#and it was my first time writing leon! it made me really appreciate some smaller details of his character i never noticed before <3

[good-beanswrites]

Summary: With a night alone to talk, Leon is determined to uncover the "real" Lukas.

Woo happy @nagamas to @mrmissmrsrandom !! This was super fun to write, I hope you enjoy :D

[philhoffman]

This week’s Monday Philm (delayed to Tuesday) is God’s Pocket (2014), dir. John Slattery. Watching a movie with a main character named Mickey that takes place partly in Florida the day I get back from a trip to Disney in Orlando... fate.

It’s been a while since I’ve revisited God’s Pocket but I decided to watch with John Slattery’s commentary tonight. It wasn’t that enlightening, mostly just technical talk about locations and casting smaller parts and deciding which takes to use, but I get that recording it was probably kind of awkward and sad in the aftermath’s of PSH’s death. Still, he spoke very highly of working with Phil as an actor and a fellow producer:

Another of Phil’s gifts was [working] technically. He could do everything he could do emotionally while knowing exactly where the camera was all the time. And then after the fact, he would know which take was the most effective take... He remembered every single take, which is surprising given how deeply into it he was while shooting it. He remembered everything.

Slattery also mentioned that God’s Pocket, which premiered at Sundance on January 17, 2014, was one of the first of Phil’s films that he’d watched with an audience in almost a decade—which Phil talked about at the festival as well.

I like this movie but I understand why some people don’t but I also think many of the critics are a bit too harsh. Slattery’s adapted screenplay is rough and feels all over the place at times, even after hearing him explain his writing and directing decisions. But for a quiet little independent film, I think it delivers. One of the best parts of rewatching PSH’s filmography is the opportunity to see who else stands out on repeat viewings—I was pretty laser-focused on Phil the first time (and sometimes a few times after that), but now I can appreciate a lot of the other performances in his films. John Turturro and Christina Hendricks are both so good here—especially what she communicates with so few lines.

You can feel the weight and worry in Phil’s performance as Mickey Scarpato. He’s never felt at home in this community and Leon’s death forces him to look around and confront it, how little control or happiness he has in his life, and decide whether or not to walk away. As a dark comedy, it almost reminds me of The Savages in that the humor is more based on the funny, strange things people really say and do rather than contrived laugh-out-loud jokes (aside from dragging a body around in a meat truck, I guess). Mickey does what must be done, but at times he can’t hide his exasperation—he just cannot believe this is his life. 

There’s one scene toward the end of the film, a simple shot of Phil’s face, that made me smile so much just because of how familiar it was—the cut of his brow, that sharp look in his eye, how his lip curled around his toothbrush. I love that face and the mind behind it and how comfortingly familiar he is to me now. Next week’s movie, A Most Wanted Man, will complete my second watch of Phil’s entire filmography, this time in chronological order. Not sure what I’ll do next but I am just. so glad and grateful to have Phil in my life in all the ways I do—as an artistic inspiration and mentor and comforting presence and more. And he is so so so cute <3

[slo-liveblog]

Witch’s Heart: Bonus Stage Final Thoughts

Hello hello! Honestly I can’t believe I finished Bonus Stage after all this time... took me quite a few months, oof. Many thanks to the handful of you that stuck around during all that, and to the few new people who popped in too! Hope you’ve all been taking care of yourselves, and don’t mind the long post.

CHARACTERS

Claire: After finishing the first game, I didn’t know it was possible to love Claire even more. I was absolutely wrong. The way she took charge at the end was incredibly powerful and I’m so fucking proud of her, even if it’s sad as hell. I really really like how the game both criticizes and respects her unconditional empathy, I think there’s definitely room for both conversations and they’re both incredibly fascinating. I do think she suffers from some of the most writing pitfalls out of everyone, though. Like I said while playing, there’s really no reason given why she wouldn’t confide in Leon, or at least acknowledge that he’s likely the person there she can trust most. In addition, I found it really bizarre that Claire just... never tried to talk to Reynaldo or Sirius after learning about their pasts. Like, at all. I understand why the emphasis on Ashe was important, but it was jarring and kind of unsatisfying to see Claire act so uncharacteristically by not even really acknowledging them after their stories were over. It’s more of a story problem than a character problem though, I think, and I understand why it had to be that way especially considering the conclusions will touch on a lot of the missing pieces- I just wish there could’ve been more of a justification for it. The way her personality was explored through her interactions with everyone, and how other characters were depicted based on their reactions to her ideals, was incredible and I would die for her.

Ashe: Oh Ashe. Fuck Ashe. I do appreciate the depth given to his character, he’s definitely far more complex than I expected and kudos on that. I don’t really empathize with him as much as I do the other four mains, but I do think his writing is incredible and his relationships with Leon and Claire continue to be some of the most interesting to see play out, if not THE most interesting. Star shaped carrots man. Fucked up. Super excited to see how his dynamics with everyone continue, and he’s probably the character I’m the most interested to see make decisions going into these conclusions. His arc feels the most... unfinished, he’s never really reached any sort of closure at any point of the story so far and especially not bonus stage so it’ll be cool to see where he ends up.

Reynaldo: MY BOY. I’M SO FUCKING PROUD OF HIM... going into bonus stage my expectations for him were pretty much rock bottom from the moment I realized he didn’t have a single line in the opening scene outside of saying his name. Like, I kinda made my peace with the possibility that the writer just wasn’t that interested in developing him, and would rather spend time on the rest of the mains. But holy SHIT did he pull through in the second half of the game. The subtle but noticeable build to him deciding to side with Claire was so, so well done. I still wish there was a little more solidity to his characterization- I do have to reach way further to understand him than I do any of the other mains- but I think what we DID get for him was wonderful and god, I appreciate him so much. Definitely the character that improved the most for me from the first game to bonus stage. I can’t wait for his conclusion, here’s to hoping we do in fact get it this year. The way his similarities with Claire were set up makes me SO excited to see how their relationship develops when it’s actually the focus, and how he’ll be fleshed out more in general so we can finally have a clearer picture. Because to be honest, as much as I like the development he was given in bonus stage... there’s still a LOT of gaps to fill in with him.

Sirius: continues to be the perfect human being 1000000/10

Leon: Sweet baby boy whose expressions always make me cry. Leon is still a character I’m sort of on the fence on. Like, he’s very well written and easy to sympathize with. But I realized I’m always far more interested in how OTHER characters react to HIM than the other way around, though. He’s not really a character I personally would find interesting in general, he’s a little simple for my tastes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not 100% invested in seeing him end up happy... eventually. Something tells me it might be a while.

Charlotte: I feel like Charlotte definitely got the short end of the stick in bonus stage, moreso than any other character. Her only memorable scenes that I can think of off the top of my head were when she told Leon he could kill everyone but Claire, when she thought about how Ashe probably can’t be saved, and when she reacted to Claire after the completion of Ashe’s backstory. None of those scenes even come close to hitting the same level of intrigue or emotion as the sparse Charlotte scenes had in the first game, even if that last one does have some interesting bits in it. I said at the end of the first game that we’d only really scratched the surface and I was interested to see more from her and, well, my opinion hasn’t changed. I don’t think there was much I would’ve wanted out of her here anyway unlike the boys, so I’m not especially disappointed. Just hoping we get more excellent Charlotte moments somewhere down the line.

Zizel: I would’ve liked Zizel’s deal to be... a bit more built upon, to be honest? I could just have missed things along the way, but her triumphant moment is a little harder to get in to when we know almost nothing about her or the way she thinks beyond stuff reveled about her in the same scene. I could definitely see that her siding with Claire was being foreshadowed, but I think there needed to be juuust a bit more characterization given to her for that particular development to have the impact it seemed to be going for. Still, it was a good moment, and I think it definitely made up for a lot of the sore lack of Zizel in both games. Can’t wait to see what she does from here.

Lime: Goddddd. Okay look, I still love Lime probably more than I reasonably should. She’s wonderful and I love her design and her personality and her backstory and her motivations but... yea she’s a very very bad person. Bonus stage did really make it clear that she’s not just lashing out occasionally, and this isn’t anywhere near harmless teasing. She’s full on the primary villain of the game, in some ways, and has been doing pretty horrific stuff knowing (and intending for) exactly what she’s causing. Which we sort of knew in the first game anyway, but now it’s very explicit. And like, damn dude... I do wanna see what’s gonna happen with her. It’s tough, wanting to see a character get their comeuppance and stop hurting others while simultaneously just wanting good things for them. this really is how y’all ashe stans feel huh

Side Characters: I gotta say, I really loved a lot of the smaller characters introduced in bonus stage and the way their presence added to the development of the mains. Dorothy and Nicholas, the old dude and the thief woman (I didn’t actually realize until just now but nobody in Wilbert’s backstory had a name, huh. It may not have been intentional but considering that he might literally just not remember that far back I actually really like that decision.), and Ashe’s family and friends were really smartly integrated into the story’s themes and I appreciated that a lot. also lucy and coco rights

Overall This one gets a fucking 10/10 from me chief, some small issues certainly but as close to perfect as they get, in terms of the kinds of stories I like.

STORY

I debated breaking this up into chunks, like I did in the first game with the scenarios, but I feel like the writing quality is more or less consistent throughout the game so it would be a little redundant. I definitely need more time to think on bonus stage before I have a really solid opinion, but at the moment I kind of think the story was even better than the first game? My only major issue was the aforementioned use of Claire’s character, where she’d only really react to the boy’s backstories as she finished hearing them, with the exception of Ashe’s. And her not confiding in Leon. But other than that, it was a constant rollercoaster, with pretty much every scene being jam packed with 3000 layers of character development and relationship building with lore sprinkled in. The elements that were amazing in the first game, like the fun dynamics between the characters and the subtle and unobtrusive exposition, are nothing but improved upon. I do wish we got to play more with the idea of the demon girls living alongside the mains, I think that aspect was severely downplayed almost immediately after it was introduced, but I’m crossing my fingers those potential dynamics get some time in the conclusions. Once again, my biggest gripes with the story are just that I feel like there’s so much more to explore and I can’t wait to see how the rest plays out. still giving this bitch a 10/10 on this one it was everything I wanted and more

GAMEPLAY

Combat: This was kind of... not even really utilized in bonus stage, which I didn’t actually realize until just now. There weren’t any real “boss battles” in the way there were in the first game, the closest thing to it would I guess be Dorothy’s showdown. Considering I didn’t even notice, I think that was a perfectly fine decision. The climax worked well without any actual fights. The battle mechanics continued to be functional and everything, just... not much of a thing.

Demon Requests: It could just be because I played a lot of bonus stage at a very different pace than I did the first game but the demon requests didn’t feel as frequent or intrusive this time around. I was always really excited to get to the request portion anyway cause of the photo booth and all the cool new areas, I had a super fun time using the deep sea bubble and I think overall the stuff that was added to the fantasy spaces was really neat. also lucy and coco rights

Minigames: Very hit or miss. It felt like the minigames were either so quick and easy they were hardly memorable or so tedious they made me wanna die. Take that with a grain of salt, though, I’m really bad at video games. There were very few of them anyway so it doesn’t matter much, but I guess it would’ve been nice if the minigames were less... Like that. To be fair, they were all still pretty charming or cool conceptually. Can’t really complain about getting to fucking shoot people as Dorothy even if it was hell to play.

Overall The demon requests were actually really enjoyable this time around, but the minigames and combat were kind of downplayed. Not to big of a deal, though, it’s not as if they were a focal point of the game to begin with. 7/10

ART & SOUND

Character Design: Not much to say that I didn’t already say after the first game, but the special bonus stage outfits are absolute bangers and I wish they got shown more often. And maybe I would’ve liked the guys to have a little more variety to their suits. But that’s nitpicking, Claire and the demon girl’s dresses are absolutely gorgeous.

Sprites and BGs: The overall art quality definitely got shaky in places but I gotta say, they pulled out ALL the stops for the sprites in this one. Ashe just fully has an entirely new set of them, and everybody else gets tons of new expressions too, all of which are super super good at conveying incredibly specific emotions. All I’m saying is, this would be a totally different game for me without the sprites, and I was always ecstatic to see new ones and figure out what was going on in the character’s head based on them.

OST and Sound Effects: Again, pretty much the same deal as the first game. I think there was a bit of a higher frequency for songs that made me immediately want to search for them so I could listen to them later though, thank god for that. So many good tracks.

Overall Continued to impress me, and then some. Only a slight improvement from the first game, in my opinion, but even that is pretty impressive since I didn’t have many issues with the first game to begin with. 8/10

So uh, in other words, I really really loved this game. Cannot WAIT to start best boy’s conclusion!!!

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Home sweet Home - Chapter 4

Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC

Summary: Emily Wines and Chris Evans have been friends since they were kids. When Emily needs a break from her life she moves in with Chris back in Boston. It sounds easy, but things never go as planned, right?

Warnings: swearing, violence, past trigger memories, eventual, possible smut.

A/N: This story has been on my mind for a while, and I have started writing it on AO3. So yes, I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I will writing it. There will be angst, fluff, an attempt of humour and maybe… maybe a bit of smut. Enjoy :)

Wordcount: 1974

Tags: @southerngracela

PREVIOUS

MASTER LIST

Leone's pizza was definitely the best thing in the entire world, and it never made her regret any of the many pieces eaten. With a ready bottle of tequila and food on the table, they were both sitting on the couch with a TV running quietly as a background sound. He was comfortably sitting on one end of the couch, while she was laying with her feet on his lap, spread snugly next to him.

He didn't push her to talk and she was taking her time with the first piece of the pizza. She moaned in appreciation, making him laugh out loud in her exaggeration. When she went for another piece, he leaned to the table, opened two bottles of beer, and poured two shots of tequila, giving her one and pushing the beer closer as a chaser.  

She smiled and took the challenge emptying the smaller glass. He followed her, taking a sip of a beer right after that. Oh, he never understood how she was able to drink that so easily.

"It all started when the Madrid restaurant idea kicked off." She started slowly, chuckling when he poured yet another shot. "Having two restaurants running already I had full hands of work. I travelled a lot, spent more time in the office or meetings than in my own flat. I did not have time for myself not to mention time for a relationship. " She took another shot. There was no way in hell she was about to talk about that stuff completely sober. "I was so preoccupied with my job that I just forgot about having a personal life." She stopped and licked her lips nervously, playing with the empty glass in her hands. "But a life like that tires even someone like me. So I decided to slow down and maybe come back to the dating life. You know I ain't getting younger, and this damn biological clock did not want to shut up", Chris chuckled, pouring another round, feeling like she was getting into the hard stuff. He was not a big fan of getting drunk anymore. He was not in his 20's anymore and the hangover the next day was never merciful, but it was different now. She needed that, and he would do anything for the woman next to him. "I decided to try some internet dating. You know it saved me some time to actually go out and try to find someone. And well, dating anyone from work was not an option. I did not want to bring work home." Another shot and another sip of the beer. She took a deep breath and turned around towards Chris, putting her head on his shoulder, which he welcomed automatically. She needed a bit of human contact if she was about to remind herself of that man.

"Don't force yourself, sweetheart", he whispered, softly kissing the top of her head. She snuggled a bit more into him and shook her head.

"No. I want it to be out of my chest." She grabbed the bottle and took a sip directly out of it, handing it to the man, who took a deep breath, only expecting the awful hangover the next morning. "Do you remember when I haven't contacted you for about six months, and I told you I had shit loads of work?" He hummed, handing her back the tequila, which she accepted, taking another, this time a much bigger sip. "I lied. I didn't contact you because I was working, but because my then-boyfriend was way too jealous to let me." She felt him stiffen under her, and the hand that was smoothing her arm stopped. "I met him on the internet. We talked a bit before we met. He looked like a really nice guy. Handsome, kind, intelligent. The whole package." She laughed lowly, remembering the stupid mistakes she made. Chris did not take the tequila from her. He was happy to stay with the beer and let her drown her sorrows in her favourite alcohol. "So after talking for a month through the internet, we decided to meet and go on a date." She was talking slower now, almost as she was looking for the appropriate words to use. "He was charming, lovely a great gentleman." She smiled and pushed into Chris' chest, almost like looking for comfort. "He was perfect. I was happy with him. He was understanding whenever I needed to go for meetings or stay longer at work. Yes, it was great, that's why we decided to try and move with each other after three months." His hand started to smooth her arm once again. He feared what she was about to say. He did remember her not contacting him for a quite a while, but she always blamed it on the amount of work she needed to deal with. "He had some jealousy issues. He turned into this controlling freak, that asked about every meeting, and every call I made. He made me drop all the contacts and stay with him as much as he wanted. I needed to put some extra work on my co-workers, telling them I had some health issues." She took another big sip of the alcohol and then another. He never stopped her, he'll be dealing with her hangover tomorrow. "I became his prisoner, and let him control my own life. My life became boring and out of my hand. Our life became monotone with him shouting at me and 'makeup' sex after that", he couldn't help but clench his jaw at her flinch. How he wishes to just go and beat the shit out of the man.

"Why didn't you leave?" He asked. Despite the anger he felt for the guy, his voice was soft. He tensed a bit hearing her sniff in the middle of taking another drink.

"I was afraid of being alone again. I was afraid of coming back to life when I was too focused on work. I want family, kids. A house with a garden and a little pool that the kids would swim in during their summer holidays." He smiled involuntarily, knowing exactly how she felt. He wanted the same. This beautiful image in his head has been there for years now. "I was so afraid of coming back to that life, that I made myself believe that even someone like that is better than being alone." She sobbed quietly with the memories of the fights came back. "And the sex was so awful..." She tried to loosen up the atmosphere just a bit. Chris chuckled and kissed her temple once again. "Nothing romantic. Just fucking to make him feel better. I seriously don't remember ever having an orgasm with him." She slowly started to mumble, and he only just noticed that the bottle was almost empty. She was getting drunk. And what scared him was the fact that this story was still not over.

"So why did you end it?" He asked, wanting to make sure he will know the end of the story before she passes out in his arms. He felt her tense up, and she made a swift move and ended up on his laps. He smiled at himself. She was really tiny and petite. She curled like a cat and hid her face in the crook of his neck. He felt her breath in, to stabilise her nerves. He encircled his arms around her waist, giving her a motion of security. He was there for her. That was the message he wanted to send her.

"He hit me." He froze. His movements stopped, the hand that was smoothing her back, was now clenching to her shirt. Anger boiling in him more and more. "We argued a lot, he was screaming and shouting at me but he never hit me, until that day. I still remember how much it hurt." She clenched into this chest, tears flowing down her cheeks. "He was shocked by the action the same as I was. He apologised after that immediately, but I had enough. I packed my stuff and left his apartment, shouting that if he ever contacts me again I will call the police. He never did." There was the silence, interrupted with her quiet sobbing.

"Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you call?" His voice was shaking with nerves. He hugged her tighter, afraid to let her go. What would he do to the man, if he knew? There would be no self-control. His career would definitely be over, but the man would have learned his lesson.

"Becuase you would have killed him." She answered almost as reading his mind. "You had your life, you were growing as an actor. Your name started to mean something in Hollywood. I didn't want you to throw that away with range." He closed his eyes, feeling his heart shudder in a million pieces. Despite all those things that happened to her, she was still thinking about him. She suffered quietly only for him to be able to grow.

"You are unbelievable. Stupid as a rock, but unbelievable", he whispered into her hair, making her chuckle. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her teary face in his neck completely. He let her stay like that, let her cry for minutes until her breathing slowed down, and he did not feel any more tears on his shirt.

"I decided that I will not go to bed with any guy until I know he is worth it..." She pulled away and looked at him, with those teary, red, beautiful eyes. "It's stupid, right?"

"It's not." He flicked her hair off her face and smiled softly. "It's understandable. And hey, if a guy cannot accept it, than his a loser." She smiled at him thankfully. He was such a sweetheart and she could not imagine not having him in her life. "And you are right. If I knew, I would have killed this son of a bitch." He added, making her chuckle. He could not believe how strong she really was and could not even think how awful she must have felt, but now she was here, with him and he would do anything to protect her. "Look at me Emily", she did as she was told, surprised to hear her full name from his lips. "You are the most amazing woman I know." His hand moved to her cheek, a soft smile appeared on his lips. "I hate that this happened to you, but please promise me, that no other fucker will ever have any control over you", he was so serious, despite his delicate tone. His beautiful blue eyes were gazing at her and she could not help but giggle.

"Ok, daaaad" he chuckled seeing her laughing. Well, she did after all just drunk almost whole bottle of tequila. She had a whole right to be tipsy, even drunk. "I'm sorry Chris", she leaned her forehead to his and closed her eyes. "I will never make any 'fucker' go-between us", he smiled. This was not what he meant, but he was happy that she saw their relationship as something that special. "I love you."

"I love you too, Em", he hummed quietly, and let her lean on his chest. It did not take long for her breath to steady. He looked down at her sleeping figured and felt his heart, break. He has always, since they were kids, protect her from the bad things from the world. He knew he would not be able to protect her forever, but he most mad at himself for not being at her side, when she needed him the most. At this moment he promised himself, he will protect her and will do anything it takes for her to be happy.

[darley1101]

Broken Fairytales Part 3: They All Fall Down

A/N This is more of a disclaimer. There will be several character deaths in this chapter. Some of them are really going to hurt. Writing this chapter was extremely hard. As someone who not only writes but reads fanfiction, I know that some of you are going to be upset. Please know that the characters that were chosen were chosen for a reason and that their deaths are crucial to the story I am trying to tell. If you are new to the story and would like to read the first two parts you can find them HERE

Trigger warning: character death and anxiety.

Word Count: 3034

tagging people who requested or might be interested:  @debramcg1106 @umccall71@alwaysthebestchoice @starstruckpixelberryhistoryvoid @indiacater @penguininapinktuxedo @boneandfur@laniquelove @3pawandme @museofbooks @bryannaberg4 @adgodleilimaxtmerpano @kingliamthirst @tmarie82 @boneandfur @drakewalkerwhipped@woshisilvia @rain18rain @never-ending-choices @captainkingliam@mrsnazario1223 @drakelover78 @gardeningourmet@nicestrokepam @bitchbrenner @iknewyoudcomearound @zilch3382 @hamulau @seirhukastan @lemongrove @rachelloouise@moodygrip @hhiggs  @hopefulmoonobject @jamielea81(if I missed anyone I apologize!)

permatag: @blackcatkita @josieschoices @endlessly-searching-for-you @mfackenthal @hamulau

Part Three:

They All Fall Down

It was a nightmare, the sort that was impossible to wake from. That was the only logical explanation Maxwell Beaumont could accept as he flattened himself against the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on a mental image of his best friend Karin's corgi Sir Wigglesworth. Sweet Wiggles with his bright eyes and very wiggly bottom. Not even the image of Wiggles with his tongue lulling out of the side of his mouth was enough to take Maxwell's mind off the fact that beneath him the white marble floor was stained red with blood. At this point, he couldn't even pinpoint whose blood he was lying in, other than it wasn't his own. Bodies littered the floor. Some were lifeless corpses riddled with bullet holes. Others were frightened people trying to be as still as death, hoping the masked men would either tire of whatever statement they were trying to make or run out of ammo. To Maxwell, it didn't matter. The damage was already done. Whether they stopped shooting now or continued for the next six hours, it wouldn't change the fact that his brother was among the dead.

“Maxwell?”

Over the din of gunfire and screaming, Maxwell can hear Hana calling his name. He tried to answer her, to tell her that he heard her and that he was alive, but his mouth felt as though cotton had been shoved in it. His body flinched as slender fingers dug into both his upper arms. “Maxwell, come on,” he heard Hana pleading. “Please. You need to get up. I need for you to get up.”

No! His mind screamed against the idea. Maxwell couldn't move. He had to stay where he was. Bertrand had told him to get down, to stay down. He hadn't listened the first time. He'd wanted to make sure his friends were okay. He'd needed to know that they were all okay. And then it happened. Bertrand had grabbed him and told him to get down. It had been the last thing his brother ever said to him. Seconds later a bullet had exploded in his chest. And then another and another. God, would that image ever go away? “Maxwell, please. Listen to me. We have to get out of here and in order to do that, I need for you to get up.”

Maxwell forced himself to look at her. Her almond shaped eyes were swollen and her nose red from crying. There was a large bloody hand print in the folds of her lavender silk gown, as though someone had reached up and grabbed her. It took him a moment to realize it was his and that he had another section of her skirt clutched in his fist. “Bertrand...” he said in a raw voice. Her eyes filled with tears.

“I know. I...I closed his eyes.” Her lower lip started to tremble. “I...I think Constantine as well as Kiara are gone as well.” Her throat visibly worked up and down as she lowered herself down so that she lay facing him. “I don't want to die Maxwell,” she whispered. “Not like this.” She reached out and cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand. “There's nobody near the door to the kitchens. We...we can make it. I just know it.” The pad of her thumb stroked soothingly across his cheek bone. “It's not far. Maybe ten feet.”

Ten feet. It might as well be ten miles. No, it was best to stay where he was. At least this way, if he didn't make it out of this alive, he was near Bertrand. His mother would want it that way. “You go without me.”

“I'm not going without you,” Hana bit out through clenched teeth. “You listen to me Maxwell Beaumont. You are going to get up and you are going to make a run for that door with me, do you understand?”

He wanted to tell her that he understood but his tongue wouldn't work. All he could think about was Bertrand was gone. He had nothing left. He was alone. That isn't true,  a voice in his head scolded. The voice sounded oddly like Hana. Hana, who was lying in the blood with him, begging him to come with her. To run away from this nightmare. “Okay,” he finally croaked out, taking a shuddering breath.

“On the count of three,” Hana whispered. Her hand slid from his cheek and flattened against the floor as she prepared to rise. He missed her touch, missed that connection with humanity. Without it, he felt cold and alone.“One.” She rose part of the way up, bundling her skirt in one fist. “Two.” Maxwell forced himself into a crouch, his heart pounding like crazy. “Three.” As they vaulted to their feet, Hana grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the staff doors that led to the kitchen. He kept waiting, waiting for the masked men to spot them and order them back to the floor; or worse, shoot them on the spot. Neither happened. By some miracle they made it.

“We did it,” he said it awe. They'd made it. They had actually made it.

“Not yet,” Hana panted. “We still have to-”

Behind her the door swung open. Leo stood there, his sea colored eyes wild as he slowly raised his hands and placed them on his head. His actions didn't make sense until one of the masked men nudged him further into the kitchen, a gun poking him in the small of his back. “Who are they,” the man demanded when he noticed they were not alone. .

Fuck!

Oh fuck!

He knew it. He knew he should have stayed on the floor. Nothing good came from not listening. Hadn't he learned that less than thirty minutes ago when his brother was shot and killed trying to get him to lie on the floor. “They're nobody,” he heard Leo say. He bristled at the implication. He was a fucking Beaumont and that meant something! “Just guests.”

“They look like more than guests.”

Hana squeezed his hand. Her fingers felt like ice. He tried to squeeze back, to reassure her that whatever happened, she wasn't alone, but he couldn't get his fingers to work. She squeezed again, a little harder this time. How was she so calm? There was no fear on her face, just a calm that Maxwell didn't understand.  

“They're nobody.” Leo insisted, the panic in his eyes reflected in his voice. “You wanted me to take you to the vault, to open it for you. How about we just leave them and carry on, yeah?”

“I'll decide if they're-”

A peculiar look formed in the masked man's eyes as his words are suddenly cut off. He wove to and fro for a moment before pitching forward. He hit the ground face first, his gun clattering against the tiled floor. Directly behind him stood a wild eyed Madeleine. Her usually perfect blonde curls were a mess around her stark white face and the front of her emerald silk dress gown sported what looked like a sizable amount of blood. Given the current state of the ballroom, none of that was surprising. What was surprising was the mace she clutched in her hand. Maxwell had seen it numerous times on the wall of the ballroom. Legend had it that it once belonged to a mighty warrior named Leon, who lost his life protecting his Queen. It could now add saving a former Crown Prince, a steel magnolia of a lady, and an anxiety addled nobleman to its history.  “Maddie.” Leo's voice cut through the tense silence. He slowly reached out, his large hand momentarily covering Madeleine's smaller one before he tried to gently pry the mace from her grip. She held tight, pulling her arm back slightly. “Maddie, it's me, Leo.”

Annoyance twisted her pretty features. “I know who you are Leo.” She brought the mace up against her chest, hugging it to her breasts. She lowered her lashes, her gaze fixated on the prone guard. A pool of dark red blood had started to ooze from the wound on the back on his head. “Is he dead? Did I kill him?” Her voice was so low Maxwell almost didn't hear her. There was a definite tremble to it, as though she too, were struggling to keep it together.

“I don't know and I don't particularly care.” Leo scowled down at their would be attacker. “His comrades will no doubt come looking for him. I suggest we not be here when that happens.”

“Leo is right,” Hana agreed softly. “We need to get out of here while we can.”

“No,” Madeleine shook her head, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears. “My mother is still in there.” She plucked at the blood stain on her dress. “They shot her. She wasn't doing anything, just standing there...and they shot her.” Her whole body seemed to fold in on itself as she curled forward, the mace still clutched to her bosom. “There was so much blood. I didn't know someone could bleed that much.” Her eyes met Maxwell's and in them he seen someone who understood his pain. She had often found herself at odds with her mother, much the way he had been at odds with Bertrand. There had always seemed to be enough time to apologize or compromise. Or so Maxwell had thought. Now there was no time. No time to tell Bertrand how much he appreciated the sacrifices his brother had made to finish raising him. No time to tell Bertrand that he loved him and that he was proud that they were brothers. No time to tell Bertrand that he was right, that Maxwell did need to grow up. I'm sorry brother, he thought miserably. I should have listened to you more. It was obvious from the pain on Madeleine's face that she was having similar thoughts about her mother.

“Madeleine, the best way to help your mother is to get out of here safely. You can't help her if you get yourself hurt or, worse, killed.” Steel magnolia Hana was back. Where she drew her strength, Maxwell did not know. It was admirable though, the way she was strong when she needed to be. She would break down later, when her strength was no longer needed. That was Hana's way.

“Nobody can help her,” Madeleine whispered bitterly. “Do you really think any of those...those animals are going to let anyone in to help their victims?”

There was truth to what she said. Even Leo and Hana had to acknowledge it. Acknowledging it didn't seem to detour Hana. “Listen to you. Giving up without trying? What happened to the girl who walked in here and clubbed an armed guard over the head? I want that girl.”

Madeleine blinked, her lips parted. “You're right,” she said. “Do you know how hard that is for me to admit?”

“Sheer torture, I'm sure,” Leo muttered as he walked past Maxwell and towards one of the stainless steel industrial sized freezers. “Safest route is going to be through the delivery tunnels.”

“And those are inside the freezer?” Hana eyed Leo skeptically.

“Actually, yes,” Madeleine answered. “King Perc-”

“They don't need or want a lecture on how one of my grandfather didn't want deliveries made in the open.” Leo yanked open a freezer door and swept his arm toward the inside. “Ladies and Beaumont's first.”

Single file, they entered the freezer. Around them hung slabs of meat, even a whole hogs. Maxwell shivered and tried not to throw up as he bumps into what used to be a cow. Leo took the opportunity to forge his way past. Ahead of him, Maxwell can hear Madeleine muttering. Under normal circumstances he would assume she was bitching about their surroundings. Things weren't particularly normal at the moment and she didn't seem phased by all the bodies hanging around them. “Are you alright,” he heard Hana whisper to the other woman.

“About as alright as the rest of you, I suppose,” Madeleine whispered back. “I can't stop thinking about my mother. We didn't always get along but she's my mother.”

“I'm sorry Madeleine...”

He couldn't hear the rest of their conversation over the loud blast of air that shot out from a vent above his head. He could feel the damp blood that still clung to him starting to frost. Unable to fight the wave of panic welling up in him, Maxwell started clawing at his suit. He had to get it off. He couldn't stand it anymore. His jacket refused to cooperate. It was as though it had become one with his flesh. “Gotta get it off,” he muttered, his breathes coming in short panicked bursts.

“Maxwell.”

He stopped his panicked clawing and found Madeleine, Hana, and Leo staring at him. “I need to get it off me,” he choked, clawing at his jacket once more.

“I understand,” Hana nodded. She stepped toward him, a determined look on her face. Bowing her head gracefully, her long, slender fingers shoo his clumsy ones away and she makes quick work of the buttons that had been holding him up. Gently, she pushed the jacket off his shoulders. He couldn't get it off fast enough. His shirt and undershirt followed suit, leaving him naked from the waist up.

“Give him your jacket Leo,” Madeleine said quietly.

“Right.” Leo shrugged out of his jacket and gently wrapped it around Maxwell's shoulders. “We'll be out of here soon, buddy, I promise.”

Maxwell couldn't bring himself to nod. He silently followed Leo through the freezer to the little door at the back of it. A blast of warm air hits them as they tumble out of the meat locker and into one of the delivery tunnels. Darkness engulfs them momentarily as the freezer door slams shut and locks behind them. He can hear Leo mumbling under his breath before a switch is flipped and dim overhead lights blink on. “This will lead to the service road. It's a short walk to the village from there.”

Madeleine shook her head. “You're an even bigger fool than I thought if you think walking into the village is a good idea. For all you know the villagers are the ones who orchestrated this whole thing!”

“Well we can't hide in here forever Maddie,” Leo snapped. “Do you have a better idea?”

“Don't call me Maddie, and yes, actually, I do. The service road also leads to the orchards. There should be some delivery trucks that haven't been loaded yet parked there. The keys are almost always hidden in the visors. We can take one and drive for help.”

It was a solid plan. The annoyed look on Leo's face suggested he thought so too. “Where will we drive for help though,” Hana asked. She had slid her arm through his, her slender body pressing against his side as they drew closer to the exit.

“I don't know,” Madeleine answered honestly. “I feel as though my country and her people have betrayed me.”

“We don't know who sent those men,” Leo argued. “They could just as easily be from Italy-”

Hana shook her head. “That isn't likely. The Italian Statesmen we met in Italy was one of the first ones killed.”

“Francesco?” Leo stared at Hana in disbelief. The sadness in his eyes confused Maxwell. Just moments ago he was suggesting Italy was behind the attack, but now he was sad over the death of the Italian Statesmen. “So...not Italy,” he murmured. “Russia perhaps?”

“Russia is too preoccupied with the United States,” Hana pointed out. “Plus, they’ve never cared about us before.”

“Open your eyes Leo. This was personal,” Madeleine snapped. “It wasn't about political gain, it was about political freedom. They specifically chose an event where all of the Royal family would be in attendance, as well as the Council of the People, and representatives from each of the Noble houses. They wanted to eradicate the monarchy.”

Hana cleared her throat. “We should probably sort this out later. If this was an inside job, its only a matter of time before they think to check here.”

“She's right,” Leo sighed. “Now isn't the time to sort this out.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. The weight of the world was etched on his features, a weariness dimming the light in his eyes. “Madeleine, much as it pains me, your suggestion of heading for the orchards is our best option.”

It was their only option, Maxwell thought. If Madeleine was right in her assessment that this attack had occurred in the name of political freedom, it was only a matter of time before the masked men started hunting down the remaining members of the noble houses, specifically the heirs. Bartie, he thought, his heart catching in his throat. The thought of anyone harming his tiny nephew...No. They wouldn't go after Bartie, he realized. They would come after him. According to Cordonian law, Bartie had no claims to House Beaumont or Bertrand's seat in the House of Representatives. That honor fell to Maxwell.

“Are you alright,” Hana whispered, pulling him into a half hug. Seeing no point in lying, Maxwell shook his head. “It's going to be alright. We're going to be alright.” He wanted to believe her, wished that he could believe her, but he couldn't. None of them were ever going to be alright ever again.

[kimyonaelioiscreative]

A Queen’s Duty

This was supposed to be a short story based of This post by @lolo-loco but I got a bit carried away... Well hope you like it!

And a Extreamly big tank you to my Beta reader @ryuzakura!!

Summary: The Queen and King of Spades was just going to have a romantic dinner, but that was not what they got.

It was quiet in the study, only the sound of a fountain pen writing on parchment could be heard. If one listened really closely a faint hum and a small curse would break the peace on several occasions, but no one would be surprised, the Queen had a rather foul mouth after all. On more than one occurrence this habit of his had gotten the country in a pinch, but it usually got resolved after the King talked some sense in the Queen who would, very reluctantly, apologise to whomever had been on the receiving end of his inappropriate words.

A new sound reached the Queen's ears, three deep, but in the silence, sonorous knocks.

“Come in,” the Queen said, trying not to show irritation on his voice.

The door slammed open accompanied with a happy cry.

“Artie! you're back!!”

“It is Arthur, your highness,” the Queen answered without lifting his eyes from the papers in front of him.

“Aaw, are you still mad about yesterday?” the King asked, a pout now taking over his beautiful features.

“No, why would you think that?” the Queen anwsered, still not averting his gaze from his work.

“Because you called me ‘your highness’ and you only do that when you are mad.”

Silence.

“Listen, I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you!” the King tried.

Finally putting down his pen and looking up into the King's blue eyes the Queen replied with a serious tone.

“You missed our wedding anniversary, there is nothing you can do to make it up to me, Alfred.”

“I know, I know. Just… Please have dinner with me tonight. I know I have been busy lately so please” the King begged “I'll even cook it myself!” He added as a last try in persuade the Queen.

The Queen pressed his lips into a tight line and looked over his husband, trying to find signs of any implications.

“Fine, but it better be a good bloody meal or you are sleeping on the couch for a month” he finally replied. Joy spread through the King’s body and his whole face lit up like a sun. He fist bumped the air and the Queen started to already regret his decision, shook his head and got back to work. Before the pen even touched the parchment however, the King started talking again.

“Where were you earlier? I came here four times and you weren't here any of them!!”

“I was away for one and a half hour, reading in the garden” the Queen said, annoyed.

“But you've been away like that for weeks, months even!”

“Yes Alfred, it is something I do every day as I find it calming and soothing in our hectic days.”

“Oh... I see.”

Looking up again the Queen realised the King wasn't going to move and sighed.

“You have more work to do, I am not accepting that you can't make it tonight because you weren't done.”

“But it's boring! I'd rather stay here” the King grinned. A glare from the Queen made the earlier pout come back and he surrendered.

“Fine” he said, drawing out the i “Meet me in the dining hall at six o’clock.” He turned around and walked away.

“Close the bloody door after you!” the Queen shouted but too late as The King was already too far away to hear. Or he just ignored it. The Queen got up to close it but the Jack, Yao, entered.

“Your Majesty, there is something we need to discuss, aru” the rather short, brown haired man said and closed the door.

          *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

As evening came The Queen went to his quarters to change into something more appropriate for a late anniversary dinner. After rummaging through his closet he found what he was looking for: a white dress shirt, a blue vest, light brown pants, brown boots and a blue coat. To top it all off, he also put on a big white bow around his neck and a blue small top hat with a white sash around its base angled a bit on the side of his head. With one last look in the mirror he took his usual white short gloves and left for the dining hall.

It was quiet again, only Arthur's’ footsteps echoed through the castle. It was strange, it nagged at the back of his head but he refused to worry now, he was going to have a wonderful evening with his husband and he would not let anything get in the way, especially not his paranoia.

Growing up in the castle had its pros and cons and the paranoia was one of those cons.

In the Kingdom of Spades the successors to the King and Queen wasn’t decided by who their firstborn was but rather who had the mark. The future rulers and their Jack had an upside down heart with a triangle at the bottom, the symbol of spades, on their wrist. The size of it decided which role one had been tasked with, the King had the biggest, the Queen a bit smaller and the smallest one was the Jack. It was very rare that two from the same family entered the Royal court without the pass of three generations. The Prince and Princess, which was the titles of the Queen and King’s inheritors, moved to the palace at the age of ten to start their education. Arthur and Alfred were a bit special though. Arthur was the son of the previous King and Queen and had started his lessons at the age of five which resulted in him also learning about the King's duties. Alfred, on the other hand, had been a traveler and wasn’t found until five and a half years ago, at the age of eighteen. This was a problem since the late King had been dead for 5 years, assassinated during Arthur's 15th birthday celebration. The Queen and the Princess had worked double to manage everything in the absence of a Prince. It didn't take long however, before the Queen had been bedridden due to stress and Arthur had taken the full work load for three years before Alfred arrived.

Arthur shook his head, no point in thinking about that now. He had put up three different types of entrance wards at every secret door that led into the castle and a charm that would notify him if anyone was to come through. The known doors had guards guarding them so no one would get in that way either. He would know if someone broke in… Right? There was always a possibility. Trying to get away from the uncomfortable silence he hurried his steps.

He opened the beautifully carved, massive oak doors that lead to the dining hall. The sight he was met with was not what he was expecting, in fact it was just as normal. So much for making up for a missed anniversary. Alfred wasn’t even  there. The only thing out of the ordinary was five lit candles in a half circle on the long table. He walked over, careful so Alfred wouldn’t jump out from behind a curtain, but he got to the table without any trouble. In the middle of the half circle of candles, he found a note.

Hey Artie!! So I thought dining in the hall would be a bit boring so I’ve hidden. Here is a clue as to where I am, come find me ;)   During the day this place is always warm, and I might spend more time there than I ought. Go chat with the lovely staff and they might tell you my path.

Arthur knitted his eyebrows togrther but couldn’t help the smile gracing his lips, Alfred had remembered. Now where do Alfred spend more time than he ought to? It was obvious, the kitchen.

The kitchen was just a room away from the dining room and as soon as Arthur opened the door he understood what Alfred meant with it being warm. The stoves were on full and it was as busy as ever, servants were running all around obeying every order the chef shouted. When Arthur entered however, they all slowed down. The King regularly visited but the Queen… Usually that meant disaster and the Queen had learned to stay away. Without being bothered by the change in atmosphere he walked inside and over to the still shouting young man in front of the stoves that was the Chef, Leon.

“Chef Leon”  the Queen said to get his attention. It worked and he looked up.

“Your Majesty, is there something I can do for you?”

“Yes, have you seen the King?”

“He was here earlier today, told me to give you something, wait here.” As he went to get whatever it was, the Queen looked at the pots and pans in front of him. He did have the urge to bake something but he knew he shouldn’t, he had learned he had no cooking skills whatsoever when he was a child and had set fire to the kitchen on five different occasions. After that he had been banned from even touching anything in there.

“Don’t even think about it” Leon interrupted his thoughts. He held out a straw basket which the Queen took.

“You didn’t even work here when it happened.” the Queen sounded offended.

“No, but they warned me, and you are not destroying this kitchen.”

“Fine” the Queen sighed and looked in the basket for the first time. In it lay a bottle of cold champagne and a piece of paper.

“Well I have to go, thank you for this” He held up the basket and Leon nodded before turning around at the sound of a pot hitting the ground. “Idiot! Clean that up while I’ll start on a new one!” He shouted and sprinted away to get ingredients. The Queen turned away from the chaos and exited through the same door he entered though. In the small room outside, that only served as to cut out the sound from the kitchen, he took up the note to find out where to go next.

Yeay! You found me! Well, one step closer at least. Now, Fun and games belongs elsewhere, for in this room with pens and papers more serious things adhere.

The Queen looked confused at the note, that one was actually good, had he gotten help to come up with it? He thought about it for a moment but then decided to just appreciate the effort. Putting back the note in the basket together with the first one he walked to his study, which he guessed was where to go.

It was just as he left it, every book in the shelf, the papers in a tidy pile on the left and his pen on the right. No, wait his pen wasn’t there, instead there was a beautiful empty gold frame with a note stuck in the left bottom corner. Was it really that easy? He took the note and read it.

One more item acquired, good work! So I tried the riddle thing and it didn’t work out so I’m just going to send you one more place before saying where I am and screw riddles. Go get your favourite book and meet me in the garden.

The Queen laughed, riddles took some time to come up with and he knew the King didn’t have the patience for it, but it was quite fun and he was surprised the King had managed to come up with two of them. He took a handkerchief he had when he worked, put it around the picture frame and put it in the basket. Now his favourite book was a bit harder, there were so many! How could he possibly choose just one? He started to walk toward the library as he pondered. There was all of Shakespeare’s works, or Jane Austen but he couldn't ignore Harry Potter or the Grimm brothers’ stories.

He arrived in the library faster than expected and looked up at the two stories of almost filled 3 meter tall bookcases. He loved it in here, the smell of the books, the light from the glass ceiling and the feeling of utter peace. He placed his left hand on the first book and stroked the back while reading the name before going to the next one. Every book was in order, first sorted alphabetically by the author's last name, than alphabetically by the title name with the exception of when it was a series, in which case it was sorted in reading order. He walked around, reading title after title but not really finding what he was looking for. More than twenty minutes after deciding to start from A he stopped with his hand on Barrie, J.M. He took out the book and smiled fondly, memories from his childhood washing over him. Memories of him picking this book almost every night as good night story, finding comfort in the familiar characters when he was sad and sneaking away from his studies at times just to say hello to them. Peter Pan. He stroked the book while walking down the staircase in the middle of the library. The basket, which he had put down by the bottom of the stairs on his way up to the second floor, he picked up with his left hand when he got back down. He didn't want to put the book in it in case it got a scratch but when he came to the door he had to, as he had no hand to open the door with. He was careful when he placed it next to the wrapped frame but still worried.

As soon as he had walked through the door he picked it up again and after a couple of turns he came to the big double glass doors that led to the back balcony and garden of the castle. He opened them and was overwhelmed by all the sounds. Birds chirping, the water in the fountain splashing, the wind blowing through trees and bushes and crickets playing. He stepped out, his steps on the stone adding to the symphony, the breeze rustling his hair and flowers trying to charm him with their scents. At the end of the balcony,  near where stone became grass sat the King on a purple blanket, set with champagne glasses, plates covered with metal dome, to keep the food warm, and cutlery.

As the Queen drew closer he could see that the King looked a bit gloomy but when he turned around his face lit up.

“Artie, I didn't think you would come!” He stood, giving the Queen a full view of his outfit. He wore a similar outfit to the Queen but the coat was a lighter shade of blue and a bit different in design and instead of the white bow the Queen had, the King had a dark blue tie. He also wore a broadsword in a scabbard on his left hip, making it easy for him to draw it with his right hand.

“Of course I would come. You just gave me a rather hard quest” the Queen answered and held up the book. They hugged as the Queen got to the blanket.

“Which one did you pick?” the King asked as he offered his hand to help his Queen. The Queen stubbornly refused and rather gracefully sat down on the blanket, putting down the basket and book next to himself before answering.

“Peter Pan, but you already guessed that, seeing as you made a sort of treasure map for me.”

“You said you loved playing pirate and detective as a child and I thought why not combine them! What did you think about it?”

“It was absolutely fantastic, you couldn't have started it better. However I do wonder what we are going to eat” he said and gestured to the plates in front of them. A twinkle appeared in the King’s eyes and he dramatically said

“May I present the most exquisite food you will ever get to taste” and he took off the cloche of the Queen's plate. Under it was a greyish white glob, which the Queen couldn’t quite say what it was, with some sort of meat on top.

“Mushroom risotto with pesto filled chicken filet” the King smiled as he saw the Queen's confused face. Realization dawned on the Queen but quickly went on to skepticism as he was not certain he wanted to taste it.

“Are you sure? It looks rather… distasteful.”

“Hey, that’s not nice! I mean sure, it doesn’t look the best but it tastes great. Even Chef said it did!” The King answered with a pout.

“I guess I'll have to taste it in that case.” He picked up the silver fork, took up a bit and tasted it. The King watched in anticipation for the Queen's judgement. After what felt like ages the Queen finally nodded.

“It does taste a lot better than it looks.”

“Really?!” the King almost shouted in enthusiasm, bouncing up and down.

“Yes” was all the Queen said before taking another bite. The King mimicked the Queen and they ate in comfortable silence. After twenty minutes however the King couldn't keep quiet any longer.

“Sooo, there's something I've been wanting to ask you…” he fumbled and the Queen raised an eyebrow. “Well, these past years I've learned a lot and I mostly know what to do. Yao’ve been a great help. And of course you have but… What exactly is it that you do? I know you work really hard, I just never understood with what…” he continued and looked uncertainly at the Queen who looked thoughtful.

“The Queen doesn't have a lot of duties. However, I  still manage some of the King's responsibilities  due to our circumstances.” He said after a minute and continued. “I manage education throughout the country, making sure all children get to learn how to write and read, I manage the economy, making sure we don't spend more money on infrastructure or repairs, than we can afford. Outside of this I have a network of people, spies if you like, keeping me informed on what's going on both in Spades and other countries…” Now he looked a bit uncertain, not knowing if he should continue or not. The King's curious face managed to get him to keep going. “There is however something very very few know about and that is what the most important duty of a Queen is…” He got a distant look in his eyes and looked away.

“And that is… what? the King tried but the Queen held up a hand.

“Quiet”

“Wha-”

“Shh. Someone is coming” The Queen stood up and the King followed.

“You sure?”

“Yes, they entered through the northeast passageway,” he said before hurrying toward the castle, addressing the men posted at either side of the balcony door. “Guards, be prepared, someone is coming. I can't tell much about the person but approximately 195 cm in height.” The King followed, listening to the the Queen’s words, his sword out of its scabbard, ready to fight. They got in position with the two guards at the front, then the King and at the back, the Queen.

They stood there waiting, one minute, two minutes, three minutes before they saw the intruder. They were covered in black armor from top to toe, making it near impossible to distinguish any fact that could help them in the battle. The only thing they knew was they were tall and looked really muscular in the suit. They walked confidently through the corridor and was soon in front of the four. For a moment everything was completely still and quiet, before hell broke out.

Two fast swings from the sword and the two guards’ troughs were cut making them fall to the ground in a pool of blood, their armors making a loud cacophonous sound as they hit the ground. Before the King could think, the black Knight was right next to him but the Queen had been faster and put up a shield. The King stabbed at the Night but only hitting air as they had already moved. The Queen started mumbling spell after spell, helping the King in his attacks by making his sword stronger and helped protect him in his defence. He tried to shoot attack magic at the Night but to no gain as it seemed his armor was protected from magical harm. So he continued helping the King, who seemed to be having the upper hand with the aegis of the Queen.

The Night quickly understood that he had to take out the Queen first. They changed their tactics and started moving in a circle around the King. To their dismay the Queen was smart and saw through it and moved along the circle too. The Queen did not have much energy left, all magic had its price and battle magic was the most expensive. The Night gave up on moving in a circle and sprinted head on toward the Queen, dodging the King's blade and pushing him to the side, ready to strike the Queen down. What they hadn't counted on was the King's strength. He might not look like it but he was the strongest in the cavalry and wasn’t as affected by the push as the Knight thought. Right before the blade was going to hit the Queen, he pushed the Knight in the back, making him stumble forward, resulting in only the sword's hilt hitting the Queen. The force was nevertheless powerful and it knocked the Queen unconscious.

When he came to again the King was on the ground, blood running from his head, using his sword as protection with one hand on the handle and the other on the blade. The Queen unsteadily got up, taking one of the dead Guards’ sword and ran forward. He had almost no strength left but he knew what he had had to do. He had to fight, fight until he won or died trying, there were no other options. He slashed at the Knight, not even making a scratch. It was pointless really, but he had to get their attention away from the King. He made a jab toward the Knight whom now had their focus on the Queen. Then he sidestepped, parried and lunged again.

Repeating again and again he kept the Knight's focus on him but he didn’t get anywhere. He had to, or he would soon get to the point where he wouldn't be able to even lift the sword. He had analysed the Knight’s armor and found that there was nowhere he could do any damage, the parts imbricated each other. Although there was one way… When he had given the King's blade extra power it had damaged the armor, so theoretically speaking he should be able to give his own blade extra power and cut through the armor to make a weak spot. On the other side that would most likely drain all his power. But he had no other choice. He took a deep breath and started chanting. A blue light swirled around the blade making the Queen's face look grim and cold. One last parry and with all he had, he thrust the sword right into the stomach of his opponent making them fall back on the ground, blood seeping out from around the blade that stood right up in the air. The Queen breathed out and would have collapsed on the ground if the King hadn't caught him.

“Th- thank you, I'm fine” the Queen said weakly and pushed off the King's hands, but as soon as he had done that, he gasped in pain and fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. The King watched as if in in slow motion as the Queen fell and fury exploded inside him as he saw the Knight on one knee, blood dripping from his sword. The King acted without thinking, anger controlling him. Without problem the King went past the black sword and pressed the blade the Queen had left further, making only the hilt visible. The knight fell back, dropped his sword and gave up, but the King wasn't done. He pulled out the sword , angled it a bit and pressed it back in, turning the blade making the Knight scream before going limp. Just to be sure the King stabbed the Knight a few more times before throwing away the sword and rushing back to his Queen.

The Queen was in a bad shape, almost all colour had drained from his face, and he was only able to take short breaths at a time. The King kneeled next to him, carefully picking him up in his arms and starting to walk into the castle.

“Hey, it's okay now, it's okay. Stay with me.” The Queen's eyes fixed on the King’s and a weak smile formed on his lips.

“This” he said, just above a whisper, loud enough for the King to hear, before he closed his eyes and went limp.

   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

The country was in mixed state of mourning and chaos. Everyone wondered what had happened in the castle and rumours spread like wildfire. Alfred knew he had to do something, but what? The late Queen had told him, when he just became King, to trust his instincts, that he was born for the role of king and he would know what to do. Although now his instincts told him to crawl into a ball and hide as he cried, but he knew he couldn't do that, he had to take care of his people. But he was so scared. Scared of what could happen. He hadn't left Arthur’s side for the three days he'd been bedridden thus far and he would not leave him until Arthur himself forced him away, and he knew there was a slim chance that would happen and a bigger risk it wouldn’t.

The doctor visited twice a day to check on everything and change the bandages over Arthur's wounds. Everytime Alfred saw them he started to cry, he couldn't hold it in. It was his fault. His fault Arthur was lying there, pale as a ghost, fighting to stay alive. He had been so brave, to fight someone twice his size without hesitation. Fighting… that was what he had been practicing these past months when he disappeared. Alfred had of course known Arthur had lied when he said he was reading in the garden; he had looked for him there, and this was the explanation.

A soft exhale turned his focus back to reality and he turned to see a pair of half opened emerald green eyes. They skidded around, taking in where he was. A few blinks and another look around before they landed on Alfred. “Artie, you’re awake!!” he exclaimed and threw himself into a tight hug around Arthur’s shoulders, careful not to touch his wounds.

“It seems like I am” a small but surprised voice sounded.

Alfred couldn’t hold it in, he started crying and they just lay there, Alfred whispering `you’re alive` over and over through his sobs.

After a couple of minutes Arthur gently touched Alfred’s shoulder.

“Alfred, love, could you please get off, I’m having a hard time breathing.”

“Ah, of course, sorry!” He quickly removed himself from Arthur and Arthur drew tried to draw a deep breath but grimaced in pain.

“Ah, how is it? Do you need anything? Water? Pain reducing spell? Wat-”

“No it’s fine Alfred, don’t worry”

“Don’t worry?! You almost died! Why did you do that, just throwing yourself in front of there and the only thing you say is `this`, what do you even mean by that? What would I have done if you didn’t wake up? I can’t rule this country, I don’t even know what I do everyday!” He sounded terrified and tears started falling from his eyes again. Arthur carefully sat up, pain shooting through his whole body, telling him to lay back down, but he didn’t listen.

“Alfred” he said soft but harsh at the same time which caught the attention of the other. “What I mean with ‘this’ is that that is my most important duty, saving the King. The Queen is dispensable, the country can manage without one, but the King is vital. When my father died, my mother and I did everything we could to keep the country together. It did not work; none of the other countries took us seriously, no one wanted to continue trading with us among other things. We don’t have what a King have naturally, we can’t give the country what it needs. That is why I did what I did, to save you and the country, for rather I die than you.” To this Alfred was quiet for a minute, thinking.

“That is total bullshit, I could never… I could never make it without you.”

“Yes, you would. Maybe not alone but you would have had help from great people.” This didn’t seem to help Alfred, rather it seemed to make him feel worse so Arthur sighed and continued. “Well, there is no need to think about what could have happened, we'll just have to figure out a plan for the future where none of us die unless of old age.” To this Alfred raised his head with a thoughtful smile.

“That sounds like a good plan.”

[blackmanorcastleinthesky]

Two more girls under the age of ten went missing. Three months had passed since the first kidnapping, and they were no closer to figuring out where the girls were being taken. Or if they were still alive at all.

Charlie had never been less interested in a winter solstice ball. Reynolds handled most of the details herself, with Charlie only making himself useful by writing out the invitations. Leon hadn’t had to lift a finger except to sign his name a few hundred times.

The guest wing was aired out and freshened up to prepare for the invitees who would be staying in the castle. Charlie spent hours going through the secret passages in the walls, traveling the maze of rooms to make sure all the hidden doors would remain that way. The last thing he needed was some shitfaced noble stumbling around in the cramped, dark walkways.

Guests began arriving a day earlier than the start of the winter solstice festivities that would last a week in total. The nobility had their ball on the first day. The rest of the week was much more casual, and took place in the city proper. The streets lined with countless vendors, selling everything from sweet seasonal pastries to hand-made one-of-a-kind pieces. Rosewood could throw a good party, and they held the festival in the earliest part of winter, so the temperatures were bearable. Any later, and the heavy snowfall around the mountains made the roads impassable.

The last thing they needed were fussy foreign nobles stuck in Rosewood Hall waiting for the snow to thaw.

Charlie and Leon were hiding. It was cowardly, but Reynolds would have ended up shooing them away at some point anyhow. Let them conserve their energy for the ball tomorrow night. They could only take so much ass-kissing.

They’d retreated into Charlie’s private workroom. His work space was separated from a sitting area by a half-wall, and they’d brought enough booze to last them the night. One of the cooks had forced a tray of finger foods onto them, which they’d accepted gratefully.

Now they were sitting opposite each other, chess board set up on the low serving table between them. Leon was studying the board, idly swirling a glass of bourbon in one hand. Charlie was refilling his own glass, about to comment that Leon could go ahead and forfeit now, if he wanted, when he heard a soft sound coming from the secret passage in the adjacent wall.

Leon looked up, brows lifting. Charlie put a finger to his mouth to request silence. He stood and walked lightly to the section of wall that would slide out of the way when he slotted his fingers beside the right panel at the correct height.

The quietest shuffling of footsteps halted, as if the owner of said footsteps heard Charlie’s near-silent approach.

Not wanting the sneaky little shit to get away, Charlie slid his fingers over the switch hidden in the wall, pushing it smoothly out of his way. A figure stood a few feet away in the dark, Charlie’s shadow keeping their face hidden for the moment. He could still make out the silhouette of a person wearing a dress.

He stepped to the side to move his shadow, revealing a young woman. “A little late to be exploring, don’t you think?” Charlie asked dryly.

“Perhaps,” said the woman, just as dryly. She arched one brow at him, her eyes dark in the low light. “Good evening, my lord.”

“My lady,” Charlie said, looking her over. The gown was simple, but well-made. She was certainly nobility. A young woman in her twenties. “Since you came all this way, might you like to come inside?”

She hesitated. Charlie didn’t know what to make of her expression, but it made him uneasy. He took a step back from the doorway, motioning her inside. He’d be an asshole to make her turn around and find her own way back to her room.

“The guest wing is on the other side of the hall,” Charlie drawled. “Quite a trek for the middle of the night. Did you get lost, trying to get back to your room?”

“No,” she said, stepping out of the narrow passage and into the light. She blinked as her eyes adjusted, and Charlie gave her plenty of space, hands visible at his sides, his posture purposefully relaxed.

Her answer made him snort. “No?”

Her lips curved into a smile that reminded him of a viper. “No, I didn’t get lost. I was bored.”

Charlie stared at her for a beat, and she held his gaze, unwavering. “Indeed.” He sighed. “I swear I checked all of those hidden doors to make sure they were secure.”

“It was secure, my lord,” the woman said politely. “But the switch wasn’t difficult to find.”

Her nonchalance made Charlie feel like a pissy cat; some animal part of him wanted to arch its back and hiss. “Is that so,” he said, deadpan.

“I can show you, if you’d like,” she offered.

Leon was at Charlie’s side. “My lady,” he said, offering a bow. “Charlie would be happy to take a look at it in the morning, I’m sure,” he said. “We appreciate your apparent eye for detail.”

That insidious smile again. “Of course, Your Highness. Lord Payne.” She dipped in a curtsy, no lower than was necessary. “I apologize for the intrusion.”

That had Leon waving a hand. “Please don’t. We don’t mind the company, I assure you. And really, Leon is fine. We don’t stand much on formality here if we can avoid it.” He smiled at her, madder blue eyes bright and interested. Charlie wanted to hit him. “What should we call you, my lady?”

“Cecelia Marseille is my name,” she said. “But Cecelia is fine.”

Charlie felt his brows furrow. “Marseille. Your father is the viscount, correct?” Her name was familiar, but she hadn’t been on the council’s list of eligible ladies.

“Yes,” said Cecelia. “That’s correct.”

Leon gestured to the seating area, their chess board in limbo, tray of nibbles forgotten. “If you’re bored, perhaps you can help me win this round? Charlie’s relentless.”

Cecelia laughed softly as they made their way back over to the game. She sat on the sofa beside Leon, across from Charlie. Her eyes were intent on the board for a few moments. Then she frowned.

“Oh dear,” she said.

Leon sighed. “I know. It’s not that I’m terrible, but he’s very good.”

“I don’t know that that’s true,” said Cecelia.

Leon burst into laughter. Charlie scowled at her, the corners of his lips twitching. “Which part?”

Cecelia looked up at him from across the board and lifted her brows. She said nothing.

Charlie made an impatient sound. “Will one of you please make a move so I can win this one, please?”

“Pushy,” Cecelia said softly, eyes flicking back to the chess board. She moved a piece and sat back, smiling all too mildly for a woman about to lose. “Okay.”

Charlie didn’t know how it happened, but she put him in check mate ten minutes later. Leon was sitting beside her on the couch, hands over his mouth, staring between her and Charlie, shoulders quivering with silent laughter.

“The fuck,” Charlie muttered.

Cecelia was beaming. “You were doing really well, my lord.”

Leon lost it, making ugly noises into both hands. “Charlie,” he was gasping, “your face, oh my-”

“Shove it, Leon.” As his voice lost its edge, Leon laughed harder. “Damnit, Leon, you sound like a donkey. Stop.”

Cecelia picked up Leon’s previously abandoned glass of bourbon, gave it a curious sniff, and took a sip. She met Charlie’s gaze, smirking, and lifted the glass. “Victory sip.”

The floor felt as if it were tilting under Charlie. He held Cecelia’s gaze for a long, lingering moment. Then he grunted and went about resetting the pieces on the board. They played another round, and Cecelia had him beat in half an hour from start to finish. She was very good. They played a third round, and Charlie won, but it hardly felt like a victory when there was a headache starting to thud in his temples.

“I hadn’t seen that particular move set before,” Cecelia said thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “Nicely done, my lord.”

He huffed. “Charlie is fine.”

“Fine. Nicely done, Charlie.” She was smiling at him again, and it was damn unnerving.

He never used his psychic ability to invade someone’s mind without a good reason; it felt invasive and wrong. And even when he had all the reason in the world to slip inside of somebody’s head, it still made him sick to his stomach. But Charlie itched to know what Cecelia was thinking.

They’d never met before, but there was something familiar about her. Charlie couldn’t put his finger on it.

Cecelia stood, then. “Well, gentlemen, it’s very late. I should head back to my room, but thank you so much for the entertainment tonight.” Her eyes were deep indigo, looking more blue in some light, and more violet in others. Her gaze was piercing as she looked between the two of them. “I suppose I’ll see you both tomorrow night?”

Leon stood, gently touching her elbow. “Of course. Would you like me to walk you back to your room?”

Cecelia smiled slowly. “No, that’s all right. Thank you.” She gave Charlie a look that made him grit his teeth. “I think I know a shortcut back with your secret tunnels, if that’s okay?”

Charlie was tempted to tell her no and make her use the regular hallways. But a small, vindictive part of him hoped that she got turned around, lost, and ended up needing help. An even smaller, quieter part of him would be thrilled if she managed it. He’d probably have a chance to ask her about it tomorrow.

“Have at it,” Charlie told her, wiggling fingers. “Good night, Cecelia.”

“Good night, Charlie, Leon.” She dipped in another gentle curtsy and made her way out, expertly finding the false wall, opening it, and disappearing inside as the door shut behind her, leaving the wall smooth and ordinary-looking.

Leon began gathering up their empty glasses onto the tray, which they’d picked clean during their three rounds of chess. Charlie watched him tidy up, wondering at the way Cecelia kept her footsteps so quiet as she departed.

When she could no longer be heard, Leon said, “I like her.”

“Of course you do,” said Charlie. “She’s pretty. I don’t trust her.”

“You don’t trust anyone,” Leon said. “You’re paranoid.”

“My paranoia is the reason you’re still alive,” Charlie reminded him.

Leon rolled his eyes. “One of the reasons, yes.” He fixed the chess board, aligning each piece back into their starting position. “Is she, ah, on the list?”

“Leon.”

The redhead grinned, shameless, and shrugged his broad shoulders. He had the white queen, turning it over thoughtfully in his hand. “I told you, I like her. She’s clever, like you.”

“All the more reason to be suspicious of her,” he said. “And really, do you honestly need more than one of me in your life?”

“I’m not going to answer that.” Leon placed the queen on the board and stood, gathering up the tray. “Good night, Charlie.”

Charlie flopped back onto the sofa, throwing an arm above his head. “Good night, Leon. Cut the light on your way out, please.”

As the room went dark and Leon made his exit, Charlie shut his eyes. He didn’t dream of Witch, but he did dream of Cecelia down in the dungeon with him, pale fingers wrapped around a bloody knife.

It didn’t feel like a nightmare, but he woke up with his heart racing nonetheless.