#anyone who has made it this far into hell with their soul intact is IMPRESSIVE tbh

[rubixpsyche]

what would the shipname for Angel Dust and Valentino be exactly

before anyone jumps me I think there's some good potential for exploring their (theoretical) relationship before Oh God It's All Gone Wrong, I'd love to see some AU ideas and also we love angst in this house and therefore I want more scenes between those two. Up to a certain point shipnames are just for organization and that is exactly what I'm looking for

[3pirouette]

Fic: The Honey Trap (11/12)

Title: The Honey Trap

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :) 

Story Summary: Peggy’d lost count. She wasn’t sure if she was a double or triple agent at this point, and in the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting out of this alive.

A/N: This was absolutely the hardest chapter for me to write even though the very end of it has been done for a while now. GETTING to that point was really difficult, and I struggled to make sure you're seeing it as I am in my head.There's only one more chapter after this. I hope you enjoy this.Thanks again for going on this crazy ride with me- I SWEAR this was supposed to be cute and sexy when I first started writing it. Seems that was not the story that wanted to be told.

Chapter 11: What Must Be Done 0800 the Next Morning

“What are we supposed to be looking for?” Dum Dum’s voice sounded over the comms.

“Don’t know,” Steve replied from his own cover a few hundred yards away. “But her transponder is still on, and she’s in that base.”

Bucky’s voice came in loud and clear, as he was lying right next to Steve. “How do you even know she’ll be able to give us a signal?”

Steve looked at his friend, lying next to him in the snow, and found he couldn’t lie to him. “I don’t. But I know Peggy, and if she wanted us here, she’s gonna let us know when to come knocking.”

Phillips burst into the line, tinny as his position was the farthest away. “Cute sentiment, but if we don’t get some kind of signal by 1400, we’re going in. The US Army doesn’t run on faith alone.”

~*~ 1100 That Morning

Peggy had thought she’d prepared herself. She’d heard the story from Erskine himself long before it was deemed classified and long before he started softening the catastrophic outcomes of using the serum on the wrong person. She’d listened to Steve’s story of watching Schmidt pull his face away to reveal his true self underneath. She thought she’d been ready.

She wasn’t.

Peggy wasn’t prepared for what it looked like to see a man peel seemed to be real human flesh from his face, only to reveal the red skin of a monster, the gaping hole where his nose should have been, and the sunken eye sockets of a madman. She couldn’t stop the roiling in her stomach or the sharp shock of fear that darted up her spine.

She supposed she controlled her face well enough, because he seemed impressed at her lack of response. “Fraulein, are you not afraid?”

Never one to back down, Peggy figured she couldn’t get herself in any more trouble than she already was. “I suppose the outside matches the inside now.”

He took heavy, long strides to stand right in front of her and looked her up and down. Wallace, by her side, stood stock still, far more frightened and surprised than she was. “You have no fear,” Schmidt commented hesitant to show how that impressed him. He looked Wallace up and down and smirked. “Perhaps you should learn from your… boyfriend here.” He turned and walked away. “You should have a healthy fear of your superiors, though a certain level of fearlessness is necessary to do what must be done.”

He turned, smiling at them. “Are you?” He looked Wallace up and down once again before circling the pedestal in the middle of his laboratory. The late morning sun through the windows gave him an eerie glow as he prowled like a cat. “Are you willing to do what must be done for the glory of the cause?”

“Yes sir,” Wallace replied before lifting both arms and saluting, “Hail Hydra!”

The Red Skull’s laugh was dark and sarcastic, unconvinced of his loyalty. “Of course, you are.” He turned towards Peggy, stopping at a pedestal. “And you? Are you as willing to lay your life on the line as your boyfriend is here?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Peggy insisted, standing up tall. “And you could not imagine the things I’m willing to risk my life for.”

He laughed heartily this time, looking out to his static guards. “Ah ha! The spirit!” He turned back to her, the grin disturbing on his skeletal features. “The determination!”  He took a deep breath, slowing his excitement as he smoothed the cloth over the pedestal. “We shall see how far that will get you, fraulein.”

With a nod of his head the guards behind them were moving them forward, hand on their arms, roughly guiding them up to the pedestal.

“Behold,” Red Skull smiled, gripping the canvas, “The Tesseract.” He pulled away the canvas, and Peggy felt like she couldn’t breathe.

~*~

“What the hell is that?” Bucky kept his eyes on the sniper scope, looking through the large windows.

“What?” Steve asked desperately, not having a scope to look through.

“There’s a… a block.” He shrugged. “It’s glowing. It’s a big glowing square and it’s…” Bucky passed the rifle to Steve to look. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

“Rogers?” Phillips’ voice cut through his ear.

“Sir, it looks to be a cube, made out of the same energy source as the energy weapons we’ve been studying.” Steve shifted the scope, watching as Red Skull laid his hand on it, the cube pulsating blue light. “Maybe 6 inches square?”

“That’s enough,” Howard piped in. “That’s enough to wipe out a significant part of Europe, or the whole east coast, on its own. They amplify it…”

Phillip’s voice was tight, controlled but on edge. “Rogers, you’re the one with eyes. Are we a go?”

Steve swallowed as the Red Skull blocked his sight of the cube, but he could still see her face over his shoulder. He could see the panic in Peggy’s eyes, could see that something was wrong, but he didn’t know, wasn’t sure, if going in now was going to make it better or worse.

“Rogers?”

Steve tossed the rifle back at Bucky. “I’m going in… by myself. Wait for my signal.”

~*~

Peggy could feel her gut tightening with each passing second. The energy pouring off the Tesseract seemed to flow through her, seemed to set her on edge, but the men around her didn’t seem to feel it. Wallace was still standing, both afraid and struck with worship at the sight of Schmidt, and Schmidt only seemed to feel the power of it when his hands were on it.

It seemed to call to her: the light, the power, beating like there was something far too contained in that tiny box begging to be let out. Like it was begging to be saved.

Wallace babbled on next to her, trying to impress Schmidt with his confidence, his commitment to the cause.

The Red Skull stopped his tirade with a hand, tipping his head to Peggy. “And you? Do you share your boyfriend’s sentiment?”

Peggy felt a flow of courage, and repeated her earlier statement. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Before the Red Skull could answer, the doors burst open, a compliment of guards flanking Steve as they paraded him in in his full Captain America regalia.

Peggy smiled widely at the sight of him. “That’s my boyfriend.” She turned, bolstered and waved cheekily. “Hello, darling.”

Steve lifted his chin, but didn’t otherwise change his stance. Peggy didn’t mind the cold reception, when he was focused like this there was little that could get through to him besides the mission, and she needed that now. She needed someone fresh and clearheaded to pull her through the rest of this.

And if Steve was here, she doubted very much he was alone. He was always very good at following directions.

Red Skull, however, laughed. It was a small chuckle at first, then a full out guffaw as he looked at Wallace, anger starting to bloom in his eyes. “You’ve been double crossed. By Captain America, no less.” Wallace stammered as Schmidt motioned for the man to be brought closer to him. The guard flanked him, dragging him forward. “Let us see where your heart truly lies, shall we?”

Without preamble Schmidt grabbed his hand and pressed it to the Tesseract.

The room froze. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then he screamed.

It was a scream like nothing Peggy had heard before, a scream that came from the depth of his soul and didn’t hide the pain he was in. The blue light seemed to seep through his skin, lighting him up from the inside and turning him into a writhing conduit as he fell to the floor, his body shaking with unnatural spasms.

The room watched quietly as his shaking slowed until it was quite clear he was dead.

Red Skull looked down at him, his stature unchanged, his hands clasped behind his back. He let his eyes roam over the body as he made a hum of disinterest in the back of his throat. “It has never done that before,” he murmured quietly.

He looked up sharply, eyes narrowed. “Now her.”

Peggy struggled against the two guards who nearly lifted her from her feet to move her forward. She could hear Steve screaming and fighting behind her, her name torn from his throat with the sound of him getting hit by something. She couldn’t see him, didn’t have time to worry or imagine as she struggled.

She stopped moving once they placed her hand on the cube, though she could still hear the dull thuds of Steve fighting behind her, the crashing of the windows as reinforcements joined them.

It all slowed as she felt a heat run through her, spreading through her body from her fingertips. She could have cried at the thought that this was how it ended, after all she had gone through, Steve was going to have to watch her die a writhing mass on the ground, unable to do anything about it, and she wouldn’t have made a dent in slowing Hydra.

The despair slowly turned, though, and she felt strong. Comforted. The warmth spread through her like a hug, and though it seemed impossible, the light of the Tesseract dimmed, leaving her as alive and intact as when her fingers had first touched it.

Schmidt looked at her in wonder and yelled loudly in German, speaking so fast she couldn’t follow what he was saying. He was quickly hustled away by guards who flanked him, the Tesseract glowing in his hands as he shepherded it with him. The men around her tried to pull her away, too, but she managed to overpower them with the assistance of Barnes and Dugan.

The Commandos flanked her as Hydra retreated through dark corridors, the only men left in the room were her true allies or unconscious guards on the floor.

Steve turned her, his hands roaming and checking for injuries. “Peggy? Are you alright? Please. Please tell me you’re ok?”

“I’m—” She was cut off as he pulled her tight in his arms. She let herself revel in the feel of it for just a second, wrapping herself around him tight as well. “Fine. I’m fine.”

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered, burying his nose in her hair. “I thought you were going to die right in front of me.”

“Will someone give me a damn report?” Peggy nearly laughed at the faraway sound of Phillips in Steve’s earpiece.

“Wallace is dead,” Bucky reported, looking around the room. “Peg seems ok for now, but they’ve retreated.”

Phillips was strong and clear through the line. “I’ve got men moving in through every available entrance. We’re ending this today, let’s take ‘em down.”

“You sure you’re ok?” Steve pulled back, brushing her hair away from her face.

Peggy smiled, reaching down to pick up a small energy gun that one of the Hydra agents had dropped. “We have a job to do now,” she smiled softly looking in his eyes, “we have a lot to catch up on later.”

Bucky groaned. “Come on, lovebirds. I can hear an engine.”

Without hesitation, Steve and Peggy followed Bucky and Dum Dum down the dimly lit hallway, pausing here and there, relying on Steve’s hearing and the reports of other soldiers they ran into to take them a winding route to an airplane hangar.

A journey that only took minutes felt like years, and filled Peggy with a sense of overwhelming Déjà vu. She knew she’d never been here before, hadn’t heard about the huge plane in front of them from Wallace or any of her other intel, but somehow knew exactly how this was going to go.

The plane engine revved and she didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Steve’s hand and ran.

Peggy ran faster than she’d ever run before, keeping pace with Steve as the plane started to taxi, leaving Barnes and Dugan jogging behind them, getting farther and farther away.

“Peggy?” Steve choked out, confused as she kept up with him and they closed the distance on the plane.

“I don’t know, I just know we have to be on that thing.” She nodded at the plane. “We have to.”

She didn’t know why she knew it, or why it seemed so important, but Steve didn’t question her, just started pumping his legs faster. She faltered, finally reaching the limits of her newfound speed, and he pulled her up into his arms without missing a step.

When they were close enough, nearly outside as the plane sped even faster, he risked a glance down. “Ready?”

Peggy paused, pressing her lips to his for the barest of moments. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was a reassurance nonetheless. She nodded, turning her attention to the wheel.

“Three, two, one!” At the end of the countdown, Steve tossed her with all his might at the wheel of the plane. She grappled for just a second, but his aim had been true and she landed safely on the metal gear. She looked back to see him building up speed again for his own jump, and then quickly turned back to the wheel, pulling herself up and out of the way into the well.

Steve was quickly under her, climbing up the wheel as it slowly retracted into the plane, the ground disappearing below them as the plane took flight.

“Nothing like making a close call,” she whispered.

Steve looked up at her from where he was crouched, hands on his knees, catching his breath. “Little closer than I’d like,” he whispered back. “Do you know something about this plane?”

“Nothing,” she turned a circle, looking at the holding bay they were in. “But I think we’re going to find out pretty fast.”

“Those aren’t…”

Peggy nodded her head, fear running down her spine. “They are.” They were surrounded by bombs hooked to smaller planes that were barely more than room for a pilot and a propeller. The bombs were named for their targets, making it clear the plan was launch from mid-air, attacking the eastern seaboard of the US and the western seaboard of Europe, crippling most of the Allied countries in one go. “Do you think they—”

Steve cut her off, nodding. “Look.” He pointed to the floor of the plane that was lined metal grates that were just shiny enough to bounce back the blue light from the underside of the vessels. Steve felt his stomach drop, and knew this was a mission they might not come back from. “We have to stop this plane.” He crouched low, looking to see how much of the glowing blue was the energy source and how much was bomb. “Howard said that if they had enough of this blue energy source, mixed with enough explosive, it could be catastrophic.”

Peggy followed his gaze. She didn’t know what enough meant, but she was sure there was more than that on this plane. “How catastrophic?”

Steve stood slowly, fear in his eyes. “Extinction level.”

Peggy swallowed hard, knowing exactly how he felt, because she felt the same dread and responsibility. She took only a breath to commit to it. “We have to stop this plane.”

He pulled the shield from his back and they slowly started to make their way forward and up through the belly of the plane.

Steve paused a moment while they were still alone, his voice barely above a whisper. “Peggy, what happened when you touched the cube?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered back, reaching out and lacing her fingers through his. Even the feeling of the leather of his gloves was reassuring to her now.

“Are you… did you…” He couldn’t quite come up with the words to finish his thought as he looked at her, concerned and nervous.

“I’ve never run that fast before in my life and you know it,” she sighed as she looked up at him, trying to keep herself from worrying and falling apart. “Howard will just have to figure this all out when we’ve finished, yes?”

It was a high hope to believe they’d both make it out of this alive, and they both knew it, but neither said it out loud.

Steve nodded, squeezing her hand before he let go and turned, moving forward again. “When we’ve finished,” he mumbled, trying to convince himself.

Errant Hydra guards were taken out swiftly between the two of them, the trail of bodies behind them growing with each step. It wasn’t long before they’d burst into the cockpit, Schmidt at the controls, protected by a guard of masked Hydra agents.

Peggy knew she’d never punched like this before, never held her balance like this before as Schmidt pitched the plane to try to give his minions the advantage. She knew she was fast and strong, but never like this. She knew something had happened when she touched the cube, she just didn’t dare guess what, or even try to think too hard about how long it might last, or what it was meant to be able to make her do. No, she just focused on masked face after masked face until there was no one left but Schmidt to deal with.

She lifted one of the guard’s abandoned energy weapons into her hands, waiting for Schmidt to make his move.

He kept his spot in the pilot’s seat, the cube in hand, and looked them over. “If I thought there was a chance of swaying you two to my side, I’d be impressed.” Schmidt tipped his head and stood, disappointed. “But you’ve killed nearly all my men, and left me no choice.”

“You’re done, Schmidt,” Steve announced, slowly putting himself between Schmidt and Peggy.

He chuckled slowly, far more devious with the red skin over his features than he had been with the fake skin making him look somewhat human. “Cut off one head, two will grow back in its place,” he spouted, smiling like a demon. “Hydra will live on long after I have made my stand. I am willing to sacrifice for what must be done, are you?”

He turned, flipped a few switches, and the plane lurched again, causing Steve and Peggy to stumble.

Red Skull laughed as he looked back at them. “Auto pilot. Such a lovely invention, don’t you think?” Without pause he pulled his gun from his belt and shot at the console, sending smoke and sparks into the air. “I had planned on dozens of small explosions, a capitol here, a state there… but it looks like one great, big bang will have to do.”

Peggy could feel the sweat running down her back, saw the stress in the way Steve clenched his hands. Schmidt had done it: he’d put all his cards on the table and the plane was taking a one-way trip they couldn’t reverse.

Peggy looked at Steve, felt her heart drop at the desperation in his eyes. He was always so fast to come up with a plan, to know what the next move needed to be. His rueful gaze told her he had nothing.

But Peggy knew what needed to be done, she knew there was only one way this went, and it meant that none of them were walking away from this if they were going to save thousands, if not millions, of lives.  

She brought her weapon up, and aimed it at him, voice cold. “I told you that you had no idea how far I’d go, and it seems I was right about that.”

“Peg, no!” Steve called, stepping forward, trying to get in her way.

Schmidt stepped to the side, putting himself right back in her range. “I don’t think I was, fraulein.” He challenged her with his eyes. “The hero always tries to find another way out.”

“We can stop this plane, Peggy,” Steve whispered, staying where he was.

She didn’t look at him, but kept her eyes trained on Schmidt. “You and I both know we can’t, and we both know what’s at stake.”

Peggy paused, the energy weapon in her hands and aimed at Schmidt. She didn’t look back at Steve, she could already see the panic in his eyes in her periphery, and she was afraid that if she looked at him, she wouldn’t have the strength to do what she needed to do.

She looked at the Tesseract, at the pulsating glow of it, and remembered how warm it had felt when she touched it, how it had almost felt calm and safe. How, for a brief moment, she’d felt like everything she’d ever done had led her up to that moment, and the cube somehow was telling her that it would all turn out exactly the way it was supposed to.

Deep in her gut, she knew it would all turn out the way it was supposed to.

Schmidt laughed, and Steve yelled, and she pulled the trigger.

Peggy wasn’t afraid. Whatever was going to happen was going to bring an end to all of this, and she knew with every fiber of her being this was the right choice as the energy beam hit the Tesseract and bounced back at her.

~*~

The explosion was like nothing he’d ever seen. The weapon hit the tesseract with its own energy, and everything slowed.

He felt the concussive force before he saw the fiery light explode in tendrils.

He felt the plane start to nosedive, fast, and saw the gaping holes in the panel where the controls had been.

He reached out, trying in desperation to fight the freefall of the plane to get to Peggy.

He saw the way the light wrapped around her, cradling her before he could get to her.

He saw the way the light wrapped around Schmidt, the way it didn’t cradle him but how it choked him, strangled him and twisted him until there was nothing left but the burning brilliance of the energy around him and then nothing but the space he used to occupy.

He saw the way Peggy seemed to float.

…the way he knew she was safe.

…the way he somehow knew they were both safe as they floated together in freefall.

…the way they melded together, his shield below them as gravity seemed to take hold again, protecting them as they crashed.

…the way her eyes glowed when she looked at him and the blue light of the Tesseract surrounded them as water started to rush in.  

…the way he didn’t mind as the water surrounded them.

…the way she didn’t either.

…the way he felt calm.

Warm.

Safe.

He felt her tuck into his side, wrap her arms around him.

Then he felt nothing.

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 22 – Mysteries Unforeseen

WHAM.

A myriad of salty drops lashed the air, producing a booming noise that seawater cannot normally generate – a sight that was repeated at least dozen times in mere seconds.

Which was not odd at all, considering that Rael was against three weapons created specially against heads of noble clans.

The Kertia sped across water tossing and turning from the beams viciously projected from their mouths, in deliberate attempt to draw them away from the body of rocks he had been standing on.

There was no chance in hell he would let them damage even pebble-worth volume of the isle that held the last of his brother.

And the task, in fact, was not as arduous as he had thought.

Partially because series of battles he had gone through steeled him more than before, which is natural since his latest enemies had been on par with the elders of the Union.

And partially because the weapons he was now against were undeniably weaker than the ones he had met in Korea.

‘Are these really the ones made by Ignes? In terms of their power, they are no better than or equal to the very first weapons I’ve encountered,’ thought Rael, now surmising that these weapons are actually imitations of Ignes’s creations.

He figured he can now stop running, after one final step across the sea. He thus kicked the sapphire-blue facet of water once more, when a fatal presence underneath broke the surface.

“Ugh!!”

His pace ruined, Rael realized a breath late that one of the weapons was long gone from the sight, and at the same time the said weapon drilled the air with one of its arms shifted in the shape of a spinning lance, aiming deadly towards his heart.

Rael was saved by the Kertia-born agile movements that kicked in like an instinct, and he could make an evasion unharmed.

As Rael restationed himself midair, the weapons surrounded him in a circle, spearing every corner of his figure with eyes completely devoid of life.

As if they were calculating they should pounce him now or later.

Contrary to his usual self, Rael could feel displeasure preceding wariness. He was already pissed enough that these abominations interrupted him in the middle of his very first elegiac visit to his brother.

Plus, the biological artifacts crystallized from Union’s avarice and experiments far from humanism dared to trespass the earth that treasured the last of Razark Kertia. The fact was more than enough to bring ire into Rael’s heart.

Not to mention visiting Razark was not the sole purpose of his trip; he was on a mission as the ambassador of Lukedonia. He could not imagine himself being late for his rendezvous with Lunark.

Therefore, he decided to use his soul weapon to finish them. He knew it was not really necessary to pull out the most valuable of his Kertia heritage; yet he was more than willing to wrap this up as soon as possible.

“Grandia,” quoted Rael, as he crossed his hands in an all-too-familiar format.

His senses tranquilized in equilibrium with the surroundings, as if they have emerged as one.

The boundary separating his body and his environment made nil AND distinct at the same time.

He expected such innate impression to dawn upon his entire existence as he also-too-familiarly uncrossed his hands.

To his utter shock, his hands were empty.

He realized he was perfectly sane upon scanning his hands, caught with nothing but cold air.

“What...?”

Voicing his fluster with enemies right before him, Rael attempted to summon his soul weapon once more, this time taking more care in kindling the weapon awake.

He could feel the familiar aura pushing and pulling throughout his veins and nerves, to ultimately bear fruits in his hands.

Nevertheless, he could not even catch a glimpse of the said fruits, his hands still unoccupied.

“What in the...?!”

Rael gawked down at his hands, his enemies lost from his mind.

His calm literally cut off from his head due to a situation never before seen or foreseen, Rael could not move. Because of which the next moment his head was nearly sliced off from his body.

His head was made intact thanks for the reflexes honed through numbers of battles and training and supported by Kertia nimbleness.

He could not, however, avoid getting slashed in the face by one of the weapons.

He managed to focus back on his foes once he felt thin trickling of warmth cascading very sluggishly down his skin. Immediately after, he had to dodge countless attacks from the weapons.

‘What is this? For some reason, they feel different.’

Still confused by the fact that Grandia was silent, Rael concentrated on the battle that took a rapid turn, thereby causing bigger confusion for himself.

‘This is no imagination. It feels like... Like they were waiting to see if I can use a soul weapon or not. Like they have now decided they no longer have to keep their distance!’

Were they waiting for me to call upon my soul weapon?

No, were they waiting to see if I possess a soul weapon?

Does that mean they were being rather unenthusiastic with the battle on purpose?

Does that mean... They know what a soul weapon is?

Rael could not bring himself to determine if he was being psychotic. He has gone through more than a handful of phenomena and presences beyond earthly comprehension.

Telling himself that for now he should not drop any of his presumptions, he put himself against the weapons barehanded. Once he did, he learned soon enough that these weapons were not impossible to fare against, even without Grandia.

According to his battle instinct, they were a couple steps below the werewolf warriors he met before.

Pushing back towards the corner of his head the mystery of Grandia, he sharpened himself upon catching a chance to eradicate them once and for all.

That was when the weapons halted in the middle of flinging themselves towards him.

Floating above water and in the air to stare at him, the weapons surprisingly turned towards each other, as if exchanging glances.

Alarmed by the behavioral pattern never seen from the previous weapons, Rael saw how they turned away from him and fled from the scene in full speed.

“What in the...?”

Rael could not even think of chasing them, too baffled by a situation that was not at all on the list of the possible scenarios of this battle.

Not that he would have had time to chase them anyways, with a mission to be fulfilled in this area.

‘Why would they just go away?’

Were they ordered to avoid killing me?

Or was there someone controlling them from a distance?

Does that mean their controller will soon learn that my soul weapon is not how it should be?

Rael felt as if his heart plummeted to the depths of water upon the idea.

What would happen if those weapons were indeed sent by the Union, and so the Union would know that he cannot wield his soul weapon for some reason?

He did not even want to dream of what would unfold as a result.

But more importantly, he could not even guess why his soul weapon was not responsive.

‘Why...? Why, Grandia...?!’

He has never heard or saw an occasion in which a soul weapon fully pledged to its owner does not reply to a call.

‘Could it be that it’s because Grandia was originally an incomplete weapon? Maybe this is a side effect that manifested just now.’

But Rael right afterwards told himself that such “side effect” should have taken place before Grandia was unified with Kartas.

He thought for a moment that he should seek Gechutel’s counseling, as he was the one who had been alive since his father’s time.

But then again, the only cases of soul weapon being split into two are of Grandia and Kartas and of Ragnarok, Lascrea’s soul weapon.

So it would be more logical for him to talk to Lascrea, the current wielder of Ragnarok, or Raizel, in whose body the half of Ragnarok was permanently absorbed, about the side effect of an incomplete soul weapon.

‘Wait. No. That’s impossible.’

Shame and self-blame as frigid as blizzard enveloped his entire frame.

‘Snap out of it, Rael Kertia. Even if this concerns your soul weapon, there is no way you should consult this to anyone, let alone someone.’

He had sworn that he will do everything on his own, as the head of the Kertias. Yet here he was, whining about the trouble his soul weapon brewed.

‘And we’re talking about Grandia – soul weapon of Kertias. So I should do this on my own. Even if a help is inevitable, I must not let either of them... Or any of the nobles to know about this.’

And certainly not the patriarchs of the Kertia clan.

Rael grit his teeth before he recalled his meeting with Lunark and retraced his steps back to the rendezvous point.

That was when with a speed of light he remembered something related to the human companion Lunark will bring with her.

The day he reached KSA to take Yuhyung to Lukedonia, he was exposed albeit little to the gas that the latter developed – the gas that was supposed to be a weapon that would have brought upper hand for KSA against Union, if only it were calibrated well enough.

‘Which reminds me, I’ve never tried pulling out Grandia after that incident. Could it be that gas affected me in one way or another?’

Rael held his lips sealed, and he decided he must not tell anyone among noblekind about this mysterious dilemma.

That is, anyone, save the human researcher, who might be connected to this situation in a cause-and-effect relation.

*****

Meantime, in the werewolf realm

“Goddamn it...”

Kentas ground his teeth as he smudged the dirt around his mouth with the back of his hand.

Dorant was also looking ahead, to the spot Kentas was glaring at, with his jaw rigid.

The damage dealt by the intruders were not very serious; in fact, it could not even be dubbed as damage.

Nonetheless, the two warriors were fully plagued with confusion and vexation thanks to the situation wrought by the intruders.

“Just what are those Union filths up to this time?”

“...I think we need to discuss upon this matter.”

“Can’t agree more. We should find our lord and...”

“Yes, of course. But I was talking about someone else.”

Someone else? With whom?

Understanding lit up Kentas’s face once he questioned Dorant with his eyes.

“Allow me to find the communication room.”

(next chapter)

I feel so bad for giving Rael heaps of trouble, and now I feel horrible about posting this chapter. :’( Will Rael be able to find out what’s wrong with his soul weapon and recover it? Stay tuned to find out!

[my-miraculous-headcanons]

The Sorceress AU

In which everything is almost exactly the same... except Marinette was born into a family of sorceresses, and knew about the magical world ever since her abilities bloomed when she was a child.

Background Stuff

     • Tikki was honestly baffled by the Guardian’s decision, at first. A Guardian has never chosen someone already in possession of magical talent— it’s dangerous to even consider it. It’s too much power in the hands of someone who already has power to begin with. 

     • She quickly learns that she shouldn’t have been so wary of the Guardian’s choice. Marinette is an exceptional Ladybug, with a heart of gold, who, despite having such an abundance of power, never lets any of it go to her head. 

     • It’s not really so much as the Guardian’s choice that she’s so wary about now, so much as how the miraculous will... interact with Marinette’s already existing abilities. 

     • In the end, both Tikki and Marinette agree to not use any of her magic while in the Ladybug suit. They don’t really want to test anything out, since magic is... well. Dangerous. Experimentation with magic is especially dangerous. 

     • However, that doesn’t stop Marinette from experimenting outside the mask. In fact, her family is known for experimentation. The Cheng family in particular has a long history of discovering and creating new magic spells, whilst the Dupain family has a book filled with the different potions that had been created with each generation. 

     • Marinette made her first spell when she was four. She shows it to Tikki— the spell that plucks stars out of the sky and weaves them into your hair, turning it into the night itself. Nearly a decade later, and it’s still her favourite spell. She’s trying to figure out how to alter it so she can use it on a dress she’s making.

     • Marinette made her first potion when she was seven. She lovingly calls it the “Muse Potion,” a potion that conjures the perfect image in a waft of smoke that inspires any person who sees it. It has certainly helped her through design slumps.

     • Ladybug never tells Chat Noir or anyone that she’s a sorceress (in training). Chat Noir remains oblivious to her abilities, since she never uses it in battle. (Even when she’s really, really tempted to, sometimes.) 

     • Marinette never tells anyone as a civilian either, not even Alya. There’s strict rules on keeping the nonmagical out of the magical community. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t use magic often— in fact she uses it all the time, sometimes unconsciously. For example, she had accidentally infused the lucky charm she gave Adrien with a minor good luck spell. 

     • After becoming Ladybug, Marinette had discovered a purification spell completely by accident. She saw an akuma flying about the park, and as it passed her while she sat under a tree, she reached out and grabbed it by the wing. It turned white where the wing and her fingers touched, spread, and suddenly the evil color was just... gone.

     • This gets Marinette wondering what other spells from her Ladybug life she can replicate. Tikki usually wouldn’t ever allow this, but as long as Marinette doesn’t record these particular spells, she will let it slide. 

     • Marinette created almost a perfect replica of the Ladybug Lucky Charm spell, except the items she gets are completely red, never spotted. She also created a Miraculous Cure spell, except it’s nowhere near as powerful as Ladybug’s, and it doesn’t specifically focus on damage caused by akuma. She used it on her room, and it fixed pretty much everything that was broken, soiled, etc. 

Story time!

     • Ladybug’s secret as a sorceress remains intact, but... it turns out as a civilian, she’s not as lucky.

     • Marinette performs a purification spell on an Akuma she finds fluttering about in the school hallway, thinking that no one is around to see her. False. Adrien, who had just got back from a photoshoot, sees her, and nearly has an aneurysm. 

     • Adrien quickly hides under the stairs and watches as Marinette walks back into the classroom, and has a silent freak out. He asks Plagg if Ladybug can purify akumas outside of the suit, to which the kwami replies hell no, which just makes the whole thing a thousand times more confusing. 

     • He asks if Hawkmoth can purify his own akuma. Plagg says yeah, technically, and Adrien is even further dying because omg is Marinette Hawkmoth and if she is why the fuck did she just purify her own akuma??? WAS THAT OLD MAN’S FACE AND VOICE FROM THE BEGINNING JUST A COVERUP SO THAT NO ONE WOULD SUSPECT HER??? HOW COULD THE SWEETEST GIRL IN THE WORLD BE A TERRORIST WHAT IS GOING ON???

     • Adrien has to walk into class, sit down, and go through the rest of the day pretending as if absolutely nothing is wrong. Plagg, for some reason, finds this entire thing hilarious, but Adrien is not fucking laughing. 

     • At the end of the day, he transforms into Chat Noir, runs to her place, sees her in front of the bakery, and pretty much kidnaps Marinette. Like, straight up snatches her off the street. 

     • She has quite a few Words for Chat Noir when he finally puts her down on some random rooftop a far distance away from her home, but he doesn’t really let her start, instead immediately interrogating her.

     • “Are you Hawkmoth? What are your reasons for terrorizing Paris? How did you come into possession of the butterfly miraculous? Why on earth would someone as kind as you ever twist the negative emotions of the very people you care about? What—”

     • “I’m sorry, but what the fuck?”

     • Marinette is furious. Furious enough that she just fucking decks the superhero in the face, and attempts to stomp away, because she refuses to deal with a fucking idiot. Unfortunate, the cat has other plans, so he grabs her wrist and keeps her in place.

     • “Let me go!” “Answer my questions!” “I’M NOT ANSWERING THE QUESTIONS OF AN IDIOT WHO’S ACCUSING ME OF BEING SOMETHING I’M NOT WITHOUT ANY PROOF OR REASON!” “YOU ABSORBED THE ENERGY OF A FREAKING AKUMA IN YOUR SCHOOL HALLWAY!”

     • Everything’s quiet for a moment while Marinette settles that information in her head. She lets out a quiet, but heartfelt ‘fuck’ from under her breath. Chat takes this as a sign of admission and demands that she hands over the butterfly miraculous.

     • So... at this point, if she wants to clear her name, she really doesn’t have any other option than to... out herself. And technically, the rules apply to nonmagical people, and Chat Noir... has magic. So it’s not really breaking the rules, right?

     • “Chat. It was a spell. I performed a spell. I don’t have the butterfly miraculous, I’m the fucking real-life version of Matilda here. I figured out a spell replicating Ladybug’s purification magic. I’m a sorceress, Chat.”

     • Chat’s response is “You’re a what?” Quite frankly, this is beginning to sound eerily similar to Harry Potter, except the conversation is somehow inverted.

     • “The Dupain and Cheng families are two extensive families with a knack for magic, and are both well-known in the magical community. I’m a sorceress in training.”

     • Okay. So. He may have a magical ring, and he may run around Paris in a magical skintight leather catsuit, but this is a little too much. So, in response, he demands that Marinette proves it. On a random rooftop. In public. With people down below taking pictures of their local superhero. Yeah, great idea Chat, you fucking moron—

     • She proves it by zipping his lips shut and refusing to undo it until he brings her back home. Not before loudly wondering if she would do Paris a favour by leaving him like that. (In her defense, he seriously pissed her off.)

     • She undoes it the moment her feet meets the floorboards of her balcony. 

     • “I believe you now.”

     • “I’d call you a fucking idiot if you didn’t believe me at this point.”

     • Chat Noir goes home that day and proceeds to scream into his pillow.

Adrien Knows Now

     • Turns out, hiding the fact that you know someone else’s secret is, like, a million times harder than keeping your own secret. He can’t help but focus on Marinette wherever she goes now, because, well... What other magic has she been doing without anyone noticing? 

     • He notices that she talks to her bag sometimes, which would be weird if he noticed that before he found out she’s basically a witch. (Sorceress, she said, but really? She’s a witch. It’s easier to call her a witch. Just... not to her face.) He wonders if she has some magical being in there, or a familiar, or maybe she even enchanted her bag so it has a soul or— or something. 

     • He catches her conjuring up a mock-up version of Lucky Charm and nearly has a heart attack. The item isn’t spotted, so he knows it’s not a real one, but that’s still... wow. 

     • He realises one day after leaving his Marinette Lucky Charm at home by accident that his luck all of a sudden got worse... And then he comes to the abrupt realisation that it may actually be fucking lucky. Marinette gave him an ACTUAL good luck charm. 

     • Does Alya know? He keeps trying to make sly conversation with Alya about what... other things Marinette can do, but he’s come to the conclusion that Alya definitely doesn’t know. In fact, he’s pretty sure he accidentally gave her the impression that he was asking if Marinette can do... stuff in the bedroom, which is why Alya’s been high-key hating him since that conversation. She doesn’t let him go anywhere near Marinette now. (Plagg finds this hilarious. Plagg can shut the fuck up.)

     • He corrects the misunderstanding later by saying he was asking if Marinette can crochet, too, and that he forgot the word for it. Alya believes him, but he’s on thin fucking ice now. Watch yourself, Agreste.

     • Now every time he tries to talk to Marinette, Alya’s glaring at him over her shoulder. Which makes things infinitely harder, because at this point, he doesn’t think he can keep the fact that he knows Marinette’s secret from her any longer. He needs to tell her but... How is he supposed to do that with Alya always there, silently threatening to skin him alive???

     • He finds his answer shortly after. He knocks on the Dupain-Cheng’s front door, gets invited in, and— and apparently, they forgot that they had a floating flowerpot beside their window. He doesn’t need to confront Marinette at all. He just needed to catch her parents in the act. 

     • They’re freaking the hell out, and Adrien realises now that he doesn’t really need to make up an excuse as to how he figured out Marinette is a witch. (Sorceress. Whatever.) He’s pretty sure if he confronted her about cleansing the Akuma, she might suspect that he’s Chat Noir. Because she’s smart like that. (Lmao Adrien... you have no idea how oblivious this girl is.)

     • M. and Mme. Dupain-Cheng give him a lesson on their history and stress the importance of keeping this a secret. In fact, they go into detail about their family and it’s— it’s fascinating. Holy hell is it fascinating. Marinette is, like, magic royalty or something, not just “well known.” And a prodigy, at that. Each member of the Cheng family even have their own titles, all written down in some ancient book with an unlimited amount of pages, including the achievements of each member. Marinette doesn’t have a title yet, she will when she completes an important “test,” but she has... a whole page worth’s of achievements under her name. Apparently, she’s beaten the record for inventing the most spells. “She’s just so creative,” Sabine says. “She’s always coming up with ideas, and she doesn’t like to leave a single one unfinished. She’ll always keep trying until she brings her idea to life.”

     • Marinette comes home to find Adrien flipping through her family’s super fucking secret ancestry book in front of her parents and nearly has a straight up heart attack. So. Her crush knows now. Along with the beloved Parisian cat superhero, but her parents don’t know that nor will they ever. She can,,, she can deal with this. 

     • She can’t deal with this. She has two different blond boys attacking her with questions at different times of day and, honestly, she never thought she could lose her patience with either one of them so quickly and horribly. Especially with Adrien. She’s three seconds away from snapping at him for asking her a question in public again. It’s a secret for a reason, you dumb sunshine child!!! You’re so lucky I love you!!!

     • Alya is baffled as to why Marinette is trying so hard to avoid Adrien now. It’s a... very new development. Her suspicions with him grow, like, 100000% and she goes to ask him what the FUCK did he pull with her best friend, and he desperately tries to convince her that he didn’t do anything for fuck’s sake Alya stop scARING THE SHIT OUT OF ME I SWEAR I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING

     • Chat Noir is trickier to avoid. In fact, she can’t avoid him. He comes to her and either kidnaps her off the streets or from school, or waits on her balcony and receptively knocks on her glass window until she gets so annoyed that she has no choice but to let him in, for the sake of her own sanity. 

     • She gets used to Chat Noir leaning his head on her shoulder while she makes potions for her training and tests. In fact, his purring is calming, although she’d never admit that to him. He only really knows for sure that Marinette actually enjoys his company when she invites him to her milestone ceremony, where she finally earns her permanent title through a test. It was an exciting night.

The Reveal

     • The reveal happens when Ladybug decides to break her promise to Tikki and perform magic whilst in the mask. She didn’t want to, but it was an emergency situation— her miraculous almost got destroyed. Oh, and, uh, herself too. She almost died along with the miraculous. Obviously, she had to do something. Tikki will understand.

     • She pulled the spell off without a hitch, but she does admit that it felt... very strange. She can’t put her finger on it. But whatever, she stopped the time surrounding a destructive beam, suspending it midair. She turns, ready to take on the akuma, and then she sees Chat’s face and— and there’s realisation there. He knows. He’s spent enough time with Marinette to know how a sorceress performs her spells. 

     • It doesn’t take long for him to piece together her identity. And it doesn’t take long for him to have an absolute freak out over it. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, remarkable sorceress, designer of a Jagged Stone album cover and glasses, winner of a Gabriel Agreste fashion contest, class president... and also, apparently, the fucking superhero of Paris. She is... so ridiculously far out of his league, it’s not even funny. He’s screwed. SCREWED. It’s over. He’s going to die alone, with, like, a million cats. (Hah.)

     • Once Adrien gets over his complete meltdown, he and Marinette are able to talk to each other. She sits him down in her room, wraps him in a blanket, gives him a mug of hot cocoa and a plate of cookies, and lets him meet Tikki. Everything is a lot less terrifying and awkward after that. They end up staying up late, Marinette now feeling as if she can share everything with Chat.

     • "My lady... Don’t you want to know who I am, too?” “You don’t need to reveal anything right now, chaton. Tell me when you think it’s the perfect moment. I don’t wanna overwhelm you. Or me. Either of us.”

     • He tells her after she finally gains her title, and asks her out on a date. Her answer is a resounding hell yes— except he shouldn’t be too excited, because apparently he’s been twice as annoying as she thought he was being, so he’s not allowed to see her at night for the next month. This is what he gets for badgering her as both Adrien and Chat Noir.

     • Alya is very, very confused by how Marinette suddenly goes from one day completely avoiding Adrien’s very existence, to telling her she and him are dating. What the hell happened, here?

I hope you guys liked this AU for Spoopy Month. If you’re wondering about Sabine and Marinette’s titles, it’s Sabine the Decisive and Marinette the Creative.

I can see Adrien as being the type to create... huge misunderstandings bc he keeps saying things that accidentally sound offensive, suggestive, or passive aggressive without meaning to. It’s a personal hc of mine. 

I had an entirely different draft for this exact AU with a different storyline, one that I may post in like... the far future. But for now, I like the way this one turned out. The other draft is significantly less organised. (Although, the other draft has sorceress reveals for ALL of Marinette’s friends, and it’s great. Uuuugh, I was so conflicted over which one to post. I might call the other one the Witch AU and keep this one the Sorceress AU.)

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 29

I helped clean up the dishes, and he emptied all our trash into the dumpster behind the shop before we journeyed to the next stealthy location on his to-do list. I made sure to cork the pricey wine bottle so I could take the last bit home to sip on in bed with him, not wanting to waste a drop of the bittersweet goodness. Colton peeled off his jacket to drape over my bare back since the evening temperatures had chilled noticeably, then we locked up and he offered his aid to the car, considering my acutely inebriated state.

Instead of following the traffic further into the eventful side of town, we made a left and headed off towards the outskirts. It was a part of Pittsburgh that normally would have me on edge consider the late hour, but with Colton at the wheel there was truly never any reason to fear. He wasn’t a certified superhero, or a proclaimed savior of humanity, but I felt he was my own personal, daunting vigilante. I was independent, and capable on my own, but with him I could be fearless.

I looked out the side window as the streetlights and skyscrapers became scarce, and felt the dizzy aftershock of the merlot floating through my veins, creating a warm blaze over my cheeks. Rolling the window down a crack for some cool breeze to chill my alcoholic hot flash, we turned on the very familiar street where Mac’s gym used to sit. I stretched in my seat to get a good look around, continuing the trend of confusion.

“You okay, Livvy?” Colton tested as he parallel parked directly in front of the cloudy, dust stained windows of the unoccupied building.

“Yeah, just a little hazy from the wine is all. And wondering what we’re doing here.”

He only half-smiled and opened the door, gesturing for me to follow suit. Checking carefully for any oncoming vehicles, I slung open the passenger side to meet my offered escort on the sidewalk. The “A” of the sign above the doorway was cracked and barely hanging on by some sketchy wires, and the street number that was stickered on the glass was pared and faded. I felt instantly sad for Colt seeing the current state his once second home. In fact, it had probably been more of a home to him than the old, dingy apartment he was held up in when we first met, considering the innumerable hours he spent training here.  As our steps accidently synced in speed toward Mac’s, Colton tore away a graffiti marked “For Sale” sign heftily tapped to the glass. He disconnected our hands to pull a key tucked away in a pocket of his wallet…

Shards of broken glass from the overhead lights furthermore shattered as we walked over the polluted floor of the abandoned gym. Most of the equipment remained intact and the ring still stood in its place, only now stained a bit with the passing year of lacked maintenance. A red-wrapped box, taped with a black bow had been placed in its center, which I gathered was exactly where Colton was dragging me. He gaped the stretchy, leather-like ropes open and grasped my forearm to keep me from woozily face planting. From side glance, I watched him drink in the sight of my leaning figure, and the spilling out of cleavage as I did so.

“I hate seeing the place like this. I know it has to be pretty brutal for you too, babe.” I weakly slurred in a sympathized manner.

“This place got a lotta memories, for sure. For the both of us, hm?” He approached me from behind covering me in a bear hug, kissing the crook of my neck, and inhaling in my most customary scent. A reminder of the first night we spent together standing in that very spot made the echo of our moans, and the feel of his hands on me play back like a fantasy in my mind, and I sunk further into his body.

“Be careful talking about such things, Ritter. I might just be drunk enough to let you take advantage of me right here again.”

“As much as I need to get my hands on you, you should open ya’ present first.” He suggested, nudging me onward with a pat to the behind.

I squatted to lift the box, and felt the barely-there weight of its contents. Colt remained in observance over my shoulder, quietly inspecting for a reaction as I worked my nails over the knotted, silk bow closure. It fell to my feet, tickling over my exposed toes in the stilettoes I wore, and I then dropped the cardboard lid shortly after. Lined with tissue paper inside, the black gloves Colton wore to fight Danny Mendez were laid next to each other. The grained leather was softer than when I had first gifted him with them, now broken in and loose due to the blows thrown, and punches blocked.

“Colton. These belong to you, babe. I don’t even deserve a pair this nice. And besides, they have your name on ‘em, silly.” I reasoned, turning slow to face my one-man audience.

“I think I can maybe do somethin’ about that little name issue, pretty girl.”

Suddenly, the crisp box and its contents crashed to the floor, falling buoyantly from my now numb hands. Instead of spinning around to meet his smiling eyes, I had to sink my sights to discover him knelt a few feet from me, caressing a square velvet case.

“Colton, what ar-.”

“You listen, ‘n let me talk this time, baby.”

Uncontrollable outlines of mascara black tears initiated abruptly, and the white noise of passing traffic, and distant sirens ceased.

“The second I looked into those bright emerald eyes of yours Livvy, a fuse kicked inside me. All those emotions that I had turned off a long time ago, fuckin’ came roaring back. The typical me, woulda walked right out that morning with a coffee to-go, without a second thought. But it was like every time I looked back at ya’, I swear I could literally feel my heartbeats inside of me. I coulda counted them out loud, Liv. You had me in this… this trance or somethin’. You know I ain’t gonna say all this the way you deserve to hear it, but I need you to know what you are to me, Elliott. How much you mean t’ me.”

I could hear his voice crack under the pressure he had put on himself, and the lump of tearful release he was trying to choke back into his throat.

“There’s a billion damn reasons why I don’t deserve ya’. We both know that. But there’s another billion reasons why I want to. You’re the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met, and the only one I know who could get me laughin’ like a damn idiot the way you do. I love that you always have a little smudge of leftover makeup unda’ your eyes when you wake up every mornin’, and that you can have me beggin’ in desperation the second you put on a pair of those shoes like the ones ya’ wearin’ now. And don’t even get me started on how thrilled I get seeing you strapped into a pair of sparring gloves. As nervous sick as it gets me, I love it all the same. I ain’t never wanted to be a better man, babe. For myself, and sure as hell not for anyone else. But the man I am with you, the man you turn me into, is a far better one that I ever thought I could be. C’mere, Livvy baby. I ain’t gonna bite.”

Following the suggestive direction of his nod, I weakly closed the distance between us, and he took my chattering hand into his. He laughed, and tried to still the very obvious nervous, euphoric emotion coming through my skin.

“You are such a beautiful, loving, kind heart. Not to mention sexy in the most subtle ‘n real way. You’re strong as a fuckin’ ox, inside & out, and you sit my ass straight in line every day. God knows I need that. I want to spend the rest of my life being ya’ sidekick, and watchin’ you succeed with whatever your heart wants. I can’t promise I’ll be as perfect as all the otha’ men you truly deserve, and I need ya’ to be patient wi’ me when I get all caught up in me head. There ain’t nobody else I’d rather have nursin’ my wounds after a fight, or eatin’ a whole gallon of ice cream with on a cheat day. You’re my only light, and any chance I have at bein’ a decent man is only because of you. So, Liv Caroline Elliott, will you marry me?”

The flawless solitaire sent iridescent beams of sparkle bouncing across the ceiling as the light caught it in Colton’s suddenly shaking hand. The stone was impressively hefty in carats, and was uniquely chiseled into the shape of an octagon. I knew that little quality wasn’t just a coincidence, and Colt had made this purchase with careful consideration and lots of preparation. His dedicated search for the perfect diamond to join the two of us together was a thoughtful sentiment no one could refute.

He bore his soul without question, so unnaturally against his nature, and let his every emotion spring forth for me to potentially criticize and dismiss. The metamorphosis I had witnessed overtake him the last months satisfied my hearts every yearning, and I knew fully that Colton Ritter was the only man who would ever fill the shoes of my true love. As tears began saturating his soft, bristle-like eyelashes too quick for him to conceal and rub away with his shirt sleeve, I wordlessly nodded an accepting, smiling ‘yes.’

“You ain’t gettin’ off that easy 2-1. A man’s gotta hear you say it.”

“Yes, Colton. Yes, yes, yes! A hundred times over, yes. I will marry you. Only if you promise me, to stop selling yourself so short and trying to convince the world what a monster you are. When it comes to the cage, sure you’re unforgiving and dangerous. But otherwise, we both know that’s so far from the truth. Whether I’m the only lucky individual who gets to see it behind closed doors or not, you’re so kind. And you’re the most loyal man I have ever met. Any time I’ve been lucky enough to spend with you, have been the best minutes of my entire life. And when I happen to think about the time passed without you, I cringe at the memories we could’ve made. I want nothing more than to spend whatever life I have left by your side.”

The feeling of the cool silver band as he slid it with ease over the knuckle of the proper finger sent a tsunami of wedding color schemes, and potential venues flooding into my train of thought. Never was I the girl for fairy tales, and tulle and princes riding in to rescue the damsel, but the countless possibilities of marital bliss with Colton had birds chirping and singing around my head.

My newly crowned fiancé lunged in to seal the celebration with a deep kiss, pulling me into him by a hand on the back of my neck. The sticky tears wetting his face mixed with my own as our faces touched in embrace, and Colton dipped me like the closing move of a Salsa dance, laughing when I yelped in surprise.

“What is it about this little place, I wonder? It seems Mac’s has been pretty important to us over the last years.” I pointed out, as he kissed the fine jewelry now situated on my finger.

“Yeah…… Well, uhm... About that…”

I looked at him through slit eyes, and cocked a quizzical, suspicious brow at what had him so apparently tongue tied.

“You’re right. This shit hole has been pretty damn important t’ me. And a’ course, to us too. I can’t stand to see it just sittin’ here. Rotting.”

“I’m sure if there was anything Mac could do, sweetheart, he would’ve already. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the next owner will give it a good makeover, y’know? Freshen it up.” I attempted to cheer him up with positive outlook, and cheery suggestions.

“Oh, I think you right. The next owner is gonna get this place back on its feet, and back to it’s roots. Some new bags first thing, and a definite fuckin’ fumigating.” His nose crinkled as he looked around at the mildewed ceiling.

“It sold? Someone finally bou-“

I froze, and Colton’s instantaneous smile furthermore proved my suspicions. He had torn down that weathered ‘for sale’ sign before we came inside, and the little key tucked in his wallet should’ve been my tell-tale.

“COLTON?! It’s yours? You bought it? How? Whe-“

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. Take a breath, ya’ crazy chatterbox. Yes, I bought it. And yes, it’s OURS.” Colton annunciated the significance of ‘ours’ in his confession, assuring I understood that this cherished little corner of a rickety, dark corner block in Pittsburgh now belonged to us. Together.

“I was thinkin’… How does 21 Punches sound to you? I mean, I’d like to have Mac maybe be a manger for me, y’know, when I can’t be here ‘n stuff. But I do wanna change that sign out front.”

Invisible atoms of a tranquil fog consumed the every corner of being, and my legs felt insubstantial on a cloud of celestial contentment. This stiff as cement man, who seemed to turn to near wet, molding clay in my presence wanted to name his most prized possession after a silly, what I viewed as irrelevant, high school basketball number from my ancient days as a Westfield Warrior. I half expected a hidden crowd to jump out into a surprise party, or a horse drawn carriage to wheel up outside to seal the finishing touches on an evening of unadulterated shock and romance.

“I think you’re the best thing about this smelly, foggy, freezing city. And I think you should take me home right now, and let me show you exactly how amazing I think you are.”

Forgetting any class or feminine daintiness, I grabbed firmly around the bulge of his thin, extremely well-fitting slacks and parted two buttons of his shirt to tickle his beating chest.

“Home? We own the place now, ya’ naughty lil’ thing. I could just take ya’ right fuckin’ now if I wanted to.”

“Slide your hand under this dress and get to it then, Mr. Ritter.” I sighed fervently into his ear, sloppily sucking his neck just under the line of his beard.

The lack of undergarments he discovered as he used two fingers to crawl up the side of my leg caused him to groan out hauntingly.

“Your wish, is my fuckin’ command, Mrs. Ritter.”

tags: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

[pass3rby]

Element of Surprise

#1

Fandom: X-men (movies) Pairing: Allerdrake (Pyro/Iceman) Summary: Everybody has to make decisions. Decisions that might or might not work out. He wasn’t in a habit of looking back either way.

A/N: 

Greatest thanks to my brother from another mother for bestowing an infectious prompt upon me and all the wretched jokes that accompanied his insightful comments. You’ve been a great help and an ass at the same time.  The rest of my gratitude belongs to my dear family who has an immaculate sense of recognizing each highlight and “I saw the light!” moment of my writing, reliably and effectively ruining every single one of them. You’ve been an invaluable teacher of forced multitasking (which I still fail at spectacularly).  Thank you, guys, for harassing me at the most unfortunately-picked times imaginable but standing by me still.  Love you.

St. John Allerdyce was a survivalist. And this might be a very sucky way to begin one's story, but he was nothing but cut-the-crap kind of guy, so go deal.

Where was he again? Ah, yes. Good at the pretend game, he knew how to play tough; easily irked when deprived of a fire source. Bad-tempered, really. All of these stellar qualities went well with him being a realist to the bone. Wrap it up and ship it off.

He wasn't confessing all that out of some twisted delusion of having a chance at redemption, though. Wanting to save his tar-dark soul? No. It was only so that when he says that he's done morally questionable things to pull through, it would be clear that it was no slip up, not a 'few times' kind of deal. He's actually done them more often than not. Not that he counted; just saying. That was what he meant by being a survivalist. That was what this was about.

The main point here? He kept on going. Always found a way. Pushed. Squeezed in. Got his hands dirty. Gritted his teeth. Whatever it took. Morality was overrated where he lived; nobody abided by it anyway, so why should he? He was just a 'misfit' trying to get by, same as the next guy from a broken home.

On the streets and on his own. Making it, no matter the circumstances. That was the source of his pride. He might have turned out brash as a result, distrusting on a good day and suspicious round the clock, but who gave a shit. Certainly not him, not when it kept him alive this whole time.

When the X-men found him, he didn't feel elation; not even relief and he was far from thankful, too. He suspected the worst and he kept on running from them until they corralled him in and got him on their overly flashy and disgustingly impressive jet.

They took him in; full of reassurances that he'll be alright from then on, that he'll be safe now. Who were they to tell him that? Who were they to be so sure about it, to have balls to warrant that? What was the guarantee? Their skin-tight black&yellow spandex? If so, allow him to doubt the empty promise, because those were a sight for sore eyes – literally, just to make them sore.

Everything would work itself out and quite naturally in its usual, wary and solitary way, though (after all, once you lean onto someone, you're only bound to fall sooner or later) – if only they didn't have Bobby Drake on their "team" already.

The guy was way too cheery and overly friendly. Optimistic. An impersonification of a 'Think positive!' attitude, "Not made from concentrate, one hundred percent natural". It was almost like he was shooting for some such ad twenty-four seven. Think about the descriptive adjectives for a straight-laced goody two shoes from suburbs; you name it, he's that.

Everything was perfect.

Everything was dandy.

Bullshit.

He couldn't stand the guy. The poster boy irritated him; got on his nerves like no one else before. John was way too pragmatic to join this sort of let's pretend. But when dear Bobert started cracking, show that not everything was quite so well in his lala land… That's when John took real notice and interest.

You see, he couldn't be arsed to give a flying fuck about some fake looser, but a kid who had his whole life perfectly lined up and sorted only to get "screwed over" by mutation his parents wouldn't take well to? That was John's kind of real that he was willing to interact with.

Sure, Drake was still a sunny boy with majority of views intact and therefore headdesk-ishly naive, but he wasn't all plain "guy next door" (quotation marks because same door actually) anymore. And while John's own personality and stands had been torn down or have crumbled and been rebuilt time and time again, making him into who he was (coincidentally basically the opposite of his roommate), he and the Snowflake there suddenly had a link of communication and it held ever since then. Thus, their companionship begun.

It didn't hurt they both were element-sensitive – that wasn't to say their co-existing was a cakewalk, though. After all, like Ice and Fire, they too were diametrically different. Just a small example to draw a picture here: while Bobby was afraid of his abilities, scared of his element, John felt an undeniable thrill whenever setting free his own; he loved to see fire reign over anything in its way, watch it burn strong.

Ultimately, their mindsets resulted in both of them failing and it was all for the best that they were roommates in the end, because accidents.

Reason number two was that they were a good "confidence boost" and "recklessness dampener" (whatever) respectively for each other, too. That's what their instructors said, but if anybody asked John what it was for him, he just simply enjoyed coaxing Sub-Zero ("Very funny, you pyromaniac." "C'mon, that was weak. You'll have to do better than that, Ice Cube.") out of his shell, letting his fire frolic with its counter element. Negative and positive of the same, if you wanted to get poetic.

Of course, there was also the aspect of them both being young and as such, hormone-driven, too. He was always open to some serious self-exploring opportunity. Safe environment for that wasn't a given, not for him, and even less so in combination with someone begrudgingly-trustworthy (i.e. with no other agenda hidden behind the forementioned romping between the sheets).

It was nothing; just fooling around – one that was kept secret from their teachers and anyone, really, since Bobby-boy was too chickenshit to admit to a healthy dose of experimenting himself. John couldn't care less; he wasn't the guy's keeper after all.

Until he somehow turned out to be. What was worse? Without him even expecting it. You see, the thing was… he kinda screwed himself over. For all his puffed-up chest and big shoulders about how he was prudent and cautious, he landed himself in a swamp (or moving sand if he'd so chose to rather stay dry; same difference, though) right there. Knee deep and it was only a matter of time until it swallowed him up whole.

It was all the Ice-berk's ("I'm not stupid, John!" "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.") fault. If he wasn't so pure and open and easy to approach – hell, he, approaching him all of his own! – in the first place, John wouldn't have fallen into this trap.

Who was he kidding. He blew it. Big time.

But it was still all good, right? What he meant was, there was no rush or anything. They could simply keep at it the way they had up til now with Ice Ice Bobby none the wiser and everyone chilling, pun intended.

He should have known that he was never meant to have a happy end. Not ever (as if life hadn't showed him enough indications to that already) and definitely not with Snow White on top of that. When had he sunken so low as to think he even could?

Shame. Shame on you, St. John Allerdyce.

As he was forced to witness and live the changes that wafted in after Rogue's appearance and continued presence, years of evolved camaraderie and any ease connected to it began to shrivel.

He had suddenly more free time on his hands than what he knew what to do with, his subconsciousness developed an almost uncontrollable need for a facepalm at least once per every 24 hour mark, his teeth were bound to rot any day now with the diabetes-inducing teenage romance developing before his eyes and he better man-the-fuck-up right now, because he did not make it this far only to become a sob story.

So, he watched with skeptical interest as Bobby, encouraged by Rogue's supporting words, froze his mother's disgustingly milk-ruined coffee instead. John knew long before they had even opened their mouths, what side Bobby's parents would pick, what their reaction would be. He could not keep his sarcastic thoughts pointed at his roommate from emerging then.

Why did you think, all of a sudden, they won't mind? We talked about your bigoted parents so many times… You think that you having a girlfriend like a good, normal teenage boy somehow neutralizes your negative mutant points?

If not knowing better, John would say Bobby did it on purpose just to fuck with him. Nobody could be that sickeningly foolish after all. And the Drakes? He silently dared them to surprise him; to call their "Art teacher" out on his blatant lie even. To prove him wrong.

Which would be when Wolverine got shot in the head right infront of them. That did surprise him, John will give them that.

An unexpected rush of everything followed right after and with startling clarity.

One too many black eyes.

Sleeping in a cardboard box, freezing (nobody cared).

Broken jaw.

Stealing a pack of matches the first time around – to get to feel at least a bit safe (they were too tricky to operate, to strike with shaking hands, wrong move there wrong wrong wrong).

Hungry, impotent anger.

Running away.

The breath; foul and heavy with booze.

First fire (pure accident please!).

His mother on the floor, bleeding (never fighting back; just taking it run!).

Heavy hands.

Cops chasing him back into slums (you'd have to know it here better to catch me, assholes).

Bloodshot bottomless eyes. A vortex about to swallow him up, too.

Events flashing before his mind's eye at random and in no chronological order.

His heart not having a foggiest how to deal with the overabundance of adrenaline that jumped up out of nowhere.

"And the rest of you, on the ground. Now."

He could almost physically feel Wolverine, right before his feet, lifeless.

See Bobby, lying down, obedient.

"Look, kid. I said, on the ground."

Rogue, too; docile.

They can't be serious. Why were they kidding themselves? They were gonna die here.

"We don't want to hurt you, kid."

Really. The fucking cop just shot Wolverine. If they won't protect themselves… They're dead. If he's not gonna do anything now…

He gulped. Palmed his zippo; the warmed-up steel that bit slicker with sweat. Or sick memory?

C'mon, Pyro, show up. Fight.

In the pit of his stomach, hot magma twisted and curled, warming him up until he could almost sense the licks of unborn fire on his fingertips.

There.

He won't lie down. Not until he's six feet under.

A/N: So I’ve found something of a themesong for EoS I think. If you’re wondering, you can check it here.

A bit of explanation on a side:

My idea is that St. John Allerdyce still has Australian background, he just moved to US with his family when he was a small kid or something. So... just bear with the little mess, please. I love him being "St. John" way too much as to delete half of it from my story.

Also, I’ll deviate a bit from the movies timeline (which is a tangle anyway) in this version (I got two total, don’t panic), which you’ll notice on the transition from X-2 movie to X-3.

[lillianwrites]

Sad Hearts And Black Eyes

A/n: I’m on mobile so I can’t do a cut sorry:( enjoy chapter 2 of I have no idea how many chapters this will be

Words: about 1.5k

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“What the hell are you doing?”

Phil turned around, dropping the lid, shocked to find Daniel staring at him, anger and distrust in his eyes. The boy looked like he was five seconds from running and calling the police, his body already set to turn around. His eyes scanned the closet, clearly untrusting of the Older man. Phil was confused on what the boy was doing, until he saw his eyes fall on something, before quickly reaching his hands out, grabbing a baseball bat with a curvy signature aligning down the length. He stepped forward, and posed to swing, but Phil was already up.

He quickly grabbed Daniels arms and twisted to the left, causing him to gasp in pain and drop the bat, he then twisted them over to the right and pinned him to the wall, face first. He heard the sound of the boys face connecting with the wall, and then a soft whimper. Phil waited a second, pressing the boy harder to the wall, making sure he couldn't get away. The kid really needed to learn not to attack people when he looked like a goddamn toothpick, but Phil was kind of impressed, that had to have taken guts.

“Alright, look kid, i dont do this whole attacking thing, dont swing if you aren't prepared to be hit back. if i wanted to kill you, you would be damn well dead right now, got me?” Daniels head quickly began to nod, Phil couldn't see his face, but he thought he heard sniffling. “Now, i need to know a few thing about your fat--” Phil was cut off by the electricity in the closet cutting out, the room bathed in darkness, besides the light from the windows in the bedroom. The air was cold, and he found himself shivering, as his breath became visible in front of his face.

“Mr. O’brein?” Daniel asked, looking over his shoulder at Phil, but Phil was a bit busy thinking. This was a demon deal, he's positive, but then why would a spirit be after Daniel? Surely the boy couldn't havw killed anyone, the kid looked like the stereotypical 18 year old virgin, but that doesn't mean anything he's learned. Phil sighed, letting go of the boy, trying to think of what could be happening.

“Mr. O’brein!” He heard Daniel scream. He was pointing towards the closet door, where a lady stood, hair messed up and blood staining what looked like a white sunday dress. She had a dark scowl on her face, and she faded and re-appeared every other couple of seconds. she observed Daniel, barely sparing a glance at Phil, before rushing forward with an god awful screech.

Phil rushed forward in front of Daniel, grabbing his iron necklace from his shirt pocket and quickly swinging it through the woman, who shrieked in agony before quickly turning to them, but Phil had already grabbed onto Daniels hand, grabbed onto the box, and began running, heading through the bedroom and down the stairs.

They were almost to the front door, when all of sudden the lady appeared once again, screeching as she grabbbed onto Daniel, whose face was pale white as he screamed, tears streaming down his face. Phil hurriedly ran to the car, slamming the trunk open and grabbing his shotgun full of rocksalt before shooting at her, causing her to yell once again, before she was gone, and Phil was grabbing Daniel, who was looking worse by the second and shoving him in the passenger seat.

“Look, I’ll explain later, were going to the motel in town where i'm staying, i need you to take this-” He said handing the gun to Daniel after checking it was off of safety, “- and if she shows again, aim and shoot her.” He said getting into the car, before pulling out quickly and speeding through the town.

Daniels only response so far was a few blinks and a bunch of sniffing. Phil understood, the first time he had been attacked by a ghost, he didn't sleep for a week.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The motel was dark and empty when they pulled in, and once they were out of the car, Phil was shuffling Daniel inside, before creating salt lines from all of the windows and the door. Once he deemed the room ghost proof, he turned to Daniel, who was quietly sitting, and honestly he appeared to be in shock. ‘Poor kid.’

“Okay, you’ll be safe in here, now look, im gonna be explaining a lot of things, but i need you to try and stick with me here, it's gonna be a bit crazy.” He said. Daniels response was a small “Okay.”

“I’m a hunter to the kind of things you just saw. I've been doing this for years, and i know what i'm doing, but this case has me a bit confused, so i'm gonna need your help with a few details i seem to be missing. Look i'm pretty sure the death of your father was a demon, hell hounds are the ones that would tear him apart, also his heart was intact so not a werewolf. I need any reasons why your father would make a deal, and who the hell that woman was, and why she wants you.” He said. Daniel was looking at him, his eyes wide and lips parted, like he couldn't believe it was real, like he couldn't believe Phil was real.

“Look, whether you believe me or not, you're in danger, and i'm here to help you, so please just tell me if you've seen her.” He sighed, god he haed those reactions.

Daniel didnt speak for another minute, before he slowly stuttered out “I think so..but i think i only saw her from a box in my dad's clo-” He was cut off by Phil pulling out the box that had set off the small machine a while ago. He quickly pulled off the lid and began to search throught he box, finding old law papers in the top, until he got to the middle contents, and saw a newspaper, the headline reading “Local Man being charged with the hit and run of Emily Coswell. Husband demands answers.”

A picture of the priest was below, the cameras clearly not by choice of the man. His hand was held up above his face, an angry expression flowing from his eyes and mouth. He read the date, cursing silently.

“Daniel, when did yall move here and begin your new start here?” Phil asked. Daniel looked over at him before saying “About ten years ago, why?” He asked confused, voice a bit shaky.

Phil cursed under his breath, as he began to dig through it all, until he found a picture of the hit and run victim. “God damn it!” Phil sighed.

“okay, things just got a bit tricky, Your father sold his soul, which means a demon was the one to “Kill” him ,and since the spirit could not intervene with hell, she’s after you.” He said before looking through the rest of the paper, hoping to find a burial site.

“Emily Coswell was decided to be cremated this Sunday.” he read sighing. “This just got a lot harder.” He said looking at Daniel.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Okay, as far as they’re concerned, you're with me simply for protection, so just act scared and don't say anything, if you say something wrong, we’re fucked.” Phil said to Daniel as they walked into the police station, hoping to find the necklace Emily Coswell was wearing when she was hit. According to Daniel, his father kept the necklace in his breast pocket, and if Phils right, it might be what kept her here, and with the priest dying, it set her free to go after Daniel.

Daniel walked behind Phil, head down, and if Phil wasn't worried about being killed, he probably would have found it hot at how submissive he actually was, but more important matters were at hand.

They had t pass two offices and the main desk before reaching the entrance to the evidence room, where they quickly went over trying to find Daniels fathers clothes and possessions. Inside the small box was a pair of stained khaki pants, a white button down shirt full of blood and ripped, a wallet, a ring, and a small blue necklace.

“Okay, if i'm correct, this necklace should be what's holding her here, so we need to head to the house and burn it, quick-” The lights in the room were shut off, and the temperature seemed to have dropped around 20 degrees,Phil watched in dread as the lights began to slowly come back on, only to start flickering, making a soft hum in the otherwise quiet room.

“Shit, okay Daniel we don't have time to drive, we need to get to the car, and now!” he said grabbing Daniels hand, but Daniel wasn't moving, eyes trained on the angry woman behind Phil, who leapt at Daniel With determination, a cry leaving her undead lips. She flew through Phil, leaving him shivering, as she grabbed onto Danies neck, pinning him to the wall and starting to choke him.

Daniels eyes were filled with tears, and he was making small hiccuping sounds as he tried to get enough air in. Phil had finally shook off the weird feeling, and ran to the woman, hitting her with an iron knife he had in his boot, and grabbing Daniel, forcing him to start running as they made their way through the station, and into the parking lot. They made it to the car, but Phil was stopped as the man pounced on him, shrieking and yelling as she dug her “claws” into him, causing him to yell out and drop the necklace.

Phil wasn't winning this fight, and his vision was slowly turning to black, when the woman began yelling in pain, fire encasing her, until she slowly disappeared along with the grip on Phil. Phil was panting, confused, eyes gazing up, only to see Daniel with a lighter in his hand, waving sheepishly.

[elliemarchetti]

THIAM FIC PART 2

I finally figured out how to work from my pc! Since some of you liked my previously Thiam fic and since I already wanted to write a part 2, here we are, with some more Thiam angst and some Scolia cuteness. 

Words:2237

The tree house was a cube of six and a half feet on each side, so low that Liam could not stand up straight. He liked that place: it had an opening in which to slip and a window on the opposite wall. As a child he had placed an old stool, on which he put the cores of candle that he stole from his mother; he needed them to sneak out at night and enjoy the solitude. Even as a child, even before the Devenford Prep disaster and his transformation, Liam was a particular child. He never needed the tree house again, after his transformation and the first, terrible nights, but now it was different: his room’s walls seemed to suffocate him and he needed some fresh air, even if, in California, there was no fresh air, in February, just warm breaths of wind. Why does he needed to choose what to do with his life in February? And why he can’t be with his friends after all the time he spent with them? He needed to run away. He jumped down from the tree and stepped over the fence that divided the courtyard from the road. He had painted it a long time ago with his father, and already at the time, the gate creaked loudly.

Beacon Hills wasn’t a pretty place, but it was perfect for someone who doesn’t want to be noticed when he ran away from home at night for a supernatural run. No one went home late during the week, and anyone approaching the forest knew about the existence of werewolves and other such creatures, so that night, everything went smoothly. Liam saw no living soul on his way and went into the woods with his yellow eyes and fangs pressing on his fleshy bottom lip. If his mother saw him like that, she would have died of a heart attack, he knew. Liam had sometimes saw himself, in the reflection of shop windows or in some, sporadic mirror: it was not a good sight. After a long time, however, he had come to terms with his being and the need to hide began to get on his nerves: almost all of Beacon Hills knew of supernatural creatures. Except for his parents, of course, or they wouldn’t allow him to leave the house ever again, werewolf or not.

Liam felt himself observed, and turned, just to make sure no one was following him. Monroe's followers were no longer around, but there could be other fanatics ready to shoot him. He sniffed the air, for safety, motionless, with his back against a tree. There were no smells other than those of the forest, and no suspicious noises. Probably, by pretending to be a normal boy, he had begun to behave like one, scared by the night and by the woods sounds. After some time he cannot help himself and he turned back again. There was clearly something following him, but it could have been a wild animal, and as long as he did not have the rabies, he would not have to worry. He mentally reproached himself for his foolish behavior, but ran closer to the road, frightened by the possibility that whatever might follow him could take him into the woods, alone and impossible to save. If he had howled, so close to the road, some of his friends would have heard it before Lydia announced his death with one of her screams.

Liam abruptly stopped his run when he saw a big, surely not normal, black wolf, looking at him straight in the eyes. At first, he didn’t recognized Theo, but when he came closer, it was obvious it was he: he even had the same eye color. He reached out a hand slowly, hoping that the friend would let the space between his straight and pointed ears touched.

"Can I know what you are doing around in the middle of the night? Should not you sleep?" Liam asked, even though he knew that he would not be able to answer him. Finally, his fingertips reached the soft, thin coat of the wolf, who allowed him to caress his head for a few moments, before biting the boy's pale wrist playfully. "Cantankerous as usual, I see." Liam commented, throwing his arm down his side. It was a strange feeling, he could feel his humanity still intact, despite the yellow eyes, yet he felt perfectly at ease, crouched there, together with a wolf who could not answer, as if he were made for that life, as if the woods called him.

Theo, however, for a few moments would have liked to be able to leave aside his own humanity, let Liam caress his back and neck without having to regret it the next day. He would have liked that Liam could transform himself, that he would finally become an Alpha, that finally he was able to fully understand his own strength. In short, he would have liked many things to happen, but none would have been realized, so he stood up on all four legs, a clear sign that even Liam would have to get back on his feet.

"Do you want to follow me in my night run?" Liam asked, going over the wolf. He was certain that Theo would not attack him. Liam had been the first to allow himself to turn his back on what had once been their enemy: it had seemed a great sign of trust, and Theo seemed to have caught it.

With a small smile, Liam started to run again, deeper in the wood, this time, because with Theo he felt like he was invincible. They were a great team, like Sherlock and Watson, but Liam can’t figure out who should have been Sherlock and who should have called himself Watson.

Liam stopped, exhausted, and sat on the dry topsoil, his back against a tree. Theo felt sorry for Liam: he wasn’t tired, not even a bit. It was as if his friend was stopping himself to fit in someone else’s canons, and the letter he received from Pomona didn’t seemed to help him. In any case, that Theo was sorry or not, he should have left. Getting away from Beacon Hills would do him good, allowing him to grow up and make a normal life. Then, maybe, he would even find his ex-girlfriend, that idiot, at school. If he did not remember badly, before becoming a wolf, he was good at some sport, so a scholarship was almost assured now. Or it was Scott’s ex, the lacrosse player? It didn’t mattered, anyway. He hated both. And he even had to kiss Hayden to make one of his plans worked! Looking back at it, it was unbelievable to him how high school girls could be silly. Because of a kiss, both Hayden and Tracy believed him and they lowered their guard. If Theo had learned something from the terrible person he had been, it was always keeping his watch high and thinking the worst about people. Only with Liam he could not do it. He had tried several times, but the boy had always shown him to deserve his trust and respect. He was starting to be nicer even with Lydia, but perhaps he was only attracted by her immense power and the current aura of despair and self-pity that surrounded her. She was also a promising mind who had decided to stay in Beacon Hills against the wishes of her parents, a mind so promising to be willing to lie to the majority of people she loved just to stay in that hell she called home. Someday, that place would have killed her. And it would have happened to Liam too, if he had not hurried to decide to accept the place in Pomona. Everyone in that city seemed to be ready to give up something for the one they loved, like Mason who wanted to go to a worst college than the ones that offered a place for him to stay with his boyfriend.

As he tried to catch his breath, Liam watched Theo in his wolf form, as if he wanted to impress that moment in his mind. If he really had to leave for college, he wanted to remember every single reason why he should not have done it.

It was not usual to see Theo in his animal form; he always said he felt more vulnerable, like that. Liam believed, instead, that he preferred his human form only because in that way he could respond with sarcastic remarks to anyone who surrounded him.

It was more than a week that he did not see him and he really began to miss him a lot. He believed that, after that afternoon spent together in the suburbs, the need to see him and stand next to him would have faded for a while, but it seemed only to be increased, leaving a sense of terrible nostalgia for the moments they had spent together in the last year.

Theo also studied Liam. He was by far the nicest guy in town, not just in Beacon Hills High School. His brown hair, blue eyes, that spontaneous smile that lit up his still so childish face. He was changing, Theo had to admit it. The jaw began to be more squared and the cheeks more dug, a sign that the juvenile chubbiness would soon abandon the boy. He had also become more muscular, in the last period, as if he were training more consistently, pushing himself to the limit. In the dim light, Theo noticed that he also had deep dark circles. He must have slept too little recently. The black t-shirt and sweatpants he had decided to wear were worn, with holes in several places, like it was his in-the-woods running suit.

Theo would have sat all night watching him, but a noise he could not immediately define made him raise his ears. Liam must have heard it too. Even in the form of a wolf, Theo raised his eyes to the sky: he had imposed to himself only one task, and that was to keep safe that walking mess next to him, and the danger reached them there, in the woods. He had suffered for weeks, he had decided to stay away even when the only thing he wanted was to waste his time with him, to keep him away from any risk, and now how those hunters dared to approach them so, in the only moment of peace that Theo has allowed himself to have? He ran to the danger with a growl, hoping Liam had the good sense to follow him. The ideal would be for someone to escort him home, but there was no one else with them, and Theo preferred to have his friend in his field of view, rather than put him at risk. Moreover, in the various battles they had fought together, they had always been a great couple, certainly the best. Scott and Malia did not have the same chemistry, they could not think like a single person. Liam also thought it that way, or at least, with his terms. Their friendship reminded him of that of the Greek warriors in ancient poems, linked to their companions by a bond that some called almost supernatural. Much of their skill as warriors was due to the support of their companion, and if alone they were only good fighters, they were invincible together. And it was not good, because soon or later Liam would have to leave Theo's side and live a life of his own, even if he was nauseated at the thought.

They reached the source of the noise, and Liam almost fainted at the sight of that wolf so mammoth. He had never seen anything like it, not even Derek had evolved that way. In front of them a black beast, so similar to the beast of Gévaudan, who had taken possession of his best friend, was chasing a coyote. After the initial moment of shock, Liam noticed that what was clearly supposed to be another werewolf was much smaller, compared to Sebastien Valet, and that somehow, underneath that dark skin and furry hair, its features were still partly visible. It looked like a half-completed transformation, and not the half that they all shared when their mind was still human, but they needed a different force but  a half that tasted like failure. The first thing Theo noticed, however, was that the coyote that that werewolf was chasing was Malia. He had known her in her wolf form first and could hardly forget it. A wave of joy crossed his body: if that wolf wanted to do the dirty work for him and get rid of her, better for him. But that werewolf did not seem at all intent to hurt her, their chasing and letting go seemed more like a game than something dangerous. Liam was the first to recognize that family face so tormented.

"Scott?" Liam asked, amazed. The werewolf turned, and the monstrous expression on what was impossible to decide whether to call face or muzzle disappeared. Theo, in a moment of lucidity, was sad for him. His work was about to be judged by the one who had once treated like a son and, suddenly, had decided to betray

[desertiris91]

Pelican Bay

The Noah clan discovered their captive, Lavi Bookman Jr, possessed the Heart. It was no shock to anyone his comrades fought like hell to free him regardless of losing his exorcist abilities. It was in fact, the indisputable shock of the century when what seemed like the ghost of Cross Marian strolled into the Order – Heart in hand, miraculously intact. His only demand (a side from his later requested reward of full access to the Order’s winery) being no one, not even the Pope, ever inquire by what means he successfully delivered the Heart to the Order.

Max synchronization was automatically reached by all innocence accommodating exorcists. That was one of many things that happened upon the Heart’s mergence with the unaccommodated innocence residing in Helvasca. Knowledge flowed into her at an alarming rate; her screams sent haunting echoes through the Order’s hallways for days. Bestowed upon the Order through her was the one simple solution – Noah Exorcism. “Mercy of the Heart”, was a way in which each “Noah” including the Earl reverted back into their human origins and lost their fearsome abilities, whist keeping all their memories but also regaining their humanity. After all, the relic was amply named the Heart.  It was in every sense of the word a miracle for the Order.  

Kanda could not deny his heightened synchronization with Mugen when he was briefed but he didn’t swallow the other half of the news so easily. He wasn’t going to risk Allen’s safety. Still, once Neah heard, who by then completely took dominance over Allen’s body whenever he pleased, he wasted no time in making his way to destroying the Heart on his own. Five days of battle later Allen Walker was the first man to be exorcised from a Noah. The rest of the Noahs were no exception. A draw back with the Mercy of the Heart was once exorcised the Noah soul would not vanish, but find the Earl and reside within him. This was a double edged blade; the personality, memories and abilities of that Noah would all embed themselves with the Earl. By time the Order fought the Earl, though he was beyond Unworldly power, the man was driven insane containing each Noah in one vessel – all of which clashed for control. The battle with what the Earl had become lasted half a year. But in the fall of 1893 the war had been won.  A side from the already existing akuma in the world, that the Exorcists would easily turn to dust, never again would departed loved ones be summoned back from their peaceful rest to be enslaved for the Earl’s bidding.

….

It took Howard Link almost 3 and a half years of specialized Crow techniques to heal Mana’s tattered mind and the merged memories of Neah, being the only Noah memories other than his own that remained after the Last Exorcism. After all, he was just a human man born with Noah remnants in his make-up that took over. The Order did not want any unnecessary bloodshed, and the poor man was a danger to himself and others after all he’d been through. So much so, that nothing considered harmful to him was let onto the island. Meaning most cooking utensils, more importantly to Link, his baking utensils were out of the question. Finally though, Link could leave the God forsaken island they had been stranded on for this whole process. He’d be back on main land in 3 weeks. Komui, who constantly relayed the latest gossip to Link at the end of each of his reports, made an annoyingly absurd fuss that he attend Kanda’s Birthday Lenalee and the rest threw every year. According to him it was made into a tradition since they all agreed that man would most likely never go to anyone else’s party! (the first year he attempted not even attending his own, and failed thanks to Miranda’s Time Record) Link didn’t want to give Komui the satisfaction of telling the others he’d won him over, but he was actually looking forward to seeing them… or anyone’s face other than Mana’s to be frank. Again, thanks to Komui he already knew the just of each of their current goings-on, but maybe it was the sure presence of cake that sold him…

On June 6th Link arrived to a small house right on the corner of Pelican Bay. He raised an eyebrow. “That street name seems so unfitting for Kanda.”  

An all too familiar mop of bright red hair and ear to ear grin of a man answered the door promptly. “No WAY!? Guys, LINK is here!”

Slightly startled by the abrupt noises from inside getting closer and Lavi’s generous hug, Link flinched, making him drop the sword sharpening stone he had made from island rock for Kanda. It fell. On his foot. Which in-turn made him yelp, followed by a hint of an embarrassed blush.

“Hahahahaha! A few years of seclusion has made u a bit of a klutz hasn’t it?”

Link didn’t have to look up from inspecting the scuff on his new shoe to know who’s slightly obnoxious-too chipper of a voice that belonged to. He decided ignoring the comment all together would tick Allen Walker off far more than a smart come back. Setting his present very securely amongst the others on the table near the door, he walked in further to see Miranda making her way towards him.

"We're all so happy you could make it!" She helped him put away his coat.

 "Thank you, Miranda. It's good to see you all doing well. Where's Kanda?" Link asked.

"He's upstairs!" Lenalee said as she came off the ladder she used to fix a slightly crooked birthday banner. "He's not to come down till we finish up" she gave Link a generous hug "I don't think he minds that."

"I think I'll go up and greet him properly then, wouldn't want any rules broken on my account!"

Lenalee smiled. "He'll be in the room to your right most likely."

"Thanks."

Lavi had just made his way back to the greeting committee. "Krory will be in soon, Julia is finishing up the cake. He's over joyed you could make it, Link. Krory got married just almost a year ago!"

Link chuckled. "I had heard from Komui he did, lucky fellow got him a good cook too, good for him."

Allen piped in "Good? Her baking skill rivals your own. You'll like her."

Link glanced over, patting his old friend on the back "No doubt you do too then." They both shared a smirk admitting to their shared gluttonous habits. “I’ll be back in a sec,” Link started up the stairs, “Curios to see if that boy finally aged…”

Link gently knocked on the door to the room on his right.

“I’m in here, Link” responded a half muffled answer coming from the left room.

Link opened the door to a small study, catching a glance at a painting of a half crumbled, though elaborate church that was undoubtedly General Tidal’s work right above the desk Kanda was still turned to. “Sorry to intrude, Lenalee thought you’d be…”

“She thought I’d be sleeping, that’s what,” Kanda snapped while turning to him, “I swear she thinks all I do is meditate, mope, or sleep! I suppose that’s what got me into this mess” He gestured one hand to the papers on the desk and rubbed his face wirily with the other before getting up to give a brisk hug to his comrade.

 “What are those? Order reports?”

“God, no!” spat Kanda. “I haven’t set a foot there since the Last Exorcism.”

“Oh? But this house is so close by…” Link was puzzled.

Kanda let out a heavy sigh. “Though it’s the place I despise the most on this Earth, it’s the one and only thing I have left that’s real connecting me to ‘Him’.”

 Link was quite taken aback with Kanda’s openness.

“I’m sure you must’ve felt the same with your fellow Crows…”

“Oh…” Thought Link. “I see.” He said. Link didn’t want to linger on saddening subjects, after all, it was Kanda’s birthday, maybe he’d re-open the topic another visit. “So then what are the papers? You seemed quite immersed.”

Kanda let his head fall to one side and glanced back at Link. “Heh, I’m grading papers.” The begrudgment was audible in Kanda’s voice. It took Link half a second to recall Komui mentioning Kanda had taken on teaching at a dojo that was on the verge of closing, but the topic was cut short at the time thanks to one of Mana’s episodes. “If Lenalee wasn’t so damn persistent I most defiantly wouldn’t have ever thought of teaching little brats.” Unbeknownst to him, the idea was actually Allen’s; they knew Lenalee was the only one who could get Kanda to do it. “At the very least I don’t get any grief from the town’s folk for carrying Mugen.”

Somehow Link sensed an actual fondness in his tone at “little brats” that was quite unexpected. Link could hear the opening of the main door down stairs. Shortly after, a shout from Lavi,

“Link, Krory and Julia are here! Kanda, you stay up there!!”

At the base of the stairs Link greeted Krory and a beautiful, smiling red-head.

“I’ve heard so many interesting things about you, Inspector Link.” Julia had a firm hand-shake despite her slender hand.

“Oh, just Link is fine, Madame,” he reassured her, “and as have I, about you! I haven’t had a decent cake in years.”

Julia blushed.

“Butternut cake is her specialty.” Krory exclaimed, beaming with pride. “How have you been, Link?” Krory asked.

Allen yelled from inside the kitchen , “Julia, did you happen to bring your cake cutter again, no way Kanda has one."

Julia excused herself from the two before yelling back, “Walker, don’t you dare lick a morsel off that icing, so help me… I’m not covering it up like last year!”

Link replied to Krory, “Quite obviously not as good as you. How did you two meet?”

Krory took a seat in one of the near-by chairs and gestured for Link to do the same. “She’s a science division botanist from the American branch. She transferred 3 years ago to be closer to her uncle in London. She was quite impressed with my additions to our London branch garden and was the only one who knew how to care for them properly when I was sent out for missions. I guess things just set into place and we clicked. Never did I think I’d meet someone else in my life time, but I did, and all thanks to my grandfather’s pets, might I add.” Link noticed his bit of fidgeting when he talked about her, he clearly was in-love.

“Krory!” Miranda came in looking for him. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I just need you for a moment, Krory. Kanda is so tall, I can’t reach his cups in that cupboard, would you mind?”

Krory got up. “Oh, sure thing.”

Link followed towards the kitchen, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“YES,” exclaimed Lenalee while tying up the last few streamers “keep Allen and Timcanpy out of here away from the food! Gosh, the two of them still haven’t grasped that puppy-dog eyes and whimpers don’t faze us.”

“Geez Allen, have some tact.” Link cautioned, as he swiped a croissant from the edge of the counter.

Allen smirked, trying his own luck, reaching for one.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, I’ll let it slide for Link this time, but did you actually think you were gonna pull a fast one with a Bookman standing gurad? Get walkin, Walker.”

Back in the living-room Link retook his seat and Allen sat down too. “Any chance you’d share that?”

“Ahhh, no.” Link’s grin hadn’t been this genuine in what seemed like forever. “So tell me, last I heard, you were doing carpenter work. How’d that come about?”

“Well I had to do something other than just therapy after the exorcism since the Order refused to let me dive right back into work. The claw goes through wood like a short knife in butter; I’ve even gotten artsy with it actually. I don’t just get repair requests anymore; I’ve gotten orders for full sets of furniture a few times.” He pointed to the kitchen, “That table is one of mine. I practically had to break Kanda’s old joke of a table myself to get him to keep it though, stubborn mule.”

Link put his hand on Allen’s chair armrest, “Allen, we should have a session some time about the fragmented memories. I know so much now about them since working with Mana, I’m sure I could give you far better answers than anyone else from the Order.” he was serious.

“Thank you for that, I figure with you back, the Order would make that arrangement anyway sooner or later.”

“Most likely yes, but I wanted you to know I’d do it as your friend, not just to follow orders.”

Allen smiled, then he caught a glance of Lavi passing by in the kitchen helping Julia with the candles. “Actually, for the most part we’re all doing rather well, all things considered. All but Lavi. He’s the Order’s Bookman now, but doesn’t have his innocence since it needs to be kept with Helvaska for the rest of us to stay fully synced up. It still baffles me he had the Heart... I think he for some reason feels less apart of the team without his hammer. All he can do watch History and record it.”

Link nodded. “I can imagine him feeling excluded”

Allen nodded back. “The Order sends him out, he doesn’t tell us to where and doesn’t write until he’s almost back home. I don’t know, it’s just not like him. I’ve asked him, but he just claims to have been busy. It not that he’s not WANTING to communicate with us… he’s always bringing gifts back and tells us all sort of new things about the different places, but never about his mission. I’m worried the Order has him doing something shady.”

“I’ll defiantly see what I can do to find out more on him for you.” Link promised.

A giddy Krory emerged from the kitchen. “Ok, everything is ready, could you two go and tell Kanda he could come down now?”

Link and Kanda came down the stairs looking very unamused with an ecstatic Allen grasping the ends of both their pony tails behind them yelling “Faster Starlight, Faster Midnight! Giddy-up!”

Link was too busy thinking just how much teaching children must have soften Kanda since he would’ve already attempted slicing Allen in half in the old days… in fact Link considered threatening to doing so himself if he hadn’t been so baffled by Kanda’s change in behavior.

Only Lavi dared let out a chuckle at the joke and then Lenalee decided she had better make a move before the party turned into a murder scene. POP, went a rather large round of confetti over the three followed by a loud “Happy Birthday Kandaaa and Welcome Back Link!!” Krory ushered the two in front of a cake with those exact words written on it.

Link got lost for a moment, he didn’t know if it was just the contentment he’d felt or if it was the sight of that glorious cake, but whatever it was, he was really quite thankful to Komui for persuading him to come. He was brought back to reality hearing Kanda grumble to Lenalee that the messy confetti wasn’t necessary, followed by a Thank you. Link thought it was probably the first time he personally heard Kanda say it. Man, he was going to have to get adjusted to things fast.

Julia cut the cake as each of them got their drinks.

“Link, try this, it’s spiked with some of the real good stuff Tyki brought Kanda as an early birthday present before he left for his mission.” Miranda gave him a glass.

His eyes widened and he couldn’t hide the look of sheer confusion on his face.

Miranda giggled “Oh no! Don’t tell me you didn’t know?”

“Know what!?”

“Oh my, it seems you really don’t. After they underwent Mercy of the Heart, the former Noah members were recruited as Akuma Locators, basically being in charge of our Finders. It makes sense actually, even after regaining their humanity they still had their Noah memories, so of course they knew where a lot of the Akuma hide outs were. They really are quite helpful and very much part of the team now. In a way I’m sure it helps them find redemption.”

“Their spread out between the American, London and Asian Braches,” added Krory. “We have Tyki, Road and Wisely here.”

“Luckily for me!” Allen raised his glass “Tyki is almost as bad at cards as Cross, I’ve made so much money off that man. I just don’t get why he’s so dead set on beating me. I don’t even cheat with him anymore – the man has rotten luck!”

Link downed his glass and asked for another… he didn’t think he could take many more surprises sober.

“Lenalee and Road are quite the duo!” continued Allen. “In Greece they took down 53 high level akuma in 2 weeks. They’re kind of scary when they team up for pranking too, so watch out for that Link. Wisely seems to like working with Miranda. The boy hates pain so her Time Record is a plus. Oddly enough he relentlessly teases you, though Miranda. If you ask me, I think he likes her.”

“No! It’s not like that at all, Allen, I assure you… I think…” Miranda’s face was practically a strawberry.

“This cake is divine, Julia!” Link changed the subject saving Miranda from more incomprehensible babbling about Wisley.

“Here Kanda, open these first!” Lavi dragged over the present’s table closer to Kanda. He opened the box and carefully pulled out 3 silk garments and then another small box packed full of sandalwood incense.

“Oh, good thinking Lavi, incense! For God’s sake, put those in your laundry room Kanda.” Allen was smiling with an eyebrow raised waiting for a brutal response.

“I’m going to throw your present in the trash, Walker.” Kanda didn’t disappoint.

“Picked those up while I was in Taiwan just a few weeks ago,” Lavi pulled a stick from the incense, “just one should be potent enough for the whole house. And I hope those fit you Kanda.”

“I’m sure they do, thanks Lavi, they’re great.” 

Allen and Link shared a quick glance, if Lavi was all the way in Taiwan, no doubt he was summoned to the Asian Branch.

Kanda grabbed a small rectangular package. “Huh, from Link? What could be this heavy?” He tore open the wrappings. “Woah, I actually needed another one of these. Where did you find one so big?”

“There were plenty of suitable rocks of that kind on the island; I used the same stone for my blades. I made that one myself.” Link knew a swordsman would appreciate the size.

Kanda smirked and gave him a nod of appreciation, reaching for the next item - a pot holding some sort of herb shrub.

“Ah, that’s mine!” Krory made his way over. “These plants are the BEST pest repellent, I’m sure training outside with the kids in summer is quite hard with all of the mosquitoes. Dry out these buds on top once they flower and plant their seeds around the perimeter, you barely have to water and you have a bug barrier!”

“If only getting rid of Akuma were that easy…” shugged Kanda.

“Actually we’re working on something like that for the bug type akuma.”Julia chuckled.

The next present was a chrome bag from Lenalee. Kanda’s face was puzzled when he pulled out an Order’s golem.

“Komui helped me with modifying it. It’s a much older model, so no one would miss it from inventory. It’s no secret Kanda, at least not to us, that you’ve been slaying akuma whenever you get word. We actually appreciate your help. That golem has zero tracking and this way you can hear for yourself where the threats are and if you can engage without crossing paths with the Order’s Finders.”

“Tch. …I see. Well I appreciate it. I’ll make good use of this Lenalee”

Next up was the rather large box that no doubt was Allen’s. “Well thank you all for your gifts, you guys really shouldn’t have...”

Allen stood up, grabbed the box and dropped it in Kanda’s lap.

“Oomph! Shit Allen, what’s in there?”

Allen bent down right in his face with a menacing grin. “Open it and find out.”

Kanda tore through the cardboard to reveal a five piece stainless steel cooking set. “Shocker, it had to be food related.”

“You can’t just say “Thanks Allen, these are much better than the aluminum crap I’ve been using… you’re such a pal!” now could you?”  

Kanda set them aside. “The aluminum at least gets hot far quicker than these heavy beasts will.”

Miranda shot up from her seat “Oh, wait, you’re not done yet, Kanda. One moment.” She hurried into the kitchen, coming out carrying a box with holes in the top; she set it gently on Kanda’s lap and released her Time Record that was encasing it. “Now, easy does it…”

Kanda obviously didn’t like where this was heading as he lifted the lid to see inside. He looked up with the best forced smile he could muster but his eyes screamed “help me, I can’t be crude to polite-as-always Miranda of all people”. “You got me a kitten?!”

Miranda smiled back hesitantly. “He has all his shots; he’s fixed and already potty trained!”

Kanda pulled the little fellow out for the rest to see the tiny blue eyed and grey kitten. For a good while he was silent, deliberating on how he should phrase “I don’t want it.” without causing Miranda to have a panic attack.

The kitten turned right around, looked at Kanda and gently pressed his paw on Kanda’s cheek. His head ever so slightly jerked back, he wasn’t expecting that. This didn’t go unnoticed to his guests, all of which were at the brink of tearing into manic laughter.

The first to break was Allen. “The kitten bopped Kanda! Hahahah!” The kitten turned his way, pounced off Kanda’s hand and strolled over towards him. Timcanpy instinctively hid behind Allen’s shoulder. “Aww, hey little guy, I know, Kanda is grumpy. I’m much nicer.” He pet the kitten and it made its way up towards his chest. “Ohh, you may need your claws trimmed a bit, ouch…” with no warning at all the little animal lunged it’s self at the hovering yellow ball behind Allen, Allen jerked back so quickly he squished Tim to the chair and hit his head on the wall behind him. “Oh my God!!!” He shouted.

The kitten only mildly startled, strode back to Kanda and pawed at his loose hair strands. At this point everyone was giggling at the little entertainer. Kanda looked over to Miranda.

“So what do you think?” she asked.

Kanda looked back down at the little fur ball. “I think his name is Karma.”

Fin.