#and so it’s said that he must be destroyed for the sake of humans’ piece of mind

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #245

[riverxsong-ao3]

"So to answer your first question," Tom replied, "Voldemort did complete the ritual needed to secure an object as his Horcrux – it was, if I recall correctly, meant to be his own wand, a rather stupid choice considering that, usually, the more one interacts with their own Horcrux, the more likely it is that the soul fragment inside will try to break free and reattach itself to the whole. In any case, I obviously found a better place to reside, and Harry and I don’t seem to have the same problem.”

“I don’t think I can agree that my godson was a better place for Voldemort’s soul to end up,” Sirius said, looking rather sick.

“Sirius, stop,” Harry said, wrapping his arms protectively around Tom. “I’m glad he found me.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” Sirius replied, running a hand through his hair. “However, what’s done is done, I suppose.”

“As to your second question,” Tom continued, “there is very little properly understood about the true nature of Horcruxes, let alone those made of a living being. And that’s to say nothing of a human Horcrux. As far as I know, Harry is the first in recorded history. To say that his own soul greatly affected mine is an understatement to the grandest degree.”

“Fine,” Sirius barked. “So he brought you back on love alone. I can pretend to accept that. What I can’t just blindly accept is the idea that Voldemort, knowing about Horcruxes, waited until his planned murder of my godson to create one. There must be another one out there.”

Tom debated with himself for a moment. “If there were, what would you do?”

“I would find it and destroy it,” Sirius replied instantly. “Even if I couldn’t tell anyone else –”

“No!” Harry exclaimed. “You can’t, you really can’t!”

“Harry!” Sirius reprimanded. “Do you understand what Horcruxes do? If Voldemort’s made one, it tethers him to life. He’ll never truly be gone until it’s destroyed!”

“I know that!” Harry cried. “But that’s Tom’s soul, he needs it back!”

“So Voldemort did make another Horcrux,” Sirius concluded, looking at Tom. “And you… you want to... what, reabsorb it? What about Voldemort himself? So long as you exist, he’ll still be out there.”

Tom sighed. In for a Sickle, in for a Galleon, he supposed. “Yes, he made several,” he admitted. “Harry’s death was meant to be used for number six – a seven part soul, an auspicious number, to be sure, but Voldemort was an idiot. No one’s meant to break their soul up that many times.”

“No one’s meant to split their soul at all, Tom.” Sirius said, aghast. “Merlin’s sake, the soul is sacred, it –”

“I know that now,” Tom interrupted, his arms flinging out in front of him, unbidden, in exasperation, “which is why I’m going to undo what Voldemort did. I’ve already done it once, there’s only four pieces left now.”

“You mean, aside from Voldemort himself and the piece of yourself you must have left behind in Harry after resurrecting,” Sirius accused. Tom shrugged — no use in denying it.

“That piece is mine,” Harry said fiercely. “I don’t care that it used to be Voldemort’s soul, it’s Tom’s now, and I love it.”

“Harry, that’s not – you can’t –“ Sirius ran a hand over his face. “Argh, you kids are weird.”

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Mothers of the Moon

Chapter 2: It’s Over

(Using @wolfstarmicrofic prompts)

Masterpost

Remus woke up later in the day, his friends already there, waiting for him.

“Moony!” James said brightly, Poppy watching as Remus flinched at James’ enthusiasm.

“Christ, why are you so happy?” He asked quietly, Poppy trying not to eavesdrop. She could easily have left, but part of her didn’t want to, slightly desperate to know what was going on. Not that she would ever admit that.

“Because it worked! You’re okay!” Poppy glanced over at them for a moment, witnessing a smile break out on Remus’ face.

“I was so worried. You lot are idiots.”

“Idiots or geniuses?” Sirius asked triumphantly.

“Idiots.” Remus responded, no hesitation.

“Would a bunch of idiots be able to master one of the most complicated magical processes of all time?” Peter asked, slyly. Poppy froze, the puzzle pieces finally sliding into place.

The most complicated magical process that helped Remus with his lycanthropy?

Shit.

Animagi.

They had become fucking animagi. Illegally. Poppy wasn’t sure what she was meant to do. Kick them out? They’d endangered their lives and Remus’ safety.

She didn’t have the authority to do anything about it, but she knew who did. They couldn’t let that continue. It was dangerous. Less than 2 minutes after Poppy had sent the note, she heard the familiar footsteps rapidly approaching.

“Boys.” She practically hissed, her voice so low it was almost deadly. With the simple wave of a wand, a silencing charm clouded the empty hospital wing.

“Is everything alright, Professor?” Sirius asked, confused, slightly wary.

“No, everything is not alright!” She snapped, Poppy almost scared at her seething anger. “You’ve become illegal animagi?” The colour drained from their faces, Remus’ eyes fixing on the blanket.

“What are you-?”

“Save it.” All four boys went silent, stunned. “You’re putting yourselves, and my son, at serious risk!” She took a deep breath, running an exhausted hand over her face. “I’m not going to report you. You’re idiots, but there’s no point in destroying your education, but you will be in detention for the next three months, which is the most generous you will see me be for a long time.” They nodded quietly. “And it’s over. Got it?” Sirius’ head finally snapped up, concerned.

“No.” He had met her gaze, eyes steely, unmoving.

“Sorry?”

“Why would we stop? Look at him! He’s better than he’s been after a full moon for as long as we’ve bloody known him! And we’re fine!”

“You were fine this month. What happens if one of you struggles to transform, gets injured? You’d be forcing Remus to live with that for the rest of his life!”

“We’re not idiots! We’ve been researching for years! We spent months making sure we could easily transform between human and animal form! We’d never endanger Remus!” Sirius snapped back. Poppy watched the interaction, stunned, with an ounce of… regret? Remus really was fine. That had never happened before. She shook her head, turning back to her potions. She couldn’t think like that. Her son, and her students, were in danger. Minerva was right, it couldn’t continue.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t intentionally endanger Remus.” Minerva had softened her tone, trying another approach. “But you’re young, you don’t understand just how irresponsible this is. You’re not doing it again. Do you hear me?”

“But-“ Remus finally said something, but Minerva was done listening.

“Remus, I’m doing this for your sake. I won’t allow it.” Poppy hadn’t heard her so sure of anything in a long time. So sure that the boys didn’t bother arguing. As she turned to walk out, Remus glanced up at Poppy, stunned.

“Did you- did you tell her?” He asked quietly, and Poppy felt her face heat up with shame. She was doing the right thing. She was.

“Once I’d figured out what you were doing, yes. It wasn’t safe, Remus, you must know that.” She insisted gently. After a moment of agonising silence, Remus wordlessly pushed the blanket off himself.

“I’m going to the dorm.” The boys followed him out the hospital wing, as one thought replayed over and over in Poppy’s mind.

She hadn’t seen him walk so well after a full moon in years.

She and Minerva were convinced that they’d made the right decision. They had. The next full moon passed normally enough; the usual scars, recovery time, everything. The only difference was how quiet the group were. Still, Poppy was able to force the gnawing feeling that this was the wrong decision down.

Until Remus almost died.

[relevant-url-incoming]

the true miracle of me creating a roleswap au is that I so far only have the one. We shall see how long that lasts.

It starts out when Kit is a child, not yet a Jedi padawan but familiar with the basics of the Force and already bound at the hip to Kaojacol. I imagine that, although this is more a "those weird young people/new money" type of trend, there may well be people in the Empire who do the sci-fi equivalent of shady transracial adoptions - here is a kid they can say they saved by raising them in traditions that would never be their own, in this case an alien being "saved" by human "parents", but even better than that for them is that they can send Kit off to Korriban soon after that, gaining all the clout of a child among the Sith without having to contend with actually taking care of said child or losing their blood child to such training. Kit doesn't know if he's glad or not to be free of the people who kidnapped him, because Korriban feels like more of the same but with more Force lightning, but he knows anger intimately at a much earlier age than in my main canon. His anxiety is still there, and still drives him, but he doesn't have the same downward spiral because there's nowhere to spiral to.

It also starts out when Tavansa and Sarrant's mother goes against their father's wishes by sending Tavansa away, into the Republic, so she can train as a Jedi where it's safe rather than in the abusive lifestyle of the Sith. Tavansa's empathy and delight in the small joys of life are never corrupted by the anger and violence of the Sith, though she's always afraid to lose herself for the sake of others. Sarrant, not being Force-sensitive, stays with his mother when she leaves their father, but learns early the value of freedom. He becomes a boutny hunter as an adult, the better to make his own rules and create his own family. He doesn't shy away from attacking Jedi, but always in the back of his mind he's afraid that someday he'll face his sister again on opposite ends of a weapon.

It also starts when Kaoja's best friend vanishes overnight, and she throws herself into combat training, becoming a Jedi Knight. Losing the person she loves like a piece of her own heart hardens her and makes her reckless; as a padawan she nearly dies trying to infiltrate Korriban on her own, certain that her childhood friend is alive and there. She doesn't find him, not for years, but her path takes her into the heart of the Empire and she decides that if she can't bring her best friend back she can at least destroy the system that took him away.

But maybe it starts when Rig is pulled from slavery by an Imperial Agent who thinks he can be manipulated, molded into a weapon who thinks he has the power but never will. Rig is happy to be the loose cannon they set sliding whenever they please, knowing that the Empire depends on what he does, and happier still when his actions reveal cracks in Intelligence or the Empire itself. He doesn't feel any particular loyalty to his bosses, but he does love knowing how much they need him.

I know it doesn't start when Ven and Nalyan come through time, still separated and still convinced they're alone. Nalyan is just on the other side of the wall from a briefing Kaoja attends, a briefing so secret that his being there makes the soldiers who find him think he must be a spy until he lies and says he got lost on his way to his first day as a soldier - a job he's never wanted, that reminds him of the worst day of his life every time he sees trooper armour. Ven is among slaves on Korriban, and almost immediately stages a revolt and escape. She is caught, but she's satisfied with what she's done, until the Sith tell her she won't die. She'll be a slave herself, one who'll have to watch her fellow slaves die any time she steps out of line - and when that gets too much, and she tries to use the Force she never touches to change the balance of power, she catches the eye of Darth Zash herself, sending her down the last path she ever wanted.

It ends with Exchei, one of the slaves Ven saves, stealing a broken-down ship and running away to become a no-name criminal in the Outer Rim. She has no purpose, no intentions, no training in the Force she learned to hide a long time ago - but she's free and happy and she builds a crew full of people she cares for, and she'd take that over power any day.

[bookoformon]

3 Nephi 21, Part 2. "Marvelous Work."

In the first part of the chapter, Jesus in the form of a Spirit says "We are beautiful when we are organized within the Marble Office." Now He explains what the implications of this organization are to the world outside.

The endpoint is what is called Ephesus, a new era with the Spirit of God at the front and the Spirit of God at the rear. All humanity for all all history must recount of the Godliness of the generations that came before. We are not able to do this because of the people that enforce the idea salvation comes from staring at a full color picture of a bearded man in a bathrobe.

This is nonsense rubbish. There are material objectives of the study of the Gospels and pictures of Jesus are not among them. The Book of Mormon says "from work to work". If we can't see it work, then it's not working. If the eyes of whackjobs are problematic, then their ears and mouths are worse:

8 And when that day shall come, it shall come to pass that kings shall shut their mouths; for that which had not been told them shall they see; and that which they had not heard shall they consider.

9 For in that day, for my sake shall the Father work a work, which shall be a great and a marvelous work among them; and there shall be among them those who will not believe it, although a man shall declare it unto them.

10 But behold, the life of my servant shall be in my hand; therefore they shall not hurt him, although he shall be marred because of them. Yet I will heal him, for I will show unto them that my wisdom is greater than the cunning of the devil.

11 Therefore it shall come to pass that whosoever will not believe in my words, who am Jesus Christ, which the Father shall cause him to bring forth unto the Gentiles, and shall give unto him power that he shall bring them forth unto the Gentiles, (it shall be done even as Moses said) they shall be cut off from among my people who are of the covenant.

12 And my people who are a remnant of Jacob shall be among the Gentiles, yea, in the midst of them as a lion among the beasts of the forest, as a young lion among the flocks of sheep, who, if he go through both treadeth down and teareth in pieces, and none can deliver.

13 Their hand shall be lifted up upon their adversaries, and all their enemies shall be cut off.

14 Yea, wo be unto the Gentiles except they repent; for it shall come to pass in that day, saith the Father, that I will cut off thy horses out of the midst of thee, and I will destroy thy chariots;

15 And I will cut off the cities of thy land, and throw down all thy strongholds;

16 And I will cut off witchcrafts out of thy land, and thou shalt have no more soothsayers;

17 Thy graven images I will also cut off, and thy standing images out of the midst of thee, and thou shalt no more worship the works of thy hands;

18 And I will pluck up thy groves out of the midst of thee; so will I destroy thy cities.

19 And it shall come to pass that all lyings, and deceivings, and envyings, and strifes, and priestcrafts, and whoredoms, shall be done away.

20 For it shall come to pass, saith the Father, that at that day whosoever will not repent and come unto my Beloved Son, them will I cut off from among my people, O house of Israel;

21 And I will execute vengeance and fury upon them, even as upon the heathen, such as they have not heard.

22 But if they will repent and hearken unto my words, and harden not their hearts, I will establish my church among them, and they shall come in unto the covenant and be numbered among this the remnant of Jacob, unto whom I have given this land for their inheritance;

23 And they shall assist my people, the remnant of Jacob, and also as many of the house of Israel as shall come, that they may build a city, which shall be called the New Jerusalem.

24 And then shall they assist my people that they may be gathered in, who are scattered upon all the face of the land, in unto the New Jerusalem.

25 And then shall the power of heaven come down among them; and I also will be in the midst.

26 And then shall the work of the Father commence at that day, even when this gospel shall be preached among the remnant of this people. Verily I say unto you, at that day shall the work of the Father commence among all the dispersed of my people, yea, even the tribes which have been lost, which the Father hath led away out of Jerusalem.

27 Yea, the work shall commence among all the dispersed of my people, with the Father to prepare the way whereby they may come unto me, that they may call on the Father in my name.

28 Yea, and then shall the work commence, with the Father among all nations in preparing the way whereby his people may be gathered home to the land of their inheritance.

29 And they shall go out from all nations; and they shall not go out in haste, nor go by flight, for I will go before them, saith the Father, and I will be their rearward.

There are many symbols and metaphors in the above verses and that implies the use of Gematria, but for the moment, sit with the utter meaning: the pursuit of humanity in chariots of tyranny is fruitless and hateful. Our cities are falling down, being washed away and burnt down.

The land is being poisoned, the air is being fouled, and all of this is because our faiths have been unable to marshall us against the corrupt, the evil, and the cruel.

The final verse in the section says "go out, from all the nations and make the evil take flight," God says, "and I will go with you. Have faith my wisdom is greater than their cunning."

So why are we tolerating those chilled monkey's brains in the Republican Party who engage in circulating their own pedophile pornos, cheat in elections and don't do nothin' good for nobody? Why???

*Want to have some fun? Ask a Republican Lawmaker or SCOTUS FUCKUP about their "family movies." You are going to hate how much you love it. Let's just say the Pubs like their burgers a little on the undercooked side...

[thenexusofsouls]

(Omg omg omg Silence Silence Silence I’ve had an idea… What if… after Nuada met Mantis, freed her from some rando who held her captive in the Market, and told her about his people’s situation… she offered to take them to Knowhere? Clearly they can no longer live on Earth and the Guardians are still trying to turn Knowhere into a home, so maybe Mantis could grow forests for them or something. But if you feel like it’s too ooc for Nuada to make that choice, then please ignore this!)

“Come to Knowhere.” That was what Mantis told Nuada after their conversation on Earth. “There is enough space in the ship for your people. If… If you can try to put your hatred for humans aside and co-exist with a half-human, then we will welcome you. All of you. Prince, your people need help. You told me so.” Mantis stepped closer, hope in her voice and her gaze. “We intend to turn Knowhere into a haven. And your people are in need of one. I know there is revenge in your heart, but there is also love for your people. You’ve told me you want to wake the Golden Army and erase humans, but… is saving your people not more important?”

Now, a few weeks later, Mantis was tucking a drunk Quill in bed after using her powers to pull him out of another emotionally complicated episode. He was struggling to process the loss of Gamora, just like the other Guardians, and Mantis did not blame him for it. At least, she thought, he now knew that Mantis was his sister; she came out of the Celestial closet. Using her powers to make Quill sleep, Mantis kissed his cheek and whispered a little ‘I love you, brother’ before leaving his apartment.

Outside, after briefly glancing up at the stars, Mantis was startled by two golden eyes, but soon she realized who it was. “Prince,” she said with a respectful nod. Nevertheless, his presence was always a little intimidating. He didn’t look happy. Mantis knew. Living in a giant, severed head floating in space was probably not what Nuada or his people had in mind, but… they were dying on Earth. “How are they?” Mantis asked, referring to the elves, lifting a hand to touch the flower brooch that the bark children gave her. It was now in her hair, matching the mint-colored strands. “Are they adjusting well? Do you require something from me?”

__________

{ OMG YES! I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH! Honestly, that’s a really good option for his people, and I think Nuada would ultimately go for it, for their sake. However, I could see him still not feeling good about it and continuing to be restless and angry himself. But I can work with this, this will be interesting! I’m going to name this verse “knowhere left to go” so we can find it easily. =) }

Nuada had considered Mantis’ offer for several days before acting upon it. No, considered was the wrong word. He agonized over it. Lost sleep. Paced. Skipped meals. It was not an easy decision to make, and even worse, it was not fully his decision. If his remaining people were to be moved quite literally to another world, it would have to be decreed by Balor himself. So, Nuada paid a visit to his aging father, but not for the reason he’d originally supposed he would. What he thought would be a tense meeting with an issued ultimatum to hand over his father’s piece of the Golden Crown was now a plea from a very conflicted yet humbled prodigal son for a fresh start.

“You expect us to abandoned our home for a place we know not where, beyond the stars, on the word of one we have not even met?”

“Our home is ruined, father. Dying. Look around you. It is decaying as we speak, and you along with it. This world is lost. Let us leave it for the humans to finish what they have started. Let them destroy themselves. We will make a new home elsewhere.”

“This... is our home. We have never had another.”

“And are you living in it? Or are you underground, hiding? Are you thriving, or existing? Home is within our hearts. It is found in each of us. We will carry it with us and begin anew. But we must survive to do that. You would have us remain here, in darkness and confinement. You would have us lay down and accept death.” Nuada turned to address what was left of his father’s court. “I would see us begin again in a place where we could rebuild our race, free of the humans’ destructive influence.”

Nuada was prepared to oppose his father, to give the rest of his people the same ultimatum - stay here and die, or come with me and make a new start - and let each of them make their own choice. Balor decided it was for the best, however, much to Nuada’s surprise. Very quickly, arrangements were made to move the whole of his race, only a couple hundred people for that was all who remained, to this strange floating head in space called Knowhere.

Never had a decision been so emotional for Nuada. Not even deciding to exile himself had been as painful. He mourned for Earth, for the once-green hills and forests of Éire, and everything and everyone that had been lost to the humans’ destructive, gluttonous, decadent, self-serving ways. It hurt, to have to flee like this, but fleeing would lead to a better future than atrophying and dying in hiding on Earth.

He had seen more smiles and life in the eyes of his people in the weeks following their transplant to Knowhere than he had in hundreds of years prior. Truly happy for them, he watched as that spark that had been stolen from the once-proud race of Sun Elves was slowly reignited. But his own heart remained restless. He decided to visit Mantis, to whom his people owed so much. The environments she had helped create for them were only a start, but it was a start they never could have had on Earth. He was grateful to her. And yet... 

“They are very well, thank you,” he said. “They are adjusting better and more quickly than I thought possible. I owe you a great deal, and that is a debt I may never be able to repay for all its enormity,” he said sincerely, but when asked if there was something he needed from her, his gaze fell. A small huff escaped him, but it was only a side effect of his pride taking a hit, for what he needed to ask was embarrassing and shameful. “I cannot stop thinking about them. The humans. They do not deserve to escape justice for what they have done to my people and so many others. They should be punished for what they have done to the Earth, the irrevocable damage they have caused with their appetites, their carelessness, and their greed.” His fists clenched tightly as he spoke. “But... they are behind us now. We have begun anew. I wish to enjoy this new start with my people... and I cannot... because my heart will not be quieted no matter what I do.” His gaze fell a bit lower. “Is there... anything you could do... to help me quiet this rage I carry?”

[hellsitesonlybookclub]

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Chapter XVII

The being finished speaking, and fixed his looks upon me in expectation of a reply. But I was bewildered, perplexed, and unable to arrange my ideas sufficiently to understand the full extent of his proposition. He continued—

"You must create a female for me, with whom I can live in the interchange of those sympathies necessary for my being. This you alone can do; and I demand it of you as a right which you must not refuse to concede."

The latter part of his tale had kindled anew in me the anger that had died away while he narrated his peaceful life among the cottagers, and, as he said this, I could no longer suppress the rage that burned within me.

"I do refuse it," I replied; "and no torture shall ever extort a consent from me. You may render me the most miserable of men, but you shall never make me base in my own eyes. Shall I create another like yourself, whose joint wickedness might desolate the world. Begone! I have answered you; you may torture me, but I will never consent."

"You are in the wrong," replied the fiend; "and, instead of threatening, I am content to reason with you. I am malicious because I am miserable. Am I not shunned and hated by all mankind? You, my creator, would tear me to pieces, and triumph; remember that, and tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me? You would not call it murder, if you could precipitate me into one of those ice-rifts, and destroy my frame, the work of your own hands. Shall I respect man, when he contemns me? Let him live with me in the interchange of kindness; and, instead of injury, I would bestow every benefit upon him with tears of gratitude at his acceptance. But that cannot be; the human senses are insurmountable barriers to our union. Yet mine shall not be the submission of abject slavery. I will revenge my injuries: if I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear; and chiefly towards you my arch-enemy, because my creator, do I swear inextinguishable hatred. Have a care: I will work at your destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart, so that you shall curse the hour of your birth."

A fiendish rage animated him as he said this; his face was wrinkled into contortions too horrible for human eyes to behold; but presently he calmed himself and proceeded—

"I intended to reason. This passion is detrimental to me; for you do not reflect that you are the cause of its excess. If any being felt emotions of benevolence towards me, I should return them an hundred and an hundred fold; for that one creature's sake, I would make peace with the whole kind! But I now indulge in dreams of bliss that cannot be realised. What I ask of you is reasonable and moderate; I demand a creature of another sex, but as hideous as myself; the gratification is small, but it is all that I can receive, and it shall content me. It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another. Our lives will not be happy, but they will be harmless, and free from the misery I now feel. Oh! my creator, make me happy; let me feel gratitude towards you for one benefit! Let me see that I excite the sympathy of some existing thing; do not deny me my request!"

I was moved. I shuddered when I thought of the possible consequences of my consent; but I felt that there was some justice in his argument. His tale, and the feelings he now expressed, proved him to be a creature of fine sensations; and did I not as his maker, owe him all the portion of happiness that it was in my power to bestow? He saw my change of feeling, and continued—

"If you consent, neither you nor any other human being shall ever see us again: I will go to the vast wilds of South America. My food is not that of man; I do not destroy the lamb and the kid to glut my appetite; acorns and berries afford me sufficient nourishment. My companion will be of the same nature as myself, and will be content with the same fare. We shall make our bed of dried leaves; the sun will shine on us as on man, and will ripen our food. The picture I present to you is peaceful and human, and you must feel that you could deny it only in the wantonness of power and cruelty. Pitiless as you have been towards me, I now see compassion in your eyes; let me seize the favourable moment, and persuade you to promise what I so ardently desire."

"You propose," replied I, "to fly from the habitations of man, to dwell in those wilds where the beasts of the field will be your only companions. How can you, who long for the love and sympathy of man, persevere in this exile? You will return, and again seek their kindness, and you will meet with their detestation; your evil passions will be renewed, and you will then have a companion to aid you in the task of destruction. This may not be: cease to argue the point, for I cannot consent."

"How inconstant are your feelings! but a moment ago you were moved by my representations, and why do you again harden yourself to my complaints? I swear to you, by the earth which I inhabit, and by you that made me, that, with the companion you bestow, I will quit the neighbourhood of man, and dwell as it may chance, in the most savage of places. My evil passions will have fled, for I shall meet with sympathy! my life will flow quietly away, and, in my dying moments, I shall not curse my maker."

His words had a strange effect upon me. I compassionated him, and sometimes felt a wish to console him; but when I looked upon him, when I saw the filthy mass that moved and talked, my heart sickened, and my feelings were altered to those of horror and hatred. I tried to stifle these sensations; I thought, that as I could not sympathise with him, I had no right to withhold from him the small portion of happiness which was yet in my power to bestow.

"You swear," I said, "to be harmless; but have you not already shown a degree of malice that should reasonably make me distrust you? May not even this be a feint that will increase your triumph by affording a wider scope for your revenge."

"How is this? I must not be trifled with: and I demand an answer. If I have no ties and no affections, hatred and vice must be my portion; the love of another will destroy the cause of my crimes, and I shall become a thing, of whose existence every one will be ignorant. My vices are the children of a forced solitude that I abhor; and my virtues will necessarily arise when I live in communion with an equal. I shall feel the affections of a sensitive being, and become linked to the chain of existence and events, from which I am now excluded."

I paused some time to reflect on all he had related, and the various arguments which he had employed. I thought of the promise of virtues which he had displayed on the opening of his existence, and the subsequent blight of all kindly feeling by the loathing and scorn which his protectors had manifested towards him. His power and threats were not omitted in my calculations: a creature who could exist in the ice-caves of the glaciers, and hide himself from pursuit among the ridges of inaccessible precipices, was a being possessing faculties it would be vain to cope with. After a long pause of reflection, I concluded that the justice due both to him and my fellow-creatures demanded of me that I should comply with his request. Turning to him, therefore, I said—

"I consent to your demand, on your solemn oath to quit Europe for ever, and every other place in the neighbourhood of man, as soon as I shall deliver into your hands a female who will accompany you in your exile."

"I swear," he cried, "by the sun, and by the blue sky of Heaven, and by the fire of love that burns my heart, that if you grant my prayer, while they exist you shall never behold me again. Depart to your home, and commence your labours: I shall watch their progress with unutterable anxiety; and fear not but that when you are ready I shall appear."

Saying this, he suddenly quitted me, fearful, perhaps, of any change in my sentiments. I saw him descend the mountain with greater speed than the flight of an eagle, and quickly lost among the undulations of the sea of ice.

His tale had occupied the whole day; and the sun was upon the verge of the horizon when he departed. I knew that I ought to hasten my descent towards the valley, as I should soon be encompassed in darkness; but my heart was heavy, and my steps slow. The labour of winding among the little paths of the mountains, and fixing my feet firmly as I advanced, perplexed me, occupied as I was by the emotions which the occurrences of the day had produced. Night was far advanced, when I came to the half-way resting-place, and seated myself beside the fountain. The stars shone at intervals, as the clouds passed from over them; the dark pines rose before me, and every here and there a broken tree lay on the ground: it was a scene of wonderful solemnity, and stirred strange thoughts within me. I wept bitterly; and clasping my hands in agony, I exclaimed, "Oh! stars and clouds, and winds, ye are all about to mock me: if ye really pity me, crush sensation and memory; let me become as nought; but if not, depart, depart, and leave me in darkness."

These were wild and miserable thoughts; but I cannot describe to you how the eternal twinkling of the stars weighed upon me, and how I listened to every blast of wind, as if it were a dull ugly siroc on its way to consume me.

Morning dawned before I arrived at the village of Chamounix; I took no rest, but returned immediately to Geneva. Even in my own heart I could give no expression to my sensations—they weighed on me with a mountain's weight, and their excess destroyed my agony beneath them. Thus I returned home, and entering the house, presented myself to the family. My haggard and wild appearance awoke intense alarm; but I answered no question, scarcely did I speak. I felt as if I were placed under a ban—as if I had no right to claim their sympathies—as if never more might I enjoy companionship with them. Yet even thus I loved them to adoration; and to save them, I resolved to dedicate myself to my most abhorred task. The prospect of such an occupation made every other circumstance of existence pass before me like a dream; and that thought only had to me the reality of life.

[lrissa]

You’re Easier To Kick When You’re Kneeling.

summary: you and eren were both titan shifters, getting your ass beat in the court room by humanity’s strongest

warnings: violence, swearing,

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

“Good luck!”

Where the last words Hanji spoke before shoving you and Eren into the court room. Tension penetrated the air as the Survey Corps gave hard glares to the Military Police.

Spinning around you saw everyone looking to you and Eren. Embarrassment and fear crawled through your nerves, gazing to Eren as he looked just as afraid.

“I’m scared..” You whispered to the brunette, he turned to look down at your lightly shaking physique.

“We’ll be fine.” He gave you a small smile, his eyes creased softly, he wished he could reach out and pat you on the shoulder.

Straining yours eyes forwards you bit down your tongue readying yourself mentally. You noticed two long metal pillars beside eachother, gulping.

“Step forward.” An office spoke as he shoved the barrel of a gun into Erens back. Urging him forwards forcefully, quickly you walked to catch up with him.

Two officers pushed you and Eren apart. Snapping your head to the brunette, he nodded his head to you calmly, his eyes gave you comfort as the man shoved you to your knees infront of the pole.

Together the men picked up the metal and ordered you to place your hands stretched behind you, doing so they let the pole fall back into place. Having you directly connected to the pole and squatted down.

You hung your head low as the hair on your shoulders fell forwards to conceal your face. Your eyes had dilated and your body shook. Fear. Worry. Anxiety.

A door opened followed by footsteps and a chair scraping across the stone as someone seated themselves. The judge.

“Well then, let us begin. Eren Jaeger and Y/N L/N, yes?” He’d adjust his glasses and stare at the small paper in his fingers before continuing. “You are soldiers, sworn to sacrifice your life for the public good. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Eren answered as he stared bug-eyed at the judge, “Yes, sir.” You repeated after Eren and tilted your head up.

“This is an exceptional situation. The tribunal will be held under military, not civilian, law. The final decision rests entirely in my hands.” The white haired man looked from the paper to us, “Your fate will be decided here. Do you have any objections.”

Looking to the floor you squeezed your eyes shut momentarily, opening them wide again. “No, sir.” You and Eren spoke simultaneously.

“I appreciate your perception. I will be direct. As anticipated, concealing your existence has proved impossible. We must make your existing public in some form, or a threat to humanity other than titans will arise. What I will decide today is which force will have custody of you.”

“The Military Police,”

“Or the Survey Corps?”

“Then, I ask the Military Police for their proposal.”

Your head shifted to the Military Police, watching as a man readied himself before speaking vibrantly.

“Yes, sir, I am Commander of the Military Police, Nile Dawk, I will present my proposal. After a thorough investigation of Eren and Y/N’s body, we believe they should be eliminated immediately.”

Your eyes expanded as he said this. This man hardly knew either of you, not a single fucking thing. Your eyebrows furrowed into a scowl while your hands contoured into fists.

“It’s certainly true that their titan power overcame our pervious peril. However, now their existence threatens to spark a civil war. So we ask them to die for humanity’s sake, leaving behind all information they can.” He finished

Your stomach churned as he spoke, did everyone seriously wish you dead?

“There is no need for that! They are an invasive pest! They have deceived the walls that embody Gods wisdom! They must be killed at once!” A preist yelled at the top of his lungs as he pointed to us with crazed eyes. Freak.

“Preist Nick. Order, please.” The judge calmly stated before shifting his attention to the right side.

“We’ll hear the Survey Corps’s proposal next.”

“Yes, sir. I, 13th Commander of the Survey Corps, Erwin Smith, will present my proposal. We would welcome Eren and Y/N as an official member of our forces, and use their power to retake Wall Maria... That is all.”

You stared at the Commander, that’s all. That’s all? Yours and Erens life were on the line and he couldn’t conjure up another defense statement.

“That’s all?” The judge questioned suspiciously.

“Yes, sir. With their power, we can retake Wall Maria. We believe it is clear what our priorities should be.”

“I see. And where do you plan to begin this mission”The judge stated, “Pixis, the Trost wall has been completely sealed, correct?” He added.

“Yes, it can never be opened again.” A bald man retorted.

“We would like to set out from Karanes, in the east. From there, we will proceed to Zhiganshina. We will determine the route as we go.” Erwin confidently spoke as he stared to the judge.

“Wait a minute!” shouted a man, whipping your head over, “Shouldn’t we seal all the wall gates once and for all? The Colossal Titan can only destroy the gates. If we can strengthen them, we needn’t endure further attacks!” His planned seemed smart but there where missing pieces and it would most likely be difficult to achieve.

“Shut up, merchant dog!”

“With those titan powers we can return to Wall Maria!”

“We can no longer indulge your delusions of grandeur!”

Argued two men as they yelled at one another from across the room, ‘So annoying’ you thought.

“You talk a lot, pig.” A dark voice rung throughout the court, turning your head up you spotted Levi. Behind his tough physique he was actually a bit funny.

“Where is your proof?” Levi continued, “that the titans will wait while we seal the gates? The ‘we’ you speak of are only those you wish to protect, your ‘friends’ who help line your pockets. The people who starve because there isn’t enough land to sow don’t even figure into the thoughts of you pig.” Levi finished as you stared at him with wide eyes, was he seriously protecting you from the Military Police?

“We just thought that we could survive by sealing the wall gates—“ The merchant began, “Silence!” Yelled the priest beside him as he slammed his hand on the railing, nearing the mans eyes. “Impious traitor! Mere humans altering Wall Rose, walls that were a gift from God? Can you truly see those walls? Gods work far beyond human capabilities, and not understand?”

The rest of his words drowned out as your mind took hold, thoughts of the future plundered your head as you squeezed your eyes shut.

The judges taps of his desk brought you back to reality and you snapped your head up, “Silence. You may discuss your personal philosophies and opinions elsewhere.”

“Jaeger, L/N. Can you continue to serve as a soldier, using your titan powers to benefit humanity?”

“Yes, I can!” Eren spoke clearly, the judges cold gaze shifting to you, “Yes, sir.”

“But the report on Trost’s defense says this... ‘Immediately after turning into a titan, Eren swung his fist at Mikasa Ackerman.’” You sucked in a breath and looked to Eren, his eyes extended as he looked to Mikasa. Of course, he doesn’t remember.

“Is Mikasa Ackerman present?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“You are Ackerman? Is it true that, as a titan, Jaeger attacked you?” The old man questioned her.

You sighed softly, ‘As if he can control it yet’ you thought angrily in your mind.

“Yes, its true.”

Gasps of terror rung throughout the court, all eyes falling on Eren in a deathly glare.

“I knew it... He’s just another titan.”

“What about the girl!” Another protested as your head whipped to them, sending a glare to them.

“But, on two previous occasions, Eren saved my life in his titan form. The first time, mere seconds before a titan would have had me in its grasp, he stood between us, protecting me. The second time, he saved Armin and me from an HE shell. I would like these facts to be considered aswell.”

“I object,”

“I believe these comments are greatly colored by her personal feelings. At an early age, Mikasa Ackerman lost her parents and was taken in by the Jaeger household.” Well haven’t you done your homework, you pondered with a small frown.

“Our investigation had also revealed a surprising fact about the underlying events. At age nine, Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman killed three robbers who tried to kidnap her.”

More gasps could be heard as the news entered their ears, you shook your head. ‘What stupid fucking evidence to have, like they had a choice’ you considered furiously in your mind.

“Even if it was self defense, I must question their fundamental humanity. Is it right to entrust humanity’s fate, resources, and lives to him?”

Whispering and arguing broke out between the different sides, turning their heads to their fellow comrades to spew hatred. What a loss. Losing to this mans ugly mouth. You hung your head and sighed quietly.

“So is she. Do we know if we can trust her!” Referring to you as he pointed. “That’s right! Just to be safe we should dissect her too!” He looked to Mikasa next.

“Wait!” Yelled Eren and looked up to the man, “I may be a monster, but they have nothing to do with it! Nothing at all!” Eren defended as you watched, his spit flying from his mouth as he spoke from his soul. Your heart clenching in pitifulness as you frowned sadly.

“We can’t trust that!”

“It’s true!”

“If you’re covering for them, it means they’re one of you!”

“No!” He screamed and slammed his handcuffs against the metal pole, looking down in defeat, “I mean, you are wrong. But you’re simply coming up with theories that fit, whatever it suits you to fit.”

“Eren..” You said softly as you stared at him, your eyes in pain for him. He was so much braver than you and it gave you courage to see him so persistent.

Looking up you began to speak, “Besides, all of you people. You’ve never seen a titan! What are you so afraid of? What is your point if you do not have the power to fight? If you’re afraid to fight for humanity’s survival then, help us!” Your voice getting increasingly louder as you glared at the pathetic people who called themselves the Military Police.

“Just shut up and trust us!” You yelled your last statement and looked up to the judge, your chest panting heavily as you meant every word.

“Weapons ready!” The Commander of the Military Police shouted while his cadet set his gun on the railing and pointed it to you.

Until your face snapped to the right and pain shot through your nerves, your vision blurred instantly. Metal was all you tasted. A tooth had even managed to fall from your mouth and rolled onto the ground. You blinked to dimish the haziness and looked to your striker.

Levi Ackerman

“Huh?—“

His steel pointed boot slammed across your face again. Your back slamming against the pole behind you. Blood trickled down your nose and down to your chin, dropping onto the floor. Your blood had even splattered small droplets along the stone flooring.

Levi grabbed your collar and shoved you forwards to him. The handcuffs clanging against the pole as Levi stared down at you, his frigid glare locking eyes with your beaten ones before slamming his knee into the side of your head, sending it flying.

Pain. So much pain. It was burning you alive from the inside as all you could do was endure it. Tch, this guy’s a dick.

“Y/N!” Eren screamed from the opposite end. Hatred and worry evident in his tone as he struggled against his own cuffs, “Stop it!” Eren attempted again as all he could do was watch his friend get beaten to the brink of death.

Levi continued to sock you with his boot, giving you zero remorse as he beat the girl below him. Mikasa glared and got ready to jump the railing before Armin held her back.

Blood streamed down your face, a large puddle had began to form under you. You gasped for air before Levi lifted his leg high and stomped down on your head into the puddle of your demise. Grimacing at the filth and pain, all you did was lay there. If someone wasn’t looking hard enough, they’d assume you were already dead.

Croaks of pain left your body as his boot remained on your head, struggling to breath as blood trickled down your nose and into your mouth, unintentionally swallowing.

“This is a personal opinion. But I believe pain to be the best way to train someone. What you need is to be trained like a dog, not a man.”

Your rigid breathes left your mouth as you stared straight at Eren, his eyes meeting yours as he seemed to become visibly furious. Bruised and cuts tracked your once pretty, soft skin. Blood now coating all the crevices in your face.

“It’s easier to kick you while you’re kneeling, too.”

Levi lifted his boot and slammed it into the side of your head once again, giving you no time to breathe he stomped it back onto the cold ground again. Repeating his tourtue when he kicked your head all over again.

Strangled breaths was all you could muster, along with the rattling of the handcuffs as you were thrown around like trash, filling the silence of the fearful court room.

Kick. Kick, Kick.

All anyone could do was watch your doom, “Wait, Levi...”

Your head was pushed against the pole with his boot flat on your face as he turned his head to the one speaking, “What is it?”

His boot fell from your face as you hunched forwards, croaking as you gasped for air, blood trickling down the sides of your mouth.

“That’s dangerous... What if she gets angry and turns into a titan?”

You slowly tilted your head up to Levi, hair falling away from your face and resting on your shoulders. The raven head stared at you for a moment, then shoved his boot back onto your face and slamming it against the pole.

“What are you saying?” Levi dropped his leg again and gripped a fistful your hair, violently pulling you to his face as your eyes struggled to remain open from extreme bruising.

“Aren’t you going to dissect her?” He dropped your hair and stood straight, peering down to your defeated and beaten figure.

“When she turned into a titan last time, she killed twenty other titans before collapsing. If she is an enemy, her intelligence makes her a more formidable foe. Still no match for me, of course.”

Levi gazed to the Military Police, “But what will you do? Anyone persecuting her should also consider that fact. Do you really think you can kill her?” Levi spoke cooly as he stood infront of you, staring you down.

From afar you heard others speak, but your heartbeat clogged your ears as it deafened any other noise. Staring at Levi’s boots infront of you, you noted your blood coating the bottom before gently shutting your eyelids.

You could only hear Levi as he spoke from ahead of you, “I’m certain I can kill her. The only problem is I doubt I can do any less.” Levi proposed.

Hearing the pound of the desk above you, the judge made his decision. But you’d never make out what he proposed.

Footsteps stepped back from ahead of you as new ones came from behind you, uncuffing you and lifting the pole.

You tumbled forwards onto the unwelcoming ground, cautiously opening your eyes to the glaring sunlight that entered through the windows.

Eren ran to you, crouching down infront of you as you saw him shout words at you. He picked your head up in his hands and cradled you in his lap, checking for your pulse.

Your eyes began to shut again, your head lulling to the side to spot the raven head. Levi stared at you from afar, his arms crossed over his chest. The last thing you saw was the ravens dark gaze before your eyes rolled and all you saw was darkness.

be real, we all wish we were the ones being kicked

[ahsxual]

Save Me

Pairing: Detective David Loki x Reader

Summary: You and David have been together for a few months now. You knew his job was exhausting and obscure, but lately he had been spending less time with you and being more distant, until something he wasn't expecting happens...

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, lots of swearing, children kidnap (since it's based on the movie)

Word Count: 4,1k

A/N: This one is dark!!! I'm so happy for finally writing a fic about Detective Loki, my sweet and handsome savior <33 I personally think that this piece is really cute and romantic, yet terrifying... Sooo, I hope you enjoy it! ^-^

You had no idea of what was happening... You didn't know why the love of your life has been so distant lately, and acting so weird every time he was around you... Had you done something wrong? Didn't he love you anymore??, you asked the same torturing questions to yourself every day, non-stop.

You were currently drinking a hot cup of cappuccino under five, comfortable, warm blankets while watching your favorite series, since it was really cold outside and you were by yourself. It was the middle of winter, so whenever you looked outside the window, all you could see was bright, comforting and gorgeous shades of white of sweet snow. Winter used to comfort you in a way no other season did: on those freezing days, you were able to spend all day in bed with David, warming each other's bodies in your tight embraces, and making love until you started feeling so hot that it seemed like summer had already arrived. But this time, you didn't feel any of that: you painfully missed your boyfriend. You missed your moments together, the sweet, yet rare laughs that managed to come out of his well-defined lips, knowing you were the only one that could achieve them... and that's why you were so special to him, because you were the only woman and person in this world who was able to make him feel truly happy, loved and accepted. Before you started dating, he was so worried that you would leave him sooner than later, or that anything bad would happen to you if he let you enter in his life so deeply... and he was also terrified of falling in love with you, because then it would too late for him to turn back.

It was already 1 am, and you had no messages, calls or even a sign that he was still alive.This was pure torture. You were trying to hold your tears back so hard, not wanting to feel weak once you let them fall, but it was inevitable for carrying so much suffering and not letting even a gasp out of your lonely and unloved body... at least that's how you felt. When you were about to turn off the lights to get ready to sleep, so you could refresh your mind and relax a little bit, you suddenly heard your front door being calmly knocked. It was strange since David would always use his keys to enter your house, but you had been missing him way too much to think properly, so without thinking twice, you got out of bed and ran as quickly as you could to open the door for him... or at least that's what you wished.

"David!" you instantly called your lover's name, not having time to react once you realized it wasn't him.

"Sorry honey, David is not coming soon." with a maniac grin planted on his creepy face. That was all the stranger said before you felt a strong knock on your head, making you instantly fall unconscious.

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A few hours passed when you were finally able to open your eyes. Your entire body was sore and shaking from the freezing weather, and you could feel your own blood dripping down your forehead where the agressor had beaten you; your arms and legs were tightly tied with some cheap rope, and the only thing you were sure about was that you were inside someone else’s house.

"Where the fuck am I?! GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW!" you screamed as loud as you could, hoping that someone would check up on you, so you could at least recognize the person who abducted you. You then heard excited whispers from a man saying: "She's awake!!", and you couldn't help yourself, but to feel disgusted and utterly scared of what could happen...

"Well, well, the sleeping beauty has already come to her senses!" an old woman entered the barely lit room you were currently being kept hostage, and you didn't hesitate to express your confusion.

"What the... who are you? Where the hell is your ass-hatted companion?" you blantantly asked, referring to the man who you saw previously at your front door. Out of the sudden, you felt a hard slap on your face, leaving a red mark behind.

"Fuck you, you crazy bitch!" you screamed at her, feeling a burning and painful sensation on your left cheek, spreading slowly all over your face.

"Watch your mouth, girl! Only because you're detective's whore doesn't mean you can say whatever you want! Here and now you will respect and obey me, until your sweet, handsome boyfriend comes find you. Then, I'll torture and kill him right in front of you... I mean, that is if he notices your absence at all." she started to laugh exaggeratedly at your face, her words hurting and cutting deeper than a sharpened kitchen knife. You turned your face away from the crazy lady, trying to cover your suffering and heavy tears from her... but it was useless.

"Aww, did I hit a soft spot, honey?" she pretended to be worried about you, moving closer to you and hunching over next to you, making you find the perfect opportunity to spit right onto her maniacal face. "Ughh, you fucking bi-"

"Wait!" the stranger who seemed to be the one who abducted you, interrupted her. You both looked at him confused, not understanding why he stopped her from beating you.

"Let me do it. I want to beat that fuck-head's girlfriend." the abductor approached you slowly, rolling up his sleeves excitedly before you felt the first punch of many on that night.

"Good job, boy. Entertain yourself while the detective wastes his precious time looking for that bitch instead of the kids." the psychotic woman said, casually, like what she just said wasn't an devilish plan at all. She must be so used to do this... poor children... if only I could save them like David does..., you devastatingly thought to yourself.

"How can you hurt the poor childrens who are so innocent compared to your disturbed mind?! How can you get pleasure out of it, you sick BASTARD?!!" you screamed with all the strenght you had in your throat and lungs. Oh, how you wished to kill those two pieces of trash with your own hands...

"You don't understand..." the man tried to excuse himself from the horrifying crimes he enjoyed so much to commit.

"OF COURSE I DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND, AND I NEVER WILL!! THEY ARE JUST CHILDREN, FOR FUCK SAKE!!" your lungs were burning by now, and your stinging tears were uncontrollably running down your beaten and sore bruised cheeks.

"Let her spill all that anger out of her chest, honey. We don't want her to get exhausted already." she smirked wickedly at you. "She will be our guest for a long time..."

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

Two days had passed, and you were still in that dark, small torture room that was once just a casual room. They barely fed you and offered you water to drink, causing your lips and mouth to be tremendously dry. Your face was covered in bruises and cuts, some deeper than others, yet they all bled and hurt like hell. You had lost track of how much time had passed that night. All you knew, was that you were suddenly awaken by a strong, yellow light and some little girl's deafening screams and pleading cries.

"Please, let me go!!" the poor young girl pleaded, yet no pleads of her were enough to stop the devil himself, also known as the owner of the house you were currently on.

"I brought you company!" she then carelessly pushed the little girl to the rigid ground. "Seems like your boyfriend is getting suspicious, so while I distract him, you two will remain shut before I kill you all. He’ll be the first one to go, surely." she smiled once again, before closing the door harshly. David is here?

The innocent girl cried harder when she heard the door being closed roughly, and since you didn't want anything bad to happen to both of you or to your boyfriend, you did your best to calm her down.

"It's ok sweetheart, I'm here with you now, you don't have to feel alone anymore. I promise I won't let anything bad to happen to you from now on, ok?" you sounded like your boyfriend and that thought made you smile weakly for an instant. The girl was still absurdly scared, all her trust and hope in human kind being completely destroyed by the terror she had been through at such a young age, which was totally understandable. She stepped back away from you when you tried to reach for her small and fragile hand, since you had managed to get your hands free by patiently untying the tight ropes like David had taught you. It was a technique you used in emergency situations, and this was one of them. He always prepared you for the worse, teaching you everything he had learned, so you could save yourself when he's not capable and things like this would eventually happen. You immediately withdrew your hand by instinct, but you weren't one to give up so easily.

"Can you... can you tell me your name..?" come one Y/n, you can do better than this. "I'm very hurt too... you see? So my only intention here is to get both of us out of here... she is a very bad woman, but I am not. You know, I'm detective's girlfriend who is looking for you since... the beginning. And your father is helping him! They are our saviors, so they will rescue us from this ugly place very soon." you kindly explained to her, trying to give her some faith and remind her of her family... remind her that this wasn't her reality. The world out there, united with her family and friends, is where she truly belongs. She looked at you intensely, and you could finally see some light of hope in those big, gorgeous eyes. Once again, you remembered your stunning lover and the loving stares he would give you all the time, the ones that never failed to give you goosebumps all over your skin.

"Is... is my father looking for me..?" she finally spoke to you. If you didn't know it was coming from her, you could swear that her voice belonged to an angel because of its sweetness and innocence. You almost let heartbreaking tears escape your tired eyes... but you had to remain strong for her.

"Of course, darling. He loves you so, so much, and he would never forget or give up on you." for the thousandth time, you remembered your sweet and lovely boyfriend again, and on how you deeply craved to hear those reassuring words come out of his mouth, instead. A moment of silence was installed for a few seconds, before she decided that trusting you should be probably the best, yet the only option available.

"I'm... I'm Anna by the way..." she whispered shyly, or should I say still afraid and suspicious. You then offered her the most gentle smile you could give in response.

"You have such a beautiful name, Anna. I'm Y/n, and I'm so glad to meet you. Of course I would prefer to meet you in any other circumstances, but..." you needed to change the subject urgently: she was just a child, so she wouldn't get your sarcastic comment like others would. "What about we all get a delicious ice-cream once we get back home, huh? You, your family, me and... my... boyfriend." you hesitate a little bit, still hurt because of your boyfriend’s behavior in the last few weeks. Why was he taking so long to save us?

"Yummy, ice-cream!" she said excitedly, yet you could notice how tired she still was.

Tired of waiting, you finally decided to use the technique you had learned that previously had helped your hand's blood flow properly in your veins, by successfully untying the ropes out of her sore wrists. The poor kid's hands must be so badly hurt as well...

"Come here, sweetie." you untied the old ropes that were restraining your leg's movements in case someone came in unexpectadly, that way you could defend you both. You then helped her by untying her own ropes and when you did, you suddenly heard a gun shot.

Anna started to scream while covering her ears, and you instinctively pulled her near you to protect her from the horrors outside. Out of nowhere, the door was abruptly opened and the old lady came up being extremely stressed. Your first instinct was thinking that Loki had been shot by her, so all your courage and hope had vanished in a single second.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!!!" you shouted at her and ran in her direction to beat her up as hard as you could without fearing the consequences, when suddenly you felt a hard sting in your arm: she pricked you with a needle that contained a drug that causes a person to have a heart attack in the next few hours or even minutes, if they aren't correctly treated urgently.

"Goddammit!" you then felt extremely dizzy and fell to the ground. The last thing you saw before falling unconscious, was David entering the room and putting the evil woman on the ground, trying to arrest her with any gentle manners, before she managed to pull a gun from her pocket and shoot herself, and Anna's screams for your name... however, you were too nauseaus to distinguish if all of that was really happening, or if it was just a hopeful hallucination of yours.

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

"Y/N!! Please baby, don't you dare to die on me... please wake up... FUCK!" David was starting to be quickly consumed by pure despair, shaking you to no end, hoping you would open your eyes in his arms and return to him, safe and sound: he had finally found you and Anna after spending the worst week of his life, but even then he still couldn't feel utterly relieved. He then grabbed the two of you carefully, and drove you to the nearest hospital.

"Please Y/n, stay with me, do you hear me?! I will not let you leave me that easily... please honey..." he was talking more to himself since you couldn't respond, and his distressed tears were difficulting his vision and eventually his driving, which wasn't a good thing at all.

"Don't worry detective, she will be fine... your girlfriend is a really strong woman." the young girl tried to calm the desperate and protective boyfriend, just like you did with her a few minutes ago, and he couldn't help but feel so proud of you, yet guilty for being so focused on work lately, instead of giving you the attention you so dearly deserved from him...

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Hours passed and you were still in the hospital, unconscious. Loki didn't know what to do to himself... he wanted to punch himself so hard for letting this happen to you. And if there was a possibility that you could switch roles, you would have been awake a long time ago.

This was his worst nightmare, to let his work interfere with your relationship in the worst way possible. He didn't want to leave your side for anything: even with the doctors insistence, he threatened to arrest them all if they didn't let him be with you until you woke up, and believe me when I say he was pretty convincing. His strong, tattooed arms were supporting his heavy, anxious and furious mind on top of his legs, they had been shaking for hours now, non-stop. He felt so, so guilty, and he didn't think he could ever forgive himself for almost losing the love of his life because of his negligence... and, on top of that, knowing that he was so distant and careless with you in your probable last days. Out of nowhere, he heard a muffled sound of pain, making him instantly look up at you and ran to your side. His heartbeat increased at a speed which he didn't think it was even possible for a single human being to handle without having a stroke right then and there.

"Honey..?" he called for you, his eyes inevitably watering for the hundredth time that night. You never saw him crying before, so it surprised you to see his eyes glistening. You struggled to keep your eyes opened, because of the strong light that illuminated your hospital room, but when your vision finally adjusted itself and you looked at him for the first time in the last few days, it was like you were seeing God himself.

"Is this heaven..?" you asked confused, making him laugh softly. Only you could rip a smile from him in such a bad situation like this one.

"No honey, this is pure reality. You are at the hospital, but I'm here with you now." he firmly grabbed your fragile and bruised hands into his much bigger ones, and looked at you like you were about to get married.

"Are you... crying?" you asked, feeling worried when you noticed, once again, his eyes being much brighter because of the fresh tears that wanted so badly to come out. He immediately wiped them away with the back of his hand, making you laugh. Your man never liked to show his emotions to anyone, not even to you. Well, at least he tried his best not to show them to you.

"Just got uh.. something inside my eye..." he tried to find a valid excuse, but since you knew him too well, he ended up giving up. He then offered you the most reassuring smile at you, only for you to gladly return it. However, his smile didn't last too long once he realized the severity of your state, it started disappearing slowly while his hands grabbed yours even harder this time, his eyes never leaving yours while analyzing your face so carefully.

"Oh God... what did I do to you..." this time, he wasn't able to contain himself, yet he didn't care anymore to show you how hurt he really was. It was too much guilt for just one man to carry on his shoulders and heart, no matter how strong he was.

"Don't." you immediately exclaimed and he looked at you curiously. "What happened was not your fault, do you understand me? It could happen to anyone."

"No! " he exclaimed. "If I was there with you instead of wear out my mind with this fucking case..."

"Baby, stop. It's your job and you saved that innocent girl. If it weren’t for you, she could have been dead by now." your tone was serious, and he understood that you were the only thing trying to make him not be so hard on himself.

"But..."

"No "but's", David. You are our savior. And I couldn't be prouder of you..." you smiled at him, yet he didn't return it. An intense exchange of emotional glares, and a thoughtful, tense silence was planted for a few, long seconds.

"If... if we weren't together, nothing would have happened to you... I prefer to know that you're safe and healthy with another man, than..." he didn't have sure on what he was saying, it was too much to process... but there was one thing he was sure of: he wouldn't allow anything bad happen to you from then on.

"Don't you dare saying that again, David Loki. You are the man who I love with my whole being, more than anything, and I would give my own life to save you if it was the case. And I don't care how many times I have to be abducted to prove how much I want to be with you for the rest of my life." you never spoke so seriously in your life, and you genuinely meant every word you just said. You just couldn't live without him anymore.

"What the hell did I do to deserve you..?" he carefully approached you, giving you a slow, yet most passionate kiss you had shared in a long time, while soflty grabbing your head between his cold hands. His lips were dry, yet tasted like sweet honey, like they always did.

"Detective Loki- oh, I'm so sorry!" Anna's mother entered the room, feeling ashamed for interrupting your romantic moment.

"No problem, Miss Dover. Do you need something from me?" he seriously asked, getting immediately into the hardworking Detective Loki character.

"Actually, I wanted to thank you for all you did to-"

"Y/n!!" Anna ran towards you as soon as her eyes landed on your weak body. She hugged you carefully, so she wouldn't hurt you, and you instantly felt you heart melting inside your chest.

"Heyy Anna! I'm so happy to see again, my bravest girl!" she offered you a toothy grin, and you were mesmerized by the change of energy that you only knew from her back in that horror house. Both of her mother and your charming boyfriend looked at your and the girl's interaction, not expecting for you to become so close to each other.

"Can we go eat an ice-cream now, like you promised?? I'm so hungry!" she asked excitedly, her eyes filled of hope and joyful.

"She needs to rest, sweetie. Maybe another time. Anyway, thank you so much, detective, for finding my daughter." he nodded to her and then she looked at you with a kind smile in her face. "And thank you for protecting my daughter from those monsters, Y/n. I'll be eternally grateful for the two of you. I hope you get better soon." she thanked the two of you, before leaving the room with her daughter, to give you two some privacy.

"Bye Y/n!" the girl happily said goodbye to you.

"Bye sweetheart, see you soon!" you responded back, seeing her leaving the room right after her mom.

"She really likes you." your boyfriend said to you, wanting to make you feel better since he knew how overwhelming you felt everytime someone thanked you.

"Yeah, I guess..." you laughed. "She kept me company in there, you know? We helped each other so we didn't feel so lonely anymore..." you looked at your fingers while shyly playing with them, hoping that he would understand your attempts of silently saying how hurt you were. You then felt him coming in your direction and sitting right beside you.

"Sweetheart... I'm so, so sorry for letting you feel like you were alone... I was so stressed about work, and I didn't want to discharge everything on you..." he truly seemed regretful of his actions, so of course you would forgive him since he was such a honest man. But you needed to let him know how hurt you felt by his lack of attention and affection with you. "I love you so much, honey... I... I can't imagine my life without you anymore. I would be so lost..." his voice sounded extremely weak at his final words, since he tried to hold back his cry once again.

"I love you too, baby. So, so much..." you caressed his barely shaved cheek and kissed him softly on the lips. When you broke the kiss so you could stare at him properly, you hugely smiled at him out of nowhere.

"What?" he smiled back.

"Nothing. I was just thinking that maybe..."

"Maybe what?" he seemed really curious about what you were about to say. You continued to look at him while bitting your lower lip softly, wanting to see and memorize his reaction by what you were about to suggest.

"Maybe... we could have a baby of our own?" you calmly and very carefully said, not wanting to scare him away. His reaction was expressless, which scared you a little bit.

"Babe, I don't know... what if... what if something happens to our child?" he already started to worry and get stressed.

"You will never live your life if you keep thinking about the worst, on what could happen or not. Think more about you and your happiness... think more about us. With a baby in our arms." this time, his smile expanded until a big toothy grin was revealed on his gorgeous face.

"You're absolutely right. We definitely should have our own princess." he lovely glared at you, kissing your hands with the most gentle kiss he could afford.

"Or prince... Who knows."

[munsonboy]

Author’s note: I’ve been thinking about how Loki would act at a meet and greet, especially if he was a giant and what would happen if he met a tiny fan-...so here ya go!! Enjoy!😊

Oh! And before I forget to tell you all, this story is super long! I just couldn’t help myself ☺️

_______________________________________________

~“You’re a Fan of Mine?”~

The 2nd Annual Avengers Meet and Greet had started at last!

The team had decided to start this event when Thor and Loki returned to Earth after Asgard was destroyed. More specifically, it was for the sake of Loki’s reputation. He wasn’t popular whatsoever among the humans, especially not after the New York attack back in 2012, but Loki really was trying to become a better person. Didn’t anyone ever hear of the phrase ‘people change’?

Loki just didn’t see the need of being in a room full of tiny mortals to show that he had turned over a new leaf. That’s right. Tiny mortals.

His body grew in size, letting him stand at 90 feet tall. No one was sure why Loki had grown to be a giant, but Loki did. He believed it was because of Odin’s death. The spell that Odin had put on Loki centuries ago when he found him as a baby must have weakened. Loki had grown to the size he was meant to be as a Frost Giant. Since he was the rightful heir to the throne of Jotunheim, he surpassed the rest of the Jötuns’ height by miles.

A room designed and built was given to him in the Avengers Tower. It was a library fit for a giant-..well, fit for Loki, in this case. Book shelves covered the walls with novels that towered over humans, but fit perfectly in Loki’s grasp. He even had his own personal desk and, of course, a bed that was covered in silk green sheets. The meet and greets were always held in Loki’s room only because it was the biggest spot in the entire tower.

After the first successful year of meeting the team’s lovely fans, more and more people found out about it and showed up this year. It wasn’t successful for Loki, though. The previous year, Stark had all of the fans stay out in the common area. So it was up in the air for anyone to go see Loki. He stayed in his room the entire time, waiting to see if one brave soul would enter his bedroom and attempt to talk to him, but no one did. The whole point of the event was for Loki to talk with at least one person!

At the moment, Loki was sitting at his desk in his room, staring down at Tony Stark, who was decked out in friendship brackets and necklaces that the children had made him. Loki rolled his eyes just looking at how pathetic he looked.

The rest of the team was spread out throughout the whole room. Fans were practically everywhere. Most of the fans were little kids and teenagers. The simple sight of the younglings made Loki’s head spin. He was practically glued to his chair, not wanting to get up and accidentally hurt someone.

If Loki had to guess, he’d say there were about 300 kids there and still, not one of them came over to greet him.

“Stark, I really don’t see what all the fuss is about. I mean, what even is the purpose of this ‘Meet and Greet’ you speak of?”, questioned Loki.

“Quiet, reindeer games. You know why we started the meet and greet. Just smile and wave at everyone. Even if you don’t want to be nice, just fake it. And don’t purposefully scare the kids! I can’t deal with a parent scolding me about how a giant god with raven black rock n’ roll hair made their kid cry just by smirking at them. That was a nightmare last year”, said Tony rubbing his eyes.

Loki scoffed. “Well it wasn’t my fault the child walked into my chambers when I was reading. Who would interrupt someone during a Shakespeare reading session?” Tony laughed at how sarcastic Loki sounded. “That must have been a real good Shakespeare book if you brought the kid to tears. Let’s see-..was it Hamlet?”, asked Tony.

Loki grinned. “No, I read that last week. It was Coriolanus”, said Loki, chuckling, as he looked down at Tony, who started to join in on the laughter.

After the laughing died down, there was a pause between the two of them. “Obviously nobody was interested in meeting me anyways. Not one mortal came in here last year to talk with me”, said Loki sadly. He didn’t want to admit it, but Loki really wished that he had a fan. At this point, he didn’t even mind if his fan was a mortal. Loki wanted someone who admired him for who he was and the good that he has been doing with the rest of the Avengers. He didn’t want to be known as the Asgardian who tried to take over the world anymore. He wanted to be known as someone’s hero.

“Loki, listen to me. I bet you one of these kids are gonna come up to you and say hi”, said Tony with a reassuring smile on his face. Loki began to fiddle with his fingers, uncertain if he should believe the small human in front of him. “And what if one doesn’t? Then what am I left to do? Sulk around and remember that no one in this city likes me?”, he asked sounding even more sad than before.

Tony sighed. “Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. The event just started! Just be yourself, Loki. And I promise you that you’ll meet someone today”, he said. Loki was about to contradict what Stark had just said, but a group of kids that were standing on Loki’s bed started to chant the name, ‘Ironman’.

Loki and Tony looked over towards everyone. “Well, I guess I should get over there, huh?”, asked Tony. He looked up at Loki, who simply nodded at him and waved him off. Tony smiled and said, “I promise. This is the year you meet a fan of yours.” And with that, Tony walked over to the edge of the desk and tapped his arc reactor two times. He was wearing his suit in a matter of seconds thanks to the nano tech he had invented.

Loki watched as Tony flew over to all the kids, getting hugs from each and everyone one of them. ‘I need a miracle to get that kind of attention’, thought Loki to himself. He was back to square one. Loki was all alone again.

‘I knew this was a terrible idea’, thought Loki to himself as he watched the Avengers interacting with all of their fans. They all made it look so easy. ‘Why can’t one of these mortals at least say hi to me? It can’t be that hard’, thought Loki to himself.

Little did Loki know, a human girl named Y/n, who was around the age of fifteen, was watching him from afar on the large bed that was next to the desk that Loki sat at.

Rather than joining the other kids in awing at Ironman flying around, trying to learn fighting combinations from Natasha, or even learning how to properly hold a bow with the help of Clint, she was standing by herself, trying to muster up the courage to go over to Loki and talk to him.

She was a nervous wreck just thinking about what the conversation would be like. Instead of fiddling with her fingers like Loki was doing before, she clenched the hand-made plush of the God of Mischief she held in her shaky grasp. Y/n had decided to make it when she heard that the Avengers were doing a second meet and greet. Y/n finally had the opportunity to speak with Loki! She wanted to show him her gratitude for protecting New York with the Avengers and to tell him that he was her favorite amongst the group. So, what better gift to give Loki than a plush of himself!

She could have written something in a ‘thank you’ card or even decorated a poster, but Y/n wanted to make him something special that took time to put together and this plush toy was perfect.

The plush stood at about 1 foot tall and it was very adorable. Although Y/n didn’t sew on a green cape like she wanted to, she had gotten her hands on a piece of yellow fabric and turned it into a horned helmet. Loki was, without a doubt, going to love it, but Y/n kept on hesitating on whether or not she should give it to him.

‘Oh gosh. What if he laughs at me when I hand it to him? ’, thought Y/n to herself. She couldn’t stop shaking. Her legs were barely holding her up anymore. Y/n just pictured herself standing on the desk in front of Loki and how small she would look compared to him.

“Hello little one! Why aren’t you with the others?”, said a voice from behind Y/n. She jumped, dropping the hand-made plush onto the mattress below her.

She spun around to find out who had snuck up behind her and startled her. Y/n’s eyes widened as she looked up at the tall, blonde haired man. “M-Mr. Thor! I-It’s a pleasure to meet you!”, said Y/n excitedly. Her face instantly turned red. Y/n was very shy around other people, so her burst of energy she got made her backpedal into her shell. She knows for a fact that she’ll be stuttering if she gets to talk to Loki.

Thor chuckled loudly. “It is an honor to meet you as well, little one. Apologies for scaring you.” His eyes trailed down at what Y/n had dropped. His mouth dropped open in awe. He bent down and picked the plush up before Y/n had the chance to hide it.

As Thor held the plush toy in front of him, he admired the precision of the details and traced his fingers along the lines of the stitches. When Thor realized who the plush represented, he gasped.

“Young one, is this-...is this Loki?”, asked Thor, astonished that he was holding a hand-made toy of his brother. Y/n lowered her head down, embarrassed about the whole situation that was happening. “Y-Yes, sir”, she said timidly.

Thor stared at the small girl in front of him and then looked back at the plush. “This is absolutely incredible, young one! Did you make this?”, Thor asked as he stared at the plush toy, looking at it in amazement. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it! Y/n nodded, too nervous to say anything else.

“We must get this to Loki right away! Oh, he’s going to love this! Let me go call him over here for you”, said Thor cheerfully.

Y/n’s heart stopped at the mention of Loki coming towards her. She wasn’t ready to meet him yet. In fact, she wasn’t ever going to be ready! “N-No Mr. Thor p-please! D-Don’t!”, exclaimed Y/n.

Thor stopped jumping up and down, a frown replacing the happy smile he had on. “Whatever do you mean, small one? Don’t you want to give your gift to him?”, asked Thor. He was highly confused as to why the child didn’t want to meet Loki.

“I-I’d love to, b-but-...I’m scared that h-he won’t like it. A-And that he w-won’t like me”, Y/n said sadly. “I-..”, started Y/n. She stopped before she could say anything else. Y/n was afraid that she would start crying. Thor knelt down in front of Y/n, giving her a look that mentally told her to continue on with what she was going to say.

“I don’t have m-many friends. A-Actually, I don’t have any f-friends at all. Loki is the one person that I look up to and-...I just wanted to let him know how much of an impact he’s had in my life”, said Y/n. She bit her lower lip, forcing herself to not shed a single tear in front of Thor. “But I’m too scared to talk to him. I don’t want to look dumb in front of the Loki. I-I’ll be a stuttering mess. I’m not scared of him, his size is just really intimidating.”

Thor didn’t say a word. All he did do, however, was sigh and hand back the plush toy back to Y/n, who immediately hugged it close to her.

He gently put his hand on her shoulder, causing Y/n to look up at him. “My brother needs to know about this, little one. I’m going to have him sit right here-...”, said Thor as he turned towards the edge of the bed and pointed at the vacant space where Loki would be standing soon. Y/n’s eyes became watery just imagining Loki looking down at her.

“I’ll only be a moment”, said Thor. And with that, he summoned Mjölnir and flew off to fetch Loki. As his feet left the bed, he heard Y/n begging him to stop. Thor did feel bad for getting Y/n all shaken up, but he knew in his heart that Y/n needed to meet Loki and Loki needed to meet Y/n. It was time that the two of them finally made a friend.

Loki sat at his desk with his one arm propped up on its elbow resting on the table as his chin laid in the palm of his hand while the other hand flicked through a few pages of a book. Loki was not interested in the meet and greet anymore. He was going to make sure that he informed Tony that he isn’t going to be a part of the 3rd event next year. Loki couldn’t handle not getting talked to for a third time.

Loki had somehow tuned out the noise that was coming from all around the room and focused on the book in front of him. That was until Thor landed on the page that Loki had just started to read. “Hello Loki!”, said Thor as he waved to his gigantic brother.

Loki rolled his eyes. When he said he wanted someone to talk to him, he was hoping that Thor would be the last to come over here. “What do you want, Thor? Have you come to gloat? To mock? Tell me about all the fans you’ve met in the span of one hour?”, chided Loki.

“As much as I would love to tell you about the fans I’ve met, I’ve come to inform you about something”, said Thor, trying to hide the excitement he was feeling so that Loki didn’t suspect anything.

Thor stood there practically bouncing up and down. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Loki’s face when he told him about Y/n. Loki, however, was getting annoyed at the anticipation that was building up inside him. “Oh by Odin, just spit it out Thor”, he said.

“You have a fan that wants to meet you!”, exclaimed Thor. He was more than happy at the moment, jumping up and down like a thrilled, little puppy on a sugar rush. Loki’s eyes widened when Thor revealed the news. “I do?”, he asked with hope in his voice. Thor nodded vigorously and said, “You do, brother! I am so happy for you! She’s standing right over there on your bed near the pillow closest to us.” Thor pointed over to where Y/n stood clutching onto the plush toy.

Thor couldn’t wait any longer to witness the interaction between Loki and Y/n. He was for sure going to ask Stark to take pictures just so he could remember this moment.

Loki slowly turned his head to where Thor had said the small girl was standing. Almost instantaneously, Loki made eye contact with the small, mortal child.

‘I do have a fan..”, thought Loki to himself.

She was staring at him with wide eyes. That’s when Loki realized something. ‘The poor child is visibly shaking’, thought Loki to himself. He looked back at Thor and asked, “Brother, are you sure that she wants to speak with me? She looks frightened.”

Thor laughed off what Loki had just said. “Loki, believe me. She has been meaning to meet you for awhile now. And she even made you a gift!”, exclaimed Thor.

Loki’s eyebrows raised. He wanted to believe Thor, but his conscience just wouldn’t let him trust the fact that someone came to this event to meet him.

Loki looked back at the tiny girl on his bed. Without taking his eyes off of her, he asked Thor, “What’s the little one’s name?” Thor smiled, loving how Loki was practically speechless. “Her name is Y/n.”

“Y/n-...”, said Loki under his breath. He wanted to hear how the little mortal’s name sounded when he said it, finding the name a perfect fit for the little one.

He went to get up from his desk, but looked back at Thor to see if he should go over to her. Thor smiled at him and said, “Go on, brother. Go meet your fan.” Loki partially smiled, afraid that he would scare the poor girl. But he desired to meet her, so he got up from his seat and made his way over towards her.

Y/n felt as if she was going to have a heart attack. Meeting someone you admired wasn’t easy. I mean, just picture meeting Loki. And now picture him being over 90 feet tall. You would be a nervous wreck as well, right?

She watched as Loki lowered himself down to her eye level, kneeling down so that he could see her properly.

Loki rested his hand next to Y/n and began to inch it closer to her. He desired to just hold her in his palm and see how tiny she was, but he froze when he saw her flinch back. “My apologies. I-..”, Loki stopped dead in his track and sighed, closing his eyes so he could concentrate. He wouldn’t be able to make any progress with the small mortal if a mere movement of his hand scared her, so what would be the point in continuing to try and earn her trust?

Loki retracted his hand back and let it hang at his side, offering a gentle smile. “How about if I head back to my desk and leave you be? I could see that you are too scared to talk, little one”, said Loki as he looked down at Y/n. Normally, Loki would have been laughing his head off by scaring such a small being, basking in their fear, but Loki felt horrible knowing that a small child was afraid of him. “I’m very sorry for frightening you, little Y/n”, said Loki softly.

Y/n watched as Loki began to push himself up off the floor to stand up. Her only chance of speaking with Loki was ending quickly. Y/n had dreamed of meeting him and she made him believe that she was scared of him! Y/n had to let him know how much he had changed her life and most importantly, she had to give him her hand-made gift. “W-Wait!!”, Y/n cried out.

Loki became as stiff as a board. He didn’t think that something so little could have such a loud voice. He stared down at her, waiting for a response.

Y/n’s breathing hitched, but she shook her head. She couldn’t let her nerves get in the way of this anymore. “I-I’m star-struck. N-Not scared”, she said shyly. Loki’s mouth hung open just a tad. He was incredibly happy that Y/n had started talking and found it absolutely adorable how she was stuttering when she spoke.

It took Loki a second to process what Y/n had just said to him. ‘Did she just say she’s star-struck?’, asked Loki to himself. “Star-struck, you say?”, asked Loki as he knelt back down in front of Y/n. Surely she couldn’t be referring to him, right?

Loki’s doubtful thoughts were wiped out of his mind when she nodded her head. “Y-Yes. I um-...I-I wanted to come last year and m-meet you, but-..I was too n-nervous”, said Y/n smiling diffidently.

His eyebrows raised at hearing that she was his fan. ‘Thor was telling the truth’, Loki thought to himself. He leaned forward a bit to get a better look at Y/n and asked in astonishment, “You’re a fan of mine?”

Y/n laughed quietly at how Loki wouldn’t believe the fact that someone was his fan. “Y-Yes, sir. I have been f-for a while n-now.”

“What is your name, child?”, asked Loki. He already knew what her name was thanks to Thor, but remember, Loki was a part of a royal family. Manners meant everything to him.

“M-My name is Y-Y/n, sir”, she said, stuttering through her words. Loki beamed at the tiny mortal and awed our loud. Her nervousness was quite entertaining and very cute. “It is lovely to meet you, little Y/n. I am Loki”, he said, still smiling.

Y/n returned the smiled. “I-It’s lovely to meet you as well, s-sir.” Loki’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘Why does she keep calling me that? She does know she could call me by my name, does she not?’, Loki asked himself.

He decided to tell her, “You do not have to be so formal with me, small one. Just call me Loki. I won’t mind.” Loki gently ruffled her hair with his index finger, laughing at the way she giggled when he did so.

Loki was surprised with what was happening in front of his very eyes. Someone actually was a fan of his. Loki was brought out of his shocked state when he noticed that Y/n was holding something firmly against her chest.

“What have you got there, little one?, he asked. He thought that it must be a stuffed toy that Midguardian children carry around, but Y/n spoke up immediately about the item she held in her grasp.

“Oh! I-..I-I have something f-for you”, said Y/n as she held up the plush toy so Loki could see it.

Loki squinted his eyes, trying to even out his vision so he could see the tiny item that his little fan was holding, but he just couldn’t make out what it was. He wanted to rest his head on the mattress in front of Y/n, but he didn’t want to scare her. “I’m afraid I can’t see it that well from up here, little one. Is-..Is that alright if I pick you up?”, asked Loki, nervous to hold a mortal child. She seemed so incredibly fragile from his perspective.

Y/n’s eyes widened. ‘P-Pick me up?’, she thought to herself. She would be extremely high off the ground if she said yes, but this was her shot to finally show Loki the plush she had worked on for weeks now.

Loki saw the immediate change in her facial expressions. “I will be very gentle with my movements, little one. And you won’t fall or anything like that. I promise”, said Loki softly. He wanted to come off as kind as he possibly could so Y/n could relax.

“O-Okay-..”, she said nervously. Loki rested his hand on the mattress next to Y/n, palm facing up, waiting for her to climb on.

Y/n walked over to Loki’s hand and as much as her mind was screaming at her to not go through with it, she boarded the huge hand and made her way to the center of it. She sat down, waiting to be lifted up high off the bed.

Loki smiles at the small girl and raised her up to his face, staring down at her with his large, green eyes.

Y/n was definitely scared at first, but she calmed herself down. She slowly stood up in the center of Loki’s palm, looking around at how tiny she really was compared to him. She had to tilt her head up just a little bit so she could see the tips of his fingers that loomed behind her.

“Now, what were you trying to show me, my dear?”, asked Loki as he held Y/n in front of his eyes. She was so tiny, not even reaching the height of his thumb.

Y/n held up the plush again so that Loki could see it.

“I-...I made th-this plush toy for you. W-Whenever I had the f-free time to work on it, I did. I-I know it’s sm-small, but I worked r-really hard on it and I wanted to show you my ap-appreciation for everything that you’ve done”, said Y/n. She kept her eyes locked on Loki’s green orbs

Loki admired the small gift that Y/n held. The first thing he noticed were the yellow horns and the fabric armor it wore. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off it Loki’s mind. “Is-..Is that me?”, asked Loki, bewildered.

Y/n hesitatingly nodded her head yes, shuffling her feet around nervously as she waited for Loki’s response.

“May I hold it?”, he asked, holding out two fingers on his opposite hand. Loki hoped that he didn’t ruin such a wonderful gift. He didn’t want to hurt Y/n’s feelings by accidentally ripping the fabric apart with his large fingers.

“Of course y-you can!”, said Y/n as her eyes lit up with excitement. She was more than happy that Loki wanted to see his gift.

Y/n watched as Loki’s other hand approached her. The forefinger and thumb reached out for the plush toy and she happily obliged in handing it over. The two fingers grabbed onto either side of the plush toy and ferried it away from Y/n.

Loki laid the plush toy in the center of his other palm and raised it up to his eyes. He slightly touched it with the pad of his thumb, moving it around to get a better look at it. The whole time he did this, Loki was beaming a wide smile. He looked up from the plush toy and at the small girl who was staring at him with wide, blue eyes. ‘Such an innocent child-..’, thought Loki to himself as he smiled down at her.

“That is very kind of you. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Truly. You do not know how much of an honor it is for me to receive such an extraordinary gift. Thank you, little Y/n”, said Loki.

“You-..You like it?”, asked Y/n, astonished that he liked the present she had put so much effort into making sure it looked similar to Loki.

“I don’t like it, I love it! You have an incredible talent, young one. I could never start from scratch with fabric and a few needles to create such a masterpiece”, said Loki as he ruffled Y/n’s hair gently.

Y/n and Loki spent the rest of the event taking to each other. They had moved back over to Loki’s desk for a bit of privacy. The children that were on the bed were all starting to get Loki annoyed. Every time Y/n would go to say something, she was interrupted by noise from the others her age. So, Loki had carried her back to his desk while the plush toy sat safely tucked away in his shirt pocket.

Out of now where, a feminine voice exclaimed Y/n’s name. “Y/n! Sweetie! It’s time to go home!”

Loki’s eyebrows slightly furrowed together, looking for the human that had called out to his tiny friend. He looked down to see a woman looking up towards the hand that held Y/n, who was holding onto Loki’s finger tips as she peered over the edge.

“Hi mom!”, shouted Y/n as she waved at her mother. Loki’s eyes softened at the adorable sight. He looked at Y/n’s mother and, of course, introduced himself.

“Hello ma’am. It is lovely to meet your acquaintance”, said Loki as he bowed his head. Y/n’s mother smiled up at Loki.

“I’m sorry to cut things short here, but Y/n, we have to head home now honey. It’s getting late”, said her mother.

“B-But..”, Y/n’s mother gave her a certain look to know she meant business.

“Okay.” Y/n turn towards Loki with sadness written all over her face. “I-I..I guess I have to go now. I just want to say thank you. I-I’ve dreamed of meeting m-my idol for a long time and this is by far the b-best day of my life.”

“I’m your-...idol?”, asked Loki. His heart had fully melted into a puddle when she nodded her head yes. Loki could see tears glistening in his little friend’s eyes, for she knew that they probably wouldn’t ever see each other once she exits his room. “I’ll m-miss you, L-Loki.” Y/n broke down at this point. She used the backs of her hands to wipe away the tears.

“Oh my little dove, do not cry. It’s okay. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon”, said Loki.

He held Y/n close to his chest as he tenderly caressed her back. Maybe they would see each other again, but-..what was the probability of that? Loki came to the realization that they most likely would never see each other anymore. He’s constantly here in the tower and is permitted to always stick around his room. “I-…I’ll miss you as well, my little dove.”

“Oh for heavens sake you two!”, exclaimed a voice. Loki’s gaze shot upwards to find that Tony Stark was hovering way above the desk.

“Always with the perfect timing, Stark”, said Loki angrily. He held out the palm that cupped Y/n protectively and allowed Stark to land right next to her.

“Kid listen. The amount of joy that you’ve brought Loki in a span of two hours is unbelievable. He has been the worst debbie downer for the past few weeks, but you put a smile on the big guy’s face in a matter of seconds”, said Tony as he smiled at Y/n.

“Please, get to the point”, said Loki. He poked Tony in the back, causing him to stumble forward. Tony laughed it off.

“She can come visit you whenever she wants. Here, take this, kid-…”, Tony gave Y/n a card with a number on it. “This here is my phone number. Now whenever you want to come up to the tower and see Loki, you just call me up so I can let him know, okay? I’ll even have a limo sent to your house if you’d like”, said Tony.

Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off of the card. She was in complete shock. “Th-Thank you so much!”, she said happily. “No problem, kid. And no more tears, alright? Loki here looked like he was about to start crying himself”, said Tony sarcastically. He glanced up at Loki, smirking away.

Loki was about to retaliate, but kept quiet because he knew Tony was right. He probably would have started crying if Stark hadn’t come over to them. “Alright, I’ll let you say your farewells to each other”, said Tony as he flew over to the bed.

“L-Loki, could I come see you tomorrow? If that’s okay with you o-of course”, asked Y/n nervously. She really hoped that Loki would say yes because she had so much more to tell him about how she became a fan of his.

“Absolutely, sweetheart”, said Loki. He lightly tickled her stomach, causing Y/n to laugh.

After Y/n had left with her mother, Loki looked down at the plush toy in his palm. “This will never leave my side. Ever. I cannot wait to see my little friend again tomorrow”, said Loki.

Loki stayed true to his word as he as he slept later that night. Next to Loki’s sleeping form was the plush toy Y/n had gifted to him. It sat upright against Loki’s green pillow and sometime during the night in his sleep, Loki reached over and grabbed a hold of the plush toy, drawing it near him. He held it close to his chest, subconsciously smiling to himself.

_______________________________________________

Author’s note:

This is probably my longest story I’ve ever written! I hope you all liked it!! Do you guys mind if I post long stories like this? Or do you prefer short ones?? Let me know what you think!❤️

Also, here’s what the Loki plush looks like😊:

I bought this lil’ cutie off of Etsy! I’m so happy I finally got to include him into one of the stories somehow. The seller’s name is “MythfitCreatures” and they have different characters as well!

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Ayato Maniac [Prologue]

ー The scene starts on the balcony in Banmaden

Cordelia: ...What is that wench’s problem...!? Ayato as well...!

How dare he oppose me like that...!

???: ...You seem to be in somewhat of a bad mood.

ー Richter approaches her

Richter: ーー However, you are beautiful even when upset, my precious Cordelia.

Cordelia: Richter...Hmph, what do you want?

Richter: I do not need a reason to be with you. Please do not be so cold to me.

Cordelia: Come on, if you want to keep me company that badly, come a little closer. ーー Get down on the floor, and lick my foot.

Richter: As you wish...

*Rustle*

Richter: Aah, Cordelia. You are the perfect woman. Every part of your body is stunning.

Cordelia: Why of course? ...Fufu...That position fits you very well. Come on, lick it.

Richter: It would be an honour, Cordelia...Nn.

Cordelia: ...Exactly. You are doing a great job, Richter...

Fufu...

...Right...All men in this world should be at my feet.

Yet...Ayato...You...!

Richter! I have had enough! Back off!!

ー Cordelia kicks him away

*Thud*

Richter: Ah!

Cordelia: Ah, gosh...! I have had enough of all these people.

Christa...That whore’s son...As well as the child of that hag Beatrix...

Destroying his violin did not deal nearly enough damage ...Fufufu.

Either way, if only I can retrieve my heart from that little girl...

Richter: Cordelia...

I will return your heart to you at all costs, my beloved.

For your sake, I do not mind just how much blood I have to get on these hands of mine.

Cordelia: Richter...Thank you. I am relying on you, fufufu.

However...Let me deliver the final blow, okay? I want to retrieve what belongs to me with my own hands.

In front of Ayato...I will rip out her heart...! What do you think? Sounds like the perfect come-back, no? 

Richter: Yes, Cordelia!

Cordelia: Nfu~ I knew you would say that.

As a reward for meeting my expectations...

I shall bless you with a kiss. Nn...

Richter: ...! Aah...Cordelia...!

ー The scene shifts to the Sakamaki manor

Reiji: ーー Hm? Aah. You can seal that invitation now.

Yui: Okay.

Reiji: Please use that candle over there to seal the envelopes.

Yui: Y-Yes...

*Flip*

Yui: ( There’s still so many left...I wonder how much longer it will take...? )

*Flip flip*

Reiji: Good grief...Starting with that good-for-nothing, I wonder why none of the people in this house are willing to help out with anything.

They are acting as if none of this concerns them. Honestly...

Yui: Y-Yeah...

( However, even if they were here, I feel like Reiji-san might have a hard time either way... )

*Flip flip*

ー Ayato enters the living room

Ayato: Woah, look who’s working hard over here! You’re practically buried underneath those letters, Chichinashi!

Yui: Ayato-kun!

Reiji: Ayato! Honestly, you are so...If you have the time to poke fun at someone else, how about you actually help out a little?

Ayato: In your dreams. That’s not my job.

Yui: ( I’ve been worried since he has been cooped up in his room as of late but...Seems like he’s doing well. )

Ayato: ...

ー Ayato leaves again

Yui: Ah...

( I guess he’s still... )

...W-Wait, Ayato-kun!

ー Yui chases after him

Reiji: You too!? Halt, Komori Yui!

Yui: I’m sorry! I’ll get back right away...!

ー The scene shifts to the forest outside

Yui: Haah, haah, haah...Ayato-kun!

Ayato: You...Why did you follow me all the way out here?

Weren’t you helpin’ out Reiji?

Yui: I was but...I wanted to talk to you for a bit.

Ayato: Hm...

Yui: W-What brings you here?

Ayato: Not like there’s anythin’ fun to do inside my room. Our family doesn’t need another shut-in besides Subaru.

My mind ends up wanderin’ as well...

So I figured I would get some fresh aーー

...No...

Yui: ...?

Ayato: I just remembered somethin’ great. Follow me for a bit.

Yui: Eh? S-Sure...

( I wonder what’s wrong? )

ー The scene shifts to the flower field

Ayato: Ohー... They’re bloomin’, just like I thought...

Yui: Ayato-kun, this isーー

Ayato: ーー Lunar eclipse flowers.

Apparently they only bloom durin’ an eclipse. Last time, I came across them by pure coincidence...

I bet you like this kinda stuff, don’t you?

Yui: Yeah...

They’re so pretty...

( ...Every day has been filled with anxieties ever since we came here. )

( However, perhaps I was being too afraid of this place, simply because it is foreign to me. )

Ayato: ...

Yui: The Demon World, you see...It’s obviously different from my own world, so there’s a bunch of surprises...

However, I now realize it’s home to such beautiful flowers as well.

This is where you and your brothers grew up, isn’t it?

In that case, I want to get to know it better as well.

Ayato: Yui...

*Rustle*

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“Don’t you dare show that expression of yours to anyone else, ‘kay? That’s a promise with Yours Truly.”

“Vistin’ these kind of spots isn’t bad once in a while, right? I was so kind to take you here, so you better be grateful, Chichinashi.”

Ayato: ...Even so, don’t just go wanderin’ ‘round while leavin’ yourself completely defenseless, ‘kay?

No matter in which world we are, you are still mine, remember?

Oi, do you understand that?

Yui: Ayato-kun...

Yeah...I belong to you, Ayato-kuーー

*Rustle*

Ayato: ...!

Who’s there!?

???: ...My sincere apologies. I did not mean to interrupt.

I am simply one other person drawn to this place by the lunar eclipse flowers.

Yui: ( Who is this guy...? )

Ayato: ...What? Haven’t seen you ‘round here?

Mertz: Nice to meet you. ーー My name is Mertz.

Yui: Mertz...san...

Mertz: Exactly. This presence...That gentleman over there is a Vampire, is he not? So am I. Furthermore...

I could not help but become captivated by the image of a young, interspecies couple sharing their mutual love amidst the beautiful flower fields.

Ayato: Ah!? Don’t make me gag!! Get out of my sight!!

Mertz: ...You say that but...I am not quite sure where I should go...

Yui: ...? What do you mean?

Mertz: To tell the truth, I am a bit of an outcast seeing as I was both born and raised in the human world...

Even so, to reconnect with my roots as a demonic species, I made the decision to return to this world.

That being said...This place is simply too different from the human world.

I have been aimlessly wandering around, unknowing where to go.

Ayato: Hm...

Yui: ( He was born and raised in the human world...Which means he is the same as me. )

( In that case, I can definitely sympathize with him. )

( Above all...He must be horribly lonely. Me too, if I didn’t have Ayato-kun and the others, who knows what... )

Mertz: ...Excuse me...I realize this might be very imprudent of me to ask, however...

I am sure we met here through some sort of fate. Would you be so kind...to teach me about the Demon World?

Ayato: Aah? Just walk ‘round here for a bit and you’ll figure things out whether you like it or not.

Mertz: I am sure, but...

Ayato: Then leave already!

Yui: W-Wait, Ayato-kun. Let’s try hearing him out first.

Ayato: Aah!?

Yui: I kind of understand how he would feel at a loss here...

Ayato: ...Haah...

Yui: Please, Ayato-kun?

Ayato: ...

...Che, fine.

If we return to the castle now, we’ll just get another one of Reiji’s annoyin’ lectures anyway.

Mertz: Aah...! Thank you so much! I have found some reassuring comrades down here!

Ayato: Comrades? Don’t get the wrong idea now...

Yui: ( Thank god...While we’re at it, it’ll be a great opportunity for me to learn about the Demon World as well. )

ー The scene shifts to Mertz’ manor

Yui: ( So this is Mertz-san’s home...? )

Ayato: ...Hm? What’s this smell?

...! Oi, what’s this thing sittin’ on the table?

Mertz: Fufu, they’re extra-large takoyaki made with a special spice blend.

Ayato: Takoyaki, you say...!?

Mertz: Oh dear? If you like these, go ahead and have one.

Ayato: ...

...Well, guess I have no other choice if you insist. I’ll try one then.

...

This stuff’s hella delicious!

Yui: A-Ayato-kun! You shouldn’t eat them all...

Ayato: Shut up! Never heard of survival of the fittest? The early bird gets the worm!

Mertz: Fufu, good point. That might be how things work in this world.

Ayato: Oh! You get me!

Yui: ( Gosh, Ayato-kun... )

( But...I do want him to smile brightly like this after all. )

Mertz: ...

ー The scene shifts to the reception hall in Banmaden

Shin: Nii-san! Nii-san, listen to me!

Why did you give a physical body to that woman!?

She’s been going around acting as if the whole world belongs to her...I’ve reached my limit. Can I just kill her already?

Carla: ーー You cannot.

Give that woman free reign for now. She will eventually begin to carry out her duty.

Shin: What do you mean...?

Carla: She is an important piece in the puzzle to put an end to Karlheinz.

Shin: Hm...I feel like I understand, yet not quite at the same time.

However...Seems like things are about to get interesting. Hehe...!

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Dark Epilogue ] [ Maniac 01 ] ->

[stay-midnight]

Wrong Wishes were Made~ or was it wrong?

Elf Seungmin x Male Reader

Word #: 2.7K Words

Triggering Stuff: Explicit Smut, Awkward.

Warnings/Kinks: Dominant/Top Kim Seungmin, Submissive/Bottom Male Reader, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex (Use protection!! :<) Spit as Lubricant (Use a lube that is made for sexual purposes) Teasing, Wish Sex, Whiny Reader, Begging, Fingering, Cumming, Nipple Play, Licking, Aftercare isn’t shown(Please, do not ever leave your partner hanging after sex.) and Slight Hair Pulling.

Min’s notes: This was supposed to be the Christmas special :l I’m sorry i posted it so very late- djdjd.

A jolly atmosphere arose in the town of Snowday, whenever there‘s Christmas, there is happiness or so the mayor always said. No matter what, Christmas day on Snowday were always full of joy and community activities and this year’s Christmas wasn’t any different as you found yourself collecting money from house to house, grumbling in dissatisfaction leaving behind a trail of grumpy emotions in your wake.

Another doorbell you pressed, hating that 'ding' sound as you’ve heard it a million times from your boring trip. “Hi, ma’am, would you be inclined to donate for Snowday charity?” Your lips curving up in a fake smile as you spoke.

“Tch.” the old lady said under her breath, but you heard it which made your eye twitch in annoyance at her clear temper. The old lady when inside and after a while she came back, throwing coins at you which landed on the floor.

You kept the smile on your face as she shut the door, you collected the pieces of silver nickels on the ground, and as you got far away from the house, “What a bitch.” you cursed in annoyance.

You seethed as you walked over from house to house until twilight shrouds the sky, turning it dimmer and dimmer by the long minutes.

You sighed in relief after you delivered the money-filled bag back to the charity building.

Sadly, you had no family to celebrate with nor friends due to your lack of social skills and the fact that your family is in another continent. You didn’t have enough money right now to travel and clearly your family was not gonna pay for it.

You walked over to your house and unlocked your front door, taking in the authentic and rustic smell of the inside due to Snowday’s houses were very aesthetic-like with the cabin looks and stuff.

You gasped silently as you saw a shadow near your living room, on instict, you grab an umbrella to arm yourself. Well.. I guess whatever works and that anything can be a weapon.

You took a peek slowly and the first thing you saw are pointy ears and what you identified as a brown-haired male, “Who and why are you in my house?” you questioned loudly, holding the umbrella up tightly—taking a defensive stance.

The male harmlessly walked towards you and as he got more closer, you noticed his features was a bit out of this world... ‘He’s really pretty..’ was the first thought came to your head.

You regain conscience and glared at him, “Stay A—” he immediately cut you off by kissing you on the lips which suprised you, stumbling back into the wall with shock.

He then started to strip his clothes which made you let out the weirdest noise you ever let out, “W- What are you doing!?” you said covering your eyes with your hands, a bit embarrassed as what this man was doing.

He tilted his head in confusion and furrowed his eyebrows. “Didn’t you wish for this?”

Wish? Your mind was a bit hazy and confused at his words, then a memory popped into your head.

Five days ago, a doorbell rang in your house—cabin, you didn’t know what to call it. You sighed as you remove the apron you were wearing and turned off the stove, that was boiling the meat for your dinner.

You walked over the door and saw a small male with white hair, “Yes? What do you need?” you asked him in a calm tone. You noticed he was holding a gold box and a bunch of papers.

“Your wish for Christmas, sir” He said with a small smile, giving you a paper and a pen.

“What?” you asked, raising your eyebrow as you took the paper and pen slowly.

“Write your wish and it shall be granted.” he said and nodded alot, encouraging you to do it.

You were very much skeptical in his words and that lead you to write something on the paper as a ‘joke’ you wrote bluntly:

‘ To be fucked ’

And you spent the whole evening after that, laughing because of what you wrote at the piece of paper.

Fuck. you thought. “I p-put it in as joke okay?!” you stuttered out the first part due to find him shirtless now.

His ears twitched slightly,

“Well. That can’t be, wishes in the wishing ballot can’t be took back. So either I fuck you or I’ll be attached to you until I do.” He explained in a calm demeanor but you slightly tell he was getting annoyed.

He proceeded to unbutton his jeans— “Take a seat first!” you shouted out before he managed to pull them down. He looked at you with curiousity, “Why?” the male said

You sighed and gestured him to sit down the couch, he nodded slowly and faced you, “Okay look, this is weird. An elf-looking person wants to fuck me? I don’t even know your name for Pete’s sake!” you groaned out.

“Yes. The name’s Seungmin and I’m not ‘elf-looking’ I am an elf.” he said nonchalantly, moving closer to you before placing a hand on your thigh, you pushed the hand away with an awkward laugh.

“Can we please, just get this over with?” said the elf in front of you in a bored-stricken voice. You shook your head in disapproval with Seungmin letting out a sigh after.

“Look here, I won’t be able to get back to the north unless I grant the wish you placed on the ballot, and I very much want to go back now,” Seungmin spoke in a deep voice, almost as if he was trying to coax you into letting himself have you, which he is trying to.

“Uh, I’m not ready?” you said with a flustered face clearly not used to this.

He grinned and decided to have fun teasing you, “Hmm? What’s there to be ready about?~ You’ll just have to take me like a good boy~” he teased with his honey-like voice.

You look at him, your mouth hanging open as you kept on blinking in shock.

“How and why did you even agree to granting my ‘wish’ ” you asked curiously still a bit suspicious of him, what if he just was a random person that read your wísh and snuck inside your house, and many more thoughts like that kept popping inside your head.

He chuckled, “I was the one tasked by our leader since I was not listening to him and ‘being sarcastic’.” He rolled his eyes at the memory, “But enough about that..” He continued as he placed his shoulder on top of his knee to support his chin as he leaned towards you, “I must say, I’m intrigued about you Y/N~” He said, smirking.

“What’s there to be intrigued about?” you said, nervously, swallowing the saliva that was forming at the sides of your mouth due to nervousness now.

“A lot, the fact that you seem to submissive for someone who had never taken it from the back, are you a still a virgin~?” he asked questioningly with a small smirk playing at his lips, his eyes boring into your very being and lips slightly flaking due to dryness of the air causing him to lick his lips to keep it red and plump.

“I’m not... I just never been fucked before... Plus, I only wrote that as a joke..” You spoke slowly, you wore a thin smile, guilt slightly erupting inside you at the fact that this elf is just granting your wish, no more no less.

He sighed, “Well there is really nothing I could do about it now... I’ll stick with you if you don’t really want it.” Seungmin sighed out, grabbing the shirt he removed earlier and wore it back on.

You nod slowly and sat down, “Well uhm... It’s okay as long as it helps you since I did cause you trouble.” you said, scratching the back of your head awkwardly.

His eyes lit up at that as he stared at you with a noticeable happy glint in his eyes, “Should we do it now?” Seungmin said, his puppy expression is melting your inside as you giggle at his antics.

“T-Then, please be gentle with me..” You said, looking at him slightly nervous, which made Seungmin look at you in awe.

“Of course Y/N.” Your name rolling of his tongue sweetly as he moved closer and sat right next to you. His sweet smile immediately turned to a grin, looking at you with hunger.

“You’re too pretty and cute~” The elf teased, caressing your hips before pinning you down the couch as your breath hitched on your throat.

You were shocked by his words as you gulped, looking at the dandy elf in the eyes. He leaned down to your ear, “You said to go gentle on you, but I bet you’d like it if I destroy you~” Seungmin whispered, biting the lobe of your ear.

You whimpered in response, grinding up against him, “You like the sound of that? If you ever get fucked by somebody all you could think would be no one but me.” His lips trailing to your jawline, kissing it.

“I should thank Chan for picking me to do this cause I’ve never seen a more pretty human than you, Y/N.” He bites your neck, marking all of it, sending you shivers down your spine.

“Want me to fuck you that you’ll remember it for days? Is that your wish pet?” He mumbles as you let out a sigh.

He trailed his hand underneath your shirt and pinched a nipple making you gasp and throw your head back, “Hmm? I asked a question and I expect an answer.” He said, digging his fingers on your skin, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Y-Yes Seungmin...” You pant, not really used to being under someone. You stare at his face, taking notes of his features, a bit taken aback that someone so cute and puppy like features be this dominant.

He trailed his other hand further down, his fingers trailing past the visible tent between your legs, “Someone’s quite excited, hm?” He then gave it a squeeze eliciting a whine coming from your very lips.

“Please... G-Get it over with.... I want this...” You huffed, thrusting your hips against his.

He smirked, “Ah ah, patience.” he continued teasing you, he removed every piece of your clothing leaving you a flustered mess.

He brushed his hand against the tip of your cock and grabbed it fully, wrapping it with his chilled hands making you hiss at the coldness. “Your cock is cute.” he chuckled kissing the tip of it, digging his nails on your slit making you yelp and whine.

“Please please, just— just fuck me already.” you babbled, bucking up into his hand, your mind hazy from pleasure and needy for the elf’s touches, he grins as he look down at you.

He then proceeded encircling his thumb around the head, watching you get more needier by the second, your begs and whines sounding like music to Seungmin’s ear.

You arch your back at the pleasure when he started to slowly jerk you off, making sure your sensitive is increased tenfold.

But when he suddenly removed his hand that was jerking you off, you let out a loud whine at that and started thrusting your hips up his knees that was settled in between your thighs.

“Patience. baby.” He murmured dangerously and held your hips down. Seungmin then lifted one of your legs up and placed it on your shoulder, he then encircled his index finger on your rim— and that made you crumble fully.

“Don’t tease, please.. Want...” You trailed off, let out a thin moan when he finally inserted a finger, the feeling so foreign but pleasurable, you started rocking your hips to his fingers.

You grit your teeth to keep the embarrassing sounds stuck on your throat from coming out, he slapped your thigh. “Stay still.” he commanded, his voice sending waves of pleasure to your already fully hard dick.

You didn’t even notice that he had fully three fingers in you, he curled his fingers upwards hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves causing your moans get louder and your breathing more erratic. “Fuck, I need you inside, please Seungmin..!” you shouted.

After removing his fingers from your hole, he then removed his pants and boxers along with his shirt, he leaned down to press a gentle kiss on you before Seungmin spat on his hand to coat his own length, giving it a few strokes.

He then positioned his tip on your rim, your hole clenching in need as he continued teasing you, you had enough of his teasing and switched both of your position so you were on top before dropping down on him, making him gasp in suprise as he felt your warm walls around him.

“Fuck.” you groaned as your body trembled in pain from the entry making you stay still in his hip, to make sure not to hurt yourself too much.

“You’re too impatient, Y/N.” he grinned placing his big hands on your waist as you slowly started to rise yourself up and slamming down again—sending waves of pain and pleasure across your whole body.

“Too big...” You breathed out, releasing a moan as his head bluntly hit your prostate.

“Feels good, pet?” he said, caressing your hipbone.

You nod in response and he shook his head before he thrusted upwards making you let out a small scream. “Answer me with words.” he growled.

“F-Feels amazing... Hngh...” you steadied your breathing and relaxed your body, allowing Seungmin to thrust more easily, he bit your chest; marking it as his. He licked a striped up a nipple making your shiver in pleasure.

He looked at you as if you were his prey, dark lusty eyes and the dim moonlight shining through your window complimenting his beautiful pale skin. Snow heavily falling crystallizing your window in a thin layer of ice. You didn’t even noticed that the fire inside the fireplace had extinguished on its own due to the lack of new firewood.

You closed your eyes and lean your head back as you just let the pleasure course through your body and nerves. You gasped as you were suddenly lifted up the couch, your walls tightened around his cock, Seungmin let out a hiss at that, “Let’s go to your bedroom, I want to play with you more..” he whispered as he buried his face at your shoulder.

“I-It’s over there...” You pointed at a corridor.

“I’ll make this the best fuck, that you have ever gotten baby~” he growled playfully. He pulled out to carry you more efficiently to your bedroom but your lips never left his own as you both made out, tongues fighting against each other.

. .

After sometime of making out, you felt him lay you down on a soft mattress, he widened your legs more, reinserting himself on your already-abused hole from earlier, you moaned weakly as he kept pistoning his hips on your ass. “Fuck Seungmin... I’m gonna cum..” You breathed out.

He smirked and gripped your cock, slowly jerking it off. You moaned and gripped the elf’s hair, pulling on it after every thrust.

“You may cum, but we are far away from being done.” He whispered seductively , his lips moving back to your nipple as you came, white liquid shooting out from your tip, hitting his chest and also your own.

Let’s just after that was night full of your moans and Seungmin’s groans, as you’ve came atleast 3 more times while he came twice inside of you.

. . .

Morning came, and you look to your side finding him missing.

You blink twice as you register the missing elf making tears prick the side of your eyes, but then you found a note at your nightstand. You picked up the note and read:

I’ll come back in a week Y/N~ I’ll just help clean the messy workshop and talk to my leader. - Seung

You immediately sighed in relief and thought,

Maybe that wish wasn’t so bad after all.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH66

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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-----

Chapter 66: The Queen’s Inheritance (V)

When Qi Leren was held in Ning Zhou's arms, he couldn't stop loving this person.

He thought that he could never give Ning Zhou up. If he couldn’t stand beside Ning Zhou, he would be terribly lonely and desperate.

"Power comes at a price," Ning Zhou whispered in his ear. "If I finally lose myself and become the devil I fear and hate most... If one day that happens, you must... kill me."

Qi Leren's chest seemed to be struck hard by a heavy hammer, making him breathless and pained. His bitter tears burst out at once. He put his forehead on Ning Zhou's shoulder and shook his head hard. At this moment, he knew clearly that he couldn't do it.

He was not the saint Maria. He couldn't kill his most important person in order to protect humanity. He was just an ordinary selfish person. He could only try his best to prevent Ning Zhou from falling, even if he has to sacrifice his own life to do it. But if one day the world and his lover were placed at opposite ends of the same scale, the scale would only sway and tilt towards his lover.

Qi Leren, who was driven to despair by this cruel fate, even thought, what did world peace have to do with him? Who would be grateful to a saint who had fallen into evil? If Ning Zhou really did this, would he have to kill Ning Zhou for the sake of "justice"?

"If there is such a day, I will accompany you." Qi Leren choked and said, "You must, you must not leave me."

Qi Leren knew what kind of person Ning Zhou was. He had long been aware of Ning Zhou's personality of self-sacrifice and dedication. After suffering from demonization, this personality had even tilted in the direction of self-destruction.

Ning Zhou could sacrifice himself for others, but he didn't want others to do this for him. He regarded giving as God's reward, and never considered getting a reward. He doesn't want to drag anyone down. If one day he really fell down, he would definitely let go of his hand before falling into hell, and let the person he loved stay in the world.

Because he firmly believed that this was better for Qi Leren, but for Qi Leren, he wanted to be with the person he loved more, and he didn't care whether he was human or a devil, and whether this was the world or hell.

Ning Zhou didn't answer. Just like when they had talked on the balcony that night, he didn't answer.

But this time, Qi Leren couldn't bear it anymore.

"I'm telling you seriously that I don't accept your self-righteous decision." Qi Leren broke free from Ning Zhou's hug and said to him with anger for the first time, "You think it’s good for me, but have you ever thought about how I feel?"

Ning Zhou was silent for a long time. After a long time, he sighed and said to Qi Leren, "Look at your feet."

Qi Leren turned his head and looked down at the altar. More than half of the temple of this cult ceremony had collapsed: the had dome collapsed, the columns had collapsed, and everything had collapsed slowly and inexorably. After the time for the Prophet's Heart ended, the white flowers all over the ground changed back to their original appearance—the broken arms and limbs and dripping blood were all over the place, which were bloodier and more horrible than the slaughtered Valentine tribe.

The blood foaming from the corpses’ mouths made the acid in his stomach churn. Under the tense environment just now, Qi Leren hadn't noticed this, but now when he carefully looked at this piece of hell on earth, he still couldn't bear to look closely and averted his eyes.

Ning Zhou was not surprised.

He hadn't been with Qi Leren for a long time. Most of the time, they had still been far away from each other. There were only the few days since he had really confessed his heart. But he knew what kind of person Qi Leren was. He is brave and strong. Most of the good qualities of human beings could be found in him, but this couldn’t hide that he was a naive young man who had grown up sheltered.

He must have had a warm family, parents who loved him, mentors and friends along the way, and he had lived happily for the first half of his life, so he learned how to love others generously.

Beloved children would become excellent people when they grew up. Their view of the world was gentle, and they had a childlike innocence towards cruelty. Their love for the world was selfish. They loved easily and hated easily. Once they were hit, it was too easy for them to turn good love into deep hate.

Qi Leren had seen the cruelty of the Nightmare World. He had not seen the real terror, and he had not defeated the evil in his heart, so he would not know what it was like to still love the world after suffering.

He felt that he couldn't kill Ning Zhou, and would rather go down with him, but he also hadn't seen a Ning Zhou who had lost himself in his original force, killed innocent people, and even destroyed the world. His determination was just naive self-motivation at this moment.

"You see this ceremony. Such things happen every day in the hell of the underworld, ones more cruel than this. Everything you can imagine, what you can't imagine... is happening. You will never like all this," Ning Zhou said.

He would only slowly collapse in disgust, or become evil himself.

Qi Leren choked. He forced himself to stare at the blood on the ground and a tentacle at his feet that had not been burned away. Every raised lesion on it was filled with disgusting mucus. As Ning Zhou said, he would never like it.

Just like he could strive to be strong in order to survive, and even learn to kill people, but he didn't like it.

The life he liked was the life he had once had, not the daily bloodshed in the Nightmare World. In the dead of night, he would also think of his parents. They only had one child. If he died here, he would never go back...

"Let’s go back. These things can be thought about slowly, and this half-field is about to collapse." Ning Zhou wiped off the blood on his hands and pulled Qi Leren down the damaged steps of the altar.

Qi Leren was silent, with his head down, and his boots stepped on the blood that splashed like a pool of water, making him hold his breath subconsciously. In this dim temple, everything was destroyed and ruined. When going out of the temple, Qi Leren suddenly remembered the mysterious sacrifice that had destroyed the ceremony before, and immediately went back to look for him.

"He left," Ning Zhou said, as if he knew what he was thinking.

"Left? Can you leave here?" Qi Leren asked in a low voice.

"I need to find out who this person is," Ning Zhou said. Taking Qi Leren forward, there were traces of a violent breakthrough at the edge of the half-field. The passerby had hit this half-field with his own half-field—this simple and crude method was very dangerous, because the half-field was very fragile before it was completely condensed. It was like two eggs colliding with each other. No one can be sure which one would be broken, or if the two would break together.

"That man just now... was very strange," Qi Leren said. "Did he intentionally mix into the cult sacrifice group to stop the ceremony and save them?"

Ning Zhou shook his head: "He was not here to save anyone."

That man had had no kindness or pity for the innocent people here. He was like a tiger who challenged the hunting tiger king in order to overthrow the position of the king of the jungle. It was not his original intention to save the goats who had escaped from danger. It was just a coincidence.

Qi Leren also felt the difference in that man, and he grinned: "He’s a strange person, but I saw his weapon... Is he the one who fought against Ashley before?"

"It's him," Ning Zhou said with certainty.

Qi Leren had a hunch that he would meet this person again.

The two men went out from the broken part of the half-field that was about to collapse, instantly returned to the sloped building, and then walked towards the Trials Court’s headquarters.

　　

　　&&&

　　

"The worshippers of Utopia are getting more and more rampant," Celia said with a frown after hearing Qi Leren’s retelling of this cult sacrifice.

"Utopia is the Devil of Power’s field? What method did she use to sway the worshippers?" Qi Leren asked curiously.

He knew that with the Slaughter Secret Society of the Devil of Slaughter, by joining the organization and gaining recognition, members would have the opportunity to be given a powerful seed of slaughter, and could even be transformed into a demon. This was very attractive to ordinary people, so there were countless players and aborigines who joined in wave upon wave. However, Qi Leren still had little knowledge of what Utopia was.

"It’s said that as long as the monster guarding the gate of Utopia is summoned and given a good meal, it will generously open the door and let worshippers enter Utopia, where there is no death, no worry, no fear, and people can live a happy eternal life from now on," Celia said.

Qi Leren turned his head silently and complained to Ning Zhou, who was silent on the side: "They must be out of their minds?"

"...Hmm," Ning Zhou said.

"How can they believe that they can get what they want through this wicked ceremony? If nothing else, is the Devil of Power a kind person? Is she doing this to do good deeds?" Towards these idiotic fanatical worshippers, Qi Leren couldn't help but feel like he had a higher IQ.

Celia looked at the ripples in the cup of black coffee she held, and sighed lightly: "If you’re just an ordinary person, have no talent, and aren’t very brave, you don't know if you’ll still be alive tomorrow. You watch your relatives and friends die one by one, but there’s nothing you can do. Where do you want to pin your soul so it can breathe? People always have to believe something in order to forget the pain and suffering in front of them."

Qi Leren opened his mouth, but swallowed his words back.

He wanted to ask why they didn't work hard, but he felt that the question was like "why don't you eat more meat." Would hard work definitely have results? Even Qi Leren himself wasn’t sure. But if you didn't work hard...

Qi Leren tensed his face slightly. He looked at Ning Zhou, who had taken on too much burden, and thought: If you don't work hard, you will only sink forever into your destiny.

One day he would untie Ning Zhou and make him happy. Happy and free.

He believed that someday, this day would come.

-----

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[cinaja]

Before the Wall part 60

Masterlist

----

Queen Andromache of Angolere is no stranger to anger. Like most humans, she has never been short of reasons to be angry, and the last seven years of war, for all that they have improved the general situation, have done little to ease that. The general unfairness of life, arrogant allies, hypocritical assholes, people who hate her for being mortal – she’s had to deal with it all.

In all those years, she has never been this angry, though. Never felt this close to combusting. It’s like she swallowed a lump of magma and it’s not lying in her stomach, burning her up from the inside. Even two days after the fact, her anger shows no sign of lessening. Instead, it only seems to grow worse, perhaps because she has not yet found an opportunity to let it out.

When the news arrived two days ago, she didn’t believe it. Outright refused to even consider it. More than five hundred thousand people dead in the blink of an eye – the numbers were too big to consider possible. The idea that Miryam, Drakon, and Mor, Mor especially, were all dead from one day to the next was too horrifying to consider. The notion of something as terrible as this happening after the war had already ended downright impossible. And there were no bodies, no way to be sure.

Andromache spent that entire day curled up in her rooms, first trying to convince herself that this had been some terrible mistake, then struggling to come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t. This was real.

The second set of news arrived that evening, chasing her out of her hiding place. The messages from four separate sources – three spies and the person in charge of Telique’s wards – arriving at roughly the same time, all brought the same news: What happened had been no terrible accident, no tragedy with no one to blame. It had been planned and brought about by their own allies. Shey. The Autumn Court. Others as well, many of them unnamed.

Again, Andromache refused to believe it. In general, it is her firm belief that one can never have too low an opinion of the Fae, but this… this still went too far. She could not wrap her mind around it, could not understand how anyone could do this.

Like most people in the Alliance, Andromache was well aware that Shey saw Miryam as a threat. But what she could not imagine no matter how hard she tried was what might have caused the level of hatred that would have been necessary to do something like this. Miryam had, as far as Andromache knew, never done anything that might have given her allies cause to hate her. Dislike, perhaps, but not hate. She certainly gave Shey and cause to hate so fiercely that her death wasn’t enough to satisfy him, that he had to have her killed in the cruellest way possible, killing most of the people she cared about, thousands of innocents, in the process and destroying what she spent most of her life working for.

“I don’t think it was hatred,” Nakia said when Andromache voiced her thoughts to her. “I think he just didn’t care. He wanted Miryam dead – everyone else was just collateral damage. Expendable.”

That was when the anger started.

Now, thirty-one hours later, Andromache feels ready to combust with the force of it. Still, her hands are surprisingly steady as she closes the straps of her armour. There will be an Alliance meeting in half an hour, the first one since Miryam and Drakon (and Mor, although no one but Andromache seems to care much about that crucial detail) died, and Andromache intends to use the opportunity to make the Fae regret it.

Her and the other humans met yesterday to agree on a plan. What they came up with isn’t ideal in Andromache’s mind – it doesn’t involve Shey dying painfully, which is truly a shame. It’s the best they could do in their situation, though, and Andromache sincerely hopes their demands will make the Fae regret their actions.

With one last look into the mirror, Andromache straightens and stalks out of the room. Her steps are firm as she walks through the palace’s halls towards the meeting chamber. A lucky side effect of the anger, she supposes. It doesn’t leave space for any other emotions. Otherwise, she would probably be dissolved in tears, unable to move or function. But even so, she can barely bear to think of Miryam and Drakon, and cannot think of Mor at all without feeling like someone punched her in the chest.

By the time she reaches the meeting chamber, it is already filled halfway. Usually, councilmembers would be chatting with each other before the meeting, the room buzzing with activity, but today, silence reins in the chamber. The tense atmosphere can almost be felt physically, like the air is thick as water and pressing anyone inside the room down with its weight.

Quietly, Andromache takes her seat. The silence is only broken by the ticking of the clock that has been places on the opposite wall. She watches the hand creep forward as more and more people arrive. The time when the meeting was set to begin is reached and passed without anyone stirring. Andromache realizes that everyone at the table is waiting for someone to open the meeting, but Miryam isn’t there and Andromache isn’t inclined to step in for her as she usually does.

Eventually, it is Shey who opens the meeting. When he starts spouting nonsense about what a “terrible tragedy” Miryam’s and Drakon’s death was (he doesn’t mention any of the other people who died) or how “devastated” he was by the news, Andromache immediately regrets not opening the meeting herself. When he starts talking about how much Miryam did for the Alliance and the war effort in general, Andromache briefly contemplates getting up and punching him in the face. It might help take the edge off her anger, but their plan is a different one and Andromache is forced to stick to it.

Finally, Shey seems to be done with his monologue of faked mourning and changes the subject. “Sad as we all are,” he says, “I think Miryam and Drakon, more than anyone else, would want us to focus on the future instead of dwelling on the past.”

Never mind. Andromache is actually going to punch him. “I think they mostly wouldn’t want to be dead along with thousands of their people, you fucking asshole,” she mutters, balling her hands into fists.

Shey’s eyes jump to her, narrowing slightly, but he seems to decide that she isn’t worthy of a reply. “I believe the treaty detailing what should happen now that the war is over is all but ready. All that’s left to do is to sign it.”

“If you think any of us are going to sign that contract after what happened, you’ve lost your mind,” Andromache snaps, louder this time. “Why would we want to work with any of you after this?”

Shey is far too well-trained to show any reaction, but Andromache hopes the bastard is shocked. He probably didn’t expect the stupid little mortals to figure out what he did.

“I don’t – “ he begins, but Andromache is already on her feet. The other human councilmembers rise with her.

“This Alliance is over,” she says, voice biting. “As far as I’m concerned, you can all go drown in an ocean.”

With that, she turns towards the door. As one, the human members of the Alliance walk out of the room. No one makes a move to stop them, no one even says a word. The Fae just remain sitting where they are, looking around the table like they are waiting for someone to find the words to fix the crack that is running through their alliance.

Had Miryam been here, she would have been the one to speak out now. She would have found the right words, maybe even managed to convince them all to keep working together. For the sake of the treaty she wanted so badly, she would probably have been willing to excuse even her own murder.

It’s really too bad for the Fae that they had Miryam killed. Because without her, there is no one there to stop the Alliance from shattering into a million pieces.

Without looking back, Andromache stalks out of the meeting chamber. When she returns to her rooms, she finds Mor sitting on her bed.

----

Mor never planned to simply vanish without a word to anyone, certainly not for an entire week. When first left the Black Land and winnowed straight to the Night Court, she only wanted to stay for a few hours, maybe spend the night in the cabin in the mountains to calm herself before returning to Telique.

But then, almost against her own will, she had found herself staying longer and longer. The cabin was so peaceful, and with each day she stayed, the thought of going back became more daunting. Going back would mean facing what Miryam had done, facing their argument. Probably facing Miryam herself. For all that she knew hiding would only make things worse in the long run, she simply hadn’t found it in herself to return.

So instead, she stayed. She visited Rhys a few times. Sat on the couch by the fire and read. Emptied bottle after bottle of wine and did her best not to think about water turning to blood, ice raining from the sky and the look on Miryam’s face before she left her standing alone in the sand. She didn’t want to return at all, but after a week, there was no way to put it off any further, not if she didn’t want to risk worrying her friends in Telique.

It might already have been too long, Mor thinks as she watches Andromache freeze in the doorway, staring at her like she is a ghost. Maybe she should have sent a letter. But surely Miryam told Andromache about what happened, and knowing that, it should have been clear to anyone that she was safe.

She opens her mouth to say something, but before she gets the chance, Andromache snaps out of her paralysis. Letting out a sound that sounds a bit like that of a wounded animal, she rushes towards Mor and sweeps her up in a hug. Her body is shaking, and Mor can feel her damp cheek against her neck. Awkwardly, she begins patting Andromache’s back.

“I’m alright,” she whispers, not entirely understanding why Andromache is this distraught. She wasn’t in any danger, Andromache must have known that. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Andromache lets go of her and holds her at arm’s length so that she can study her. She is still clinging on to Mor’s arms, though, like she is scared to let go.

“How did you get out?” She asks.

Mor frowns. She doesn’t entirely understand the question. “I winnowed,” she says, then quickly adds, “I’m sorry for not writing. I just… I just needed space.”

Now, it is Andromache who seems confused. “What do you mean?” She asks.

Mor can’t help the sinking feeling that they are not entirely on the same page. Could it be that Miryam didn’t tell her about the argument? She wouldn’t have had any reason to keep that information back, though.

“We argued,” she says hesitantly. “I just…” She shrugs. “With what Miryam did… I couldn’t stand it, and she wouldn’t stop. We got into a fight over it. And then I left.”

Andromache stands and stares at her, completely unblinking. Then, slowly, she lets her arms drop to her sides. “What Miryam did?” She repeats, voice dangerously soft. “What Miryam did?”

“Yes, what Miryam did!” Mor replies forcefully. She can’t believe that Andromache seems to be taking Miryam’s side on this. “She burned down an entire country, Andromache! Thousands of people died. She – “

“You’re acting like she did it for fun!” Andromache cuts her off. “There were reasons.”

“What reasons are good enough to murder thousands?” Mor asks, throwing her hands up into the air in desperation. “You weren’t there, Andromache. You don’t know what it was like. This was the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen, and Miryam happily allowed it to happen.”

“Well, then you’ll be relieved to know that Miryam is dead,” Andromache snaps.

The words hit Mor like a punch to the stomach. She actually stumbles back a step, gasping. “What?” She whispers.

“Yes,” Andromache says, her voice cutting as a blade. “Her, Drakon and everyone else.”

No. No. It isn’t possible. None of them were in danger when she left. Miryam was just in the process of single-handedly taking down the entire country, with an army of thousands with her to protect her. She was days away from winning – and actually did win, from the last news Mor heard from an enraged Rhys who complained endlessly about the war ending before he had a chance to kill Amarantha.

They couldn’t have died. They couldn’t have.

Oh Cauldron. Her last conversation with Miryam and Drakon was an argument that ended with Mor storming off. She doesn’t remember what she said to them, only that she was furious and desperate, and that they were both yelling at each other and then Mor left. She left them alone and then they died and she…

Mor presses a hand to her stomach, trying to reign in a sob. “I…” She whispers, but doesn’t manage to finish the sentence. She promised to protect Miryam. And then she left. And Miryam died.

“Get out,” Andromache says, voice still deadly soft.

Mor starts shaking her head. “No, I…”

“What Miryam did?” Andromache throws her words back at her with enough anger that Mor actually flinches. “You’re no better than the others.” With that, she pulls open the door. “And now get out.”

Words are escaping Mor. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. Tears are burning in her eyes, blurring her vision. Andromache is still staring at her, gaze hard, and so Mor ducks her head and rushes out of the room.

----

Andromache is shaking with fury. Pain and sorrow will come later, she knows, once she has calmed down enough for the reality of what just happened to sink through, but for the moment, she is just angry. Angry with the entire fucking world, but mostly with Mor, because from her, Andromache expected better.

How could she be so stupidly narrow-minded? What Miryam did. She sounded just like all these other Fae who called Miryam’s actions horrifying and then turned around and had her and five hundred thousand innocents murdered. What Miryam did. What about what the Fae did, now and for centuries prior?

She needs some way to let the anger out, or she might actually explode. With swift steps, she stalks through the room and to the cupboard that holds cups and plates. She is still aware enough of herself to avoid the expensive, gilded ones meant for formal occasions and sticks to the simpler pottery for private dinners.

One by one, she pulls them out of the cupboard and hurls them against a nearby wall, watching them shatter into a million pieces with grim satisfaction, hating the fact that this pointless act of rage is all she can do.

How she wishes she had Miryam’s abilities. If only she was able to turn blood into water, make the sky rein ice and fire and command the sun to stay away as she sees fit. Oh, how she would make them all pay for what they did. She’d show them horrifying.

A knock sounds at the door, interrupting Andromache’s fantasies of setting Shey’s palace on fire. She spins around, dropping the plate she had just pulled out of the shelf, and stalks over to the door. This better not be Mor…

It isn’t. When Andromache pulls open the door so hard it bangs against the wall, she instead comes face to face with Nakia.

“Oh,” she says, awkwardly running a hand through her hair. “Nakia.”

“Were you expecting someone else?” Nakia asks drily. She glances over her shoulder into the room and raises her eyes at the mess. “Someone to help you clean up, perhaps?”

Andromache can feel her cheeks heating. “I will clean that myself,” she says. She won’t make any of the maids clean up a mess she created on purpose.

“Do that. It will have to wait, though. For the moment, you are needed for a meeting. The Fae asked for a meeting; their representative is already there.”

Andromache groans.

--

Andromache would have liked nothing better than to refuse the meeting outright and tell the Fae exactly where they can shove their offers, but unfortunately, that is not an option. There are matters to be discussed, and there is no getting around that necessity.

It was agreed well in advance that Andromache would represent the humans for the meeting, as Angolere is the country whose leader is usually in charge of foreign politics. Andromache only finds out who the Fae sent when she steps into the meeting chamber, though: It is Zeku.

Some part of Andromache realizes that this is likely meant as a peace offering. Ever since the founding of the Alliance, Zeku was one of the Fae who worked together with the humans most closely. He was Miryam’s most prominent Fae ally, her, him and Andromache spent more hours than she can count sitting together over proposals and strategies. The Fae likely assumed his presence would appease Andromache, and under different circumstances, it might have. As it is, though, his presence is just another slap to the face.

“Your Majesty,” Zeku greets her, bowing deeply.

“Zeku.”

Greeting him by name instead of title is a capital insult, but Andromache stopped caring about the Faes’ rules for politeness the moment these rules didn’t stop them from murdering more than five hundred thousand people. All these rules ever did was bar anyone who didn’t have a Fae noble’s education from being taken seriously in their political meetings. Andromache played by their rules for far too long.

Zeku ignores the insult and takes the seat opposite her. He opens his mouth to speak, but Andromache cuts in before he gets the chance. Every moment she has to spend in the presence of someone like him is one too much.

“To make this clear right at the beginning,” she says, “I’m not here to play games. There are some issues that need to be settled, and I have no interest in spending more time than absolutely necessary in your presence, so I’d appreciate if we could deal with this as quickly as possible.”

Zeku sighs. “Alright, then,” he says, “But before we begin, just allow me to say how terribly sorry I am about what happened.”

Yeah, sure. She believes that right away. Once that conversation is over, though, he might actually be sorry.

“Well, I believe it ought to be clear to anyone that the continuation of the Alliance is no longer possible. The treaty we worked on is a thing of the past, as are any agreements we came to. We can no longer trust you, and so working together is no longer an option.”

Zeku, at the very least, does her the favour of not pretending he doesn’t know what she is talking about. “I know what happened was unforgivable,” he says, “but Miryam wouldn’t want – “

“Don’t,” Andromache cuts him off, voice sharp as a whip. “Don’t you dare talk to me about what Miryam would have wanted.”

Zeku lifts his hands as if warding off a physical attack. “Alright,” he says. “Forgive me. But the point remains that we need to work together. The situation is far from ideal, but together, you and I could still turn it around.”

Andromache lets out a sharp laugh. “You and I? Together?” She shakes her head, laughing again. “No, thank you. With what happened to the last human who worked together with you, I have little interest. Maybe if you wanted this alliance, you should have made sure she stayed alive.”

“I had no involvement – “ Zeku begins, but Andromache cuts him off.

“Oh, spare me,” she snaps. “Miryam might been willing to listen to your explanation. She might have played along with your game, pretended she believed and trusted you and maybe even agreed to work together with you again in spite of everything. For peace. She really wanted that, you know? A world where humans and Fae could live together in peace and equality. For that, she might even have been willing to look past what your friends did. But I am not Miryam.”

“I am aware,” Zeku says quietly.

“Maybe, but you don’t seem to understand what it means.” None of the Fae ever understood, and they never bothered to try, either. “You and your Fae friends always thought that Miryam was the only one of us worthy of being taken seriously, didn’t you? That the rest of us were meek and harmless and unimportant, and that without Miryam, we would be lost. Because she was the only one who could play by these stupid rules for politics you had designed to keep anyone who isn’t Fae nobility from being taken seriously in politics. She could smile and talk and behave just right, and she had magic, and so you took her seriously and dismissed the rest of us.”

“I never dismissed you,” Zeku says. “And you were always quite willing to take a backseat while Miryam dealt with everything, so you have little grounds to complain about any conclusions people draw from that.”

Andromache presses her lips together. How dare he bring this up, act like what happened was somehow their fault for making Miryam get involved? As if the human leadership at the beginning of the war willingly decided that an eighteen-year-old was the perfect fit for emissary. The entire reason they had to give Miryam that position was that there had been no one else. Learning Fae politics was a matter of years, and the humans lacked diplomats skilled in the rules the Fae so valued. That they found someone who was able to fill the position at all was a minor miracle in itself.

She doesn’t say that they only let Miryam take the lead because she was the only one able to navigate the Fae political landscape that had been so skilfully designed to keep anyone but them out, though, because that would only be one part of the truth. The unimportant part, for this specific conversation.

“None of us ever wanted to work with the Fae, did you know that?” She gives him a sharp smile. “We didn’t trust you. It was Miryam who convinced us to give it a try. She said we needed allies, and that there would be Fae territories that would be willing to help us.”

“And she was right,” Shey says. “We helped you win this war.”

“Yes,” Andromache says softly. “Miryam was right – she managed to secure us the alliance she had promised, she managed to make things work, and so we went along with her plans. We ignored the countless offences your side committed against us because Miryam had her strategy and it was working. And then, when she insisted that the only way to get peace to work after the war was to find a way to work together, to build bridges between our people, we went along with that as well. Because we trusted her, because you seemed to respect her.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “Do you understand now?” She asks. “We weren’t scared and meek without Miryam. She was the one who convinced us to work with you in the first place. But then, you killed her and you made it entirely clear that our lives are worthless to you, that no matter how much we try to work with you, you will never see us as equal.”

Zeku nods slowly. His face is grave. Now, he finally seems to understand. “So what now?” He asks.

Andromache leans back in her chair. “Miryam wanted to build bridges,” she says. “We were willing to go along with that, willing to give it a try, but then you killed her. So now what you are getting is a wall.”

----

Shey is waiting in one of the private meeting chambers. He is lounging on one of the chairs, idly flipping through the pages of a book that he snaps shut when Zeku enters.

“Your Highness,” he says with a slight smile, sitting up straighter. “How did the meeting with Their Majesties go?”

In answer, Zeku takes a slip of paper out of the pocket of his coat and throws it onto the table in front of Shey. “A list of discrete assassins and ways to contact them, since you don’t seem to know about the possibility of discrete assassinations yet,” he says. “You might want to look into it to save us any further scandals.”

Shey very deliberately places his book on the table. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” he says.

“Kindly do me the favour and explain that to Andromache and the other human queens. That might be amusing.” He shakes his head. “They know. And they are none too pleased, if you will allow the understatement.”

Shey, at the very least, does him the favour of not denying his actions a second time. After the meeting he just had, he doesn’t think he would be able to stand Shey’s games. He just shrugs. “Forgive me if I’m not shaking with fear at the prospect.”

The longer this conversation lasts, the more does Zeku understand Andromache’s feelings towards Fae nobility and their politics. To think that there was a time when he enjoyed these games… Now, all he can feel is disgust.

“You went too far,” he says, shaking his head. “This time, you really went too far, Shey.”

Shey waves him off. “It was a neat solution,” he says. “Everyone who had any cause for interest in Miryam died with her.”

“There are literally millions of humans who have a cause for interest in Miryam.”

Shey snorts. “Oh, not these mortals and their exaggerated sense of solidarity or whatever they call it, acting like any harm done to one of them is somehow a direct attack on all of them. If you ask me, they are just using it as an excuse to make themselves into the victims and give themselves the moral high ground in any given situation. Or do you see any Fae complaining about Drakon and his soldiers getting killed?”

That he thinks this is a negative reflection on the humans, not the Fae, probably says everything that needs to be said about what kind of person he is. Zeku doesn’t want to imagine what it will do to the Alliance – the entire Continent – if he gets put in charge. Had Miryam only been a little bit smarter, a bit more willing to play to win… She had everything necessary to leave her in charge of the Continent after the war ended. But she didn’t have the nerve to go through with it, and how did it end? Her dead, everything she was working for in shambles and the Continent in Shey’s hands.

Zeku could scream at how stupidly unnecessary all of it is.

Instead, he merely offers the barest shrug at Shey’s comment. “Regardless of their motives, our human allies seem out for your head over this.”

“So what if they do?” Shey asks. “Miryam is dead. Without her, there is little they can do.”

“They seem to disagree,” Zeku says. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, he can’t help but feel a little smug. “Andromache says they have proof. And that she will happily make it public should you not meet their demands.” He smiles slightly. “Not only will you and your friends be revealed as honourless in front of the entire Continent for betraying your own allies, I also imagine that some people will be rather cross with you for murdering hundreds of thousands of innocent humans after we justified that entire war with wanting to save the humans.”

Shey doesn’t reply. Maybe he just considers for the first time that justifying a war with wanting the protect the humans and then turning around to casually murder five hundred thousand of them was not a particularly smart move. Not to mention that over the past years, Miryam became the face of the entire war effort, which not only brought her a whole lot of popularity, but also made her into a symbol. And turning against the symbol for the war they just won is political suicide.

For a brief moment, Shey’s calm demeanour cracks as he seems to realize that he just made a catastrophic mistake. Then, he catches himself, summoning a calm expression again.

“What is their price?” He asks, voice entirely business-like.

Zeku wonders what he is hoping for. What price would, in his mind, be able to make up for a betrayal like this, the loss of thousands of lives? Knowing Shey, he probably doesn’t imagine it will be too much. A bit of money, maybe, or land. Trading rights and favourable treaties. A small price, as is appropriate for lives that were entirely worthless to him.

“Half of our world,” Zeku counters calmly. And yes, he does enjoy the look on Shey’s face at the reply. “They are withdrawing their consent to the treaty I worked out with Andromache, Miryam and Drakon.” Well, mostly Drakon. “They no longer trust us to live side by side with them, so they have come up with their own solution: They want to divide the Continent in two. One half to the them, the other to us, and a wall in the middle. They’ll take the south.”

For a few heartbeats, Shey says nothing at all. Then, he asks very slowly, “Have these mortal fools completely lost their minds?”

Zeku shrugs again. “They don’t trust us anymore, not after what happened, and I honestly cannot blame them.”

“And they truly think they will get away with that?” Shey lets out a laugh and jumps to his feet. “I’ll have them assassinated before I meet these ridiculous demands.”

“I am sure they have plans for that scenario,” Zeku says. “And should this be made public, I imagine they would have quite a few supporters. Miryam was very popular, as you know, and you might find many Fae care more than you anticipated. Especially since there were also so many Fae amongst those you had killed.”

Shey wrinkles his nose in disdain. “Lesser faeries,” he says.

And what am I? Zeku thinks, fighting the sudden surge of anger. Anger at Shey. At himself. After all, he always knew what kind of person Shey was, and still, he chose the way he did. Withdrew support for Miryam and hoped… yes, what did he hope for? That Shey’s disregard for human and faerie lives wouldn’t carry on into his style of ruling? That he would follow through with the promises Miryam had made after replacing her?

Maybe he should have risked sticking up for Miryam. Should have made it clearer to her what was at stake, helped her work out a way to come out of this on top. Instead, he took the safe route and withdrew support, marked his wager in working with her down as failed and cut his losses.

A mistake. All of it was a mistake.

You’re a coward, Miryam’s voice says in his head. He can still see her so clearly, standing in that hallway with tears in her eyes and fury on her face. I hope this haunts you.

A bitter smile twists Zeku’s mouth. It will, he thinks. Don’t you worry, Miryam. It will.

“You would do better to do as they say,” Zeku says. “Because if you don’t – or if you get the brilliant idea to make them disappear the way you did with Miryam – I can assure you that you will have a problem. Should it come to war, I will be the first one to side with them against you, but I will not be the last.”

Shey stares at him in disbelief. He opens his mouth as if to reply, then closes it again. Of course. He isn’t used to getting push-back.

“You went too far,” Zeku repeats. “And it will always be my greatest shame that I didn’t stop you sooner. But if you think I will let you take this any further, you are dead-wrong.”

If him and Andromache were still allies, he might have begged her to allow him and his people to join them on their side of the wall that is soon to be built. But he lost that alliance the moment he decided to cut ties with Miryam and he knows perfectly well that there is no getting it back.

He played. And he lost. And now, he will have to pay.

----

Without corpses, there is no real need to hold a funeral. Unless, of course, you are Fae and want to make a grand gesture about how terribly sorry you are about the death of the people you had killed, and so the Fae seem to have made it their mission to hold the most dramatic funeral possible for Miryam, Drakon and the others, perhaps in a vain attempt to cover up their guilt.

Had the idea come from anyone else, Andromache might even have been willing to admit that she thinks holding some kind of ceremony is the right thing to do. As things are, though, it only feels like a cheap publicity stunt. Hundreds of thousands of pyres erected, one for every single person who died during that battle, all of them lit at the same time – this isn’t a show of respect, it’s a political spectacle and Andromache hates everything about it.

The worst part is that she wasn’t even able to argue against the idea, not without making it seem like she doesn’t want to honour Miryam and the other dead. So instead, she has decided to use the entire situation to her advantage. Shey wants to use this funeral to improve his image? Fine, then Andromache will ruin that plan as thoroughly as she can.

The good thing about ceremonies like that is that everything, down to the choice of clothes, sends a message. Shey has apparently decided to show to the entire world how much he mourns Miryam’s death and respected her. He is wearing black with blue details, showing his mourning and pretending to the entire world that he respected Miryam, looked up to her.

Andromache and the other human councilmembers appear entirely in red.

Their choice of clothes draws stares as they arrive at the ceremony together. Miryam wore red details on her dress for Jurian’s funeral, but that was a different matter – then, at least everyone knew who she wanted to get revenge at. Now, with the war over and Ravenia, who is officially responsible for every death that occurred, dead, no one understands why the entire human fraction of the Alliance is publicly declaring that they want revenge.

Shey steps in Andromache’s way before she reaches her place at the front of the assembled crowd. His face is almost as red as Andromache’s dress. “What do you think you are doing?” He snaps.

“Whatever are you talking about?” Andromache asks, then glances down at her dress like she is only now realizing what his problem might be. “Oh, that. Well, I thought the choice of colour in a dress should reflect our feelings regarding the death.” She frowns at Shey. “Although you don’t seem to have taken that all too seriously yourself. What colour says ‘I had the deceased assassinated’ again?”

“Will you be quiet?” Shey hisses, looking around frantically to see if anyone heard. “I agreed to your demands, and in return, you were meant to keep your silence. If you aren’t able to do that, our agreement is over.”

“You are the one who made this funeral into a farce!” Andromache snaps back. “This isn’t an opportunity for you to improve your image and if you had any sense of decency whatsoever, you would never have tried.”

With that, she shoulders past him and goes to take her place with the other humans.

“Remarkable show of restraint,” Nakia says by way of greeting. “I thought you’d break his nose.”

Andromache shrugs. “Might still, depending on his bad his speech is.”

The first speech isn’t Shey’s, though. It is hers.

Andromache struggled against the suggestion that she should hold the opening speech. To her, it felt like she would be assuming a position she never held. She was a close friend with both Miryam and Drakon, yes, but she was never closest to either of them, and she didn’t know most of the others who died at all. It was only when she realized that anyone who was closer to them than her had died in that battle that she agreed to hold the speech.

Slowly, she steps forward, red dress shifting around her feet. She will not have to light any of the pyres as would be human tradition; they will be magically lit at the end of her speech with her only needing to give a signal. It feels wrong, somehow. Pyres are meant to be lit by hand, the person who was closest to them doing them that final service and bidding them goodbye in doing so. Magic takes away all of the intimacy of the moment.

Everything about this funeral-that-isn’t-one feels wrong. It is unworthy. Miryam and Drakon and all these countless others would have deserved better.

They would also have deserved a better speech than the one Andromache ends up giving. She did her best to find the proper words, she truly did. What point is there in talking about all the things that were wonderful about them, as if putting into words all that she lost will somehow make it better. Why would she tell the world about all the things Miryam and Drakon and the others would have wanted and deserved from the future, as if the one thing they would have wanted and deserved wasn’t to be alive. How can she call this a tragedy when she knows that in truth, it was a crime?

The only words Andromache wants to say are ones made from anger, condemning the ones responsible for these deaths, but those, she cannot speak, and there are no other words that might mean anything in the face of such a terrible, senseless crime. She still tries, and she fails, and she knows she does even as she holds her speech.

She is relieved when she is finally done and gets to return to her place. The pyres are lit by magic and Andromache tries to comfort herself with the fact that there are no bodies, anyways, that Miryam and Drakon and all the others are dead and will never know about the farce that is their funeral. It is no comfort at all, though.

The rest of the ceremony passes far too slowly. Andromache stands in her place, stares at the flickering flames and ignores the speeches the others hold. She only notices it is finally over when people start moving around her. She leaves her place as well, wandering around aimlessly for a bit. She doesn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want to eat, or drink. She cannot stand this.

Andromache turns away from the ceremony and stalks off into the darkness. Away from the crowds and the noise and the fire. Away from the empty pyres and the Fae pretending they care about the deaths that occurred.

For the first few steps, her posture remains stiff, her steps fast and firm with anger. But as she walks through the night, her anger seems to dissolve like smoke in the wind. It leaves her feeling cold and alone. Empty. Soon, her vision is blurry with tears and she is stumbling more than walking.

How could everything have gone wrong so quickly? Mere days ago, she was giddy with happiness, drinking to victory and a bright future with the others, but now… Now, Miryam and Drakon and so many others are dead, and she cannot imagine ever speaking to Mor again, much less spending the future together as they planned. Everything she had wanted for her future, blown apart in one terrible day.

She lets herself drop to the ground, not caring if the damp grass stains her dress, rests her head on her knees and cries.

There is a soft rustling in front of her. Andromache is on her feet within moments, hand going for the dagger she has hidden under her dress. She is suddenly acutely aware that she is all alone out here, no guards in sight, and almost unarmed.

“Who’s there?” She calls, slowly drawing her dagger.

No one answers, but there is another rustle. This time, Andromache can place where the noise is coming from. She looks down and finds a falcon sitting on a small rock a few feet away from her, staring at her from amber eyes. Andromache stares back.

Birds usually avoid people. They do not land mere feet away from them, or remain sitting this still. Andromache points her dagger at the bird, trying to shoo it away, but it merely cocks its head to the side and hops a step closer to her. There is something fastened around its neck.

Rationally, Andromache knows that there are several people who could be responsible for this. Miryam wasn’t the only witch in the world, and even discounting people who are able to control animals, there’s always the chance of some Fae or another being able to shapeshift into one to use its form to trick her. Rationally, Andromache knows perfectly well that it is a terrible idea to approach a weird animal with some item fastened around its neck. Unfortunately, that knowledge is overridden completely by the fact that the only person she ever met who had a particular affinity for animals was Miryam, and Miryam favoured falcons. And they didn’t find a body.

Slowly, Andromache steps towards the falcon. It doesn’t make a move to flee, merely looks up at her. Andromache crouches down and reaches for it. If I get ambushed now, that will be entirely on me, she things as she carefully unties the thin bit of rope fastened around its neck.

A small amulet falls into her waiting palm. It appears to be bronze, with a blue stone in the middle. Andromache frowns down at it, then at the falcon who is still watching her.

“And what am I supposed to do now?” She asks.

The bird clicks its beak and hops from one foot to the other. If there is any message hidden in that reaction, Andromache fails to understand it. She turns her attention back on the amulet, turns it around in her fingers. Nothing happens, but she notices that the stone seems slightly loose.

“What are the odds of me getting cursed from this?” She asks softly.

The bird offers no reply, and so Andromache reaches for the stone and turns it around once. There is a flash of light. When it recedes, Andromache is no longer standing on the soft forest floor, but on hard earth. She stumbles forward and might have fallen had there not been a hand ready to steady her.

Slowly, she looks up. Miryam and Drakon are standing in front of her, both very much alive.

----

An hour after the official part of the ceremony has ended, Mor is already drunk. She has foregone the food entirely and instead gone to the drinks directly after the last speech ended, and then proceeded to methodically empty one wine bottle after another.

By now, she is three-quarters through the third bottle and a merciful numbness in beginning to set in. Everything still sucks, but it no longer feels like someone is twisting a knife in her chest. She even manages to look over at Andromache, who looks particularly beautiful and just as furious in her red dress and ignores Mor entirely, without feeling like she is dying. Maybe with a few more bottles, it will stop hurting altogether.

She drains the rest of her bottle and makes for the table with the wine again, slightly unsteady on her feet. Once, she stumbles over her own feet and crashes into one of the other guests. With a mumbled “sorry” she continues on, finally reaching the safe haven of the table. She clings on to it with one hand as she carefully places the empty bottle on the table and reaches for a new one. Bounty in hand, she retreats back into the crowd.

The fires are still burning, and the light stings her eyes. So many fires… So many dead people… Miryam’s face flashes in her mind, the coldness in her eyes as they last spoke. Drakon telling her she went too far. Andromache, who isn’t dead but seems to wish Mor was, telling her she is no better than the rest.

She opens the bottle and goes back to drinking. Halfway through that bottle, the pain dulls to a soft throb and she begins to feel better about herself. Yes, everything is all horrible, but she sort of feels like she is floating, and the fires are very pretty. Like little glittering jewels.

Maybe she should talk to Andromache now. The prospect no longer feels as daunting as it did an hour ago. She will talk to her and tell her… well, she will think of something to tell her.

Mor drains the last of her bottle, letting it drop to the ground, and tries to stand up on her toes to scan the crowd for Andromache. Her sense of balance isn’t entirely up to the task anymore, though, because she begins to sway dangerously and stumbles. She would have fallen had there not been a pair of hands taking her by the shoulders and pushing her upright again.

“Oops,” Mor mutters.

The hands let go of her shoulders but remain nearby, as if waiting to catch her should she fall again. Mor looks around for the owner of the hands, finding a dark-skinned Fae standing in front of her. It takes her a few moments to work through the haze in her mind and place his face, then she smiles slowly.

“Helion. Want some wine?” She wants to offer him her bottle, but then realizes it’s not in her hands anymore. She looks around for it until she remembers that she dropped it earlier. “I’ll get us a new one.” Cauldron, forming words is difficult. Her tongue isn’t cooperating the way it should and the ground seems to have started swaying under her feet. She stumbles and Helion grips her by the shoulder again.

“No, thank you,” he says. “And you should probably switch to water for the rest of the evening, too.”

Mor shakes her head. “Spoilsport,” she mutters but doesn’t resist as Helion starts leading her towards the food.

“’m looking for An…” She stumbles over the name. Frowning with concentration, she tries again. “Andromache.” It comes out almost correctly. “She was very mean to me,” she adds. “Not nice at all. Not fair. Wasn’ my fault.”

Helion raises one eyebrow. “I think she left already,” he says, handing her a plate.

Mor looks down at the steaming food – and bursts out crying. It’s all so terribly sad. The entire world is sad and bad and hopeless, and Andromache hates her, and Miryam and Drakon are dead and it’s all because of her.

“’s my fault,” she mutters, words coming out even more unclearly now. “I was supposed to… to keep them safe and…”

Helion wraps an arm around her shoulders. His arm is very warm and very nice, and it makes more cry even harder.

“It isn’t your fault,” he says. “You couldn’t have known what would happen when you left – no one could have anticipated this.”

Mor buries her face in his jacked, sniffing. “But I said…” she begins. She would have continued the sentence, would have told him about all the horrible things she said as well as she remembers, but her mouth stops cooperating.

“Alright,” Helion says, and Mor feels herself lifted off her feet and picked up. “I’m bringing you to your rooms now, and tomorrow…” Helion hesitates. “Well, I’m sure things will look better tomorrow.”

There is a hint of bitterness in his voice, like he doesn’t believe what he is saying himself, but in her state, Mor doesn’t notice. She only vaguely registers that she is being carried up some stares and gently tucked into bed before she slips off into merciful oblivion.

----

For a few heartbeats, Andromache merely stands frozen in place and stares. A part of her wants to scream at them, shout her fury because how dare they scare her like that? Another part just wants to hug them, somehow convince herself that they are real.

“Andromache,” Miryam whispers and takes a step forward.

That breaks the spell. Andromache darts forward as well and wraps her arm around her neck. Hot tears sting on her cheeks.

“It’s alright,” Miryam whispers. “We’re alright.”

Andromache lets go of her and turns to hug Drakon. The first minutes after that are so hectic that Andromache only barely manages to keep track, the initial happiness giving way to fresh worry quickly. All three of them seem to be talking at once, questions and answers and more questions buzzing through the air. It would have gone far more quickly had they talked it through calmly, but they are all far from calm. Andromache can barely believe what she is hearing – the ocean parted, a battle on the ocean floor. It is a miracle that they all survived.

“Maybe we should go away from the camp for a bit,” Drakon suggests, nodding to the onlookers that have gathered.

“Good idea,” Andromache says, and Miryam, who has been unusually quiet after the initial excitement died down, nods as well.

They find a quiet place a bit away from the camp where the forest meets the ocean, only just within the bounds of the wards. Miryam leans against a tree, staring out at the ocean. Drakon sits down on the trunk of an upturned tree. Andromache remains standing.

“If you want, we can declare war that very day,” she says.

It’s an idea that has been passed back and forth between Nakia and Andromache ever since the news about what Shey did arrived. So far, they’ve always had to decide against it. They lack the military force to be able to successfully fight the Fae, and with so many of theirs newly freed from slavery, they cannot spare the resources. But with Miryam, who has shown herself capable of taking down entire countries by herself and who might be able to gather them support amongst the Fae… They would actually stand a chance.

Miryam doesn’t react at all, though. From the way she keeps staring at the ocean, unmoving, unblinking, Andromache almost thinks she didn’t hear her at all.

Drakon reacts, though. He spins around to her like she slapped him. “What?” He asks, managing to put all the disbelief in the world into the word.

“Declare war,” Andromache repeats. “That is the common reaction to a betrayal like this, isn’t it? Any Fae country on the Continent would do the same thing, so why shouldn’t we?”

“Because the only thing it would accomplish is get thousands of people killed and potentially undo years of work!” Drakon answers with more force than is usual for him. “What could you hope to accomplish?”

“What else could I do?” Andromache shoots back. “We need to react in some way, we can’t just allow them to walk all over us like that. They were willing to kill thousands of us. I wouldn’t expect you to understand – “

“Stop,” Miryam cuts her off, turning in a quick, precise motion away from the ocean. “They were willing to kill Drakon and his soldiers right alongside us – most of the people who actually did die were faeries.”

Andromache deflates slightly. She sighs and turns to Drakon. “Sorry,” she says. “I just…” She shrugs.

“You’re currently in the mood to strangle any Fae you come across?” Drakon suggests. “Understandable. No offence taken.”

Still, Miryam has a point. Maybe Andromache was wrong to draw the lines in this conflict simply as humans against Fae. In reality, the High Fae don’t have much more respect for faeries than for humans. There’s a total of two faerie rulers on the entire Continent, and for all that Shey just proved he didn’t care about killing thousands of humans to get what he wanted, he did the same to the faeries who were involved. Drakon’s status and the protection it should have offered stopped him as little as Miryam’s.

It’s an interesting thought. Isolated, it might be difficult for the humans to fight back, but if they were to work together with the faeries, if they realized that the differences between humans and faeries are far smaller than the ones between faeries and High Fae… An interesting thought indeed.

Unfortunately, Drakon’s thoughts don’t seem to go into that direction.

“War won’t make anything better, though,” he says. “This isn’t like this war where we had a clear, manageable goal: Ending slavery. That was simple. But how do you plan to win a war against the fact that they don’t see humans as equal?” He shakes his head. “Short of killing every one of them, what way is there to resolve this issue through war?”

He looks at Andromache like he expects her to say something. She remains silent. She hadn’t thought this far yet. Of course she doesn’t want to kill all Fae, not in the slightest. She doesn’t even hate them all, she just… How can Shey and the others get away with what they did?

“All a war would accomplish is kill millions of innocents,” Drakon says. “And we’ve already…” He shakes his head and starts over. “This war has already taken things so far. What lines are left that haven’t been crossed yet? And if we take this any further, if we now start a war with our former allies… it will tear this entire continent apart. And it will hardly even matter who wins, because either way, millions of innocent people will die and reconciliation or peace will be made impossible for generations to come.”

Andromache wrinkles her nose, but she is still unable to argue. That was also one of the reasons why Nakia especially argued against the idea of a military solution: To start a war now would mean to risk everything they have won.

“Drakon is right,” Miryam says. “War is not the solution. Too many innocents have already been dragged into this – I won’t allow for any more people to be made into collateral damage by jumping onto Shey’s game of trying to murder each other in the most catastrophic way possible.”

Andromache refrains from saying that this goes far beyond a political powerplay. She doesn’t want to argue with Miryam over something like that.

“The treaty is the best chance for peace we have,” Miryam says. “I won’t let Shey’s actions ruin that. I know circumstances are far from ideal, but we can still make it work.”

Andromache stares at her, not quite believing what she is hearing. After all that happened, how can Miryam still talk of her treaty? How does she not realize that this treaty died the second Shey betrayed them. Andromache wants to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she starts seeing sense. She has to forcefully remind herself that Miryam is likely still in shock from what happened and is desperately clinging to a solution that is no longer possible as a way to cope.

“That’s not happening,” she says as calmly as she can manage. “That treaty relied on mutual trust, and after what happened, I cannot see that coming about anytime soon.”

Miryam and Drakon both look like she slapped them. It actually makes Andromache feel bad for them. Her own stakes in that treaty were always low, she really mostly went along with it because Miryam and Drakon were so very convinced that it was the only way, but for them… She doesn’t want to imagine what it must feel like to watch a thing you believed in and spent years working for fall apart before your eyes.

“And what will you do instead?” Drakon asks.

“We have decided to split up the world. One half to the Fae, the other to the humans and a wall in the middle to keep us safe.”

Drakon frowns. “What kind of wall would that be?” He asks, but Miryam is staring at Andromache, wide-eyed.

“No,” she whispers. “No, Andromache. You cannot do that. Please. It isn’t necessary, there is still another way.”

The desperation on her face stings. Andromache wants nothing more than to give in, if only to wipe that look off her face, but she cannot. Not on this.

“I’m sorry,” she says, more softly this time. “But this is the way it is going to happen. You don’t want war, so I will not start one in your name. But after what happened, there cannot be peace either.”

Miryam shakes her head. Straightens. “Just give me one more chance,” she says. It’s the same tone she always has when she tries to convince people that she can handle a situation she cannot handle. “Let me talk to the Fae. I can still fix this.”

Andromache slowly shakes her head. “Are you out of your mind?” She asks. It is a struggle to keep her voice controlled. “They tried to kill you, Miryam. All of you. What do you think will happen if you go back?”

“This treaty needs to go through!” Miryam retorts. “This is important. It’s more important than… If we are to ever have peace, we need to find a way to live together. You – “

“Miryam stop,” Andromache snaps. Now, she actually does take her by the shoulders and shakes her slightly. “Do you truly want to die over this? Because this is what’s going to happen if you go back. They are going to kill you.”

“They already did,” Miryam mutters.

That throws Andromache off, but only for a moment. Chances are Miryam is just being dramatic, and if she wasn’t… well, then she will have to deal with that later.

“If you go back, you will die, and your death will be completely pointlessly,” she says, “You will not reach your goals, only get yourself killed. Is that truly what you want your life to be? Sixteen years as a slave, two years on the run and seven years of war. Killed at twenty-five in some pointless political struggle.”

Miryam starts to cry. Drakon makes to rise, but Andromache is faster, wrapping her arms around her.

“It doesn’t need to end like this,” she whispers. “You can still live, Miryam. You have won. Don’t just throw your life away like that.”

Miryam steps away from Andromache, already wiping her tears away again. She still looks completely miserable, though, as she lets herself drop onto the trunk next to Drakon.

“But what options do we have?” Drakon asks. He looks no less miserable than Miryam. “If we cannot go back, if we will never be safe after what happened, then what about the people in our camp? They are witnesses as much as we are. Some of these people have homes. Families. We have a home. We can’t just leave that, even if we had a way to vanish hundreds of thousands of people.”

Andromache bites her lip. She didn’t think of that yet. For the humans, she supposes she might be able to hide them amongst the other newly-freed slaves, since Fae never pay much attention to humans, but even then, there would be the problem of word of what Shey did getting around. And there is no hiding the Seraphim at all, not amongst the humans and not anywhere else. Miryam and Drakon alone might hope to hide somewhere, but what would the point be if their people were still left in danger?

She briefly contemplates saying that if they were to go to war, none of that would be a problem. But that would be a very cruel way to push Miryam and Drakon to take her side. Give up your home or agree to a war you know to be wrong is not a particularly fair choice, and certainly not one she should ask of her friends.

“We can’t just vanish,” Drakon continues. “And Andromache, you can’t just split the Continent in two and build a wall in the middle. How would that even work? Do you expect millions of people to get up and leave their countries to march to the other end of the Continent and settle down there? That’s a terrible idea, not to mention that the kind of wall you seem to be thinking of won’t be easy to get.”

Miryam seems distinctly uncomfortable in her skin. Apparently, she never told Drakon about the wall spell. Understandable, Andromache supposes. Until now, none of them ever thought that spell would become relevant.

“Let’s just assume that the wall is happening,” Andromache says. Let Miryam talk that one through with Drakon on her own. “The issue is what we do with you two.”

“No, that’s not the issue!” Miryam replies. “The issue is that this wall is a downright terrible idea and – “

“And not your choice to be made,” Andromache finishes. “The decision was unanimous, Miryam. I’m sorry, but even you cannot change that.”

Neither Miryam nor Drakon argue any further after this. Miryam merely reaches for Drakon’s hand, and then, they are sitting side by side in complete silence.

Andromache feels terrible about herself. The last thing she ever wanted was to hurt them with the solution she came up with, but there seems to be no way around it. She firmly believes that the wall is the only was to guarantee the humans’ safety in the long run, and for that to work out, Miryam, Drakon and their people need to disappear. It means that they will not get the future they wanted, and that Drakon and his people will have to give up their homes, and it is far from fair but Andromache doesn’t see a way around it so she simply stands around and stares down at her feet in shame.

Finally, it is Miryam who breaks the silence. “I think I know somewhere we could go,” she says softly. “Somewhere they would never find us. Where we would be safe.”

----

Tags: @femtopulsed @croissantcitysucks @aileywrites

[torikengel]

Thomas Hewitt x Reader (Part 10)

When you opened your eyes, the sun was already rising. You felt a pleasant warmth exuding from beside you. You rubbed your eyes to get a clear vision of what, or well who was in bed with you. You saw Thomas peacefully snoring by your side. Then the memories from the last night flooded your mind as you realized you were still both naked. Your first reaction was to panic, but then you noticed something you ignored before. Something on Thomas’s body. You had a clear view of his arm in daylight, and as you inspected his skin, you saw scars... not a few of them, but a whole bunch. These scars covered his whole arm, some were deep, and some looked quite new.

“Oh my god...” you gasped at your discovery. Your heart ached for Thomas. Right now, you had a strong urge to protect him, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. You were still a victim, but you felt less like one after every moment spent with Thomas. Maybe you felt a sense of responsibility? You believed that you could help Thomas and ease his pain... If you ran away, it would mean you betray him. You would be like all the others who stabbed him in the back. You tenderly ran your fingers through his hair.

“Tommy...” you whispered, clenching your teeth. You were split between your past and future... you missed your life, freedom, family, and friends. But then there was this man, this murderous cannibal who made your heart inexplicably flutter. You checked his arm one more time and gave him a soft kiss on the deepest scar.

“Maybe if we met sooner.” you pondered about his past. Right, if you two met under different circumstances. You placed your head back onto the pillow and turned to your side as you decided to sleep a bit more.

“Ahh...” you yelped as Thomas unexpectedly turned around to hug you from behind. But then you just smiled and closed your eyes, enjoying his presence.

*

When you woke up again, Thomas was gone, and so was every other evidence that would suggest he was ever next to you. Maybe it really didn’t happen, and it was just a dream? You stretched your arms and looked out of the window. The sun was already remarkably high up in the sky. You yearned for the freedom outside the walls of this house.

“You had a choice...” you sighed for yourself when you remembered how close you were to escape last night. But you didn’t turn the doorknob. You didn’t open the door. Were you really out of your mind? You didn’t understand yourself anymore. Everything you did was against natural human instincts. You stepped out of bed only to realize that your ankle is cuffed again.

“All right...” you teared up uncontrollably as you slipped down from the bed, landing on your knees. You saw your suitcase on the floor next to you, so you decided to rummage through your past.  After putting on a dress and underwear, you found a diary that captured your attention, so you opened it and read.

“This road trip sucks so far; I am fairly sure they invited me only for my money. Nobody really talks with me. I swear this is the last time I am going somewhere with Emma...” was the last written paragraph. You wrote it before you threw the diary into the suitcase as you were dizzy from writing in the van, but you were frustrated, so you had to. Now you didn’t have any of your good friends or family with you so that you couldn’t share your feelings with anyone... it wouldn’t hurt if you wrote something again, right? You needed to cleanse yourself somehow.

“I was kidnapped by a local sheriff in this weird town in Texas after we had an accident on the road. Even though I am quite sure it’s not a real sheriff. This family killed Emma and the others and ate them... There are four of them... and I...” you couldn’t bring yourself to write that you purposefully missed an opportunity to escape because you had feelings for the guy who kills and butchers humans. You scrapped the idea of writing any further and stabbed the page with your pen... and again and few more times until the rest of the diary was destroyed. You threw it away and climbed back to bed. You were hungry, and you really wanted to use the bathroom, but you didn’t dare to call someone as you didn’t want Hoyt to be the one to answer you. You thought about yesterday, when you felt like more than a victim, today the reality dawned on you and mentally destroyed you. You wished Thomas would be here. You wanted to tell him how you felt about your needs. Why wasn’t he there with you?

*

Thomas wasn’t pleased about the situation either. Hoyt was searching for him in the morning, and when he couldn’t find him in the basement, he went looking for him in your room. He found you both in the same bed, and you weren’t even cuffed. He gestured for Thomas to immediately come out and then scolded him to no end.

“What do ya think yer doin’ Thomas? Sleepin’ in the same bed as yer bitch? Didn’t ya learn anythin’?” Hoyt rumbled. He was furious. To him, you were an outsider, a piece of meat. If Thomas really wanted to fuck you, it was for the sake of satisfaction and not some lovemaking shit. You would become dinner eventually anyway. Then Hoyt sent Thomas to the basement and told him to stay there as he wasn’t in the mood for his face, which obviously hurt Thomas, but he complied. Hoyt decided to take away some comfort from you, so Thomas couldn’t see you or let you out of the room. Plus, you didn’t receive any food.

*

But Hoyt left on patrol, and someone in the house didn’t like the idea of you starving to death. You heard a light knock on the door.

“C-come in.” You stuttered nervously.

“Good mornin’ darlin’.” You saw Luda Mae standing in the door frame with a plate and cup in her hands.

“Charlie isn’t in a good mood today.” she sighed. “But I can’t let ya starve now, can I?” she smiled at you while coming closer. You were so relieved. It wasn’t Hoyt, and Luda brought food.

“Is Thomas okay?” you said as you took the meal from her.

“Oh, m’dear y/n.” she smiled when you mentioned her son.

“He’s in the basement. I think they argued with Charlie. He ordered him to stay out of his sight today,” she explained with a pained expression.

“Why doesn’t he come out when Hoyt’s gone?” you asked curiously. Luda sighed again. “Hoyt locked him in there and took the key. Ya know darlin’, Hoyt doesn’t take no disrespect and ma boy Tommy was acting up. As much as I disapprove of this, my hands are tied. Charlie has the last word in this family. I couldn’t stop what they did to Monty, either.” She complained.

“What happened to Monty?” you asked despite having an idea.

“He got shot by a biker, and Charlie forced Thomas to treat him...” she made it sound so innocent, even though Monty was missing both of his legs. She really didn’t want to portray her son as evil. And you didn’t think of him that way either. You nodded while you ate the bread she gave you to let her know that you were paying attention.

*

After you finished the breakfast, well brunch, Luda Mae returned to take the empty plate and cup.

“Darlin’, I can tell that my boy Thomas likes your company. I only want the best for Tommy. He gave me this.” she took a small key out of her pocket. It was key to your freedom.

“But ya know I am just a weak old woman now, and I know Charlie would be furious if you escaped.” she was very unsure of her actions. You didn’t understand a thing. Luda uncuffed you, so you could use the bathroom and take a shower. You didn’t want to cause her trouble. If Hoyt could do what he did to Monty, you didn’t even want to imagine what fate awaited Luda if you ran away because of her.

*

“I know it must be borin’ to stay in that room all day alone, darlin’.” Luda Mae said as she washed the dishes in the kitchen. You were standing next to her, leaning on the wall.

“Would you mind helpin’ me around the house today?” Luda Mae looked at you and raised her eyebrow.

“Of course, anything.” You replied and smiled at her. How could you say no to her? And so you spent the day cleaning the house with Luda. Honestly, it was for your own good as well, because from the first time you arrived you’ve thought that the house is really filthy. However, you understood that Luda was already an older woman, and the house was huge, so it must’ve been hard for her to be the only one taking care of the household.

*

You were proud of yourself when you finished. Even Monty seemed to approve of your hard work.

“Good work, m’dear!” Luda cheerfully announced when she looked around the now clean living room. The feelings creeping on you this morning were gone, and you felt more like an actual human being rather than a piece of meat again. You weren’t cuffed, and you basically spent some family time with Luda and Monty. Your moment of happiness was abruptly interrupted by the sound of an arriving car. It was Hoyt, and when you looked closely out of the window, it seemed that he wasn’t alone. There were two guys and a girl with him in the car. Luda quickly pushed you up the stairs to make sure Hoyt doesn’t see you. You rushed to your room and looked out of the window. Apparently, Hoyt locked them in the car because he came to the porch alone. Luda opened the door and let him in. He didn’t even realize how clean the house was. He just went straight to the basement door to summon Thomas.

“Come on, Tommy, move yer ass and help me out here!” he shouted and then walked back to the car. You were still looking out of the window but concentrated on the noises coming from downstairs as well. Hoyt opened the door for the girl sitting in a passenger seat and let the guys out of the car too. They seemed okay, and Hoyt was actually polite? You didn’t understand the scene unfolding before your eyes. And then he saw you. One of the boys looked up, and he saw you staring at them from the window. But before he could do anything, Hoyt grabbed the girl and pointed a gun to her head. Both guys were visibly shocked. They genuinely believed he was a sheriff helping them until this point. Then you heard loud footsteps, and Thomas stormed out of the house with a chainsaw in his hand. The guys tried to run away, but Hoyt shot one of them to his calf. The other turned around to help his friend, but only a bullet to his shoulder awaited him. Thomas grabbed one of the wounded guys and threw him on his shoulder, and then he disappeared into the house. You figured he took him to the basement. Hoyt took the redhaired girl into the house too, and the guy who has been shot to his leg was crawling in pain away from the house. He was desperately slow. You heard screams of the girl and Hoyt’s footsteps as he struggled to bring her up the stairs to his room. You quietly went to the door and peeked out as you opened them. Hoyt didn’t notice as he was too busy with the girl who was screaming and kicking everywhere around herself. But she saw you.

“Help me! Please, you, help me!” she stared at you with despair in her eyes as she tried to get out of Hoyt’s grip. Your eyes widened, and you instinctively closed the door. You covered your ears in a futile attempt to prevent the girl’s voice from reaching you. You knew well what awaited her with Hoyt. Meanwhile, Thomas got the other guy who tried crawling again. And that was it, you couldn’t see anything else, and you could only think about what was happening in the house. The girl’s screams didn’t fade at all, and the revving of the chainsaw was piercing your ears as well.  You wanted it to end finally, but then you heard a loud thump as the basement door burst open, and Luda’s voice echoed in the living room as she was screaming Thomas’s name.

“Tommy! Hoyt! Hoyt, come down!”

You opened the door again and stepped out of the room. The girl was still screaming, and Hoyt was nowhere to be seen. He probably didn’t hear Luda. You couldn’t hear Luda as well now. You braced yourself for the worst outcome as you ran down the stairs only to find Luda tied up to a chair with a rug in her mouth.

You gasped… what was happening? Then you saw him, the guy who has been shot in his shoulder standing in the kitchen with a bloodied knife, Thomas nowhere to be found.

a/n:  Now what, you and another victim together in a kitchen... I am sorry for the cliff hanger, but the chapter would be too long, but I am in the mood for writing, so will post the next chapter tomorrow.

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 1, chapter 4

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Content warnings: fantasy violence, death mention, fantasy religion

They had travelled for another half a day before reaching the remains of the little town. It had been thoroughly sacked, most of the buildings now just burned out husks. Blaise was staring down at the body of what had presumably been one of the inhabitants. Morgan could tell she was distressed, and she was also sending signals of anger. It was becoming apparent that anger was a standard underpinning of most of her other emotions. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides.

"He was just a kid."

Morgan didn't know how to respond. The boy had been prepubescent, the small size of his body accentuated by the large and ungainly prosthetic leg still partially attached under one knee. The forces of darkness did not discriminate, equitable in their ruthlessness. That would not be the correct thing to say right now. He ventured a soft "Yes," to which Blaise did not respond. He raised a hand, thinking to lay it on her shoulder in a gesture of sympathy he'd seen many times, but then let it fall back to his side. She would likely only take offense, not comfort, from that action. He didn't particularly like touching other people anyway, if it could be avoided.

Morgan squinted instead toward the ruined town, looking more with his mind than with his eyes. There were more like the boy, all adults but recently deceased, their bones partially scattered above the ground. It was most often undead that left their victims this way, torn asunder carelessly. They were slow enemies whose movements were easy to predict. Should be simple enough. Hopefully the scholar they sought had been fast enough to hide himself away or make an escape.

Morgan's skeletons turned in unison, raising their swords in challenge. He often relied on their perception to fill in the gaps where he wasn't paying attention. There was a yelp, and a small red demon scampered out from behind a ruined building. It didn't make it far. Before the skeletons had a chance to charge, Blaise had planted an arrow between its shoulders. Its dying cry echoed through the remnants of the town, prompting a rush of activity. It seemed a number of demons had settled in. The undead had simply been scavenging, then. That could complicate things.

Morgan urged his skeletons forward, taking a step back as he started on a clay golem. He'd managed to get the time down to about thirty seconds, but it was evident that wouldn't be fast enough for most combat situations. He would have to keep working at it.

Blaise was proving to be an extremely skilled archer. Her shots were both quick and accurate, devastating to the smaller demons. It wasn't just the imps, though; there was a group of larger demons as well, goatlike bipeds wielding wicked-looking glaives. They moved to flank the invading humans, but Morgan spotted the maneuver and commanded his minions to intercept the closest ones. Their awareness was reasonably comprehensive, but his own let him down. If the goatman behind him hadn't bleated as it raised its weapon to strike, it could easily have finished him with a single blow.

He twisted sideways, narrowly avoiding the strike. Drawing his sword was easier from the far hip after all. He plunged it blindly into the demon's middle before it had a chance to raise its weapon a second time. Accuracy wasn't paramount at the moment, just so long as he got the point far enough in and wrenched to the side with sufficient strength. He jumped back, avoiding the spray of viscera that followed his blade as the demon fell.

He should have been checking for other threats instead; if he had, he might have noticed the small one creeping up behind him, emboldened by the presence of the stronger demons. It swung its blade with a battle cry, slicing into the flesh of Morgan's thigh. He cried out in surprise and pain, lashing out with his shield to gain some distance. The demon was already backing off, its fit of courage fading. It was watching him so intently that it didn't notice the skeleton behind it. A single well-aimed thrust saw it fall with a gurgle.

Morgan pressed a hand to the cut on his leg. The blade hadn't severed anything crucial, but the pain would hamper his mobility and the wound was deep enough to warrant treatment. He ordered the skeleton closer as he felt around in the pouch on his belt, fingers seeking a familiar shape - there. He uncorked the small bottle with his teeth and downed its contents. The taste of the potion lingered on his tongue, but it was mildly sweet and herbaceous, not at all unpleasant. It would only be a few minutes before the injury was fully healed. It already felt a little better.

The few remaining demons had incapacitated the other skeleton but they were fleeing now, not that it was doing them much good in the face of Blaise's arrows. She was merciless and efficient. Morgan could see why Kashya had chosen her for the task. Something was amiss, though. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He looked around again, and his eyes fell on one of the deceased civilians. That was it - the body showed signs of undead interference, but they had slain only demons. The two types of creatures often coexisted peacefully, so it wasn't likely that one group had driven out the other.

"That's the last of them," Blaise announced, lowering her bow. "Now let's hope we can find this guy quickly so we can leave. I don't like this place."

"It looked like there would be undead, so be - oh, look there-" Something was stirring, far enough away that Morgan couldn't make out exactly what it was, but the movement wasn't promising. He pointed with his sword, his minions already on their way to investigate. Blaise nocked another arrow and raised her bow.

An enormous zombie staggered toward them. Had it been... hiding? Or just somehow unaware of the skirmish? It was surprisingly fast for its size. It was also unexpectedly strong, Morgan realized as it shattered the skeleton's skull with a single powerful strike. Blaise was on the retreat, peppering it with arrows that didn't seem to be having much effect. The clay golem made it stumble with a blow to its side, but it struck out in retaliation with such force that the construct crumbled to pieces. Morgan weighed his options quickly. It was too fast for another golem. A new skeleton might be fast enough, but it would only be able to serve as a momentary distraction. With his injured leg he wouldn't even be able to outrun this one if he fled, never mind what that might mean for Blaise. He had to find a way to separate the head from the body, or destroy the brain. Not ideal, given his limited physical capacity, but then again neither was dying.

Blaise called out, "Some support would be nice!" Yes, it - oh, she meant from him. The zombie was focused on her as the only aggressor. He did have the weaponry better suited to dispatch it, if only he could reach its head. He struck the hilt of his sword against his buckler and shouted, hoping the noise would get its attention. It did not. If it was going to ignore him, maybe he could use that to his advantage.

Morgan darted in, intending to strike at the zombie's knees. Joints were always vulnerable, good targets for incapacitating an enemy. He was too slow - it finally turned toward him with a fierce swing of its arm. He managed to get his shield up in time, but the blow still lifted him off his feet. The uneven terrain and his injury made for a poor landing but an idea sparked as he stumbled, falling into a crouch with one hand braced on the ground.

He sent a tendril of magic shooting forth through the soil, just a small one for the sake of speed. If this didn't work, he might not have the time for a second try. The earth in front of the zombie rose up and curled back to cover its feet. It was not coordinated enough to avoid the crude trap. Morgan picked himself up as the undead fell to its knees, finally bringing its weak point within range. He quickly positioned the tip of his sword at the base of its skull and gave it a hard thrust, pushing with the force of both hands. There was a snap as the spine gave way, and the body collapsed.

That had felt a little too close for comfort. Morgan summoned another skeleton and sent it to scout for any more undead. Another surprise like that would be disastrous. If he kept a steady trickle of magic flowing between himself and the skeleton, he would be able to tell immediately if it had been damaged or destroyed.

"All right, now let's look for your man Deckard. Carefully. There had better not be any more of these big fuckers lurking around." Blaise nudged the body gingerly with her foot.

They moved through the town warily at first, growing more relaxed as it became apparent that they had fully cleared out its new inhabitants. A few of the buildings had cellars dug out beneath them, but they had all been empty. It was starting to look like there had been no survivors at all when Blaise spotted something.

"Wait, is that him?"

Morgan followed her gaze to a crudely constructed cage leaning up against a building. He had assumed the prone figure inside it, half hidden by rags, had been another body. But when he reached out, first with his mind alone and then with an extended arm to better direct the magic, there was no response - no bones he could use, unlike the rest of the unfortunate townsfolk.

"That one's not dead," he said, moving in closer. The pale figure was unconscious, yes, but still living. It looked like it might be an old man.

"How do you - ugh, I don't want to know, never mind." Blaise made it to him first, reaching through the bars of the cage to check for a pulse at the old man's throat. She must have found one, since her next move was to shake his shoulder gently.

He startled awake, eyes wide. "Back! Back, foul demons!" he cried out.

"Whoa, hey there, it's okay. Don't worry, my name is Blaise and I'm here to help you. The demons are gone. Are you all right? You hurt at all?" Her voice was reassuring, soothing. Her features had softened into an expression of genuine concern.

"You... oh, thank heavens! It's so good to see a friendly face. No, my dear, I'm a little worse for the wear but I'm not injured. I don't suppose you might have some water to share, would you? I'm absolutely parched."

Morgan had reached the cage by that time, and passed his waterskin through the bars. Blaise moved to examine the lock on the cage, giving it a very brief examination before fishing out two slender metal tools from her pack. "I'll have you out of there in no time," she reassured him as she began working at the lock.

The scouting skeleton hadn't encountered anything of note, but the earlier surprise was still troubling Morgan. He decided to raise another golem to join the perimeter guard, just to be on the safer side. To his surprise, the old man brightened as the shape began to take form.

"Ah, geomancy! It's been a rather long time since I've seen that particular school of magic. And so sombre, too - would I be right in guessing you to be followers of Rathma?" The old man pulled himself upright, leaning on the cage bars for support as the lock cracked open in Blaise's hands.

"Just me."

"Just him."

Blaise seemed surprised by their response in unison, but it didn't appear to faze the other man at all. "Well," he said, "whatever your origins, I'm grateful for the rescue. My name is Deckard Cain." That was excellent news. A stroke of luck that the sole survivor was the man they had been looking for. He kept talking as he stepped out of the cage. "When the demons descended, I was sure I was not long for this world. I can't imagine what possessed them to lock me up in there, but it certainly saved me from sharing a fate with everyone else here." He looked sadly at one of the human bodies, a woman who appeared to have died in the street, reaching toward the door of a house. "I only wish there was something I could have done to prevent this tragedy. These were good people. They didn't deserve this."

"I could give them their final rites," Morgan suggested. Nothing could undo what had happened, but at least the dead could be laid to rest properly. It might give some measure of comfort to the old man as well. All things considered, it felt like an acceptable delay.

Cain laid a hand on Morgan's shoulder. He flinched only slightly at the unexpected contact. "Thank you, friend. It is kind of you to offer, and I can think of no one better than a priest of Rathma to lay these people to rest."

Blaise coughed. "Are you sure about that? You... you know what they do with skeletons, right?"

"My dear, I assure you there are none more suited to care for the dead. I visited a temple of Rathma once for several months in my younger days, far to the southeast..."

Morgan half listened as he stowed his shield. It was a simple enough line to draw, though it seemed unlikely that Blaise would be interested in the particulars: bodies that had been consecrated, no matter the particulars of the faith that informed the process, felt different than ones that had not received that treatment. They were easy to sense and avoid, and besides that, they were considerably harder to raise. Powerful practitioners were capable of such feats, but despite their reputation, priests of their Order gave the dead every courtesy they would afford the living. It wasn't uncommon to meet resistance even in the dead that had passed on unremarked; in these cases, a necromancer could either leave the spirit be or pass it through the veil as they deemed appropriate. Morgan preferred the option of assisting with the passing on, though he hadn't ever personally had the opportunity. It felt like it would be better than just leaving them to linger.

The first stages of preparation for this particular ceremony didn't require much concentration, just some physical effort to collect and lay out the deceased. Including the boy from the outskirts of the town, there were six bodies to inter. There was a good spot near the central part of the town, likely once a market of some sort. It seemed unlikely that anyone would be rushing to rebuild the town any time soon, he reasoned.

"Excuse me, young man." Morgan stopped to look at Cain, who was wearing an apologetic smile. "I hate to be a bother, but..." He gestured toward the remains of the enormous zombie. "This gentleman is... or was, rather... Griswold, the town blacksmith. Stone deaf but a heart of gold in him. He did great things, in life. Is there any way you could include him as well?"

"Yes, of course." Morgan considered the body for a moment before calling his golem back over from where it had been patrolling the area. Even with its help, it was difficult to maneuver the corpse over to the others. But they managed eventually, making him the seventh in the line. Cain chattered on to Blaise the entire time, but clearly he was also paying some attention to Morgan.

"That's everyone," he confirmed before Morgan had even opened his mouth to ask. "It saddens me to see this lively town reduced to so little. Rest well, my friends."

That was a recognizable cue. Morgan began by consecrating the zombie, drawing a small phial of oil from his chest pocket and anointing its head and hands. The oil glowed faintly as he said a brief incantation, an ancient prayer. The first step completed, he switched to a different oil and drew a simple sigil on the forehead of each of the deceased. This anointment was to help guide the spirits up to Anu. As he recited the liturgy, he was surprised to hear Cain's voice joining his own during the repeated segments. He filed that away to consider later. Right now he needed to concentrate.

Seven was a lot of bodies to inter, but if he let the constructs fall and paced himself he could probably manage. He knelt by Griswold and touched the earth. Carefully, slowly, it parted beneath the giant of a man. Once the body was several feet deep, the dirt filled in on top of him, leaving a small mound on the surface. The effort left him slightly winded. It had been a good idea to start with the largest. The next two were easier, but the cumulative strain was growing faster than he'd anticipated. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead and he'd lost his breath again. Better to pause now than to have to stop in the middle of an interment, he decided.

He took a small bottle from his belt, uncorked it and tossed back the bitter bluish liquid in one motion, kneeling again before the dizziness set in. The familiar buzz of magical energy crackled through him. It itched under his skin. He would have preferred to rest instead of taking the potion, but interrupting the ceremony was not an option. The whole point was to respectfully lay them to rest; stopping for a break would have felt disrespectful. He had to press on.

Despite his measured approach, Morgan was trembling with exhaustion by the time the last body was safely entombed. Seven had turned out to be too many. The potion had helped, but its borrowed energy left as suddenly as it came, and the body shakes it left in its wake were uncomfortable. He fell into a cross-legged position, elbows braced on his knees, head hanging as his chest heaved. Meditation wasn't going to cut it after this. He was going to need real sleep. Still, it was satisfying to feel he'd done a good job of the burial ceremony. He was also grateful that Blaise had elected to keep watch during the proceedings. He'd been forced to abandon his minions to save energy. Had he been alone, safety would have been a serious concern.

Blaise cleared her throat. "Not to kill the moment or anything, but we need to start going before it gets dark. It's a long way back to the Sisterhood."

"Perhaps I can help with that," Cain said. Morgan raised his head to see him produce a small scroll from the pockets of his robe. "This is a scroll of town portal. Have you ever used one before?" Blaise shook her head. "Oh, it's very simple. You just need to picture a place in your head as you read it, and it will open a portal to that place. It only works for human settlements, and the place has to be within a certain distance. But if your description is accurate, as I'm sure it is, the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye should meet those requirements." He held the scroll out for Blaise to take. "I must admit I've never visited, so I can't use this to get to our destination."

Blaise took the scroll and opened it, peering at its contents. Nothing happened. She turned it sideways, then upside down. No portal materialized. She looked up at Cain. "Am I missing something here? I thought this was supposed to be easy."

He frowned. "It should be. Let me look - no, no, the scroll is in order. It should work for you if you're following the instructions. Unless - well, there are a few reasons it might not be working. It could be a matter of lineage, for instance. Were your parents both human?"

Blaise stared at him as though he'd just grown another head. "What else would they be?"

"I've used those scrolls before," Morgan said, rising unsteadily to his feet. He had used the portals fairly regularly, running errands during his training. A throbbing ache was building behind his eyes, and he wanted very much to rest. He was seriously considering curling up in one of the ruined buildings at this point. But that wouldn't take the other people into consideration. Assuming the portal scroll worked, it would be the best course of action to take.

Blaise held it at arm's length. "If you can make it work, go ahead. But if not, we start walking."

Morgan took the scroll, scanning the familiar runes. It wasn't reading, exactly, but they started to glow all the same. He thought about the rogue encampment, focusing on the spot just outside the gates where he'd first waited for Blaise. A shimmering blue circle materialized in front of him, the image of the camp faintly distinguishable in its centre. It stretched until it was big enough to walk through. No problem with the scroll, then.

"Magnificent!" Cain clasped his hands together. "It will be wonderful to be amongst people again. Please, after you."

Morgan would have preferred not to be the first one out of the portal, but Blaise wasn't moving to enter and he didn't have the energy to try to sway her. He stepped into the portal. It was like walking down a short hallway, the distance to the destination collapsed into a few steps. As he stepped out of the portal, he found a sword pointed at his face. His hands came up automatically in a gesture of surrender. Of course the rogues would be suspicious if they weren't accustomed to using this type of magic. That was precisely why he hadn't wanted to lead.

"Oh, it's you." Kashya lowered her sword. "Where's Blaise? Did you find Deckard Cain?"

"They are following," he said, letting his hands fall as he stepped to the side of the portal. He hoped they were following. He was too tired to explain if they weren't.

Sure enough, Cain emerged a few seconds later, peering around. "So this is the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye! I've heard much about you. I wonder if you would indulge an old man's curiosity. I have some questions for you..." He had honed in on Akara without hesitation, taking her by the arm. She appeared surprisingly amenable; something about him seemed to put people at ease.

Blaise came through shortly after, straightening when she spotted Kashya. "Ma'am."

"Give me a full report."

The commander turned on her heel, going back into the encampment, and Blaise followed her. Good. That meant nobody wanted to talk to Morgan, and he could get some rest. He tore the scroll in half, disrupting the magic holding the portal open. Only living humans could use these portals, but it still felt safer to close it behind him. Unlike the others, he did not enter the encampment. Now was not the time to solicit an invitation. He'd noted a large, sturdy willow tree outside the northern corner of the rogues' camp. He dragged his weary body over to it, nestled in against its trunk, and promptly lost consciousness.