rowan required a stint in the Hospital Wing after he was hit, but perhaps Bill’s larger frame meant he wasn’t as aversely affected. Above all, there was a sense that it was his fault another one of his friends was almost seriously injured in a potentially dangerous setting. He made this known when he spotted the elder Weasley munching on a sandwich at the Gryffindor table.

“Hey…uh, Bill,” David said awkwardly as he sat down. “Feeling any better?”

Bill nodded as swallowed a bite of his meal.

“Loads. Thanks to you, I can almost feel my fingers again.”

It took David almost half a second to realize he was joking but it still didn’t make him feel any better.

“Look, Bill. I’m sorry you got hurt and that’s on me. After that narrow escape I don’t blame you if you never want to go back.”

But far from being offended, the fourth year looked positively ecstatic.

“Are you kidding, Dave? I’ve never felt so alive. Of course I want to go back. We have to go back.”

David blinked a few times to ensure he had registered that correctly.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but weren’t you nearly turned into a living ice sculpture last night? How are you so cheerful about this?”

“Oh come on, I’m fine…HU-CHOO!” Bill suddenly sneezed sending an unexpected spray of mist into the path of an unsuspecting Gryffindor second year girl who immediately recoiled in horror.  

“Okay, so I may have a cold and a few shivers. Nothing I can’t handle,” Bill shrugged off. “What’s more important is breaking that curse. Clearly, we weren’t enough to bring down those defenses so we’ll need more people next time we go into the vault…” he paused before eyeing David carefully. “Dave are you okay? You look like something’s bothering you.”

In truth something w as bothering him and it hit very close to home. A bubbling cauldron of emotion surged through the young Gryffindor as the familiarity of the situation rang alarm bells in his head. This was almost exact same way he felt the day Jacob left and disappeared.

Because it was my fault. Just like this was too.

But he didn’t voice these concerns instead pushing them down as he always had, instead choosing to put Bill at ease.

“What? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” he said waving his hand as if to swat away a fly. “Just wanted to be sure you were okay. And that you still wanted to be a cursebreaker after all that.”

“The dream is alive and well,” Bill laughed. “But we’ll have to move cautiously from now on. No doubt that Filch and the professors will be keeping an eye on that corridor a lot more often. Best thing to do is meet with the others and decide on a course of action from there.”

“But what if the ice gets worse? Or someone actually dies from being stuck in it too long?”

“I agree with that sentiment. That being said we can’t break a curse if we all get expelled. I guarantee you others are on the lookout now.”

Bill stuffed his books into his bag as he got up from the table.

“I have charms now, but we’ll meet later on in the common room tonight to discuss it further.”

He gave David a friendly pat on the back before going on his way, leaving David to ponder on his thoughts and whether or not he wanted a giant sandwich. After a few moments he decided he wasn’t hungry and wondered where Rowan and Charlie were. Before he could even take so much as a step a loud voice called his name.

“Grant!”

Angelica Cole was power walking towards him, and she was practically fuming. David hadn’t seen much of her this year, given that he had largely avoided trouble and the loss of house points that plagued him in his Hogwarts debut, but that happy period had clearly come to an end.

“David Grant!” she repeated, stopping only a couple of feet away from his face.

The young Gryffindor feigned looking from side to side.

“Oh, you’re talking to me? I thought you had me confused with my invisible twin who coincidentally also shares my name.”

He knew getting under Angelica’s skin was probably not the best idea, but he couldn’t help it. Doing so was far too easy and entertaining.

“I swear to Merlin Grant one more wisecrack and I’ll put you in detention until you graduate!”

“You picked a great spot to discuss this, by the way. I’m sure there’s a Hufflepuff in the basement who didn’t quite hear you.”

“Not another word,” Angelica silenced him though the volume of her voice lowered. “I want to know if these rumors about you tampering with that cursed vault are true.”

The response was obvious. Any admission of doing so would more than likely cost him actual time that could be devoted to other things. Though not a fan of lying this was a situation where it felt acceptable.

“I don’t know what you’re hearing, Angelica but I’m not the one who’s messing with the vaults. Have I given you any reason this year to suspect otherwise?”

His prefect eyed him carefully, her anger reducing slowly.

“Look, Grant, I’m not trying to give you a hard time. I’m just trying to protect you. Professor McGonagall is getting suspicious as are some of the other teachers. You need to be careful.”

“I am careful,” David tried to shrug casually. “I’m not losing house points, right?”

“This is more than just house points,” she emphasized. “It’s about representing your house and what it means to you. We talked about this last year- if you continue to jeopardize that, it will be just like your brother all over again.”

That was a remark that got underneath his skin. Too many times he had been reminded of Jacob lately, both the good and bad. Prefect or no prefect he was not going to let Angelica talk about things she knew nothing about.

“Whatever my brother did or didn’t do isn’t for you to judge,” he said failing to keep his good humor. “And it’s not for you to judge me either.”

Angelica narrowed her eyes.

“It’s that kind of attitude that makes me wonder if you should have been placed in our house at all.”

David could feel blood rushing to his head.

“If you’re done questioning my house loyalty, I’ll be on my merry way. I have better things to do.”

He stormed past Angelica, highly irritated and more than a bit reckless in thought.

To hell with what everyone thought, he was going to do things his way.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, the round table of Gryffindors met in the common room to discuss the days events and their next move. Of most significant news was that the prefects and the teachers seemed to be on to the fact that someone was trying to enter the vaults. As a result, the watch on the 13th corridor was doubled. Not only was Mrs. Norris constantly prowling, that now included Filch or some other authority figure. Anyone unfortunate to be caught near there during the late hours was given detention (or at least that was the case if the one who caught you was Snape).

On top of that David still had not forgotten about the message from ‘R’ which remained as mysterious as ever. Ben never did recall what had occurred during beginning of the year or how the note came to be in his pocket, leaving the identity and motivations of the group unknown at the present. It was not a comforting thought but without additional information there was no way to investigate that avenue any further. The only thing to do was to press forward with breaking the curse and prevent an icy death for any unsuspecting Hogwarts student.

Of course, that was easier said than done, given that the professors and the school at large was on high alert.

“I don’t like it,” David spoke frankly to his fellow house mates by the fireside. “If Angelica is suspicious, the teachers definitely are. She even said McGonagall was on to us.”

Bill took this into consideration.

“She’s the last person you want to have on her bad side,” he surmised. “And she won’t play favorites or look the other way like Snape does with the Slytherins.”

“I’ll bet my parents farm Merula can pretty much do whatever she wants,” Rowan said bitterly. “If she found the vaults before we did, that greasy git would try and award her a special services award to the school.”

“I actually think she annoys him more than anything,” David chuckled. “But you’re right, Rowan. Snape isn’t going to go out of his way to prevent the little snakes from doing as they please as long as they don’t get caught. We don’t have that luxury.”

“No, indeed.”

The crackling of the fire dominated the sound barrier for a moment as the group ran silent. They also had to ensure no unwanted ears were listening in, which was another reason they were having this get together at eleven when most had already gone to bed.

“If any of the Slytherins got their hands on what’s inside the vault there’s no way they’d use it to help the school,” Ben spoke quietly, staring into the flames. “Especially Merula.”

“What do you think, David?” Rowan asked. “She taunts us almost every day about the vaults. Do you think she’s closer than we are?”

“No,” came the simple reply. “If she was closer she’d have actually been inside it by now. No mention of the room, the ice, or the giant snowflake that freezes people in their tracks. Best for thing for us to do is to keep trying and take another crack at it.”

“We may have to put off that next attempt for a while. As you know, every teacher in Hogwarts is on the lookout now,” Bill pointed out.

“So what do we do in the meantime?”

“Keep studying and practicing,” the elder Weasley advised. “And wait for things to die down. The next opportunity will present itself soon.”

“And Penny?” Ben asked. She was becoming an increasing part of their efforts to break the vault curse but they didn’t any of the other Hufflepuffs to know what they were up to. Not even Tonks or Chiara.

“Keep her in the loop, of course. She’s in this just like we are. She also made me promise I wouldn’t go into the vault again without her help,” David said, feeling a small blush come to his face.

“She’s a true Hufflepuff,” Rowan admired.

“Then it’s settled then,” Bill nodded. “We find out as much as we can about the vault and prepare to go back inside when we can. Keep a tight lip, we don’t want Merula to gain any more information.”

The group concurred and decided to call it a night. Of course, that said opportunity would not come for awhile as the doubled watch on the 13th corridor remained intact throughout the end of January, February and into March. As it had been in the previous year, the vault faded into the foreground though not as much as before given the potential deadly consequences of a student being caught and frozen to death in cursed ice.

A more immediate problem was the House of Slytherin. Thankfully, Merula’s behavior remained unchanged from her usual nastiness and boasting- there was nothing to indicate otherwise. But for once the most troublesome Slytherin was not Merula, it was the older and far more dangerous members that were causing strife.

The origin was twofold: many of the older students remembered the British Civil War quite clearly and for the children of Death Eaters, almost all of whom belonged to Slytherin, they ended up on the losing side, their parents either dead, in jail, or feigning innocence via the Imperius curse. Some rejected this ideology, such as the sixth year prefect Felix Rosier, who had no use or time for the teachings of Voldemort. Others secretly embraced it and voluntarily isolated themselves from the other three houses as a means of revenge, bullying those they felt were easy targets.

Magnifying this issue was Quidditch, a sport that typically brought out the worst in hormonal teenagers to begin with. The Gryffindors had trounced Hufflepuff by a full three hundred points and were in prime position to win the house cup for the first time since James Potter was on the team. Unfortunately for the Slytherin team, because Gryffindor had won by such a large margin it was now mathematically impossible for them to win, a fact that many of them did not take well.

As the year headed into April and the final showdown between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw loomed, these two issues compounded into one as David would soon find out.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It just another day at Hogwarts as the first inklings of spring began to poke through the Scottish Highlands. The snow was melting at a rapid rate which caused the ground to turn into a thick froth of dirt and mud and though the temperature was rising, there were still damp and miserable days as it still sometimes occurs during the early months.

David, Ben, and Rowan were playing gobstones in the common room one Saturday afternoon when a first year girl stepped into the common room, soaking wet, face smeared with mud, tears streaming down her face. Immediately the whole common room jumped and rushed over, Angelica pushing her way forward.

“Out of the way, prefect coming through!”

She reached the first year and quickly adopted a soft, compassionate tone, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

The girl could barely utter a proper sentence through her sobs.

“W-where’s m-m-my brother?”

“What’s your name?”

“D-D-Diana.”

That caused one of the older Gryffindors to pop up their head and run over with deep concern in his eyes. David soon recognized him as Adolphus Blishwick, one of the Gryffindor beaters- tall, well built, and with dirty blonde hair.

“That’s my sister!” he said, giving her an affectionate hug, despite her soiled appearance. “Diana, what on earth happened?”

The girl wiped her eyes and managed to recall the specific incident more coherently.

“Some older boys attacked me, Addie. They kept hitting me with tripping jinxes so I couldn’t run away. One of them even threatened to use the Cruciatus curse on me. They called me ‘blood traitor’ and a whole bunch of other names, saying that you were to blame for them losing in Quidditch. I don’t even know how I got away.”

Adolphus’s jaw clenched so tightly, it was a wonder to David that his teeth didn’t crack. He could see the fury in the beater’s eyes which wasn’t altogether surprising given the attack on his sister. Fitting the stereotype of a beater, Adolphus also had a notorious temper.

“Slytherins…” Angelica muttered underneath her breath.

“Evil bastards, the lot of them,” Adolphus trembled with rage.

Liam Browne, his best friend and the Keeper tried to calm him down.

“Addie, don’t. It was probably those loner kids of the Death Eaters.”

“Fuck them, I don’t care!” he shouted, pulling Diana closer to him. “This was a direct attack on me and my family! I’m going to rip them apart one by one by the time I’m through!!”

Those familiar with the wizarding world knew that the Blishwicks were a wizarding family with a tradition in law enforcement. Voldemort had targeted them during the war when the family patriarch, Josephus, refused to join his cause and was later killed in the line of duty. To say it was a sensitive subject for young Adolphus, who planned to follow in his father’s footsteps, would be an understatement.

He turned back towards his sister.

“Who was it that did this to you? Do you know their names?”

Diana nodded, still traumatized by the incident.

“Ammon Lucian and his friends, I can’t remember their names. What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about, sis. Just go upstairs and get yourself cleaned up. I’ll take care of it.”

She did not argue and proceeded to run up to the dormitories, leaving the older students to debate their next move.

“Lucian is a dead man!” Adolphus declared with such fury, Liam and others had to hold him back.

“Addie, calm down for a half second. We need to figure out a plan,” Henry McLaggen, the other beater said to him.

“Forget it, Henry. I know where those gits hang out on the weekends. You’re not going to stop me from defending my family’s honor.”

“So you’re just choosing to ignore the fact that have a match with Ravenclaw? If you’re caught dueling them and get detention even Orion will break his inner peace to chew you out.”

“I don’t give a f-”

“Enough!” Angelica cut across. “Or have you forgotten I’m a prefect here? Adolphus, relax for a half second.”

The beater was finally released as he panted heavily from the struggle to break free from their grip.

“I don’t care if I get in trouble for this, Angelica. Family is more important than a goddamn Quidditch match. I can’t take this lying down.”

“No, we can’t,” she agreed. “Which is why we’re going to help you.”

That brought some questioning looks from everyone in the room, David and company included.

“Angelica, since when do you advocate breaking the rules?” Liam asked puzzledly.

“I don’t. But I also know that there are some things that go far beyond rules. House pride being chief among them.”

David couldn’t help but notice she looked directly towards him when she said that statement and it got his blood boiling all over again.

“We’re Gryffindors and Gryffindors protect their own,” Angelica continued. “I think Slytherin needs a reminder of what happens when they cross the lion.”

Cheers rang throughout the common room as David stepped to the front, Rowan and Ben in tow.

“Those shitheads are easy enough to find,” Adolphus reiterated. “What are we waiting for?”

“It would be the most Gryffindor thing in the world to just charge in with reckless abandon,” Angelica pointed out. “So we’re going to need at least five people and someone to spy on their movements beforehand.”

“I’ll do it,” David immediately volunteered.

“Dave what are you doing?” Ben whispered.

“Taking the lead,” he replied simply. “If you need a point man, I’m the one.”

The other members of the Quidditch team looked down on him skeptically, surprised by the tenacity of a second year.

“You sure you’re up for it, kid?” Adolphus asked. “We don’t need any dead weight while we’re fighting.”

But Angelica eyed him carefully.

“Let him come,” she spoke at last. “If he wants to prove himself, give him the opportunity to do so.”

“I’m no dead weight,” he told Adolphus bluntly. “I can duel better than anyone my age. And I can dodge a lot better since I’m not as big.”

Henry shrugged at that.

“I say we let him come along, Addie. No harm in having an extra pair of eyes.”

The enormous beater gave in to the vote of confidence and sighed.

“Alright, kid you’re in.”

“I’d like to come as well,” Ben volunteered though his face definitely betrayed his fear. David immediately came to his friend’s aid.

“I can vouch for him. He’s really good with hexes and charms. Dead useful in a pinch.”

“Fine, but no more,” Adolphus told them. “It’ll be myself, Angelica, Liam, Henry, and these two midgets.”

“We have names you know,” David remarked.

“Whatever, let’s get going. We can discuss the plan on the way.”

As they exited, Rowan wished them luck but advised them to keep their heads down.

“Those particular Slytherins aren’t the kind you want to tangle with. Be careful.”

“Don’t worry mate, we’re all going to have a big laugh after this is over,” he reassured him. He was interrupted by Angelica once more as they began to head out of the common room.

“I hope you’re taking this seriously, Grant. This isn’t the time for your usual jokes.”

David looked up at her, not even the hint of a smile on his young features. He would do whatever it took to prove this was not a fluke.

“I’m the point man, aren’t I? That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Without another word, he stepped past her and followed the rest of his house mates out of the door. He wasn’t going to give Angelica an excuse to pick on him.

Not this time.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Adolphus hadn’t been bluffing when he stated he knew where their quarry would be found. Ammon Lucian, Ayla Yaxley, and Nicholas Selwyn hung out quite frequently in the courtyard, especially now that the weather was becoming warmer. Most days, they stuck to themselves, smoking cigarettes, cracking dumb jokes, scaring younger students who wandered near them by unhappy chance. However, Lucian was particularly unpleasant, a disposition made worse by the fact that his own father had been killed by Aurors during the war. Lanky, sneering, and possessing cold, gray eyes, it was enough to strike fear into any unsuspecting first year, let alone one who’s family had been on the opposite side. The Gryffindor beater surmised as much as they opened the door to the outside air.

“That piece of shit thinks himself a big man for picking on my sister. We’ll see how he takes on someone his own size,” he said menacingly, cracking his knuckles.

“How did he know what your sister even looked like?” Ben asked him, though he winced slightly when Adolphus’s frown turned towards him.

“Trust me he knew long before today. Everyone knows my family and their history during the war. Especially Lucian.”

“Wasn’t he just a kid when all of this happened?” David asked. He remembered vividly the dark days of that time, but of course, being only nine by the time of Voldemort’s downfall did not have the same frame of reference for everything that went on.

“Doesn’t matter,” Adolphus told him. “You can bet every galleon that he was well aware of who his father was and what side he was on. What side my family was on.”

“The children of Death Eaters get indoctrinated from a pretty early age,” Henry McLaggen explained. “My uncle kept profiles on every one of those aristocrat types. They’re all the same way, namely raising their kids to believe that You Know Who had the right idea so by the time they’re old enough, they willingly join the ranks. Plenty of them are still around and bitter about the fact that their side lost the war. None will ever openly support the Death Eaters, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where their loyalties still lie.”

“And they express it in numerous ways. Namely, attacking those who they feel are inferior to them- muggle borns, so called ‘blood traitors’, people connected with the Ministry, etc.,” Adolphus finished.

David studied the grave features of his older house mates, no exaggeration in their heavy expressions. These were people who experienced the horrors of Voldemort far more severely than kids his age and the reaction went beyond a familial dispute. This was an extension of the ideological conflict still being played out in Britain.

The war goes on, even in peace time , David thought to himself.

They soon entered the courtyard, where only a handful of people were hanging about. It was easy to spot three taller figures clad in green sitting by the edge of the fountain.

“That’s them,” Adolphus growled.

“What’s the plan?” Liam asked Angelica.

“We take positions behind the columns,” she answered quickly. “Grant and Copper will go behind the fountain and give the signal. When you feel they’ve dropped their guard enough, give the signal that it’s time to fire.”

“Which is?”

“You probably haven’t learned the method to produce red sparks yet so perhaps-”

“I’ve learned how to produce embers. Close enough,” David shrugged.

“And you, Copper? Can you handle yourself in a fight?” Angelica said, eyeing the blond boy with a hint of skepticism.

“He volunteered, didn’t he?” David defended. “That should suffice.”

“Just make sure you don’t get yourself seriously hurt,” the prefect warned, and this time there was real concern in her voice. “These are the nastiest Slytherins in our year. If they did that to Addie’s sister they won’t hesitate to do the same to you.”

“We have it covered. Come on, Ben.”

As he and his friend took up positions, David could feel the anxiety practically radiating off the muggle born wizard.

“Ben, it’s okay to be nervous. These blokes are the spawn of Death Eaters. No shame in that.”

“You said I was dead useful in a pinch. When have I ever been useful in a pinch? Since when am I an expert in hexes?”

Careful to duck low in order not to be spotted, the two boys crouched behind the white marble wands ready.

“Last year when we were trapped in that room full of ice. You helped us all escape and get free.”

“Gryffindors are supposed to be brave,” Ben swallowed. “I’ve never felt less brave. These people consider me inferior.”

David placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke in a quiet, reassuring tone.

“Ben, you got more bravery than these three wankers put together. They’re the end result of inbreeding and lack of sunlight. You’re a hundred times better than they’ll ever be.”

That remark clearly ignited something within the nervous Gryffindor because his normally soft, brown eyes became hardened, a firm resolve spreading across his face.

David motioned for them to peer over the wall ever so slightly to get a better read on their targets. They could see a blonde haired female taking multiple drags on a cigarette, legs crossed, stockings more tattered than Merula’s. Another was leaning against one of the statues, raven haired, fair skinned, garbed in a gray sweater and a green scarf. The last, was a tall, reedy boy, tousled auburn hair, with a borderline gaunt complexion. He was cockily twirling a wand in between his fingers and his features had a pronounced permanent sneer. This was the one he assumed to be Ammon Lucian, son of the killed Death Eater.

“I’m bored,” Ayla Yaxley droned, taking another drag from her cigarette.

“What’s the matter?” Selwyn taunted. “Torturing blood traitors not enough for you?”

“Hardly,” she sassed back. “There’s nothing to do at this place. The weather sucks and we live in the coldest part of the castle.”

“We get it on three times a day, that should keep ya warm.”

“Small comfort.”

“You two are insufferable,” Lucian spoke now, his voice dripping with contempt.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist, eh Ammon?”

“Nothing you could ever imagine,” the tall Slytherin growled, wand suddenly in a firm grip. “You’re father’s still alive. You don’t have to look at the people responsible for killing him.”

He shuffled a few spaces and kicked a rock over the fountain, which barely based hitting Ben on the noggin.

“We wouldn’t be prowling around the courtyard like a bunch of wankers if the Dark Lord was in charge. That’s real power….that’s what we’re missing.”

“In the meantime, I suppose you’ll have to content yourself with the defenseless siblings of blood traitors,” Yaxley spoke in a sing song voice. “Oh well.”

“Keep antagonizing me and I’ll give you one worse than that Gryffindor brat. If it means Blishwick thinks twice before playing against Ravenclaw we’ve done our jobs.”

David had heard enough. He could see the Henry, Liam, Adolphus, and Angelica all in position in various corners of the yard. They were effectively surrounded. All he had to do was give the signal.

Suddenly, a mischievous grin crossed his face with Ben looking at him curiously.

“Aim for the buttocks.”

That brought an excited smile and they pointed their wands at the nearest two Slytherins.

“Ready, aim, fire!” David whispered.

Ember sparks issued forth and found their mark squarely on the asses of Selwyn and Wilkes, causing them to jump ten feet in the air with Yaxley laughed.

“ACK! What the-”

“NOW!” David shouted.

A series of spells began to rain down on the trio of Slytherins, who looked around bewilderedly for their source. The one called Selwyn, unfortunately spotted the two second years first.

“YOU!” he snarled and brandished his wand, starting towards them. He only took two steps, however, before Angelica hit him with a jinx.

“ Melofors! ”

A pumpkin encased the head of her target, who began to walk around as though he were a zombie, his entire equilibrium thrown off balance. Angelica came rushing in, stepping in front of the two as though she were a mother wolf protecting her cubs.

“Stay behind me, you two!”

“Look out!”

In her efforts to defend the younger students, Yaxley had snuck up to the side and attempted to strike Angelica with an orange colored curse. Thankfully, it missed and that was all the time David and Ben needed.

“ Furnunculus! ”

“ Locomotor Wibbly! ”

Both spells hit the Slytherin girl at the same causing boils to break out on her face and then tumbled over into the fountain soaking her to the bone.

The only other opponent to worry about was Lucian, but against three able bodied Gryffindor teens, he was no match.

“ Expulso! ”

Adolphus was prepared, bending onto one knee and shouting out, “ Protegus Maximus! ”

It was one of the strongest shields against dark magic one could conjure and true to its reputation, the shield absorbed the curse that was sure to have seriously injured the Gryffindor boys.

“ Flagr- ”

But Henry McLaggen was already a step ahead of him.

“ Stupefy! ”

The jet of red light caught Lucian squarely in the chest, knocking him off his feet and backwards onto the cold, hard stone.

“I don’t think so,” the burly beater snarled.

The job was done, but not Adolphus was not. Another stunner knocked out Selwyn, who was still struggling with the pumpkin on his head, but somehow Wilkes was still conscious, though he was groaning from the sheer force of the spell.

Picking him up by the scruff of his collar, Adolphus wore an expression of terrible fury and pain as he gazed into the eyes of the one who had bullied his sister. David could only watch the scene unfold in the background.

“Today was the biggest mistake you’ve ever made, Lucian,” the Gryffindor beater spoke quietly.

“Haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” came the snarky response.

That had been the wrong thing to say, as Adolphus broke the Slytherin’s nose with one punch.

“Touch my sister again and you’ll receive worse than that.”

Lucian remained defiant, cold hatred in his eyes as he responded through the blood that now stained his teeth.

“Naïve Adolphus. You really think this is the end of it? That I get beaten up a couple times and I’ll go away? This is just the beginning.”

“That’s enough out of you,” Angelica stepped in, taking charge now.

“Ah, Angelica,” Lucian spoke with a sarcastic smile. “I thought it was your solemn duty to prevent this sort of thing from occurring.”

“Not when you attack students underneath my charge,” she shot back. “I chose not to report you. Instead, we’re letting you off with a warning. The next time I hear you threatening to use unforgivable on an innocent, I’ll go to Professor Dumbledore.”

The Slytherin gave her a hard stare before spitting at her feet.

“Sooner or later all of you blood traitors and mudbloods will get what you deserve.”

Adolphus raised his fist in the air to strike him again, but Liam Brown caught it just in time.

“Leave it, Addie. Don’t waste more of your time with this piece of filth. Leave your good hand for the Quidditch not his face.”

To David’s vantage point, Adolphus did not want to let the Slytherin off without a few more punches to the nose, however, a look from Angelica convinced him otherwise. He threw Wilkes roughly to the ground, leaving him to assist his dazed and injured housemates.

“Let’s go,” he muttered, wiping off his knuckles.

Without another word, the group of Gryffindors left the courtyard and made way back towards their common room, walking a little bit quicker just in case a professor happened to upon the carnage they left behind. Surprisingly, Adolphus and the other teens remained silent as they journeyed home, grim looks on their faces.

“I don’t need to tell you to keep what happened to yourselves,” Angelica told David and Ben as they approached the Fat Lady. “They’re too proud to snitch but if McGonagall found out I was a part of it…”

“Say no more, Angelica,” David reassured her. “We have your back, yeah?”

In that moment something of an understanding formulated between the sixth and second year Gryffindors. The irritation that David felt towards her previously melted away into affection and respect. Angelica could have taken the high road but instead she went outside of her authority to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. He hadn’t forgotten the way she jumped in front of them when Yaxley attacked.

As the Quidditch teens gave the password and entered the common room, Angelica stopped him just outside of the portrait.

“I was wrong about you, Grant,” she said to him. “I questioned whether you should be in this house and I’m sorry for ever doubting your loyalty.”

She held out a hand, which David accepted as a sign of reconciliation.

“Thank you, Angelica. I don’t say this often enough, but you’re a damn good prefect.”

The comment clearly touched her as she smiled in return.

“Thank you, as well.” Her face turned solemn as she added. “Just don’t forget what you saw today. Or perhaps more importantly, what you heard. Wilkes was right about one thing; this isn’t going to stop because we kicked his ass. We won the battle, but the war hasn’t stopped. It never will as long as people like him are around.”

As she turned and gave the password (‘Yorgischmorgi’) David looked down at his wand, which he only just noticed was still gripping tightly inside of his left hand. This lesson went beyond the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry. The fact of the matter was, people like Wilkes not only existed they were visible, vocal, and everywhere you looked in Great Britain.

“The war hasn’t stopped,” he repeated.

He wondered just how many more battles would have to be fought for it to end.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

David stayed true to his word by not discussing what occurred the previous day…mostly. He felt he could trust his inner circle with the details, namely Bill, Rowan, and Penny. Besides, rumors never stayed quiet at Hogwarts for long as whisperings of a duel between the Slytherins and Gryffindors abounded, though Wilkes and his ilk denied it. Angelica had been right, it was better to avoid public humiliation than try and inform an authority figure, at least in their case.

“The whole thing sounds amazing,” Rowan commented after David had finished retelling the story. “And intense.”

“It was both,” Ben said quietly.

The group was currently eating dinner the following Monday of the battle. There was an air of satisfaction, even smugness among the Gryffindor table given their Quidditch prospects and their victory over their rival.

“And Mr. Copper here was brilliant,” David announced proudly. “You should have seen that jelly legs jinx. It was perfect.”

“The Furnunculus curse was also nice touch,” Bill laughed as he gave David a fist bump.

“Wasn’t my most creative moment. Extra acne on a teenager is just redundant,” he joked.

Penny wasn’t the only one who hadn’t said anything, in fact was looking down at her plate, a somber expression on her pretty features.

“Alright there, Penny?” David asked her. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

“I don’t like violence,” she responded without looking up. “Helga Hufflepuff taught that revenge was wrong in any circumstance, but after hearing what that Slytherin sixth year did…”

She trailed off unwilling or unable to say more.

David looked at Bill, who quickly reassured her.

“You’re a good person, Penny and I wish I had a strong a moral compass as you. But what happened last Saturday is….complicated.”

“You don’t understand,” the blonde girl said looking up now, her bright blue eyes swimming with conflict. “Even if violence is against everything I stand for, part of me feels he deserved everything he got coming to him. He thinks people like me are less than human…unworthy of being a witch.”

Bill reached over and gave Penny’s hand a squeeze.

“It’s a completely justified feeling. No reasonable person should expect you to accept that pure blood rubbish. The only way to deal with someone like Wilkes is to fight fire with fire.”

Suddenly, a previous non-issue became very apparent among the group. David himself was pureblood, though he didn’t know if that was actually verified or not. He couldn’t trace his lineage as far or as well as the Weasleys or some of the other families, though both of his mother and father had wizarding parents. Rowan had wizarding ancestry going back to ancient India. But speaking on the topic in question, those such as Penny and Ben were to be considered unworthy by some in their society. The thought was infuriating.

“ Pure blood ,” he mocked. “How many pure blooded families are even left? Since when should it matter anyway?”

“It matters to those such as Wilkes,” Bill spoke grimly. “And to a lot of other people too. Don’t forget, many people who support that nonsense were never thrown in jail. My dad tells me all the time.”

“My mom used to tell me stories about how Death Eaters would deliberately target those who weren’t pure blood,” Penny added. “I’m half blood and my mom is a muggle born. She lived in constant fear or being attacked or killed.”

“Mum and dad won’t speak of that time to me,” Rowan said in a hushed tone.

Bill looked down as he twirled his fork into his noodles.

“My parents do, especially dad. It was constant fear- no one knew who to trust or where to turn. Everyone was a potential enemy. Fighting You Know Who was like waving a sword in the dark hoping to hit something you can barely see. At one point the Ministry almost collapsed. So many lives were ruined you can’t even count them.”

“Just like Blishwick,” David murmured. He looked over towards Ben, who looked positively petrified.

“Ben don’t worry. You Know Who is gone now, and you’ve got us. We’re not going to let anything happen to you, I promise.”

That brought a weak but appreciative smile from blond boy.

“Thank you.”

“What about your family, Dave?” Rowan inquired. “Did they tell you anything?”

“My mum is the ‘mother bear’ type. She would never tell us anything awful if she didn’t have to. Dad is a diplomat to America, and I remember how stressed he used to be trying to contain the situation to MACUSA. But they never believed or supported that pure blood supremacy nonsense.”

“And what about your brother?”

It was a general question, one that David wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Jacob used to tell me stuff sometimes. He was always better at getting around mum’s rules than I was.”

Penny suddenly looked a bit fearful.

“Dave, you don’t think what Merula said last year was true was it?”

“Merula says a lot of things, Penny. What do you mean?”

She looked hesitant to ask, as though her question might upset him.

“I mean do you think he really joined the Death Eaters?”

David had vehemently denied that accusation previously but that of course was to defend his brother from someone he hated. The truth was, he didn’t know what Jacob had done after being expelled from Hogwarts and who he had associated with. But the idea of him joining the most ruthless, evil organization in Britain was not something he wanted to think about.

His answer was noncommittal.

“It’s one of many things I have to ask when I find him.”

No one said anything after that. Talk of the war and Death Eaters had dampened the mood considerably.

“Just another reason to break the curse on this vault,” he said trying to steer the conversation back to a different subject. “We have less than two months to accomplish that now.”

“There hasn’t been an ice attack in weeks though,” Ben countered. “Maybe the danger has passed. Maybe we won’t need to go back inside the vault at all.”

David knew that was Ben’s anxiety speaking and not a mark against finding his brother. But there was no turning back from their mission now. This was a race against time. Against the children of Death Eaters.

A race against avoiding the questions he would rather not know the answer to.