#but i Gotta Save Up before i take the plunge into some of the worst paid professions lmao

[queer-crusader]

Gnawing at the bars of my cage. Begging for the theatre peeps tonight to tell me there's always space for one more to join them. Hissing at my supervisor. Crawling from paycheck to paycheck. U know how it is

[iniziare]

Re-tag drop: Yelan

[comphy-and-cozy]

NHL!Michael Blurb // "Let's have a baby."

For the anon who requested #49 ("Let's have a baby"). I took the liberty of making this deliciously filthy and smutty.

NSFW/Smut under the cut. ~3.5K words. Breeding/pregnancy kink. Some daddy kink, too.

Unofficial part 2 here.

#49: “Let’s have a baby.”

You’re in the kitchen when he says it, unbuckling your heels from the team function you just came back from. Facing the counter, one hand supports you as you slip your feet out of the shoes.

“Let’s have a baby, or let’s make a baby?” you ask, brow quirked to yourself. “There’s a big difference.”

You feel the warmth of Michael’s body approach behind you, hands resting on your hips. He presses his lips against your shoulder in an affectionate gesture that you know has more meaning behind it. He hums, lips sliding toward your neck. “Both?”

You turn in his arms, stopping his movements as you look him in the eyes, trying to gauge how serious he is. “Michael —“

“If we start trying now, there’s a better chance that they can be born in the offseason,” he explains, voice logical.

You raise your eyebrows, surprised at his thought out rationale. “Oh, so you’ve thought about this.”

“I always think about knocking you up.”

You roll your eyes, and he grins. Michael’s arms wrap around you, holding you close, and he adds, “I’m serious, though. I want to start a family with you.”

“Babies are a lot of work,” you point out, not convinced that he really understands the magnitude of bringing life into the world; you assume he’s just trying a new tactic of getting you naked. “It’s different from Gus.”

“I know.”

“We have to feed it and bathe it and teach it life skills and lessons and —“

“Y/N, I know.”

You pause, biting your lip as your arms circle around his neck. You’d wanted to be a mom for as long as you could remember, that feeling only becoming more prominent as your relationship with Michael blossomed. Now, the ring on your left ring finger holds a different weight, symbolizing the security and stability you didn’t realize you had been waiting for.

His eyes watch you, as if he’s trying to hear the train of thoughts chugging through your mind; he gauges how long he should let you ponder.

“Angel,” he presses on after a moment. “I want to be a dad. I want to be a parent with you. I’m ready. If you still are.”

Your eyes slide back up to his, and you see the sincerity in his gaze. Suddenly shy, you shrink in his arms as the realization hits you that this is real.

“What if you think I’m ugly when I’m all bloated and pregnant?”

Michael’s large hands flex slightly on your hips and his gaze becomes more intense, but his smile is the opposite, full of love and adoration as he looks at you. “I could never think that, baby.”

You’re not convinced, but then his hips press into yours, letting you know exactly how much he likes the image, and suddenly the mood in the kitchen has drastically changed. His hands move to grip your hips tighter, and he leans in to kiss you; it’s sweet, but you can feel the heat behind it that he’s trying to contain, waiting for your ‘official’ approval.

You’re ready; you know you are, and it really isn’t much of a decision — the source of your hesitation is more that you sort of can’t believe you’re really going to do this. With just a simple nod, you let him know that the light is green. You feel his lips curl into a grin against yours before he’s kissing you with full force, letting the hunger inside of him take over.

Michael’s tongue meets yours, carving out a space in your mouth as his hands pull you against him. His mouth is quick to move to your jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses along your skin before he murmurs in your ear, “You’re going to look so fucking sexy carrying my baby.”

A shiver runs down your spine, going straight to your core at his words. Michael walks you backwards until your bottom hits the edge of the counter, and he effortlessly lifts you up until you’re sitting on it. He pulls his mouth away from yours to smirk at you for a moment, then spreads your legs and steps between them, pulling you close once again before seeking out the skin on your neck.

You hum with pleasure, each kiss earning more goosebumps along your skin as you feel the wetness between your legs growing.

“Michael,” you whine. “Please.”

“Needy already, are we?” he teases. “Have patience, angel. Gotta get you nice and ready for me, yeah?”

Michael follows through on his statement by tugging your hips forward, placing a hand behind your back to gently lay you down against the granite countertop. It’s cold against your skin, but you’re distracted quickly when he kisses your calf, trailing his lips up your leg as he bunches the skirt of your dress up your thighs. Your back arches when his mouth presses against your core through the fabric of your panties, his tongue licking the material barrier.

Soon, but not soon enough, his fingers curl into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. Your eyes watch him as he takes in the sight of your bare pussy in front of him, and you wish that you could see into his mind and hear all of his filthy thoughts.

“She’s so gorgeous,” he murmurs, settling between your legs and allowing them to drape over his shoulders. He’s speaking to you, but his eyes haven’t left your core. “Such a pretty pussy.”

You shiver under his praise, eyes fluttering shut when he presses a kiss to your lower lips, slowly and sensually dipping his tongue in your entrance. “Taste so fucking good, baby.”

Michael’s tongue explores your pussy as if it’s his first time, taking his time even though he knows each and every spot. He’s always been the kind of guy who genuinely enjoys eating pussy, treating it like an art rather than a chore. He kisses your clit before flicking it gently with the tip of his tongue, drawing delicate circles around it that have your head spinning in no time.

Large hands hold your hips in place as he all but makes love to your pussy, tongue delving inside you and through each fold. His nose nudges your clit, and you stifle a moan when his tongue flattens against you. One hand trails to meet his mouth, dipping a finger inside you to work in tandem with his lips wrapping around your clit.

Your mind is blank, empty save for relishing the heated euphoria Michael is providing you, working you with his practiced rhythm in the way that always leaves you breathless. He said he wanted to get you ready, but with the cadence he’s set, you know he wants to make you come, and hard. By the way the heat is flooding your belly, it seems like he’ll achieve his goal quicker than expected.

“That’s it, baby,” he mouths against you, his voice muffled by your thighs wrapped around his head. “Can feel you.”

Fingers curling upward, he all but grins at the cry you let out as he strikes your g-spot, probing it while his tongue continues it’s assault on your clit. The pressure inside you snaps, hitting you like a freight train, and your body goes rigid as your release rips through you. Michael doesn’t relent, his fingers and tongue working to drag out the waves of your orgasm that have now dulled to an intense ripple.

Once he’s satisfied with your weak whimpers, he slows his movements before gingerly removing his hand, inserting the same fingers into his mouth to suck off the remaining excess.

“Michael,” you moan, the sight nearly too much to handle in combination with your climax. “Need you.”

He chuckles softly, standing to lean over you. His mouth is coated in a layer of your slick, but you reach up to kiss him anyways, tasting yourself as he wastes no time in plunging his tongue in your mouth the same way he had done to your pussy just moments prior. In an instant, the action has your orgasmic haze clearing, making way for a fresh, and strong, wave of desire.

“I don’t think the kitchen counter is the right spot to make a baby, do you?” he asks, hands sliding under your ass to lift you into his arms. Wouldn’t be the worst spot, you think to yourself, but you tuck your arms around his neck anyways.

“Nah,” he says. “Want to do it properly, in bed.”

If your lips weren’t so busy seeking out his, you might be embarrassed that you said that out loud, but instead you’re focused on wrapping your legs around him as he begins to carry you through the house. Eventually he makes his way to the bedroom, gently dropping you on the mattress, crawling over you in an instant.

Michael’s hands slide up your sides, helping you to remove your dress, then your bra, and he pauses to take in the sight of you naked beneath him.

“Never gets old,” he comments, eyes staring at your breasts.

“Michael, you saw them this morning,” you laugh, and he shakes his head.

“Doesn’t matter. They’re still perfect.”

You respond by tugging at his shirt until he pulls it over his head, and as your eyes trail over the cut muscles of his body, you suddenly understand his sentiment — you will never grow tired of this view. You’re distracted, though, when he unzips his pants and kicks them down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs with a sizable tent in them.

Dragging your bottom lip between your teeth, you do your best to quell the moan that bubbles in your throat, anticipation thrumming through your veins. Michael knows, and he gives a cocky smirk. “You want it, don’t you, angel?”

You drag your eyes up to his, giving your best sultry ‘fuck me’ eyes as you nod, refusing to give into the temptation to yell, “Yes, please, please, please.”

Your feet slide up his legs and make their best attempt at pushing his boxer briefs down his legs, half succeeding before he’s smirking again, leaning back to help you remove them completely. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, finally naked and bare for you, just as you are for him.

He’s in a teasing mood, you can tell, and instead of letting him, you take matters into your own hands by reaching out to fist his length. He’s hard in your hand, skin soft as velvet, as you pump your hand while maintaining solid eye contact with him.

Michael isn’t pleased with your act of defiance, but your hand feels too damn good to ignore, and a groan of pleasure sounds from his chest as you give him a squeeze. His eyes watch you, glittering, while you shift onto your knees on the bed to take him into your mouth.

He groans out at the feeling, hand moving to tangle loosely in your hair as you work your lips around him. He’s heavy, and big, and you have always enjoyed the challenge of fitting as much of him into your throat as you can. Steeling yourself, you relax enough to take him deeper, tongue flattening against the underside of his dick.

“Jesus Christ,” he grunts out. “Such a perfect, pretty mouth you have, baby.”

You bob your head, finding a rhythm, tongue working sinfully in tandem with your lips and the suction of your mouth. Even after all these years, he is still in awe that he married the world’s best dick sucker, and that he’s going to get blowjobs like this for the rest of his life.

Slowly, your rhythm melds into his as he begins to gently move his hips, thrusting into your mouth cautiously. Once he’s sure you’re ready by the telltale sign of your fingers flexing on his thighs, he takes over the movement, fucking your mouth as he hits the back of your throat each time.

“Mmm,” he hums, fingers gripping your hair a bit tighter. “So good for me.”

Each thrust and groan from his mouth draws more arousal to your own core, thoroughly enjoying how much pleasure you are providing to him. With one hand bracing yourself on the bed, holding yourself steady, you move your other hand between your legs, rubbing circles over your clit. Michael, of course, takes note of this quickly, chuckling darkly. He knows how much you enjoy this, and it turns him on wildly to know that getting him off also gets you off.

Pulling away from your mouth, Michael bites his lip at the sight of his dick emerging from your lips, swollen and covered in saliva, as a string connects your mouth to his tip even as he pulls away.

“As much as I love to fuck your pretty little throat, I’m afraid I won’t be cumming there anymore. Have to save all of this cum for your pretty little pussy, yeah?”

You let out an unabashed moan at his words, feeling yourself clench down onto nothing at the thought. Michael presses forward, leaning down to kiss you as he gently pushes you backward, tangling your legs around his hips while he crawls on top of you.

He settles between your legs, his hard cock resting so close to where you need him most, but instead of giving you what you want, he cages your head between his muscular arms, gazing down at you.

“You like that, angel?” his voice is low as he weaves his hand down your body, toying teasingly at your entrance; he smirks upon feeling just how drenched you are for him, welcoming his fingers greedily. “Oh, yeah, you fucking love it, huh? You can’t wait for me to fuck a baby into you, can you?”

If his grade-A pussy eating skills don’t have you soaked, his words certainly do, and you feel your muscles clench weakly around nothing, aching for him to be inside you.

Michael kisses you deeply, and you can’t help the whimper that he swallows down as he grinds himself against you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers clutching onto him as you try to focus on anything but the throbbing between your legs. You’re desperate for him, needing to feel some sort of friction and the delicious stretch of him inside of you.

“Michael, please,” you whimper, “Please.”

“Please, what, angel?” he asks, teasing you as he leans back to rub the head of his cock along your dripping slit.

“Please, fuck me,” you moan, and Michael hums in approval.

“That’s my girl,” he praises you, enjoying the effect he clearly has on you.

He adjusts, bracing his arms on your sides before he slides into you slowly, eyes glued to your face as your mouth opens in a silent moan. The sex was always good with him, but there was nothing quite like the first stretch around his thick length as your bodies connect into one.

Your nerves tingle as he works himself into you, leaning forward to touch his forehead to yours in a sweet gesture that you’d normally appreciate more if you weren’t desperately in need of more. His hot breath fans over your face, but you’re too busy focusing on the way he feels moving in and out of you, igniting the fire in your core with each thrust of his hips. Breath is caught in your throat, hips rising to meet each push, and Michael kisses you as if to suck the air out of your lungs for you.

For a brief while, all that can be heard in the privacy of your bedroom are your heavy breaths and the gentle sound of Michael’s hips hitting yours. He feels so fucking good, and you are perfectly fine to enjoy the sensation rather than rushing to reach your peak. Somehow, it feels different — and even better — knowing that this act is more than just passionate lovers, but making love — and making life.

Your hands graze over the skin of his shoulders, accepting the heat of his flesh into your fingertips, and, likewise, transferring the thrum of your chest until your hearts beat in tandem as one.

Michael, though, has a different idea in mind, and soon, the pace of his hips speeds up as he begins to thrust into you harder. His lips find your jaw, sucking into the spot just below your ear, muffling the sound of his groans as he feels you clench tightly around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he murmurs. “Can’t wait to fill this pretty little cunt up with my cum.”

All you can do is whimper in response, the arousal you feel at his words and his matching actions almost overwhelming. Your fingers tremble along his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh as you hold on for dear life.

“Yeah? You like that, baby? You want to make me a daddy?”

“Fuck,” you cry out, both from the way he presses the head of his cock right against your g-spot, as well as his erotic words. “Yes, Michael, yes, please.”

“Yeah? You gonna take all of my cum, aren’t you? Not gonna waste a single drop, huh?”

You shake your head, not trusting your voice to come out, and he rewards you by moving his hand to circle at your clit. He knows you’re close, hanging on by just a thread, your cunt clenching desperately around him.

“That’s it, angel,” he praises, eyes glassy as he watches the bounce of your tits. “Take it so good, don’t you? Fuck, it’s like you were made to take my dick, baby.”

Between his hot praise, forceful thrusts, and calculated rub of your clit, you’re spiraling over the edge before you even have a chance to cry out, the euphoria washing over you in overwhelming waves. Your head falls back and legs tremble with the strength of your orgasm, clenching tightly around him as he groans at the feeling.

“Good girl,” he purrs, removing his hand from your clit to take its place back on your hip, gripping it tightly as he seeks out his own release.

He pumps into you, losing himself to his own rhythm as his eyes close. A deep groan rumbles in his chest, almost animalistic, and it has you clenching tightly around him.

“Fuck,” he exclaims. “Gonna come, angel. Gonna fill you up with a fucking baby.”

“Give it to me, daddy,” you moan, encouraging him. “Come inside me.”

The sight of him coming is always something — head thrown back, eyes closed, muscles flexed — but it’s even more beautiful knowing the intimacy of the act. It’s more than a release, it’s the start of a family with the man you’re hopelessly and deeply in love with, souls connected in more ways than one.

You feel the hot spurts shooting into you, and it’s almost enough to send you into another orgasm, your cunt greedily taking every drop from his cock. His hips stutter against yours, hands loosening their grip as he comes down from his high.

Michael looks down at you, panting, and smirks at you before pulling out halfway, only to push back in and make you clench weakly around him.

“Gotta keep it all in this pretty little cunt, don’t we? Don’t wanna waste a single drop,” he says.

He takes his time, lightly fucking you, gently sliding in and out of you. Between your two orgasms and the feeling of his warmth deep inside your womb, your core is on fire in the best way, and your fumbling hand reaches quickly for your clit. One, two, three circles later, you’re crying out in your final orgasm of the night, legs trembling weakly as your insides contract tightly.

Michael watches in awe, cursing under his breath as he lets you work through it, keeping his gentle rhythm steady. He eyes the swollen, wet lips of your pussy with a deep appreciation. “Look so fucking pretty taking my cum. All filled up with our baby, yeah?”

He presses kisses to your hairline as you come down slowly, as if to tell you to take your time. When he finally pulls out, you whimper slightly at the loss, feeling the emptiness, but you know you’re not really empty.

With his release, the darkness in Michael’s eyes has disappeared, and now he’s looking at you softly, eyes full of love and adoration. His lips curl into a smile, leaning down to kiss you gently as one hand trails over your belly. No words are needed; you know what he’s thinking, as you imagine the little seed growing inside of you.

He shifts so that he’s laying next to you, pulling you into his arms, and he presses a kiss against your forehead.

“Have to say,” he murmurs after a moment. “I think I like being daddy already.”

“A daddy, or just daddy?”

Michael hums, hand trailing over your stomach again, as if there’s already something there, invisible to everyone but him.

“Both.”

[angryschnauzer]

Full Mast - Part 2

Summary: Your idyllic life as a trophy wife of a rich lord is suddenly disturbed with the arrival of a pirate ship and a kidnapping that goes wrong... leaving you in the care of a band of pirates that seem to treat you better than your husband ever did.

Part 1, 

Fandoms: Henry Cavill, Sand Castle - Movie, Mission Impossible: Fallout, Night Hunter, Hellraiser Hellworld

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader, August Walker x Reader, Walter Marshall x Reader, Mikey (Hellraiser) x Reader.

A/N: This is a CRACK FIC. After a brief discussion with @nuggsmum about the cheap romance novels that you could find in the 80′s and 90′s, i called upon the awful storylines, plot holes, and general cheesyness of those books that walked so fanfiction could run. Read the warnings please.

Storyboard note: The only artwork i could find that was suitable to show a Henry-like character included the woman seen above. I tried to crop as much of her out as possible, the story itself does not describe the female reader at all.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex (F Recieving), Blowjobs, Multiple Blowjobs, Multiple Partners, Implied Age Gap (but never confirmed). Pretty Poly Pirates.

Only the finest organic free range typos for me, allowed to run wild and free.

Full Mast part 2

Standing in the grand cabin you took in your surroundings; the large table that was half covered in maps, the scattered chests and crates, the large four poster bed with messy linens. You wondered if the Captain had many other women between those sheets, or whether he kept his liaisons to his time on shore. At the mere thought of the man that had just taken your innocence you felt your stomach clench and another wave of arousal coat your already soaked petals. 

A quiet knock at the door drew your attention, smiling when you saw Mikey come in pulling a large chest and setting it down in the middle of the room;

“So err… Captain says there should be some stuff in here that will be ok for you, so umm… help yourself Miss…”

“Thank you Mikey”

The young man must be at least 20 yet a blush covered his cheeks as you spoke to him, and with a nervous smile he nodded his head and left the room, half tripping on the rug as he did so before slamming the door shut.

Stripping out of your ruined clothing you saw a pitcher of water and a bowl on the side, using it to wash the Captain's seed from your thighs. Crossing the room in just your silk stockings you opened the chest and pulled out a number of items, gauging what would fit. Looking around you set the items onto the large bed, pulling the covers straight as you made your choice and a thought came to mind.

-

Sy stood outside his cabin, his hand hovering over the door handle. What had he gotten himself into? When he’d heard that his old friend Walter was having issues on the island, he’d set sail immediately and between the two of them and his right hand man Walter, they’d come up with a fool proof plan; kidnap the lord’s young trophy wife, demand not even a ransom - just what they were due, return her unharmed. Instead he ended up with another officer onboard, a woman on his ship that was said to bring bad luck, and the puzzle of what the hell to do with her now it had been made abundantly clear that her husband didn’t want her back. Taking a deep breath he entered the room, expecting the worst…

“Darlin?... Don’t be mad…”

He looked around the room, surprised that at first he wasn’t pelted with whatever wasn’t tied down, but when he couldn’t see you at all he frowned.

“Captain, over here…”

His jaw dropped when he saw you, kneeling on his bed, bare save for your stockings and a smile. Crossing the room he came to stand at the foot of the bed, licking his lips as his gaze traversed your naked body;

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes…I don’t know what i was expecting, but it wasn’t this…”

With a single finger he beconned you towards him, watching as you moved until you were up on your knees, his large hand at the back of your neck and you were kissing again, his glorious tongue exploring your mouth as your hands clung to his shirt. Deliberately falling back on the bed you pulled him with you, his mouth making its way to your breasts where he lavished each one with full mouthed kisses, his tongue laving over the hardened peaks before pressing a trail of kisses down your stomach before settled at the apex of your thighs;

“Gotta be the prettiest little Puss i’ve seen in a long time, bet you’re as sweet as a peach too…”

His tongue swiped a wide path through your folds, your fingers clawing at the sheets as his beard tickled you and he did to you things you’d only read about in the secretive books that were hidden in the depths of your husbands library.

“Oh Captain!” you gasped as his tongue dived into your soaked entrance, his nose rubbing at your sensitive clit and you could feel your stomach tightening with anticipation of the inevitable. Seemingly in no need of air he continued to work the thick muscle inside of you, driving you closer and closer to the pinnacle of pleasure until the point of no return was met and you came with a cry, your legs clamping around his head. 

Finally he pulled himself free of your grasp, climbing up the bed until he was nestled between your thighs, his hardness pressing against your soaked core. Holding himself up on his strong arms he looked down at you beneath him;

“This time i’m gonna take my time and savour it…”

Your hands found their way to his breeches, unbuttoning him and gasping as his hot flesh sprung into your palm, heavy and weeping with need you guided him to your entrance. As he plunged into your depths the world seemed to fade around you; you’d had a taste of heaven and now you wanted more;

“You’re so big…”

“You want me to slow down Darlin?”

“No! It feels… so good…”

With practiced skill he rocked into you, slow but rough thrusts that had his length hitting a spot deep inside you’d had no idea that existed. The man had probably fucked his way around half of the Carribean but for a barely touched blossom as yourself he cherished the way your petals opened around him. 

He continued to fuck you closer and closer to orgasm, feeling your body tighten around him and tremble, he slid a hand between your bodies and rubbed at your sensitive pearl, a grin spreading across his face as you came again with a shout of his rank;

“That’s a good girl, so fucking good… almost there…”

He quickly pulled out and spilled his seed over your stomach, watching as rope after rope of his creamy seed patterned your body, before he fell to your side, his chest heaving. Covering his eyes he let out a shaky breath;

“What the fuck have i gotten myself into…” He peeped out from between his fingers, smiling at you before pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, finally resting his forehead against yours; “Wait there a moment Darlin, i’ll get you cleaned up”

-

You’d dressed in front of your Captain, watching how he admired your choices from where he sat at the long table;

“Wasn’t expecting you to go for breeches…” he commented as you fastened the half length velvet garment, your stockings beneath the knee length trousers. A loose shirt with a wide leather belt fastening it at your waist was the only other garment you put on, standing in front of him and doing a little twirl; “Very nice… and practical”

“I spent ten years of my childhood aboard spice ships, running up ladders and rigging in skirts was a recipe for disaster.”

You crossed the room and sat across his lap;

“So, how is this going to work? You gonna drop me at the next port, leave me to my own devices? Wait until we’re in shark infested waters and throw me overboard?”

“What? Now why would i do that to a pretty little thing like you?”

“Well I know you didn’t end up with the outcome you were hoping for, and now you’re stuck with a ransomee that isn’t due any ransom”

He let out a sigh;

“I wouldn’t do that… it ain’t your fault your husband had the balls of a eunuch. No, i’m sure we can find a use for you, even if it’s just warming my bed… did you have an education?”

“Of sorts. Whenever we docked in Grace Bay i’d see a governess. I can speak spanish, french, and italian” you nodded to the maps spread over the table; “... and i can chart courses and know the currents of the Indies better than anyone that ever sailed on the spice route” 

You gently stroked his beard;

“So Captain, what do you want me to do?”

“All of the above and more…” he stroked your cheek; “I won’t always be able to please you in bed, and from the signs of it you’ve got quite a carnal appetite...So, firstly you can call me Sy when its just us or the officers. When we’re on deck it’s Captain like everyone else. Secondly, if you want it, my officers could do with a bedmate, if you don’t mind sharing?”

Your eyebrows shot up so far you were surprised they didn’t meet your hair;

“Share me with your officers? Who…”

“There’s the Constable - who you’ll know from town - Walter Marshall, and the Armoury Officer - August Walker, and you’ve met Michael, he’s first mate”

“O-Okay”

“You’re alright with that?”

Stroking his beard you leant forwards and kissed him;

“Yes, yes I am. I’ve always wanted a little more adventure in my life, and now here it is”

“Well, you can be the one to decide when you want to go to the others, i’ll leave that move to you… i wont say anything yet”

“Thank you Sy, let's tell them Friday night. You can tell them.”

“Anything for my little Rose” he pressed his face to your neck and inhaled; “Still smell as sweet as that rose garden…”

“You can call me Rose if you like?”

“A new name for a new start?”

“Something like that” you grinned at him.

-

You’d spent four nights in the arms of Sy, some nights just falling asleep in each others arms, other’s you would fuck until dawn. That particular morning you’d taken him in your mouth and he’d taught you how to suck a man, working your tongue and lips over his hot flesh until he’d flooded your mouth with his thick salty seed. He’d held your jaw as he finished;

“Now be a good girl and swallow it”

You gulped down the mouthful before smiling;

“Tasty”

With a laugh he kissed you, before giving your naked ass a cheeky spank as he rolled out of bed;

“You gonna join me on deck?”

You stretched and sighed;

“I’m gonna try and find that earring i dropped when you had me bent over the table last night…”

-

Sy entered his cabin just as the ship’s cook was leaving, nodding to the meal he’d set out;

“Creole Stew tonight Cap’n, bread and ale like always”

“Thanks. Have you seen Rose?”

“No Sir”

Nodding Sy entered his cabin with a weary sigh, it had been a long day and all he really wanted to do was crawl into bed to sleep, grateful it was Friday which meant August took early watch on deck the next day, but he had dinner with the other officers and he hadn’t seen you for the last few hours, last he knew you were still on the hunt for your lost earring. Leaving the door ajar he sat at the table and started to eat, moments later Walter and August joining him.

“Where’s the others?” Walter asked as he sat, helping himself to a large chunk of bread

“Mikey is in the crows nest, he’ll be down shortly” August confirmed; “Haven’t seen Rose for a while though”

“Rose?”

“Sy’s bit of fluff. Decided as its a new start onboard she may as well choose a new name. Apparently its because Sy say’s she smells of Roses”

Walter snorted out a low laugh;

“She’s gonna be smelling of Sy sooner or later”

Sy listened to his two oldest friends banter back and forth, unaware of the surprise he was about to get. Hearing quick footfalls coming along the corridor he looked up to see Mikey at the doorway just as two soft hands pressed to his thighs from beneath the table. He nodded to Mikey to take a seat, before leaning back and peering down to his lap, hiding his surprise when he saw you on your knees beneath the table, hidden from the view of the rest of the party by the many overhanging maps and the low candle light.

Grabbing a chunk of bread he stayed leaning back but parted his thighs wide, wide enough to allow you to unfasten him and pump his hardening length and slip him into your mouth.

“Dig in boys, its gonna be a spicy meal tonight!”

As you worked quickly with your new found skills, sucking on the bulbous head as you fondled his heavy ballsack with your free hand, working quickly and silently as the men above you talked amongst themselves. You could feel Sy’s leg start to tremble, his hand sliding beneath the table to hold your head in place, and as you relaxed your jaw you felt his hot seed flood your mouth.

“WOO!” he exclaimed above you; “This stew is HOT!”

He took a deep breath and slapped his hand on the table with a laugh, before you tucked him carefully back into his breeches and you continued with your plan.

“Sy, we need to consider restocking the armoury” August started; “Scuttling the boats used up a lot of ammunitionnnnnnnnn”

Sy looked up and smirked, August looking at him wide eyed but recovering quickly, clearing his throat;

“Anyway as i was saying… umm... wow, the stew… the spice really hits after a while doesn’t it…”

August scrunched his face and rested his hand on his fist, before grabbing his tankard of ale and taking a large gulp, some of it spilling from the sides of his mouth as he spluttered on the liquid that did only a little to hide the groan. Sy shovelled another mouthful of stew into his mouth to hide his grin as August sat back in his chair, a half glare on his face. 

Walter frowned at both of the older men;

“I have no idea what you two are on about, this stew is fine”

August wiped the slight sheen of sweat from his brow, before finally sitting straight and digging back into his meal;

“Walt, just wait, it takes a while to hit you but when it does… ooooh boy it takes your breath away”

The big bear of a man frowned and shovelled another mouthful in, before his eyes went wide. Swallowing awkwardly he nodded, shifting in his seat;

“Oh… oh yeah… its hitting… wow, its a good burn, ya know…” taking a leaf out of August’s book he grabbed his tankard, taking a gulp as he fidgeted in his seat, both Sy and August doing poor jobs of hiding their smirks, whereas Mikey was sat at the far end of the table without the slightest clue as to what was going on;

“Seriously? You guys must be getting old, this stew ain’t spicy”

Sy raised his tankard to his son and grinned;

“Just wait, it’ll hit ya… anyway, i got an announcement to make”

The three other men looked at Sy, Walter’s gaze faltering now and again as his focal point seemed to change, but he shifted in his seat and leaned his elbow against the armrest of his chair, his hand sliding beneath the table as he muttered about ‘cramp’, when in fact his large hand was holding your head in place as he pushed deeper into your throat. Sy cleared his throat and continued;

“We all know the events at the island did not go to plan. We’re down on funds and supplies, and we’ve increased the crew numbers with those that helped with the land mutiny… we’ve also of course got Rose to consider, she never asked for any of this, but we have come up with a solution of sorts”

“I think i might know what that solution could be” Walter panted out, his face contorting into something that resembled a grimace as he muttered about spiciness and cramps again before with a sigh a smile spread across his face; “Ooooh that’s it… the cramps are going…”

“Anyway” Sy interjected with a wry smile; “Rose can speak numerous languages, can read and chart maps, she’s probably the best educated of everyone on the ship”

Just then Mikey squeaked and jumped in his chair, a thud sounding beneath the table;

“S-s-sorry... my knee hit the table”

Sy nodded with a smile;

“No problem Son, carry on. So Rose will also be here for other duties, but only for the officers at this table tonight” he paused; “And i think you all now know what those duties will be”

August nodded as he eagerly mopped up the last remaining morsels of his stew with a chunk of bread;

“That sounds a fucking brilliant idea Sy. She has the greatest tits...” at that moment Mikey let out a groan and his head thudded against the high back of his chair; “... and i think we all now know she’s got a fucking brilliant mouth on her”

There was little point in denying what had just happened, the very fact it was still going on and Mikey had so little control of his reactions as you were sucking his meaty dick, having just done the same to the other three men in the room from the darkness under the table. In fact the three older men started to chat away candidly as you lavished Mikey’s beautiful cock with your tongue, before taking him in hand to move your mouth down to his tight ballsack to suck on the warm globes. His athletic thighs had parted enough for you to get much closer than you had done with the other three men - all of whom had thighs that could crush a coconut - and it meant that the top of your head could now be seen in his lap by the other men.

“Grab her hair Mikey” August shouted from behind his refilled tankard; “Get deep down in her throat, its fucking amazing, feels like she’ll suck your soul out of your dick”

You felt Mikey's hands curl into your hair, holding your head in place as he started to rock his hips up, filling your mouth and throat. Gripping hard to his thighs you could feel him start to tremble, preparing yourself for the flood of seed and as he came with a cry, looking down at you as you stared back with wide innocent eyes that completely ruined him. 

Finally he released his grip on you, and as you looked down you smiled at what came into view. Seconds later you were climbing out from beneath the table, turning to smile at the rest of the men as you fastened the earring to your lobe;

“Look Sy, i found my earring!”

Walking around the table you took the tankard of ale that August held out for you with a smile, before sitting across Sy’s lap;

“I think they like the idea”

Sy looked at the men around the table, his trusted friends and family and smiled;

“I think they do, my sweet Rose”

He clinked his tankard to yours and you both drank, the joyous laughter filling the room as the night continued.

__________________________________________________________

I do not run a tag list. Instead please visit @angryschnauzerwrites​ and follow that blog and put it onto notifications. You will then get an alert when i post new stories.

Masterlist can be found on AO3, link here.

[paversandplatters]

|| 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (1/20)

Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)

Read x multiple

Chapter 1: Shortcut

“Would you please shut up for just one minute!?” She calls out behind the steering wheel, voice horse, and struggling to keep the battered SUV On the road, keeping speed and avoiding the now long forgotten vehicles left on the two lane road. Every part of her feels like it's on fire. Blood from the oozing wound on her scalp finds its way right into her eye, clouding her vision further.

“Told you we've just gotta put some distance between us and Calhoun, then we can pull over for medical attention ASAP. ” Her eyes quickly flit between the road and the rearview mirror trying to get a glimpse at George in the darkness of the back seat. The young man is leaning his head against the broken rear window as the Escalade rumbles past a cluster of figures milling about the edge of the road. A single glance tells her they're hunched over something- or rather what's left of someone. She pushes the thought from her mind and tries to assess George again. He catches her eyes in the mirror only to look away- blinking tears away and wheezing miserably, his free hand gripping the bloody remains of what was his shirt over his middle. No doubt covering the gaping wound there.

The broken window rattles, as a slip stream of wind tussles his now blood matted hair. Nick is sat next to him looking equally disheveled but still in one piece- save some scrapes and bruises.

“I-I can't breathe- I can't-” he stutters out cutoff by Nick’s sudden yelp as a wave of rotten gore sprays across the windshield. It's undeniable that the sight and smell is enough to stick with you for days but anyone that has struck a zombie with a car knows the worst part is the noise. Rather that is- the gore and rot engulfs all senses, sure, but it’s the sound that lives on in memory. It's a series of greasy crunching sounds that bring to mind the thunk of an axe through cords of rotting termite infested wood. A horrible symphony of sounds as the dead are grounded into paste beneath the moving chassis and thick wheels. A quick series of dull pops and cracks as liquefying organs and bladders are squished. Bones are turned to kindling and skulls crushed open and flattening, mercifully bringing an end to a treacherous pilgrimage. This hellish noise is the first thing that registers with her and the two men in the back seat of the battered Escalade.

Both let out another yelp of shock and revulsion, holding on to the seats with a vice like grip as the SUV bucks and fishtails across the now wet and slippery tarmac. Most of the cadavers go down like domino pieces, pulverized by 3 tons of careening Detroit metal. Some of the excess flesh and appendages stumble across the hood leaving a ghastly trail of rancid fluids on the windshield, other body parts go pinwheeling in the air arcing across the night Sky. It might have been humorous if their own situation wasn’t so dire…

She remains silent, hunched forward- her jaw set and eyes fixed on the road, her arms still wrestling with the jittering steering wheel as the massive vehicle goes into a skid. The engine revs and keens as it reacts to the loss of traction. The squeal of the huge steel belted radials adding to the din, hands yanking the wheel back the other way turning into the skid as best she can in order to avoid spinning out of control when she notices something that has gotten lodged in the gaping hole in her side window.

The disembodied head of a zombie only inches away from her left ear. It’s teeth chattering softly, somehow it got caught in the jagged maw of broken glass, gnashing its blackened incisors at her fixing it's ghostly milky gaze on her. The sight of it is so grisly and awful and yet so surreal- the creaking of the jaws snapping at her with the hollow autonomic force of a ventriloquist dummy. She lets out an involuntary chortle, one akin to a laugh but darker… she jerks her head away from the window. Registering over the space of a single instance the fact that the re-animated cranium was torn from its upper body upon impact with the SUV and now still continues to go on without it’s body, seeking living flesh… forever seeking, forever masticating swallowing and consuming, an impulse never satiated.

“Lookout!”

The scream comes from the flickering darkness of the rear seats. In all the excitement she can't identify the source. Wether it's Nick or George- the issue is moot because she mistakes the meaning of the cry and the split second during which her hand flies to the passenger seat and fishes through the contents of it rifling through Maps, candy wrappers, rope and tools- frantically searching for the 9 millimeter Glock- she assumes that the warning cry it is meant to lookout for the snapping jaws of the amputated head. She finally gets her hands on the grip of the Glock and wastes no time swinging it up with one fluid motion towards the window and squeezing off a single point blank shot into the grotesque face skewered there. The head comes apart with the blossom of pink mist, splitting like a melon and sending splatter of viscera into her hair before being launched into the wind, the vacuum left behind in the broken window throbs noisily adding to the din.

Less than 10 seconds have transpired since the initial impact but now she sees that reason that one of the men in the back gave such a warning- it's nothing to do with the reanimated head- what they were screaming about back there- thing that she was supposed to lookout for… is now looming on the opposite side of the highway coming up quick on their right closing. She feels the gravity shift as she swerves in order to avoid the mangled wreckage of a VW bug sliding across the gravel shoulder then plunges down into a steep embankment on the dark unknown wooden grove.

Pine barrows and foliage scrape and slap the windshield as the vehicle bangs and clambers on the rocky slope. The voices in the back rise into a frenzied screams

She feels the land level out and manages to keep the vehicle going long enough to find purchase in the mud- then slams down the accelerator and the Escalade lurches forward under its own power. The massive grill and gigantic tires grinding through the thickets cobbling over deadfalls, mowing down the wild undergrowth and tearing through the scrub as though it were smoke. for the seemingly endless minutes the bumpy ride threatens to encompass her spine and rupture her spleen. In the blurry image of the rear view she gets a brief glimpse of the two injured young men holding on to the back seats for fear of bouncing right out of the vehicle. The front end hits a log hard and the impact nearly cracks her teeth.

For a minute or so they swerve through a thin patch of trees. When they burst out of the brush, an explosion of dirt, leaves and particles- she sees that they've inadvertently come upon another unidentified two lane road. She slams the brakes causing the men to headbutt the seats with an audible ‘thwap.

She sits there for a second taking deep breaths, getting air back in her lungs. She looks around. The men in the back collectively groan and whine, now suddenly back into their seats, holding themselves. The engine idles noisily, a new rattling sound is introduced to the low rumble- probably bearing a knocked loose in the improvised off-road adventure.

“Okay-“ she starts softly “that's one hell of a shortcut”

The only response for the backseat is silence- the humor lost on the two young men. Above them a black opaque sky is just beginning to lighten with the purple of a pre-dawn glow in the dull light. They can just see enough detail to now realize that they've landed across an access road and the woods have given way to wetlands. To the East she can see the a canal winding through a fog, probably leading to the edge of a swamp and to the West a rust pocket sign says state road ‘505- 3 miles’ no sign of roamers in either direction.

[bravobeavo]

Bonnie & Clyde AU Drabble!

@megglepie - I promised you a first kiss, didn’t I? Let’s set the scene - Hizashi & Shouta have gotten separated from Oboro & Nemuri, who had gotten away in their original vehicle after a relatively successful heist.

Hizashi stole the first car they could get their hands on - only to find when he hot-wires it that one of the headlights is out! No worries, the other headlight still works so they hightail it out of the town they’d traveled to and begin driving on the dark, empty highways through the desert back toward Shouta’s hometown/their rendezvous point.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Hizashi cursed loudly as the remaining headlight sputtered and then went dark with an audible ‘crack!’ of electricity.

As they were plunged into darkness, Hizashi kept the wheel steady and slowed down to a stop in the middle of the desolate road, muttering under his breath.

Shouta shifted in the passenger seat and glanced over, “The other headlight?”

“Yep,” Hizashi’s face was barely visible in the sudden darkness, but the lines across his forehead had drawn tight with frustration. He huffed loudly before wrenching the driver’s side door open and climbing out into the open road.

Shouta blinked as he watched the tall blonde stomp up to the front of the car, hands braced on his hips in a telltale sign of annoyance.

He disappeared from sight when he knelt down in front of the car’s darkened headlights and Shouta shifted to brace his feet against the dash, letting his head loll back onto the top of the seat.

He sighed and tapped one foot against the dashboard idly.

He could get out to offer help, but unlike Nemuri and Oboro he knew next to nothing about cars so it was probably better to just let Hizashi look over the problem without getting in the way.

A shimmer in the lapsing moonlight caught his eye and he turned his head slightly to peer over into the back seat, shifting completely to get a better look.

On the floorboard of the backseat, next to the bag of stolen goods and the jacket that Nemuri had dropped, was a single golden earring; one of the heavy diamond ones that Oboro had stolen from a pawn shop a mere month ago.

He’d initially stolen them for Hizashi, but Hizashi had sheepishly grinned and cited the fact that he preferred to only wear silver jewelry. Shouta and Oboro had both scoffed loudly while Hizashi insisted that gold looked tacky with his blonde hair - which had even gotten a laugh from Hitoshi, who usually tended to ignore their antics.

Shouta thought Oboro would have worn them himself if Nemuri hadn’t snatched them up and tried them on, falling in love with the pair.

They were exact type of fancy earrings that she saw on high-class ladies - the ones who turned their noses up at her when she walked by the high-end salons in downtown.

The ones that Nemuri hated, envied... wearing them made her powerful. He could respect that out of his sister.

It must have been in the pocket of the jacket that he had grabbed, after all it had been her jacket that she’d dropped in the chaos of trying to get away. He reached down and slipped the earring pocket, knowing that she’d be wanting it back.

He twirled it between his thumb and index finger in his jacket pocket, still tapping his foot. His feet that were clad in shoes without holes in them for the first in as long as he could remember.

So much had changed over the past few months... all thanks to two men careening into their lives by pure coincidence.

Hitoshi had even done well on his last pop quiz because he’d been able to make flash cards out of some of the paper that Shouta had stolen for him.

He smiled as his heart ached.

Then his gaze drifted, to the object of his thoughts.

Hizashi was still at the front of the car, cursing loud enough that Shouta could hear him even through the closed doors.

His frustration seemed to crest as he stood back to his full height and delivered an angry kick to the burned out headlight, subsequently busting the glass.

Shouta chuckled and pushed his way out of the car, “Well, I suppose that answers my question about whether or not it can be fixed.”

Hizashi gave a weary sigh and then shot him a sheepish grin, “Yeah... piece o’ shit.”

Shouta laughed again and shuffled up to the hood of the car, walking around so that he could lean against the front of the car on Hizashi’s left side - the side he knew the blonde had better hearing in.

He tilted his head up to take in the view of the night sky stretched out above them, feeling Hizashi’s shoulder brush his own. 

“The moon might be bright enough to drive without the headlights,” Hizashi observed, gaze drifting up as well.

Shouta pushed his shoulder lightly against the blonde’s, “Are you kidding me? There are too many clouds coming and going.” 

“Aw, c’mon, what’s the worst that could happen?” Hizashi whined, sticking out his lower lip even as the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. 

Shouta scoffed, “Hmm, we crash and burn? I don’t know yet if your eyesight is as bad as your hearing.” 

“Ch,” Hizashi rolled his eyes dramatically, “Shou~ you’re the last person I expected to underestimate me! Nemuri I could understand, but you?” 

“Why don’t we stay here and look at the constellations instead?” Shouta looked back up and drew in a slow breath, “The view here is so much better than it is at home... less trees.”

“Constellations?” Hizashi’s voice was lilted with genuine curiosity as Shouta shot him a glance.

Shouta blinked, “Er, yeah - they’re like... pictures in the stars? I don’t really know how to explain it... they’re stars that form a pattern or picture.” 

“Pictures?” Hizashi’s eyes had gone wide with child-like wonder, the look that always made Shouta’s heart skip a beat, “Well then don’t tell me, show me!” 

“Sure, we’ll start with one that’s easy to spot,” Shouta chuckled lightly and pressed closer so that the blonde could follow his pointed finger, “See that line of stars right there, the one that curves down? That’s the handle for the big dipper.”

Hizashi was looking up with avid concentration, “Oh! Ha! It looks just like a big scoop, huh?” 

“Yeah, exactly,” Shouta hummed, smiling lightly as he watched Hizashi’s lips part in awe.

They stayed there for what felt like hours as Shouta showed the blonde constellation after constellation, sometimes explaining vague origins and other times listening to whatever tangent it sparked from Hizashi.

Finally after watching most of the clouds let up and the moon got bright enough to easily see the road ahead of them, Shouta let the conversation die down as he listed the last constellation that he knew in sight.

“Where’d you learn all this anyway?” Hizashi asked, his tone warm with amusement as he turned to look at the dark-haired man.

“Oh, ah...” Shouta reached up to rub the back of his neck, “I read it in a book when I was younger.”

“A book, huh?” Hizashi’s tone grew heavy with revelry, “I never learned how to read... not very well, at least.”

“Oh,” Shouta shrugged lightly, almost embarrassed at the admission, but relaxing a bit when he registered the sheer admiration in Hizashi’s gaze, “My Ma taught me.”

“Mm,” Hizashi nodded and braced his hands behind himself against the still warm hood of the car as he stared up at the night sky, “I had a... friend who tried to teach me. But he wasn’t around much and... it’s not like I had the stuff to practice on my own.”

Shouta sighed, already familiar with the sad reality, “Nemuri grew up that way. By the time I came around, my Ma had saved up enough for some school supplies... they’re expensive.”

“They’re a luxury,” Hizashi agreed, his voice tight as he shrugged slightly.

Shouta looked away from the stars and at the blonde, “Too many kids can’t get by cause they don’t have the right tools. Pisses me off.”

“That’s why you take the things you do when we raid corner stores, yeah? Pencils, erasers, books...” Hizashi glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, “So no one else has to grow up like that.”

“Mm,” Shouta hummed in agreement and nodded once, returning his gaze to the stars.

They stood there in simple silence for a few minutes, sharing each other’s warmth as they stared up at the night sky.

“What do you think it would look like? If we... were up there, looking down here?” Shouta asked, the low rumble of his voice sounding loud even to him in the silence of the night.

Hizashi was quiet for a moment as he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, “I dunno, never really thought about.”

Shouta continued to stare up at the vast open sky, eyes flitting between the memorized constellations that his mother used to read about, “I think everything would look awfully small... insignificant.”

“Hm,” Hizashi huffed an almost laugh and leaned closer to follow Shouta’s gaze as the dark-haired man lifted a finger and traced Orion’s Belt, “Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind things seeming small and insignificant for once.”

“Why’s that?” Shouta asked, turning partially and nearly jolting in surprise when his nose brushed against the blonde’s due to their close proximity.

Jade green eyes blinked back at him as Hizashi stayed in place, “Well, problems down here seem so out-of-proportion sometimes, ya know? Overthinking things and... and such.”

Shouta swallowed, feeling a distinct warmth spread through his chest despite the relatively chilly night air, “You overthinking things? I thought that was my job.”

His joke felt hollow and flat, breath shallow with anticipation as Hizashi’s gaze flickered down to his parted lips just briefly.

“I only overthink one thing,” Hizashi said with a weak shrug, his voice coming out barely above a hushed whisper - so light that the faintest breeze might have carried it away before it ever reached Shouta’s ears.

“Care to share with the class?” Shouta leaned impossibly closer, their shoulders pressed flush together.

Hizashi stared at him unwaveringly, “We’ve got a good thing going, the four of us and Hitoshi. Oboro and I, we... we consider you lot to be the closest thing to family that we’ve got.”

“You know Nem and I feel the same,” Shouta answered, a wry smile twisting at his lips, “And Toshi’ll come around... we’re a family now.”

“Mm... I’d be a damned fool if I went and ruined that, huh?” Hizashi said finally, a faint tone of remorse ringing in his quiet voice.

Shouta’s heart stuttered in his chest and for a moment, he just breathed. The desert around them was dry and desolate, the crisp night air sharp with the musty smell of gasoline from the car and the sweetness of the cactus blossoms scattered across the sandy hillside.

“Ruined it?” Shouta breathed, his dark eyes going half-lidded, “What would ruin it?”

He knew the answer, had felt it himself, but god he wanted nothing more than to hear it said aloud in Hizashi’s raspy, melodic tones.

Hizashi exhaled slowly, his warm breath ghosting over Shouta’s parted lips as he inched closer, “The way I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Closer, closer until their noses brushed and Hizashi’s lashes fluttered closed as he inhaled sharply in anticipation.

The corners of Shouta’s lips quirked into a smile.

“Then I guess I’m a damned fool too,” Shouta murmured as he finally closed the gap between them, their lips meeting in a dry, chaste kiss that both of them melted into.

Shouta couldn’t help the reflex to raise both hands and tangle his fingers in Hizashi’s long hair, grinning into the kiss when he realized that it was just as silky smooth as he’d always imagined it to be.

They kissed until they were light-headed, grinning dopily as they pulled apart to gasp for breath, but stayed close enough to press their foreheads together.

Hizashi’s emerald gaze sparkled with amusement, “Clouds are gone... it’s light enough to drive again.”

“Is it?” Shouta asked with an equal air of mischievousness.

Hizashi chuckled warmly, then pressed forward for another brief kiss before he spun them around to reverse their positions and began pulling Shouta around the car by his loose tie. The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow as the blonde bypassed the driver’s seat and opened the back door.

“Probably safer if we wait till morning, though.” Hizashi winked at him, and Shouta laughed aloud as he clambered into the cramped back seat with the blonde.

It felt like they were the only two beings that existed in the entire world in that moment, under the stars. And Shouta would have been a damned fool if he didn’t cling to every moment that he could get.  

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - How A Star Is Born ch.X

Hercules AU, founded by @evaroze, whom this fic is a gift for. I hope y’all like it!

ch.IX

AO3 link

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel, though a bit salty that her uncle would send her away from battle, quickly saw the chaos raining down on Earth and formed her own plan: find dipper and work together to save the world. Simple enough. So she used Gompers the giant goat to gallop across the valley and through the woods to Thebes, where a big goblin was smashing buildings and weirdness was torturing the Greek city, creating an apocalyptic atmosphere.

Mabel remembered where her brother’s house was and heard an old man yell as Gompers approached. She stopped the giant goat and gasped at who was at the entrance. In armor and a red cape, someone who looked a lot like her Grunkle Ford was staring at her with brown eyes that matched her own.

Stan smiled nervously and stepped forward. “Hi… Mabel, ri-...”

“GRUNKLE STAN!” Mabel cheered with tears streaming down her face and she jumped down into his arms, knocking him to the ground, but Stan just laughed and hugged his newfound niece. “I can’t believe it! I get to meet you! Hi! I’m Mabel! Hi!”

“Well, hey there, pumpkin.” Stan greeted as he hugged her and petted her long brown hair. “Grunkle, huh? I love it! Alright, lemme look at you.” He gently held her by the shoulders and grinned at the blushing muse. She glowed golden, her skin a slightly bright hue than his thanks to being immortal. “Holy Hera, you’re beautiful. You look like Ma, bless her soul. Wow… just, wow.”

Mabel brought him into another hug and whispered, “Thanks. I… I never thought I’d get to see you.”

“Mabel?” Dipper said weakly as he leaned against the doorway.

Mabel and Stan gave him their full attention, still completely ignoring the devastation taking place around them, and Mabel cried freely as she looked at her twin. “DIPPER!” She got off her knees and ran to him. He graced himself for impact, but was happily brought into a tight hug that lifted him off his feet. Clearly she had some god-like strength, too.

“Mabel… it’s great to see you…”

“I missed you, I missed you, I MISSED YOU!” Mabel yelled happily and sat him on his feet. She looked back at her great-uncle, who was on his feet and joining the niblings, and she reached out a hand for him and held Dipper’s hand. “Look at this! We’re a family again! So… how do you like each other?” She asked excitedly.

Dipper shrugged. “Fine.”

Stan chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re not still… mad about me not telling you, are you?”

“Wait… oh.” Mabel said and let her boys go and took a step back to let them talk.

“I’m just…” Dipper gritted his teeth and rubbed his forehead, his head grazing over his birthmark that looked like a kitchen dipper. “I don’t understand. Why? Why didn’t you ever tell me? Were you… Are you really that ashamed to be family?”

“No.” Stan quickly said. “No, Dipper, I… I’m proud to be your family. I am so proud of you, hero or no hero. I… I just didn’t know how to tell you. I almost did when we first met, when this scrawny but strong and smart twelve-year-old came to my doorstep, desperate to become a hero only so he could have a family again, but… I decided you were better off not knowing. You were already dealing with so much, knowing you had an uncle who was a total failure didn’t need to be one of them. 

“I’m sorry.” The old trainer of heroes said woefully. “I wish I had told you. I wish I had been more honest with you. But… kid, it doesn’t matter if I’m your uncle or not. Nothing’s changed. Not really. I’m still so proud of you and I’m still gonna do everything I can to make sure you two aren’t ever separated ever again.” Stan swore, pointing at Dipper and Mabel. “Even if it happens tomorrow or thirty years from now, I swear it’ll happen. But no matter what, you’ll always have a family, Dipper. We’ll always be a family, god or no gods, blood or no blood.”

Dipper let this soak in, then sighed and swayed a little. Really, if it wasn’t for everything going on, the big reveal probably wouldn’t have been as devastating, it was just a lot at once. “Yeah… Yeah, we will…”

Mabel’s smile dropped at seeing how pale and sickly he looked, and she rubbed his shoulders and was much more gentle with him. “Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?”

“He traded his strength away to that Bill guy.” Stan informed.

Mabel turned to look at the big goblin tearing up the city. “I’m guessing that’s why.” The young muse cracked her knuckles and grinned excitedly. “And here I thought I was gonna miss a fight! Stan, you look after Dipper, I’ll handle Ugly.” And she ran down the street for the monster.

“Mabel, no!” Dipper called after her, stepping towards her, but he tripped over his feet and Stan had to catch him.

“Easy, kid, easy. Your sis can handle this.” Stan reassured. “Check it.”

Mabel ran past people who were trying to get out of Eight Ball’s way. She slid to a stop at the town’s circle and whistled loudly. Eight Ball looked down and laughed. “A little girl?! Aw, what, are you gonna dance for me?”

Mabel growled and sneered a sly smile. “If it’ll make you happy… let’s dance!” And she pulled out her duel sword from either hip and plunged them into a green foot that was almost as big as her.

Eight Ball yelled and kicked up, sending Mabel up in the air. The goblin quickly swatted her and she was thrown against a stone wall and slid down painfully, but she staggeringly got up and resumed the fight.

“Ouch! That’s it, pumpkin, shake it off!” Stan coached.

Dipper pulled himself away from Stan and moaned, “I gotta help her…”

“Kid, you’ll die without your strength.” Stan said firmly and made Dipper sit down on a step of their home. “Just breathe and rest, okay? You’ll get your strength back in twenty-three hours.”

Dipper held his head. While so weak and in pain, it was hard for him to think. His mind was so stuffed and so full but so low on energy that he was driving himself insane, but those words created a clear path of thinking, and he shot up as an idea came to mind. “Or if you’re hurt.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah.”

“The deal’ll break if you’re hurt.” Dipper explained and looked around. He saw Pacifica guiding children into a house where they would be safe, and he whistled. “Paz! C’mere!”

The blonde woman looked ashamed, but did as she was told. She slowly approached the scowling old man and the weak young man as she nervously played with her hair. “Listen, I…”

“No, you listen. You owe us a favor.” Dipper panted, weak from the effort of whistling.

“Uh, okay.” Pacifica agreed.

“Punch him.” Dipper said, jabbing a thumb at Stan.

“Me?”

“Him?”

“Him.”

Pacifica shrugged. “Okay.” And she gave him a sharp left hook.

“GAH!” Stan held his cheek and rubbed. “Woman! That hurt!”

“Good!” Dipper laughed, his color instantly returning and his stance getting stronger, grinning with pride over his own cleverness. “You got hurt! The deal’s off!”

“YES!” Stan cheered and punched his shoulder, having no effect on the young hero with god-like strength. “That’s my little conman! NOW GO BEAT UP THAT GUY WITH YOU SISTER!”

Dipper nodded and ran off into battle. 

Mabel was doing a very good job of fighting off the monster, but the fight was at a stand-still. At one point the muse was in the clutches of Eight Ball, both hands trapping her as she squirmed and pulled. “I’m gonna bite your head off!” He roared.

“LEAVE MY SISTER ALONE!” Dipper demanded, grabbing a lit torch, jumping off a tall building, and smacking Eight Ball in one of his weird eyes with the fire.

“GAH!” The monster dropped Mabel, who recovered by doing a flip and landed perfectly with a bend of her knee. Dipper jumped down beside her and they both smiled proudly at each other, only allowed a moment before eight Ball had recovered and roared, but one sly glance at each other and the fallen god and the young muse were ready to do battle.

They pounced on the goblin, Dipper throwing punches and Mabel using her duel swords, and they fell behind a large mountain with the beast. Stan and Pacifica gasp, the battle out of sight, and three voices yelled when large rocks from the side of the mountain fell. The audience ran closer, but stopped as they heard rustling. Preparing for the worst but praying for the best, Dipper and Mabel slowly emerged, a bit dirty but healthy nonetheless.

Stan hollered with joy as his chest swelled with pride while Pacifica clapped politely. “THAT’S MY KIDS! Alright, alright! I’m so proud of you guys!”

Dipper and Mabel grinned, but the brother looked up at the dark clouds seriously. “Bill’s still out there…”

“OH NO!” Mabel smacked her forehead. “I almost forgot! More monsters were attacking Olympus! Grunkle Ford needs our help!”

“You two go help Sixer.” Stan said and jabbed a thumb at the broken city. “I better help these guys out, tell the press what’s going on, the usual stuff.”

“You sure?” Mabel asked. “We could use your help.”

“Nah, you don’t need me.” Stan chuckled. “You both just took on a monster with your bare hands like it was nothing! Now go save the world!”

Mabel and Dipper grinned, excited to kick that demon back where he belongs, and the muse whistled for Gompers. As soon as he arrived they got up on him and galloped for the home of the gods, ready for Round 2.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s our status?!” Ford asked his best friend.

“Everyone’s bein’ turned t’stone!” Fiddleford yelled as an eyebat shined a beam down at him. “Even me!”

“NO!” Ford threw his last bolt at the eyebat, but it swerved out of the way and scooped up Fiddleford’s frozen body.

Ford looked left and right, waiting for an idea to come to him, but he was too clouded with anxiety and worry that he failed to notice the huge, now three-dimensional demon behind him. “Fordsie, I’m home.” A shrill voice sang.

“Bill?” Ford breathed, his eyes narrowing in anger and he shook with rage. He should have listened to Mabel and knew he was behind this. He growled like an angry bulldog and tried to throw a punch, but with a lift of a finger Bill had total control over Ford’s body and made him float lifelessly in front of him.

“Well well, looks like you truly are as dumb as you look. Tell me, did you really think such a powerful being would ever be friends with a six-fingered monster?” Bill laughed evilly and moved two arms close, creating lava and ice to work together to encase Ford in a stony prison. “This dimension is mine, Sixer, and it’s all thanks to you.” He said as Ford climbed and crawled to try to escape, but was steadily being encased, like quicksand. “Now all I need to do is make sure those brats stay out of my way.”

“NO! NO!” Ford screamed. “NOT MY KIDS, YOU CA-…” And he was completely covered.

“I’m the one giving orders now, Freak.” Bill sneered and sat in his new throne the eyebats had made for him, made entirely out of gods and goddesses. “And I think I’m gonna like it here.”

“Don’t get too comfortable, Bill!” A voice yelled and Bill turned red and left his throne to see behind him.

Bursting on top of the mountain, Gompers carried Dipper and Mabel, who hopped down and scowled up at the mean triangle.

“WHAAAAAAAAAT?!?! No, no no NO!” Bill roared. “Eight Ball had ONE job to do! UGH! Henchmaniacs, TAKE THEM OUT!”

The twins nodded at each other, agreeing to the plan, and Mabel gave Dipper some cover by hopping over the monsters and attacking the eyebats, stabbing them like they were meatballs. Dipper quickly hurried to the throne made of stoned gods, and used his god-like intelligence to know which god to pull loose.

After a quick analysis, Dipper gently pulled out a dark-skinned goddess with a red dress, the goddess of summer and romance, one by one all of the victims were unfrozen and the throne fell apart. Freed and ready for battle, gods pulled out their weapons and helped Mabel attack the monsters now that all of the eyebats were dead.

“YA HOO!” Fiddleford hollered and smacked little Teeth with a banjo. “Thanks, Mason!”

Dipper grinned and quickly climbed over the large pile of rock. At the top, he tore the prison apart and freed Grunkle Ford. The men had a moment much like Stan and Mabel had, simply looking at each other, until Ford blinked his eyes dry and put a six-fingered hand on each of dipper’s shoulders. “Thank you, my boy.”

Dipper felt like throwing up, but in a good way. He and Ford looked down at the glorious battle of gods defeating the monsters, and they quickly joined in.

One by one as monsters were defeated, Dipper used his super strength to pull them behind them, gathering unconscious, sagging bodies until he and Mabel were at the entrance of Olympus with their gain. Mabel swiped the Golden Rope of Truth from the goddess of summer and romance and the twins worked together to tie up the minions in a heap, and Mabel held them still while Dipper kicked so powerfully they flew all the way to the ocean and down through the little hole in space-time, which sealed instantly.

Mabel pounced on her brother, who scooped her up and hugged her tightly as everyone cheered over their victory. Ford was by their side, ruffling their hair and smiling with brown eyes full of love. “I’m so proud of you both.”

Dipper could feel all his dreams coming true, but a shrill voice rang through the dark clouds as a golden triangle fled. “Thanks a ton, freaks! But at least I got one swell consolation prize! A friend of yours, who’s dying to see me!”

The three gasp over fear of losing their missing family member forever. “STAN!”

[de-profundis-ad-astra]

Fury, Oh Fury - Part One

Triple Frontier | Hunger Games AU

Me: Hey what if I started working on Fury again? Y’all: Me: Hey if I started working on Fury again would you read it? Y’all: Me: Okay okay you’ve forced my hand I guess I gotta start working on Fury again

Rating || Mature (for graphic descriptions of violence/gore and strong language) Characters || Ben Miller. William Miller. A good chunk of this fic will be heavily focused on the Miller brothers, because I’m most comfortable writing them and I feel like I know them the best. Rest assured, Pope and Catfish will be making appearances ~eventually~ Word Count || 4.2k Taglist || (Starting out tagging some mutuals and people I remember from the previous taglist)  @firefeatherx​ @mylifeliterally​ @mandoplease​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @skylyknightly​ @havenforafrazzledmind​ @beatriz-silva-00​ @veuliee​ @veuliee2​ @oldstuffnewstuff​ @dindisneydjarin​ @lilacyennefer​ @dignityneeded​ @agirllovespancakes​​ @xjustmenobodyelse​​ @oscarflysaac @jaime1110​​ @goldenhour-goldenboy​​ @pascalz​​ @briskywalker​​ @herestherealproblem​​ @givemethatgold​​

Author’s Note || For anyone who might be new here, @veuliee​ sent me a concept that I kinda uh, tripped over my own feet and plunged face first into and that’s the story of how I started writing a Hunger Games AU for Triple Frontier. Things got unbelievably crazy once I started work, and I’ve had some pretty unhealthy work/home boundaries with being virtual. I’m trying to establish some healthier limits and make more time for my writing, and this seemed like a good enough starting point. That and the outlines for the rest of this fic are still staring at me and demanding to be written.

So, here goes.

Home hasn’t felt like home since Will left.

It’s been nothing more than a house since the day of the reaping, almost a month ago. A collection of walls with a roof—the same as any other building. The place where he grew up. A place to rest his head and feed himself between training sessions. It won’t be home until Will comes back.

If he comes back.

Will has trained for this, Ben tells himself when doubt creeps in, wraps its icy fingers around his lungs and clenches tight, pushes down on his chest in the dead of the night and it feels like Ben is drowning. Will practiced and fought and earned the chance to volunteer for District Two. He wouldn’t have been selected as the male tribute for this year if his teachers hadn’t felt he had a strong chance of returning victorious.

But there had been Two’s female tribute also. And the tributes from One and Four. All were formidable in a fight, and knew the tips and tricks to survival that would be essential in the arena. Not to mention the Games themselves were an absolute wild card. For all Will’s training, he still could be killed by a natural disaster of the gamemakers design, stabbed in the back by his allies, a tribute from an outlying district could catch him off guard.

There’s far too much that can go wrong; Ben drowns each and every thought behind his own training at the academy.

He can’t let that kind of vulnerability shine through. Not to his father. Not to his peers. Especially not when he’s being followed as much as his brother in the arena. Since the field of tributes narrowed down to eight five days ago, when Capitol cameras and personnel arrived to interview him and his father, there’s been hardly a moment of privacy. So Ben covers his fear with a smile, says he has full confidence that his brother will be home as soon as he can. He laughs when they ask him if he’ll volunteer one day, just like his brother did.

Ben answers with a grin, says he has no place to make that determination—but who knows? 

Deep down… he knows. He’s known for a while now. He’s young, but he’s already tall, strong, quick. A prodigy, they’d said of his skills. A promised child, just like his brother was.

In spite of his age, Ben is favored to volunteer and represent District Two in the coming years. For now, though, the focus is on honing those skills, shaping him into the best warrior they can to bring pride to District Two.

The Capitol, they say, are charmed by him already. The idea of two brothers bearing the title of Victor is the kind of narrative they’re keen to fall for. So Ben plasters that smile on and lets himself become a part of the show.

Because if he lost Will…

If he lost Will—

Where would home be?

--

All of District Two seems to have hit pause, every pair of eyes glued to the nearest screen.

Peacekeepers-in-training pause their exercises. Future tributes stop their sparring matches. The lines at every shop in town are on hold. Even the children have stopped playing their games to witness this.

And in the city square, standing in front of the Justice Building in a roped off section reserved for family, the mayor, and a handful of District Two’s more recent victors, thirteen year old Benjamin Miller tries to keep his fidgeting down to an occasional scuff of his feet on the dusty ground or flex of his weary muscles.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we are entering the final moments of the Fifty-fourth annual Hunger Games!”

The massive screens mounted in the square broadcast live footage from the arena. Presently, two feeds are placed side by side, dedicated to the two remaining tributes of this year’s Hunger Games. One tracks Will’s every move, the other follows his opponent: the boy from District Four.

Will abandoned the Career pack when there were still fourteen tributes left. One night, during his watch shift, he left them behind, taking with him a pack with enough food to last him four days, a bottle of water, a sleeping bag, a hunting knife, and his preferred sword. A long, wicked thing most people might have struggled to wield two-handed. Will handled it with ease. One-handed.

Speculation rippled through the district at that. The decision to leave so early in the Games was shocking enough. Why not kill the rest while they slept and increase his odds of victory by an exponential margin? It was known that the pack would disband eventually, but why so soon?

At the academy, Will was both praised and berated for his choice. It was understandable to leave before bonds formed and killing another tribute turned into killing an ally. But so early? When so much could go wrong? It was a risk not many were brave enough to take.

In the arena, navigating the terrain proved to be its own exercise of survival. This year’s terrain consisted of three mountains of varying height, surrounded by dense forest. It became apparent early on that the woods were not safe, as they were crawling with all manner of predators, both organic and manufactured by the Capitol. Two weeks into the Games, the gamemakers destroyed the entire forest with a raging wildfire, killing an additional two tributes.

The forest now uninhabitable, Will had taken to carving out several hiding places among the mountainsides. Once he’d burned through his rations, he relied on hunting small creatures still inhabiting the cliffs and whatever his mentor was able to provide through sponsors. With the element of surprise working for him, Will had managed to ambush and eliminate four additional tributes, bringing his kill count to a whopping ten—high above the average for a typical career.

Almost half of the playing field, brought down by one seventeen-year old. Will must have struck a deal with his allies before the start of the Games, because during the bloodbath, he’d done most, if not all of the killing while the remainder of his team secured their supplies from the Cornucopia. If he walked away from this, he’d be the pride of District Two for a long time to come on that merit alone.

When the tribute pack thinned down to four, the gamemakers struck again. Devastating rockslides hammered each mountain, cutting off both Will’s access to his hiding spots, and any freshwater sources he’d relied on. The slides killed two tributes, the girl from One and the boy from Five.

Ben remembered watching in abject horror as his brother fled from the avalanche, finally managing to take cover underneath an outcropping of rock that shielded him from the worst of it. He’d escaped, though not without accruing a fair amount of scrapes and bruises along the way. The worst of it was a small, but deep cut slicing through his eyebrow. By a small miracle, it had stopped bleeding within an hour, but half of Will’s face was now crusted with streaks of dried blood, only adding to his already haggard state. He lost his knife in the chaos, but managed to hold onto his sword—his saving grace.

Not only that, but the only reason the boy from Four had survived was because he’d turned on his companion as they fled. When they were clear of the slides, while her guard was down, he’d shoved her back, right into the path of an oncoming boulder. She was crushed before she could even appear shocked by the betrayal. There weren’t even any remains left for the hovercraft to collect.

More whispers rippled through the district, then. Yes, it was sad. But it was what needed to be done.

No fresh water. Most of the wildlife either dead or scared off. Two tributes. It was evident the gamemakers wanted to end this fast. The Games had already lasted nearly three and a half weeks, far longer than average. This year had proven to be a particularly hardy bunch. Even getting a small water bottle into the arena at this rate would likely cost a large fortune.

Which meant they were on their own.

The moment the dust cleared, the cannons fired and faces projected in the sky, everyone knew what came next. Immediately, a space was cleared in the square for Ben and his father, victors called out to join and prepare to offer either congratulations or condolences depending on the outcome of the final encounter.

On the screen, Will inches his way along a narrow path on the face of the tallest mountain. All he has on his person is his sword and his clothes, veritably shredded after three weeks of fighting for his life in such an unforgiving environment. The landscape is similar enough that when Ben looks at the screen with the boy from Four, he can’t tell how near they are to each other. Will grew up in the mountains of Two. In theory, he should have an advantage over the boy from the coast. Nothing is ever set in stone, though—not in the Hunger Games. Four had proven himself to be quiet the adaptable tribute.

They have to be getting close, Ben thinks, there’s no way the gamemakers would push them away from each other at this point.

As if in answer to his thought, a low, feline snarl rumbles through the speakers. It’s faint, far away, but Will hears it. Everyone hears it. Pressing his back against the rock, he dares a swift look down towards the origin of the sound. As if oblivious to the cameras trained on him or simply not caring, Will’s shout cuts through the wind. 

“Fuck!”

The camera angle switches, and Ben’s heart plummets.

Prowling about fifty feet beneath Will’s feet is a strange breed of feline, the likes of which Ben has never seen before. Three of them. Large, with a pale golden coat and small round ears. Long, curved, razor-sharp claws extending from all four oversized paws carve thin scratches into the rock as they pace back and forth beneath him.

Ben’s first thought is cougar, but then the cat looks up, and he beholds the elongated canines extending far past its lower jaw. He’s learned about it in school. A kind of cat that went extinct long before the continent was even known as the Americas. Despite his best efforts, Ben cannot recall its name.

It’s undoubtedly a muttation, designed and put out by the gamemakers to do one thing: kill.

The long-toothed cat bares its teeth, its companions following suit. From his perch on the mountainside, Will’s chest moves rapidly. He’s struggling to control his breath, Ben realizes. His throat tightens, his stomach tangling with itself.

Beside him, his father murmurs, “Move, William, move.”

“Look at that!” one of the commentators yells. “It seems the gamemakers have one last trick up their sleeves to push Will and Reed together!”

Ben grips the rope in front of him as if that is the only thing separating him from Will. The big cat crouches, leaps up to a rock jutting out from the mountainside, ten feet closer to him. Ben spares one glance towards Four’s feed. He doesn’t seem to be faring much better. Another trio of cats nip at his heels as he struggles to ascend the mountain.

Will’s breathing slows and deepens, and he masters himself enough to take several tiny steps closer to the end of the path. There, he will easily be able to summit the mountain, another twenty feet above his head.

The cats leap up another ten feet, and Will draws his sword with one hand. Bracing his free hand on the smooth, grey rock, he angles the blade towards the advancing cats and continues inching along. Only a few more feet separate him from the safety of the broad platform of stone. Beneath him, one of the cats leans back onto its haunches. Its entire body trembles before it goes preternaturally still, preparing to make one last leap towards its prey.

Reading the movements, Will does the same. For a moment, they lock eyes. Blue to gold, predator to predator. Silence grips the square. Ben’s lungs strain against his ribs, but he doesn’t let himself breathe. Not yet. Not when it feels as if a single puff of air could alter the course of history in this moment.

The cat leaps.

So does Will.

He goes nearly parallel to the ground, his free hand reaching out for something he can catch himself on and his sword hand sweeping downward the same moment the cat swipes a clawed paw towards him.

The honed edge of the sword slices deep into the neck of the feline. A trail of blood droplets follows the arc of the blade as Will twists in midair, angling his body so his back will take the brunt of the impact and tucking his chin down into his chest. The cat yowls as it tumbles back, the sound turning into an awful gurgle before cutting off. Its body falls down the steep mountain face. Ben only catches a short glimpse before it tumbles off the screen, but he can see that Will cut deep enough that its head is barely hanging on by a few tendons and muscle fibers. A thick streak of red smears the rock where it fell.

With a grunt, Will slams into the ground, sliding over the dirt and loose rocks for a moment before his body stills. He remains there for several seconds before ever so slowly, he turns onto his side. Pressing his left hand into the ground, Will pushes himself up, dragging his feet beneath his shoulders. As soon as he puts his weight onto his legs, he gives out and he topples back down.

Any relief Ben felt at his brother’s life-saving maneuver is swelled out by a pulse of fear when he sees why his brother can’t stand.

A duo of long cuts, so straight and deep it looks almost surgical, extends from the middle of Will’s thigh down to his ankle. Ben had been so busy watching his brother he’d been oblivious to the fact that the cat had gotten him.

Each breath Will takes has blood oozing from the laceration until the leg of his pants are soaked and glistening a deep, sullen red. He tries, and fails, again to rise to his feet. Even using the sword as a support, he loses his footing and crumbles, his weight kicking up a cloud of dust when he hits the rock.

“In a stunning turn of events, it seems that the outcome of these Games have already been determined…”

Get up, Ben thinks with every shred of desperation he has. Get up, Will.

Will sluggishly turns onto his back, and hoists himself upright with his legs stretched in front of him. It seems to take every bit of energy he has to shrug his jacket off, and slide it underneath his bleeding leg. He brazenly ties the sleeves around his thigh until his arms are straining and the blood flow slows. The makeshift tourniquet may save his life, but it’s only a matter of minutes before the damage is so permanent that he risks losing the limb altogether.

Again, using his sword for support, Will heaves himself to his feet. He wobbles again, and Ben feels his heart rise into his throat before he steadies himself. Will straightens, and takes a few limping steps towards the final ascent. He’d been so busy tending to his wound, worrying about the big cats, that he hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps. Ben, too wrapped up in concern for his brother, hadn’t checked the other video feed, hadn’t heard the commentators call out in shock—

When Four crashes into Will and sinks a knife into his shoulder.

Ben, his father, the city square, the entirety of District Two, cry out in collective shock as Will and Four go down, Four pinning him with a roar so inhuman it sends a chill skittering over Ben’s bones.

It’s worse, so much worse than he’d imagined.

Blood sprays, and Will’s fingers splay when he hits the rock. His sword clattering too far for him to reach. Ben barely processes what he sees as he fights to remain upright. He feels the cameras in the square narrow in on him. He can’t give out. Not now.

Will rolls, flipping Four off of him and onto the ground, wrenching the knife in his shoulder free in the process. His blood drips down the blade as Four angles it in front of himself, his own arm shredded, likely from his encounter with those big cats. Will slowly climbs to his knees, beaten and bloody and entirely at a disadvantage. The blood, the dirt—he looks more animal than human when he bares his teeth.

Ben’s never seen anything like it. Anything so unearthly, so primal and raging.

Four leaps again, and Will leans down. As Four descends on him, Will straightens, and there’s a clang of metal on metal.

It takes a moment for Ben to understand what he sees.

But there’s Will, knife in hand, his face red with the effort it takes to keep Four from landing another blow. He’d lost his knife in the avalanche. He’d seen it.

How long had Will kept a knife hidden in his boot, waiting for a moment such as this to use it?

Will manages to deflect what would have been a life-ending blow, but they topple again. Four bellows as Will’s blade plunges into his forearm and twists. The shrieking of Four, coupled with the spray of blood, sends a chill weaving down Ben’s spine.

Move, move, move!

Four’s free hand slams into Will’s face hard enough to crack bone, and Will stumbles back, blood gushing.

Will just grunts, his brow bunching in pain and concentration.

Every part of Ben shakes.

Four punches his face again and the sound fracks from Ben, “Will.”

Four yanks his arm free of Will’s knife, blood spraying like rain as he slashes at Will. He catches Four’s wrist in the follow-through with both hands, pinning his arm across his body. Four swings with his free hand, the punch easily dodged this time by Will.

They stare at each other for long, uncounted moments, nothing between them but howling wind and heavy, pained panting.

Then Will does the last thing Ben expects him to.

He headbutts Four.

Will releases Four’s arm as he staggers towards the edge of the peak, right towards where the long-toothed cats stalk in wait. The blow proves disorienting enough, and though Four swings his arms wildly to regain his balance, he takes one step back too far back and plummets.

He screams as he falls, but it goes hauntingly quiet when he hits.

The impact of Four’s body on the stone is heard across the nation. They wait for the cannon, but there’s nothing.

The mutts attack.

Will sinks to his knees.

Ben clutches the rope so tightly his knuckles whiten. It could be minutes, it could be hours, before the cannon booms at last.

Will looks to the side, his eyes finding the camera as if he’s known precisely where it was the entire time. Something like relief shines there, overpowered by pain and fury and something feral as the announcer declares, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the fifty-fourth Hunger Games, William Miller—the tribute of District Two!”

--

Two days later, Will’s final interview in the Capitol airs. Before now, he’s been kept keenly away from the cameras, and it becomes clear why the moment Ben sees him for the first time since his final glimpse in the arena. He wears a sharp grey suit, but any evidence of his injuries on his face have been wiped away. Whether by makeup or surgical alteration, Ben can’t tell. His skin is smooth and pristine, unmarred by bruises or cuts or even the faintest scar.

The crowd breaks into applause as Will is presented. He gives a winning smile, but the haunted glow is still there. He still looks a little too much like a cornered animal. His stylist is praised for his masterful capture of Will’s strength, physique, and iron-willed character.

Will sits in the victor’s chair like he was born for it. Maybe he was. He views the highlights with the rest of the nation, and answers his interviewer’s questions with grace.

“While you were there, in the arena,” says the host. “Was there any one thing that kept you going?”

Will seems to think on it for a moment, working his jaw over before he answers, “My brother. The whole time… I just wanted him to know that I love him.”

The audience croons about how strong and brave he is. Ben feels himself swell with pride.

He wants to be like Will one day, he thinks.

--

The wait for the train is its own agony.

District Two is nearest to the Capitol, but operations there don’t start until late in the morning on a good day. With the conclusion of the Games so fresh, it seems they need a few extra hours to get moving.

At last, the train rolls into the station late in the afternoon. No one comments on how Ben stood there, waiting for almost the whole day as more and more citizens of Two arrive to welcome their newest victor. They chatter amongst themselves, clearing space for Ben’s father as he arrives at last, fresh off his shift as the town’s head Peacekeeper.

As the train crawls to a halt, the voices around Ben die down, awaiting with bated breath for Will to show himself. Ben feels like he’s about to burst from his own skin with the anticipation—

The doors open, and there he is.

Will’s eyes snap to Ben’s almost instantly. The relief that cleaves through him almost knocks him to his knees.

Ben thinks it might have, had Will not leaped down and ran to him.

Will opens his arms, and Ben finds his way home.

--

Will remembers every face of every tribute in that godforsaken place.

The ones he killed directly haunt him the most.

He kept count of many things in the arena. The minutes that turned into hours that turned into days away from home… away from Ben. The number of breaths he still counted himself lucky to take. But most poignant of all was those faces. Each one, their faces as they died, had been etched into his memory. Every time he blinks, he sees them.

Ten. He killed ten of them.

The train barely makes a creak as it speeds over the railway. The ride from the Capitol to District Two isn’t long—barely an hour.

Though he grew up in one of the “wealthy” districts, there is a certain elegance to Capitol wares Will thinks he’s going to miss. He relishes in every moment he has left, wresting back thoughts of death and killing and betrayal.

He hadn’t been lying when he said it was Ben that got him through the worst of it in the arena. But that hadn’t been the whole truth, either. It was the thought of how he could redeem himself after so much tragedy, inflicting so much pain on others. He couldn’t do that if he let himself die in the arena.

How did Ben—little Benny, who perhaps wasn’t so little anymore but would always be to Will—see him now, at the end of it all? What could he say that would make all the violence, all the killing, right.

He didn’t know how, but he would do it. Will would make sure to see it done, no matter what it took.

Will is barely formulating what he can say to his brother when he feels the breaks engage on the train. All too soon, just like that, he’s back home… whatever home is, now. Sure, he’ll have the house in Victor’s Village and of course his family would be allowed to live with him, but the concept seems too foreign, now. He suspects it’ll take some time to adjust to that.

His mentor—a victor from about ten years ago, beckons him forward. Will’s legs are surprisingly shaky as he rises to his feet. Outside, he can hear the district already clapping, cheering for him. He tries to imagine Ben there, tries to pretend that his brother will be happy to see him, that he’ll be happy to see Ben.

The doors open.

Light floods the train car, and Will almost lifts a hand to block the sun. The initial surge of stimulus is overwhelming. The light, the sound, the unrelenting heat of the mountains. Will blinks hard to adjust his eyes.

As if by gravitational pull, he sees him.

His eyes find Ben’s, almost an exact mirror of his own. His brother’s eyes are wide, his face broken into a grin so wide it’s a wonder his skin hasn’t split.

That’s all it takes.

Will leaps down from the train car and runs. Every thought, every doubt, every word flees his mind as he takes in the sight of his brother. Healthy and whole and alive.

Ben’s there to meet him. They collide, and Will finds his way home.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #10

Dragon Age - #10 - Blood Loss

*

“This is miserable,” Dorian announced.

“You’re being overdramatic,” Lavellan said, slipping past him. 

“I am cold. My feet? I lost feeling in them three hours ago. I have to keep looking to make sure they’re still there,” Dorian said.

“Try a shirt,” Iron Bull said, smacking Dorian on the back good-naturedly.

“I’m not sure you’re one to talk,” Lavellan said, stopping to observe some tracks in the snow. “Honestly, Dorian, it’s not that bad here.”

“Emprise du Lion is the worst place in all of Thedas, and I’m saying that as a man who lived in Tevinter,” Dorian said. 

“Well, boss?” Bull asked, ignoring Dorian.

“They should be up ahead,” Lavellan said, shaking his head to get the snow off his ears. “The snow has hardly covered these tracks. They’re the freshest we’ve come across.”

“Good. Then we can kill them and get out of here before Dorian complains even more,” Cassandra said.

“I see you shivering,” Dorian said, narrowing his eyes at her.

“But do you see me complaining?” she said.

“Quite frequently, actually,” Dorian said.

She marched on ahead, following the tracks in the snow. Lavellan let himself fall behind so that he was walking next to Dorian.

He slipped off the cloak he was wearing and draped it over Dorian’s shoulders. “Honestly, we need to get you better clothing. No wonder you’re freezing.”

“Fashion is worth the suffering,” he said, attempting to shrug the cloak off. 

“Stop,” Lavellan said, putting his hand on Dorian’s arm. “You need it more than me. I’m fine.”

“Amatus, you are the one thing I will never complain about,” Dorian said.

“You were just complaining about me this morning.”

“Well, that’s because you jumped through that hole in the floor of Skyhold again.”

“I had to talk to Solas.”

“We have stairs!”

“The hole is faster!” 

Dorian threw his arms up in exasperation. “When you finally break your legs, don’t come...well, not crawling to me, because your legs will be broken, but...you know what I mean! No sympathy from me.” 

Lavellan laughed. “I think you’d show me a little sympathy. I did give you my cloak to keep you warm.”

“Ah, yes, thank you for giving me a cloak and more stress than I know what to do with,” Dorian said. “Noted and much appreciated.”

“Hey! Red Lyrium bastards up ahead!” Bull called back to them. 

The air became charged as Lavellan called on his magic. “Well. Shall we go kill some Red Lyrium bastards?”

“What, going to climb up a cliff and jump on them?” Dorian said.

Lavellan flashed him that mischievous grin of his. “I just might.”

He grabbed his staff and ran forward. Dorian sighed, but gripped his staff and followed Lavellan.

Bull and Cassandra were already charging into the fray, weapons swinging at their surprised enemies. Lavellan cast a barrier of fire between him and Dorian, and their enemies. 

They began flinging magic about, driving back enemies and taking down whoever was foolish enough to prevail towards them. Dorian let his focus go to the fight, trying to watch Iron Bull’s back as Red Templars tried to charge him. Cassandra was holding her ground thanks to her shield, but Dorian wished they’d brought along someone like Cole to catch the Red Templars off guard.

Still, they hadn’t expected to run into this much trouble. They’d just have to make do with the group they had. 

The Red Templars were trying to get around Lavellan’s barrier, and Dorian had to switch his focus to keeping himself covered. Lavellan threw up another barrier, but several had slipped past when the first one went down and now ran at the two.

“Dorian!” Lavellan cried as a Red Templar reached him. Lavellan flung out his hand, ignoring the two Red Templars charging him, and Dorian could feel the tingling sensation of spirit magic as the Templar’s weapon came down.

It struck Dorian, but the protective shield of magic took the blow, and Dorian only staggered back, unharmed. He wasted no time in sending the Red Templar back with a burst of magic.

He spun to face Lavellan, just in time to see the Red Templar’s sword pierce through him.

Lavellan had tried to throw himself out of the way, which was the only thing that kept the blade from plunging into his chest. But it still drove deep into his shoulder, and he let out a cry that echoed horrifically through the air. 

Dorian let his anger out in a burst of magic that collided with the attacker’s chest, sending him flying through the air with a scream. The corpses on the battlefield began to rise as Dorian’s magic surged through him and mingled with his fury. The corpses hefted their weapons, running for the two that had attacked Lavellan. 

Dorian ran forward as the corpses reached their targets. He dropped to his knees in the snow, horror snatching the air from his lungs at the sight of the blood-soaked snow.

“Amatus,” Dorian whispered, gripping Lavellan’s hand. He forced a smile as Lavellan’s pained eyes fell on him. “It’s not that bad. I’m sure it hurts like a bitch, but you’re going to be fine.”

He was not fine. The wound was gushing blood alarmingly fast, and Lavellan was going to bleed out in just two or three minutes if Dorian didn’t act fast.

Dorian took the cloak off and moved to press it to Lavellan’s wound. Lavellan squirmed beneath him.

“No...no, you’re c-cold...you need it m-more,” he said weakly. 

Dorian let out a choked laugh that was half a sob. “You idiot. You wonderful idiot.”

“Keep it s-so you’re not c-cold,” he said. He tried to shift, and winced. “Gotta...gotta stay warm.”

Dorian opted for tearing his pant leg, using the material to press against Lavellan’s wound. Lavellan cried out in pain, and Dorian used his free hand to push Lavellan down.

“Don’t move,” he said. “You’ll make it worse. Oh, hell. No, it’s alright. You’re alright.”

“B-Bad?” he whispered. 

“No. Looks worse than it is,” Dorian said. Lavellan’s eyes flickered to the blood spreading across the snow. “Not all yours,” Dorian lied. “I took down two of them. Don’t try to take all the credit.” 

Dorian didn’t know healing magic. His specialty wouldn’t be any use until it was too damn late.

But he had to do something, or Lavellan would be gone. Blood was already soaking Dorian’s trembling hands.

“Amatus,” Dorian said in alarm. “Stay awake. Look at me. I’m a great sight.”

But Lavellan didn’t open his eyes. His body went slack, and Dorian pressed his hands to the wound harder, desperate to stop any more blood from leaving Lavellan’s body.

No, no, no. He would not lose the man he loved. Not like this. What good was magic if he couldn’t use it to save the people he loved?

Dorian closed his eyes, having no idea what the hell he was doing. He just pushed his magic out, his mind focused on Lavellan’s torn flesh. He pictured it stitching back together, pictured the magic flowing through his veins the way it did when he cast his necromancy spells. A body was a body, and Dorian knew them well.

He let his magic flow into Lavellan until he felt light headed with the effort. Afraid of passing out and not being able to keep pressure on the wound, he opened his eyes and looked down, tentatively pulling a hand away.

The bleeding had slowed considerably. Part of Lavellan’s wound had started to heal.

“Oh, thank the Maker.” Dorian sagged with relief, and resumed applying pressure. “I am never going to stop complaining when you wake up. You scare the hell out of me. Fuck, I love you.”

Cassandra came running over to them, Bull picking off the last of the Red Templars now. She dropped to her knees at Lavellan’s side, and inspected his condition.

“I partially healed the wound,” Dorian said. “Don’t ask me how, because I have no clue. We need to get him medical attention, though. He lost a lot of blood, and he’s still bleeding.”

“If we can get him medical attention quickly, he’ll be okay,” Cassandra said, getting up. “Stay here. I’ll go get help. It’s too dangerous to move him. Keep the pressure on that wound.”

She took off at a run, determination on her face. Dorian looked down at his bloody hands, the only thing between Lavellan and an early death.

“You’ll be okay,” Dorian said, his voice shaking as badly as his hands now. “Probably won’t be able to jump down to Solas for a bit. But I won’t even whine about it next time you’re well enough to do it. Just the first time, though. After that, it’s fair game for complaining.”

He was well aware that he was rambling, but he felt compelled to keep talking. As if hearing Dorian’s voice would keep Lavellan tethered here. 

Lavellan just had to fight a little longer. Cassandra would return with help, and Lavellan would be on bedrest for a while but then he’d be right back to his old self.

So Dorian kept talking, his hands pressed to Lavellan’s wound. This was all he could do for Lavellan now, but it was a task he would not fail. He didn’t care what it took; he would not lose Lavellan.

[wistfulwisteriawitch]

Arthur Morgan x Lilith Vallent OC: Vas Ura (My One)/ Vas Soluna (My Bonded) Part 01 Chapter 03: Colter

Part 01 Chapter 03: Colter

I managed to get myself set up, knowing we’d actually be going after John since he was still missing. Attaching the leather over bust corset riddled with knives as well as the leather leg guards I exhaled, it would be interesting to see what they thought of our way of doing things but they seemed rather accepting thus far.

And as we moved to go out, Abigale grabbed my sleeve. “Miss Vallent?”

“Yes Abigale?”

“John…”

“Oh the gentleman that you said was your sons father?”

“Yes…”

Arthur had walked into the room and was warming himself by the fire. “Where’s little John gotten off to?”

“Arthur he hasn’t been seen in a couple days, I fear the worst.”

“John is fine, he gets himself out of scrapes all the time.” Arthur huffed. "Granted he could throw himself on the ground and miss so that's a feat in and of itself."

I cocked a brow, “I’ll go find him.” I pat her arm, “I can track him.”

Arthur groaned, “I’ll go with ya.”

“How kind.” I grinned as I walked by, Hosea nudged me as I sidled by with a smirk and a whispered thank you.

“I’ll come too!” Javier noted. “John would do the same for me and Arthur.”

“Sure, might be good considering the wolves.”

“Wolves?” Javier asked as we mounted up.

I nodded, after ensuring I had everything needed including shotgun with slugs. “Yes, alright you two, flank me, head forward in a V position, and try to keep it unless we head up the mountain, in that case line up.” With that I spurred Luna into a gallop. “Let’s go! Belladonna shadow!”

“Aye Milady!” And with that her horse charged off into the wilderness.

“Shadow?” Arthur inquired as we moved at a quick pace.

“She’ll scout ahead, and send Aristotle if she finds something.”

“And that is—“ A screech above as a Ferrugius Hawk soared past.

“She is skilled in Falconry, her family learned for many years in her home country. Normally their line uses Peregrine, but him...he's been with Belladonna alone, and each member has their own Falcon breed. Birds like that are the largest of hawks to be used for Falconry. And he is quite protective. She found him in Mexico.”

“Ha!” Javier seemed a bit stunned, “you all keep surprising us.”

“We are a surprising people. Javi.” I managed to find John’s trail and exhaled, “fuck he went up the mountain.” Just like the game.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “just like him to have someone dig his ass out of snow.”

I sighed, “Arthur take the middle, Javier take the front, I’ll watch the back.” And with a chiding look as he glanced over his shoulder. “This is what family does.” I noted as we lined up and began to trek up the mountainside, myself taking the end. “Javier do you see where the trail picks up?”

“Yes, he headed up this way.”

“We’ll have to leave the horses.” Arthur noted and I agreed, we got off and began to make our way further along a cliffside. “John!” Javi shouted.

“HELP! DOWN HERE!”

With that I took off, making sure to keep my movements swinging forward to help me trudge through the snow faster. “Mister Marston?” I called finding him on the ledge. “Awe poor puppy.”

“Puppy?! Who in the fuck are you?”

“A friend. Hold the fuck still. We don’t need you bleeding and bringing a bear. Wolves are a pain in the ass enough.” I gathered what I needed from my satchel and made him down a few tonics and salved him up with an antiseptic solution of old mans beard and golden thread. “That will have to do for now, I’ll need to draw any infection out at the cabin. Alright, come on.” I gripped under his arm and hauled him up. “Arthur!”

They were there reaching for him, Arthur laughing, “well now Marston, looks like ya got yer head ate by wolves. How much’a yer brains did they get?”

“Shut up Morgan.”

“You gonna have to come up with a better story for those scars.”

“Getting half eaten by wolves ain’t enough?”

“We got company gentlemen!” I shouted, ”Javier, Arthur— get him to the horses!”

“I got you.” Arthur had one shot down in seconds as the others charged down the slope.”

“BELLA!” A shrill whistle as a large hawk circled over head and dove into the eyes of one of the wolves screeching.

A black streak of horse and woman charged forward from behind us as she leapt off it's back, her body clad in leather padding as she took the tackle of a she-wolf head on while I dodged and sliced a death blow to a jugular. “Come on ya wee bitch!” Bella roared plunging a blade into it’s throat.

Aristotle soared high, blood splattering from his talons and across his feathers as Bella let out a snarl of glee when the final wolf was downed by a blade thunked into it’s throat.

Arthur shot down the final one, sighing and glancing at the two of us. “Remind me never to make her angry.” He mused as Bella ruffled Aristotle’s feathers and set him loose again, “that is a big bird.”

“He’s a beauty inn’e?” Bella asked fluffing her hair out and wiping blood off her face. “We ready?”

“Yes, John how you holding up?” I asked.

“Feel drunk.”

“Good that means it’s working.”

“Oh joy.” Was the sarcastic reply.

We managed to make it down the mountain, Belladonna staying to get the meat and pelts from the wolves.

“She gonna be alright?” Javier asked.

“Worry about the woodland creatures who piss her off.” I laughed.

“Bella?” Belial asked as we rode in, “ah…hunting.” He chuckled and walked off back towards the kitchen area.

Arthur sighed and leaned over to speak to me, “watch the golden boy not get a scolding despite holding up a job.”

Dutch of course was ecstatic John was back and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Siblings?” I asked smiling.

“We both was raised by Dutch and Hosea. They taught us to read.”

“Awe, I can see that.” I smiled wide at him, and he returned with a shy smile back. He gets a bit of a playful look, “you know for someone so small you sure as hell take up a lot of space.” He sniffs and cocks a brow.

“You know for someone so big you can curl up on the edge of a bed real easy. Next time just huggle-up and I won’t have to latch on like a damn possum.”

It was the first time he genuinely laughed. “I’ll remember that little wolf.” He was glancing over my gear and had a look of confusion.

“Leather, protects quite well.”

“What ya goin to war?” He poked my arm guards and outer leg guards as well as the leather corset flicking a knife handle.

“Life is war.” I tilted my head.

“Hmph, ain’t that just bout right.”

As I was about to ask what he meant Belladonna zoomed into camp with furs and blood all over her. “I’m back!” She said prancing off her stallion Bairn.

I chuckled, “welcome back sister.”

“Didja see the pelt on that she-wolf?” She crowed tugging it off her horse, “it’s like ya hair milady, I should make a new cloak and we can trade.”

“I would like that thank you Bella.” She grinned and whistled for Aristotle who landed on her thickly gloved forearm. “There’s a good boy.”

Everyone in camp balked.

“Wah ya never seen’a damn bird afore?” She scoffed. “Come on pretty boy.” She was feeding him strips of wolf, “lessee what ya da is up ta.”

I rolled my eyes. “You get used to her.”

“Body can get used to anything…”

“Even hanging.” I finished and we laughed walking over to Hosea and Dutch.

“Got anymore maidens that need saving?” Arthur asked.

“No,” Hosea chuckled. “Thanks you three.”

“Javier tipped his hat and walked off as Arthur joined me in the cabin where Abigale tended to Marston.

“Alright, lemme work.” I shooed most people away, and grinned. “Marston this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Ya aint gotta look like ya gonna enjoy it!”

Arthur chuckled, “I will.”

“Of course you would.” John muttered.

I forced willow bark tea down his throat, irrigated the wound with stinging solutions of horsetail and once it was cleaned I made a salve and packed it with bandages. “Don’t touch it. You’ll have a mark but congratulations you were chosen to bear them by a powerful creature. In our ways it means you are protected.”

“Sure felt like that when they bit me.”

“They could have killed you.” I said softly. “But they did not. They left. Think upon that. I do not play with coincidence or dice to tell me my fate rather that things happen for a reason.”

John pondered and cracked a slight grin. “Guess so.”

“Either way, get rest, I shall have Bel bring food, you need to gather your strength to heal.”

“Thank you.” Abigale clutched my hand tight and I nodded, “let Jack see his Pa.” I leveled a gaze at John, “I am sure he was quite worried for his father.”

John seemed to squirm under my direct gaze and I softened it before leaving.

“What was that?”

“It seemed there was some tension in regards to little Jack.” I said.

“That obvious?” Arthur huffed an annoyed sound.

“Yes, but Marston is young, he can learn.”

Arthur glanced me up and down, “hm.” Was all he said.

I really wished I could get into his head sometimes.

— - - - - - - - - - - -

Arthur grumbled, “some people learn too late.” And he walked away, his chest heavy with memories long past. “Other’s should be so lucky.”

She caught his hand, “Arthur, despite that lessons can be passed down to prevent more pain.” Her voice is soft, and that damned look she gives him— it’s not pity, he couldn’t stand it if it was but this is somehow worse— she has an air of understanding, an acceptance about her with him as if whatever he lays at her feet is perfectly fine.

“Maybe so.”

That hand retreats, she seems to be thinking as she chews her bottom lip looking at her feet for a moment.

“S-sorry I know I probably—“

“S’fine.” He assured her rubbing the back of his neck. “Just a hang up he and I have had.”

Lilith nodded, “my brother and I had something similar happen.”

“Oh?”

“Yes…but we managed to talk it out.” Arthur lets out a bark of harsh laughter.

“Me and him? Talk? Shoot, ya ain’t known us long but ya gonna see that’s a bit hard for us Van der Linde boys.”

“Oh that’s plain as day Mister Morgan. But as I said, everyone can learn.” A wink as she sauntered off.

“Damn woman.” He grumbles to himself striking a match on his boot to light up a smoke. He couldn’t make heads or tails of her as she checked in with Dutch and asked him several questions, Dutch did seem to be in a better mood, and she was always checking in with him— she said the word was deference. She acknowledged he was leader. But she herself led the two people she had.

Arthur had to admit the way she did things did scream leadership. It was rare to see such things. There wasn’t anything she herself wouldn’t do that she’d ask of others. Mucking a stall, hunting, ensuring people were clothed, mending, healing…Dutch hadn’t done that for a long time but he did get his hands dirty when needed.

It further solidified Arthur’s ideology that if women ran shit it might be a mite better, he glanced at Susan who was chatting with Hosea before she went off to screech at someone for not working hard enough.

Belladonna walked up to him and grinned, offering her hawk, “wanna pet’im, seems ta like ya.”

Arthur was never one to pass up petting an animal.

Shit he’d pet a bear if it wouldn’t rip his damn arm off.

“Sure, Aristotle was it?”

“Mmhm. He had many ideas of the stars that man. Mi’lady said it suited because this hawk could damn near fly to them with these wings.” She kissed the hawk who let out a little chirping sound as Arthur placed a warm finger against it’s chest feathers. The big raptor fluffed his feathers and crooned, leaning forward and nudging Arthur’s hand.

“Here, he likes meat.”

“Here boy.” Aristotle took the piece and gulped it down and flapped his wings before Bella let him go. “He just nests somewhere?”

“Oh aye, he has a mate somewhere, but I canna catch her, she is too fierce. But she hunts with him and has never left his side. They keep the same mates their whole life.” She smiled up at the sky and sure enough, a smaller hawk circled with him swooping and gliding. “Quite a sight.”

“Sure is.” Arthur grinned. “You all keep any other animals?”

“Oh aye, you should see the family wolves.”

Arthur paused as he walked by, “beg pardon?” He furrowed his brow.

“Milady found a pack of wolves who’s cubs were abandoned. She took them all in, they are the sweetest, deadly, but they are the comfiest things to snuggle with. Sometimes all four of them are with her.”

“And these are….ah…”

“No here. They in the wilds probably hunting, somewhere up north west in the Grizzlies. They look different, no from here. Timber wolves from the west. Darker coats. Then the wolf dogs…all except for Talla—they look like they wolf kin. She is almost a strawberry color but she’s half wolf and half some big dog from Alaska.”

“Been round a lot.”

“Aye, we been all over. The wolves are bout five or so now. Talla and her siblings are with her brothers, she breeds them.”

“Breeds wolves.”

“Just for the family.”

“Ah.” This family got weirder and weirder, “they guard? The wolves not the half breed ones.”

“No no, wolves are quite timid despite people thinking they fierce, unless the family is attacked, they no just go about attacking randomly, Talla and her siblings though, they were bred with a type’a dog that will protect their master anywhere, any time. Talla especially, her mate is a full wolf, but she is far fiercer than he.”

Arthur laughed, “you talk like they people.”

“You talk to yer horse like it’s people.”

She had him there. He kicked at the snow. “Never knew an animal to dislike it.”

Belladonna grinned, “you ken for a scary bastard, ye pretty nice.”

“Don’t know nuthin bout that.” Arthur snorted as he walked off.

Dinner was a lighter affair now that John was back, everyone celebrated with some whiskey and a meal of wolf steaks and deer meat. Arthur watched as everyone milled around, chatted, and tried to liven their spirits, the deaths of ones close still loomed— as did the damn frost.

Some spring this turned out to be.

He glanced at the three strangers who had dropped into their lives as he scribbled.

It is rather strange to be in the company of wolves.

I find that they are a gentle people unless provoked, despite their appearances, the females are far more aggressive then their male counterparts, as Belial seems to have a very playful nature, they all do in fact. Shoving at one another as they walk in the snow to push the other into a drift. Or leaping onto one another’s backs as they run off.

I have only seen wolves play once, when I came across a den by accident when the welping season came. Indulgent and confident in my spot I had used binoculars to watch a game of tag played by the pack. It is of similar air.

Hosea is doing alright, but I know the dark haired woman named Lilith is concerned, he is coughing a lot, and his breathing is labored, he stays indoors mostly under her direction, and she’s been shoving tonics into his mouth whenever he allows it. Seeming hell bent on keeping him alive.

John is alright, a pain in my backside still, but he’s lucky to be alive. … We all are.

Not sure what in hell happened on that boat, but whatever it was it weren’t good. Charles heard that a girl died. Dutch outright shot her…saying it needed to be done….

That ain’t like him…

The red head reminds me of Sean, I wonder where that Irish bastard got off to. Knowing him he’s probably found trouble. Davey…Jenny….Both gone in a matter of weeks….We lost folks before but not like this— so needlessly. They are calling it the Blackwater Massacre.

This family is strange, stranger still is the kindness they show everyone. It is gentle, despite their steel hard spines and unwavering eyes…unnerving eyes.

Eyes that gleam when they look at ya, like a beast’s catching firelight in the dark.

She looked at Micah as if he were nothing but an ant to be pitied for facing a mountain.

Wonder what that’s like….ain’t never said I was confident, I can fight with the best of em…

But I have a feeling this woman could give me a run for my money…

Half inclined to piss her off and find out…

[kashimalin-fanfiction]

Tests of Courage (Fenrir/Reader/Ray)

Summary: It’s a scary story night at the Black Army Headquarters, and you have somehow dragged Fenrir along with you.

Pairing: Fenrir Godspeed/Reader/Ray Blackwell

Count: 1,103 Words

Rating: General

Warnings: None.

Tagging: @littlelady-blackwell​, as this is her request! Thank you for requesting!

“And then the lady swung the bucket forward… watching in horror as streaks of white paint flew through the air and splattered before her eyes.” Ray pauses, a slow smile tugging at the corners of his lips as a cloud passes over the moon outside the window. “The shape of a human took form before her eyes, that of ghastly white figure reaching out for her throat—!”

“Waaah!! It’s gonna get her!” Fenrir screams directly into your ear, clinging tighter to your arm. “Ray, this story is the worst!”

“Fenrir!” You shove him back. “Be careful!”

“Be quiet!” Seth glares at him too, frowning. “Luka and I want to hear the rest of the story!”

“Oh, you do, because it gets better.” Ray glances at each of you before continuing, his voice dropping a pitch lower. “The lady knocks the invisible man aside as hard as she can, sprinting for the nearest door. She slams shut behind her, and the door lock clicks successfully. Scarcely a second later, she hears something slamming on the door. The banging continues for several minutes, getting louder and louder, threatening to nearly rip the door from its hinges.

“Then, all goes quiet. The lady cowers in fear. Waiting. Listening. Watching the door… when the lock suddenly turns on its own.”

The door to the lounge swings open. Fenrir shrieks, kicking out his legs and sending the two of you sprawling onto the floor. You immediately wrench yourself from his grip and sit up, blushing crimson when you hear everyone laughing.

Sirius stands in the open doorway, a plate of midnight snacks in his hands and his foot still stretched out from kicking the door open.  

“Did I walk in at a bad time?” he asks, kneeling on the floor and setting the snacks in the middle of the circle.

“It was the best time,” Luka says, a wide smile on his face.

“It was not the best time! Quit laughing!” Fenrir points accusingly at Ray. “Why does this Ghost Story Night gotta be a test of courage, anyway? This isn’t fair!”

“You decided to take him up on it when he promised you cuddles afterwards,” you remind him. “You didn’t have to agree to come.”

Fenrir squirmed, unable to keep his usual confident smile steady. “I just wanted to look a little cooler in front of you and prove to Ray that I could do it. But I didn’t think we’d be sharing this many stories!”

“You’re doing great, Fenrir.” Ray reaches out, running his fingers across Fenrir’s hand. “Just hold out for a little bit longer, okay? Now… where was I?”

You didn’t miss the way Fenrir’s fingers squeeze at Ray’s, smiling as he allows Fenrir to hold his hand for the remainder of the night. You make sure to keep one arm free for him, allowing him to cling tight and praising him when he makes it to the end of a story without too many screams.

“Thanks for staying up late to help me, Ray.” You glance at the clock, noticing how close it is to midnight. “Are you sure you should be staying up this late?”

“S’fine,” he murmurs, his eyelids drooping slightly as he stands at the sink. You nudge him slightly, taking a scrubbed plate from his wet hands. “Staying up was worth it.”

“I still think you were one of the best storytellers. You did great.” You smile wide. “I’d like to hear you read some more stories aloud. And not just horror! Maybe one of Cradle’s fairytales.”

“I’m a little miffed that I didn’t get to tell my best scary story, but maybe I should save that story for the next Ghost Story Night…”

He trails off as the crystal above the sink flickers. Your eyes narrow as you stare at it.

“I replaced that this morning,” you whisper as it flickers faster – and goes out. The kitchen plunges into darkness, the moon the only source of light in the room. “Why is it out of magic already?”

“Wait.” Ray turns off the water, and you shiver. The temperature in the kitchen has dropped several degrees, an unsettling chill easing into your bones. A few words from Sirius’s tale creep into the back of your mind, whispering:

“The lights flicker.”

“You feel a chill run down your spine.”

“Maybe there’s something behind you.”

“Maybe you should turn around.”

Slowly, you look over your shoulder – and see the ghost.

“Ray!” He immediately steps in front of you when you cry out. The ghost looms closer, hauntingly white and featureless. You scream again, the counter digging against your back. You cannot take another step back.

Then, Ray lifts the ghost up by the waist, holding it aloft. You gasp as you realize the true identity of the “ghost”, and Ray grins, tilting his head back.

“Hello, Fenrir.”

“Hey! Wait! How’d you know it was me under the sheet?” Fenrir’s voice is unmistakable, even when muffled by the sheet. “I’m completely hidden! You had no idea!”

“For one thing, I know what Fenrir's cologne smells like, and I don't think ghosts wear scents. Two, I've hugged you enough times that I know what you feel like when I hug you.”

Fenrir’s shoulders sag as Ray sets him down. “Oh.”

“You did scare me, though!” you say, marching up to him. “Where did you get this ridiculous idea from? And can you even see through that sheet?”

“I wanted to get back at you for telling those scary stories and making me come along!” Fenrir jabs absently, his finger hitting Ray’s shoulder. “So when I was complaining to Seth on the way back to our rooms, he suggested that I put on a sheet and scare you two while you were cleaning up. I wanted to hear you scream, even if I can’t see your faces too clearly.”

“Well, you got us,” Ray says, kissing Fenrir’s face through the sheet. “Promise. I think our girlfriend was definitely terrified, though.”

“Hey!” You nudge Ray aside, going to kiss Fenrir and feeling your nose bump against his. “But yes, you did scare us. More than any story tonight.”

“Really?

“Really.” You and Ray answer in unison as you go in for a few last kisses, pressing them to Fenrir’s cheeks.

Then you see Ray grin mischievously, winking in your direction. “Now, Fenrir… let’s get this sheet off. Don’t you know that if you pretend to be a ghost for too long, you’ll actually become one?”

“What? Hey!” Fenrir shakes his arms rapidly, the fabric rustling. “Then help me get this off! Quickly! Save me!!”

[eusjason]

                                                         ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ 𝓼𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓸𝔀,                                                              & 𝕛𝕠𝕪 ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵘʳᵉ ;

› 𝟎𝟎𝟏: 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵?

          in the northern reaches of canada, playful outdoor hockey on frozen lakes known as shinny is as sure of a past time as huddling up by the fireplace. never one to be bothered by the cold, jason spent most of the young childhood skating out on some lake or another, usually with friends or teammates until they eventually called it quits when the sun started to sink lower and the even colder night chill began to roll in. he should’ve left with them, really, his mother was going to worry as she always did — though never as much as the other mothers, not out of any less concern, but perhaps she knew that water would not harm jason. all the times he’d gotten picked out of the frigid saguenay fjord and didn’t get so much as a cold were probably a dead giveaway.

          so he’s alone when it happens, probably for the best : it means the mist doesn’t have to work overtime to alter the memories of his friends. winter is just starting to break into the warmer season of spring, the worst time of year if you ask jason. it just signals the end of outdoor hockey, soon to be moved to the confines of a temperature controlled rink. he’s stubborn, intent on getting every hour out of the frozen ice on the lake that he possibly can, even if that means avoiding certain spots of the lake. but he must miscalculate because he hears the telltale cracking of ice beneath his skates — and not the comforting deep cracking sounds that accompanies a freezing lake. this is the bad kind of cracking, the one that proceeds plunging into freezing water and possibly dying of hypothermia. tyler’s mother had showed them all a video of someone falling through thin ice when they were all old enough to want to skate on the lake, probably to shake fear and caution into them ( it’s worked, for the most part ). for the first time out on the lake, jason is terrified.

          it’s probably this terror that unlocks what will become his specialty in the years to come. he never plunges into the icy depths of the lake ( even though if he had, he would’ve remained dry and unaffected ), because he freezes the whole thing solid. he then passes out because of it, the volume of water he just changed something he won’t have the stamina to repeat for quite a while. his mother and the father of one of his friends find him on the lake much later, burning up from fever, his eleven year old body trying to cope with the excess energy it just absorbed.

          it’s a mystery what happened exactly, to everyone but his mother had known eventually the godly part of his blood would demand to manifest as more than an ease on ice or the way beluga whales always seemed to come to whatever boat he was on. it’s on a boat in the middle of the saint lawrence that she tells him the truth. jason takes it pretty well, for someone just told his father is the lord of the sea. if anything, he knows it to be true the moment his mother tells him, the final piece of a puzzle falling into place.

          not long after his twelfth birthday that summer, instead of staying in saguenay, he’s shipped off to camp voreios even further north in canada.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟐: 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘥?

          leila goldhirsch never had any doubts of the child she carried for nine months and then loved from the moment he was born. she always knew it was a bit of inevitability that his godly side would present itself, much like the ocean never deigns to be ignored. there was always more to that man she had a brief but momentous relationship with, more than just the kinda captain of the ship she used for that whole summer studying beluga whales in the saint lawrence. she didn’t know whether or not to believe him when he said he was the lord of the sea, but like the ocean, the truth is undeniable. and so she did her best to raise jason normally, worried like any good mother though his father had promised to keep him safe.

          ( he still doesn’t know this — but one of those fisherman who picked him out of the fjord had been him ).

          — and she worried after the attack, wanting to protect her son but having no way of protecting him from the monsters that were inside his head. she’ll always worry, probably, though she’s happy that he seems to have found himself again at eonia.

          jason’s stepfather is a whole other story, just for the simple fact that he doesn’t know about poseidon, still believing jason’s biological father was simply the boat captain of a ship many, many years ago. jason and his mother never figured out a way to too tell him and well... it feels a little too late for that now.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟑: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵?

          he’s just arrived at camp voreios, age twelve and fitting in even more easily than most despite his young age — sparking the rumor that he must be a son of hermes. he’d been aware of his godly parentage even for a few months now in an unofficial sense, though still officially “unclaimed,” not that it made a whole lot of difference at camp voreios who roomed attendees by age instead of godly parentage. he remains quiet to the fact though, appreciating the suspense of it all even at a young age.

          it’s a few days later after the first campwide game that things get official. jason’s fresh off scoring a game-winning goal when the glowing sea-green trident appears over his head effectively hushing the previously rowdy arena.

          camp voreios had never had a child of poseidon before : he was the first.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟒: 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱?

          camp voreios, the northern camp ( grammatically i think it should actually be voreios camp but to stick with pjo naming conventions... ), sits in some of the most remote reaches of quebec, far by pretty much all terms, and it is here that some of the most elite demigods are trained. obscured from mortal eyes as a longterm and extremely competitive program for only the most elite youth hockey players, there’s a bit of truth to that. most who attend that camp are between the ages of twelve and eighteen, the graduates commonly accepted into colleges with impressive hockey programs and a very select few like jason into the canadian hockey league. though almost all in attendance could easily fit in talentwise in the chl, most opt to not go through the additional testing and training into order to determine if they’re fit to go the professional route. their “recruitment” is a smattering of satyr scouts and coaches who scour youth hockey programs for demigods.

          the camp sits on the edge of a lake, something jason found incredibly satisfying and it was on this lake this he truly honed his abilities of phase manipulation of water and water sensitivity. he did dabble in the other aspects of hydrokinesis ( specifically, the manipulation of actual water ) at least enough to be respectable at it, but he found it more dull and less useful, preferring to explore control of water in its ice state. you’d never see him try to create a tsunami wave or something.

          a hockey centric demigod camp was as exciting as it came. though they would play against mortal teams to learn to exercise control over their abilities in the heat of a game ( and as a result, learn to control themselves in high emotion situations ), there were plenty of demigod hockey games that were almost a free for all. the only thing they didn’t allow jason to do was manipulate the actual ice of the rink, citing that was a bit of an unfair advantage even for them. camp voreios was also the home to the art of swordplay on ice, more for pure fun than any true necessity — though it was argued that the heightened speed of a fight on ice was good for developing reflexes and training the mind to analyze an opponent more quickly. there’s probably some truth to that.

          camp voreios, unlike many demigod camps, was not a summer camp. instead it ran around the hockey season, meaning it took students for the duration of the school year and released them to do as they pleased in the summer though many stayed the duration. occupants are schooled with a mixture of online and at local schools. jason was in attendance at camp voreios from ages twelve to sixteen almost year round, save for the month of july when he returned home to saguenay. the intent of camp voreios was to rigorously train their attendees for the real world — practically the epitome of tough love.

          at sixteen, jason knew he wanted to try to peruse hockey professionally if he could, the fourth of camp voreios attendees who expressed this intention. the camp only allowed the most elite on the ice and more apt at protecting themselves to enter professional leagues where there was a much higher profile and higher risk. jason passed their aptitude tests and so at sixteen, he was drafted to the rouyn-noranda huskies and left camp voreios, though he’d return in the summer occasionally as well as encounter and maybe help a little bit some on their yearly scavenger hunt.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟓: 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴?

          camp voreios didn’t get sent on an awful lot of quests compared to much bigger camps, though the directors of the camp often sent campers out on their own in an unofficial capacity in order to gain “real world experience” tussling with real monsters and getting a taste of real danger — call it that tough love. most common was a massive scavenger hunt that took up nearly three weeks every spring after hockey season ended where the entire camp was split into groups of two or three and sent out across north america to retrieve increasingly rare items.

          however, jason was sent on one official god-sanctioned quest at the tender age of thirteen. he’d been at camp for about a year and a half at that point and participated in one scavenger hunt and thus deemed ready. gotta start them young, right ?? besides, it was a quest for one of the missing prongs on the trident of poseidon, and as the only child of poseidon at camp voreios who else was supposed to go ?? he was dispatched with a daughter of aphrodite ( 15 ) and son of hermes ( 16 ), though jason’s leadership skills soon became evident even as young as he was. the quest took them two weeks to complete, and took them everywhere from the stiffling grand canyon ( not jason’s favorite place ) to niagara falls ( marginally better ), culminating with them on the coast of nova scotia, the first time jason had seen the real ocean. he’ll claim he jumped, witnesses claim he fell, but either way, he ended up deep in the atlantic ocean where he finally met his godly father for the first time.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟔: 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵?

          jason met poseidon when he was thirteen and he was nothing like he expected. he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but much like the sea he supposes it depends. poseidon has never felt different than the sea on a calm day. he’d say his relationship with him is more the positive side of neutral then negative, despite the fact they’ve only spoken face to face a handful of times. 

          jason never was someone who needed words to know he was cared for and he recognizes the ways poseidon cares for him as his son in ways other than words : in the safe passages he grants him every fall and spring as he sails over the atlantic, the way he feels at home in the ocean, and the way he’d been soothed and in some ways healed by the ocean after the attack. he just takes their contact it as it is, seeing no reason to wish for things to be different than they are.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟕: 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘥?

          the day jason learned about his water sensitivity was one of the best in his life. though it’s hardly as flashy as his hydrokinesis, the additional perspective is one his cherishes quite closely. there’s something to be said for feeling like you connect to the world, even in the oddest of ways. he can’t deny he loves freezing water though — there’s nothing like skating under and open sky and with a bit of work, his hydrokinesis ability made that possible.

          there is, of course, his prowess on the ice, though he’s not sure if he wants to contribute that to being a demigod. he’d like to believe that even without godly blood in his veins that he still would’ve been good enough to be drafted into the chl. 

› 𝟎𝟎𝟖: 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘥?

          power comes with a cost, and sometimes jason thinks that price is too high. as much as he knows he can’t wring the godly blood out of him, there are days he wishes he could is only to save what he’d been building in rouyn-noranda. evan had been young, beautiful, talented, and very much mortal. there’s no reason he or any of the others of his team should have had to die because a pack of monsters were intent on slaying the son of poseidon. it’s an endless battle in jason’s head between what he knows to be true and the endless guilt he still feels constricted around his heart. because what’s the point of having power if it still wasn’t enough to protect the people he cared about ??

› 𝟎𝟎𝟗: 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘺?

          it’s rare to see jason without osisko, his celestial bronze sword that also takes the convenient forms of a hockey stick or a bronze bracelet on his left wrist. it was a gift to him when he was drafted into the chl at sixteen ( visuals and more detailed information on osisko HERE ). it is without a doubt his main weapon, and the one he’s most trained at, though if he had to he could fight with a trident pretty well ( thanks dad ). given osisko’s ability to return to him even if lost in battle, he rarely has to default to other weapons, though at even closer hand-to-hand combat with daggers or knives, he’s proficient as well since the concept is quite similar. where he severely lacks is in any long range weapons like archery or spears — sadly his accuracy with a puck does not seem to translate to arrows or anything of the type.

          jason isn’t absolute top tier elite at swordplay, though he holds his own quite respectively and probably comes in the top ten percent, aided in part by his sheer athleticism due to the strong, active life he’s lived since he was quite young, training both to be a demigod and a good hockey player. factor in his hydrokinesis when available, and you can probably get him to the top five percent. he can get quite competitive in matchups, which also informs his ability to hold his own out of sheer will. there’s also something to be said that he attended a demigod camp practically year round for four years, allowing him a much longer length of training in his formative years than just the typical three month summer camp.

          he has extremely good endurance ( endurance and like... endurance 😉, y’know ?? alsdkfjlsks ) and often fights smarter, not harder, using his opponent’s weaknesses and the environment to his advantage. as a defenseman, he’s quick to analyze offensive players of the fastest paced sport in the world to hinder their plan by the time they get to the blueline   — this ability transfers beautifully to battle proficiency and fights. he has to work quite hard to get as good as he has, the observing part he was always quite good at, it was getting his fighting ability up to the level where he could actually do something to hinder the offense he knew was coming. he obviously most easily gains the upper hand when on the beach, a boat, or if someone foolishly decides they do want to face him in one of camp voreios’ created past times : swordplay on ice.

[deansmyapplepie]

Going Under

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Tags: hurt!reader, near-death experience, worried!Sam, protective!Sam, drowning, hypothermia

Word Count: 2,030

(Gif not mine)

"Eugh." You crinkled your nose in disgust as the vampire's head fell to the ground with a plop. Its blood stained the pure white snow a sickening red as it rolled away from you. Well, at least that was the last of the nest. It would be a lie if you said you hadn't been worried about this hunt. You had been. It wasn't that you thought that you and the Winchesters couldn't handle it - the opposite, actually. Between the three of you, you were a force of nature. Together, you had saved the world several times before. But that didn't make regular "milk run" hunts, as Dean would call them, any less dangerous. Especially with weather conditions like these. The snow was coming down so heavily, you could barely see ten feet in front of you, which was a problem. Still, the monsters never rest, and that meant you couldn't either. You had managed to take out four of them without so much as a scratch. Now you just had to hope that the boys had gotten just as lucky.

You unclipped the walkie talkie from the waist of your jeans, and raised the device to your mouth, pressing your finger down on the button.

"This is Amidala, I just finished up my last vamp. Skywalker and Solo, do you copy?"

"Skywalker, reading you loud and clear," Sam came in after a brief pause. He sounded out of breath, which meant he had to have finished mere seconds after you.

"Star Wars, Y/N?" Dean's voice came through with a crackle of static. "Really?" You grinned as you flicked the remaining blood droplets from your blade into the snow. "Listen, the radios were a great idea. I like 'em. I do. But next time, I’m picking the code names." Before you could get out a snarky remark, Sam chimed in.

"Dude, you're one to talk," he pointed out. "'Agents Ford and Hamill from the U.S. Wildlife Service?' Come on." For a moment, only silence ensued, and you chuckled softly. You could practically see Dean grinding his teeth together from wherever he was.

"For the love of God," you complained into the receiver. "Would you two quit bitching so we can get home already? It's fuckin' cold!"

"Come on, princess," Dean teased, "can't you handle a few vamps? I know you're a little rusty, but still." You grumbled to yourself, flaring your nostrils involuntarily. If there was anyone who knew how to push your buttons, it was Dean fucking Winchester.

"Vampires? No problem. Rusty? Hell no," you replied. "It's all this damn snow I don't like."

"Yeah, I'm with Y/N on this one," Sam put in. "I can barely see my own feet." You grinned. Cue the relentless teasing from Dean. 

"Sammy, you'd be with Y/N if she told you that she thought sticking your hand into an open flame was a good idea." And there it was. Dean wasn't wrong, really. It was no secret that there was definitely something going on between you and the younger Winchester. The problem was, neither of you knew what that "something" was. Putting your heads together to figure it out probably wasn't the worst idea in the world. A beep came from your radio as Dean continued. "I just wish you two would get on with it already, so-" Your eyes widened, and you jammed your finger down on the button, effectively interrupting his signal. After a few seconds, you released your grip.

"You done?" You asked, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"Yeah, I'm done," Dean answered, sounding more than a little amused. Damn him.

"Good," you said shortly. "Then let's get the hell out of here before one of you gets hypothermia."

"Y/N, with how much you made us layer up, I don't think that's possible," Sam retorted. Again, you rolled your eyes. Before the three of you left the bunker earlier, the boys had been complaining about how many extra layers of clothing you made them put on. You weren't sure if it was a masculinity thing, but you didn't care. Even Winchesters could freeze.

"So I care about both of you. Sue me. But you never know," you cautioned. "If all this snow is covering a pond or something, and you don't see it, all it takes is one wrong step to-" With a loud crack, the hidden ice under your boot gave way, and you were plunged into the dark, frigid waters, the radio sinking down into the depths. The water seeped through your thick layers in seconds, and icy knives stabbed into your skin, bringing flashes of pain all over your body. As cold shock set in, you had to force yourself not to gasp in a lungful of water. You had to get your head above the surface and get out. 

Years ago, you read an article about a girl in Minnesota who had drowned in a frozen lake. At the bottom of the page, there had been instructions on what to do if you ever found yourself in a similar situation. Focus your energy on getting out immediately. Staying in the water can shorten your survival time by 50%. You kicked your legs furiously, muscles screaming in protest. You were on your own. Even if you hadn't dropped the walkie talkie, the device wasn't water-proof. When your head breached the surface, you took in a huge gasp of air, spluttering as you reached blindly for something to latch onto. Mercifully, your hand brushed against something solid, and you held on for dear life, attempting to pull yourself up with your elbows. Through the pounding of your heart beating in your ears, you heard your name carried over the wind.

"Y/N!" Dean. Thank God.

"Dean!" you screamed as loud as your wheezing lungs would allow.

"Sammy, she's over here!" you heard him bellow. The snow was coming down harder now, getting into your eyes, and making it increasingly difficult to see. "Y/N!"

"Dean!" you called out again. What kind of fucked up Marco-Polo game was this? With the upper half of your body out of the water, you had bought yourself a little more time. Now, you just needed to pull yourself out. Using the adrenaline to your advantage, you worked up a few more forceful kicks, trying to bring yourself to a horizontal position. As you prepared to hoist yourself up, the piece of ice that had been your refuge broke, and you were plunged into the water once again. Panic rose up in the back of your throat as your legs failed to cooperate. Swim failure. A whole lot of help that article was now. Here you were, mere feet from safety, and you couldn't save yourself. Then, a hand broke through the surface of the water, well within your grasp. You reached up, taking the hand desperately, and the warm fingers closed around your own, pulling you up. The first time you went under, you hadn't gotten any water in your lungs. The second time, you hadn't been so lucky. You coughed violently as your body purged itself. When you were finished, you were left with a pair of aching lungs, a spinning head, and a shivering body.

"We need to get her to the car now," Dean said, his voice more serious than you had ever heard him. Your rescuer lifted you into his arms, and you looked up to meet Sam's concerned eyes. 

"You're okay," he reassured as he tightened his grip on you. "We're gonna get you warmed up."

The journey back to the Impala was a quick one, thankfully, and the first thing Dean did was blast the heat. As he tore down the road, Sam sat in the back of the car with you, helping your frozen limbs out of the wet clothes.

"We've gotta get these off of you," he stated as he unzipped your thick coat. You nodded, teeth chattering as you tried your best to undress. It seemed counterintuitive, but you knew that staying in these clothes would stop your body from getting warm again.

"I-I'm still sh-shivering," you pointed out. "That's a g-good sign." Sam nodded, forcing a smile as he tried to hide the worried expression on his face.

"You're doin' great, sweetheart," Dean said from the driver's seat as he pressed his foot down harder on the gas. Sam unzipped your hoodie while you kicked off your boots and wet socks.

"I t-tried to get m-myself out," you explained with great difficulty.

"I know. I know." Sam's hands hovered over the button of your jeans, eyes asking you for permission. You nodded quickly, smiling to yourself. Even in a situation like this, he was ever the gentleman. As he fumbled with the pants, you stripped yourself of the still-dripping hoodie, revealing a long-sleeved shirt underneath.

"Jeez, Y/N, how many layers are you wearing?" Dean asked.

"I w-wanted to s-stay warm." You shook your head. "D-didn't work." The older Winchester snorted.

"I'll say. Sammy, I threw some blankets back there before we headed out."

"Yeah, I see them." He reached for the bundle of fabric as you pulled off the wet shirt, leaving you only in your bra and panties. "Dean, don't look back here, okay?" Sam said.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Sam bobbed his head toward your bra, making an effort not to look.

"Y/N, we have to-" You nodded.

"I know. F-fingers won't work," you stated. "Help me?"

"Yeah, Y/N, of course." Giving another small nod, you turned so Sam could access the clasps of your bra. When the tension in the piece of clothing released, he wrapped a blanket around your shivering body, careful not to reveal anything. You reached down and kicked off your panties, now completely naked. Without any hesitation, Sa took off his shirt and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Again, you nodded your permission. Mindful of the fact that Dean was still in the front seat, you opened your blanket shawl, allowing Sam in, who immediately took you into his warm arms. You shivered against him as warmth began to flood through your frozen skin.

"How's she doin'?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes on the road. "Still a Y/N popsicle?" You laughed, relieved that some of the tension from the situation had finally diffused.

"I th-think I'll l-live."

"Thankfully," Sam put in.

A little while later, your skin was still cold to the touch, but the shivering had lessened to a minimum, and your heart rate and breathing were back to normal.

"You know," you started, "this is not how I pictured you seeing me naked for the first time." Sam's eyebrows shot up into his hairline, and Dean cleared his throat from the front seat.

"All right," he said awkwardly, "we're almost back."

"You mean, you've..." Sam swallowed thickly. "You've pictured me seeing you... naked?" You grinned up at him slyly.

"Okay," Dean cut in again, "still, uh, still here, you two." You chuckled.

"Dean, weren't you the one complaining that you wanted us to 'get on with it already?'"

"Okay, seriously, we're almost there, so can't you wait just, like, five minutes? You don't have to..." Dean trailed off, waving his hand through the air vaguely. You caught Sam's eye, who looked just as amused as you did. As he looked at you, the amusement faded from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.

"I thought we lost you today," he said. "I... I thought I lost you." You squeezed him gently in response.

"You didn't," you replied. "Thanks to you." You cast your glance at Dean. "Thanks to both of you."

"Don't worry about it, Y/N," Dean dismissed. "We're just glad you're okay." The car sunk into a melancholy silence as the seriousness of today's events washed over you. You could have died today. Hell, you almost did die. It was a scary thing to think about. If Sam hadn't pulled you out... You forced yourself from your thoughts. You didn't want to think about the if. Glancing at Dean in the rearview mirror, you grinned wickedly.

"So, about the whole naked thing," you started.

"Three minutes!" Dean yelled loudly. "Just... shut up for three more minutes!"

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[shirtlesssammy]

3x16: No Rest for the Wicked

The Road So Far:

I want to write some flip comment that Dean’s going to hell, y’all, but man, this shit still messes with me.

Now:

Dean’s running for his fucking life through a forest, until he runs into invisible hell hounds. I’m guessing it was here that Jensen put his foot down about the Samulet --that thing had to be bouncing everywhere. Dean starts running in the opposite direction until they catch up with him --and he wakes up. 

Ok, I know that hell hounds are scary and all, but the open flames while sleeping? NOPE. Sam finds him and tells him that Bobby’s found a way to find Lilith. Dean’s sweaty and not as relieved as he should be --he’s got 30 hours until go time. Sam tries reassuring his brother that it’s all going to be okay --but Dean’s already starting to see the warped faces that the woman from the last episode saw. 

Pre-TFW perform a locating spell.

Dean is hesitant to head to Indiana, where the spell pinged Lilith. Sam wants to summon Ruby to help with the plan. “She is the Miss Universe of lying skanks.” Tell us what you really think, Dean. Dean insists they find another way. 

Sam does the summoning spell all on his own. 

Ruby arrives and admits that she knew that Lilith held Dean’s contract. Sam and Dean were not ready to know that. Sam demands her knife. She starts circling him and tells him that the knife doesn’t matter. He’s got not-God (*cough cough*) given talent that could defeat Lilith. Man, Ruby plays to all of Sam’s weaknesses. 

Dean pops in, throws out some insults, and demands the knife. We’ve been over this boys, the knife don’t matter. Sam wants to listen to Ruby, Dean doesn’t care. Ruby simply tells them that she wants Lilith dead. Yes, yes, you do. That is the truth. Very, very true. Dean’s gotta get to Hell and break that first seal first though, amirite?  

Fisticuffs ensue. 

It looks like the puny humans don’t stand a chance against the demon, but it was all a ploy to get the knife. THE KNIFE. Also, they trapped Ruby. Smart Dean is smart. 

Packing their gear, Sam starts having doubts. The co-dependency is strong with this episode, guys. Sam wants to save Dean. Dean wants to save Sam. Dean’s Theme starts playing and Dean admits that they’ll do anything for each other --and the bad guys know it. (Chuck knows it.) Dean wants to attack Lilth their way (yaaas --play your game, not hers). Sam admits that Dean should have been “jamming ‘Eye of the Tiger’” during that speech. Dean isn’t amused, but admits that he rehearsed the speech. Bby. Bby boy. 

New Harmony, Indiana

In a nice little gated community, two nice old men exchange pleasantries at their shared mailboxes. One grandfather slips the other man a note before heading back inside his home. It reads, “Help us.”

Once inside, the grandfather steps over a very dead body (his wife?!? MY GOD.) and finds his daughter/son in-law in the kitchen. They’re afraid of their Lilith possessed child/grandchild. The granddaughter shows up in the kitchen soaked in blood. It turns out that Freckles was mean to her. The family is horrified. Her mother tries to act normally. The dad asks the little girl if she’ll let them go. She gets suspicious and the tension grows. She’s good though, silly!

Sam and Dean try taking off but the Impala won’t start. Bobby shows up with a necessary part and is upset that they were trying to ditch him. 

*Iconic Words Alert*

Bobby utters, “Family don’t end with blood, boy.”

Bobby also knows about Dean’s hallucinations. They need his help. 

Later, Sam pushes for deep confessional mode in the car, only for Dean to spurn his attempts to get him to open up. No chick flick moments! Dean turns the music up. “Bon Jovi rocks…on occasion.” He sings “Dead or Alive”, and friends, I am DEAD.

They get pulled over by a cop who calls them out on the Impala’s busted taillight. Dean glances at the cop and then immediately kills him with Ruby’s knife. It turns out the cop was possessed - and Dean could see the demon’s real face. All it took was one look. Bobby tells them that Dean’s almost hell’s bitch so he can see hell’s other bitches. ELOQUENTLY put, Bobby. They realize that demons must be stationed all over town. 

Back with little homicidal Lilith, the family sits down before a feast worthy of Sully’s Imaginary Best Friends Club. 

The little girl asks grandpa why he asked the neighbor for help. He protests, but she’s clearly onto his plan. Her parents deny knowing anything about it and you can see doom scrawled over grandpa’s face. Lilith accuses him of not loving her anymore and snaps his neck right there at the table. The parents serve cake for dinner, utterly terrified. 

Outside, Dean can see that Lilith’s in the little girl. He sees her true face. Dean points out two other demons on patrol: the mailman sorting mail outside at night, and the neighbor that grandpa went to for help. (Wherps.)

Dean is low key horrified at the idea of killing a little girl to kill Lilith, but Sam and Bobby are ready to do whatever it takes. 

The Winchesters and Bobby kill the mailman and neighbor, then Ruby shows up. Dean does a double take at Ruby’s face, grossed out by her demonic visage. Them’s fightin’ words, Dean! Well, they could fight over it...except they’ve got bigger problems. An army of demons appears from all the neighboring houses, chasing them to Lilith’s door. Bobby peels off and we spy him with a bucket and a rosary. Soon after, the sprinklers turn on…it’s raining holy water! Hallelujah it’s raining HOLY WATER. Bobby, you smart son of a bitch. 

They stalk through the house, surprising the dad. Dean knocks him out and stores him safely in the basement behind a line of salt. They creep upstairs to the kid’s bedroom where Lilith and the mom are curled up in bed. The mom whisper-pleads for Sam to kill her daughter but Sam hesitates. He’s just about to bring down the knife when Dean stops him. Lilith has left the little girl! Hooray! Let’s all NOT stew on this extremely traumatized family unit and how this world MEGA needs therapists training in monster lore. Anyway. Bad news: if Lilith is no longer in the girl, then she’s possessing someone else now. 

Sam begs Ruby for help - he’ll do whatever she tells him to if it means he can save his brother. (Holy foreshadowing for Season 4, Batman!) Dean shouts him down. No stupid mistakes, Sammy! 

The clock strikes midnight dramatically. (Good thing this family has a big ol’ dramatic grandfather clock, to help us keep track of demon deals.) A hound growls from inside the house and everyone races for a room with a door that closes. Dean spreads goofer dust frantically along the window and doors of the office. Ruby demands the knife so she can try and keep the hellhound at bay and buy Dean some time. Dean takes a hard look at Ruby and realizes…it’s not her! He sees a different demon face now. It’s LILITH. 

Lilith pins Dean to the desk while she kisses Sam. NOT COOL, demons! What’s with demons and all the kissing? Smh. Dean tries to ask her about her plan and Lilith smirks in response. She opens the door to the office. 

The hellhound races in and tears into Dean while Sam’s pinned to the wall. Dean is pulled to the floor and torn apart while Sam watches. I think the worst part is definitely how Dean starts out screaming and then can’t even scream at the very end. SHUDDER.

shudder

After Dean dies, Lilith triumphantly raises a hand to smite Sam.

She can’t kill Sam, which is a huge surprise to both of them. Sam hauls out Ruby’s knife, only for Lilith to smoke out. He’s left alone with two bodies on the floor. He picks up Dean’s lifeless body and weeps.

The camera moves in, plunging us into Dean’s mind and through...to the other side.

We descend into another world, down to Hell. It’s dark and full of lightning, an endless spider’s web of chains and misery. Dean’s strung up by meathooks jammed into his skin. He screams for Sam, and his screams carry us into the black of the season break.

Holy Quotehounds, Batman!

Either we go in smart or we don’t go in at all

She is the Miss Universe of lying skanks

Um... demon. Manipulative's kinda in the job description

She probably wants you to become her little antichrist Super Star

Do I look like a ditchable prom-date to you?

I think you totally should have been jamming "Eye of the Tiger" right there

If this is my last day on earth, I do not want it to be socially awkward

Family don't end with blood, boy

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[saiilorstars]

The Beginning of Everything

Ch. 26:  The Cosmic Butterfly

// Story Masterlist // 

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Chapter summary: The truth behind the Cosmic Butterfly comes to light and reveals that it's not the only creature created!

Since everyone was set to go find the Doctor, Rose thought it was high time she did the same. She closed the laptop and got up from her chair. She made a quick call to someone on her phone then turned to Donna and her family. "Right! I'm gonna find him."

"No, we're going to find them," Donna corrected her. "I'm coming with!"

"Donna…" Rose began to shake her head but Donna grabbed onto her arm.

"I'm coming with, blondie! Those are my friends out there too!"

"Donna, you can't go out there," Sylvia got up from the couch, along with Wilf.

"I have to, Mum!"

"You go, sweetheart," Wilf told Donna, just like before when she was leaving after the Sontarans. "You go and find them."

Donna smiled softly at her grandfather. She directed her eyes to Rose, leaving no room for further discussion on the matter. The two then disappeared in a flash of blue light.

~ 0 ~

Gabby whimpered when the TARDIS finally stopped. There would definitely be bruises around her body later on, if there even would be a 'later on'. With a groan, she used her elbows to sit up. "I'm getting really tired of landing like this."

Renata was the only one who had maintained her balance because she'd been the pilot this time. She sent an apologetic look at Gabby and the Doctor. "Sorry, I-I couldn't help myself. That was...that was Davros!"

"He's supposed to be dead…" the Doctor slowly pulled himself up to his feet, still shaken from seeing Davros again.

"I can't believe you actually tried saving him back in the war!?" Renata was still incredulous about the revelation. He actually went and tried saving Davros, of all people! She was naturally furious. "He should've died instead of everyone else! You shouldn't have ever tried to save him! That's stupid, even for you!"

The Doctor kept quiet on that bit. She had every right to be angry about that part but he was well aware that even now, seeing everything that had happened, he still didn't regret it.

Renata saw that clearly. She was not surprised. It was just so him. He was always the better one between them. "We're on Earth now, so let's just save it before Davros ruins it. Gabriella?"

"I'm up! I'm up!" the girl assured. "But please, someone, learn how to drive this box a little better!"

"C'mon!" Renata made the gesture for them to follow her, but the Doctor yanked her back by the sleeve of her blouse.

"What happened to 'check the environment'?" He threw her a look. She always reminded him of that, not that he listened to it but that was beside the point. 

"Well, we're on Earth--" she pulled her arm out of his hold, "--and the Daleks have already invaded so safety is pretty much nonexistent. Now c'mon! We've got to find the others."

The trio emerged from the blue box into a solitary street. Gabby felt chills the way the street was upturned. There were cars parked haphazardly on the road, some actually overturned. Scattered rubbish filled their immediate area, but the worst part of it was the silence.

"Absolute silence," Renata whispered. She folded her arms tightly, feeling an unwavering breeze. She hated silence...it was like death.

"Sarah Jane said that they were taking the people. But what for?" The Doctor wished he could just skip the whole 'trying to figure things out' and go straight for the solution because if this is what one street looked like, he didn't want to see what the city was like right now.

"Daleks taking humans?" Renata moved around him, her hands rising as she explained what she thought was so obvious. "It's to hurt them, to kill them. Daleks don't just meddle with humans for fun. They want to kill them."

"Yes but what for?" The Doctor turned to face her. "The Daleks don't just pull planets and submerge them into darkness!"

"They're Daleks!" She exclaimed in his face. "They don't need a reason. We just need to stop them."

Neither of them noticed Gabby's terrified expression due to their thoughts. It was all so normal to them…

The Doctor could concede on Renata's point. "Well, it would be a lot easier if we had everyone with us."

Renata had lifted her shoulders to shrug when she caught something over his shoulder. She shuddered in a breath so faintly that no one caught it. "I think you've overlooked one good thing that came out of this, Doctor," her voice was unexpectedly soft that for a moment, the Doctor wondered if her health was taking a plunge again.

"Yeah, and what would that be?"

An honest, albeit small, smile came to Renata's face. "You'd get the chance to see an old friend." She raised a shaky finger to point at someone behind him.

The Doctor didn't comprehend what she meant but when he turned around to see what she was pointing at, he forgot all about it. It was Rose. Rose Tyler. She stood at the end of the street wearing the biggest smile anyone could ever have. Rose.

Donna had a good sense to move away from Rose and settle her gaze on the Time Lady pulling herself to the TARDIS instead. Donna couldn't even begin to understand how Renata must be feeling. She didn't appear mad, or even jealous, just really sad…

Rose took off, leaving a strong trail of wind behind her. Donna's hair even flipped over her shoulders! But Rose didn't care - she had the Doctor just feet away from her. The Doctor took off in the same force.

"I don't understand who's that," Gabby inched closer to Renata. She noticed the expression on Renata's face and wondered why the Time Lady was so sad.

Renata was about to shake her head and simply go back into the TARDIS, hoping that maybe being on Earth would allow them to search better, when she spotted something rolling in the street adjacent to theirs. Her blood went cold.

"Exterminate!"

"NOOO!" Renata screamed when the Dalek fired and shot the Doctor.

Rose skidded to a forced stop when the blinding blue light passed in front of her. By the time she opened her eyes, the Doctor was already on the ground. She dropped to his side and cradled his head while he convulsed in pain.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Renata's voice, though still a scream, cracked in the end with her emotions. She ran towards the Dalek, ignoring Gabby's and Donna's collective yells for her to stop. Renata couldn't hear anything but a ringing in her ears and a rush of adrenaline under her skin.

Jack appeared only a few feet from Rose and the Doctor and, taking in the situation, he prepared to fire with his own huge gun...only to see Renata halfway there. "Renata, what are you doing!?"

"Exterminate!" went the Dalek again, shooting straight for the Time Lady.

Renata's face was ferocious and perhaps the new unlocked feeling was what brought out the energy that'd been swirling inside her, bubbling like a soup that wasn't quite ready. It exploded around into a radiating light - more powerful and blinding than the Dalek's laser - and blasted the Dalek into pieces.

"Ren!" Gabby called in terrible fear. When the golden energy died, it left Renata wobbly and in a few seconds she fell to her knees. Gabby ran for her, but Donna and Jack got to Renata first.

Renata's face was pale and her cheeks seemed a bit hollow. "I-I don't know...I don't know where that came from...I dooooon…" her words slurred together until she couldn't form a proper word anymore.

"C'mon, up you go!" Jack pulled her up to her feet but had to do most of the supporting. "Don't tell me you're going to regenerate too…"

"Regen...regenerate!" Renata sniffed in and looked both ways before finding the Doctor on the ground. "N-no! Get...get hiiii...him!" She tried pushing Jack away but her arms actually felt like noodles. She'd heard Gabby use the expression once on herself after being unable to play volleyball at a space beach they visited. Noodle arms, how Renata had laughed at that.

Now she fully understood.

"Don't die. Oh my God, please don't die," Rose was teary-eyed and didn't really know what else to do except hold the Doctor.

"We need to get him to the TARDIS!" Jack called. "Now!"

Donna knew where she could better put her efforts into. She rushed to help Rose pick the Doctor up to his feet. "C'mon, spaceman, we gotta go."

"Renée" the Doctor hadn't seen much but he knew that Renata had expelled a lot of the energy they'd been watching. It was exactly what he'd been afraid of, that one day she would do something her body wasn't ready for and would pay the price with her life.

The group got back into the TARDIS and while Gabby and Jack tried to bring Renata to the Captain's chair, Renata shook her head and clung to the console instead. Her legs were buckling though and she kept breathing in as if she was holding her breath.

"Renata, are you going to regenerate?" Jack had to be straightforwards and ask her so that she wasn't so close to the Doctor who would definitely be doing the thing.

"N-noooo…" Renata lost breath in that one word. She swallowed hard and took in another deep breath. "Jusssst….just too...lots of ener…" For now, her body was just growing tired.

"Lots of energy, got it," Jack backtracked from her cautiously, though pointed Gabby to keep an eye on her. "Doc! How we doing!?"

The Doctor's answer came in a groan. He was laying on the floor, convulsing and feeling more layers of pain. He knew what was coming, but he didn't want it. He really didn't want it.

"Got it. Rose, get back!"

Rose wouldn't budge. She shook her head - how could she leave him again?

"Rose!" Jack's voice hardened with urgency. "You know what happens next! We can't be near him! Donna?"

Donna looked between Jack and Renata, the latter already teary-eyed but stuck in her spot. She sighed and looked down at the Doctor. "You got this, spaceman. Good luck." She offered him her best, encouraging smile then scrambled up to her feet to join Renata and Gabby.

"ROSE!"

Rose sniffed and briefly glanced at the frantic Jack. "But he can't... not now, I came all this way…"

The Doctor turned halfway to the side and raised his hand. It was beginning to glow orange. "It's starting…" The orange light spread to his body in a few seconds.

"Doctor, I'm so...sor...sorry," Renata tried to get close to him by using the console as a support but nearly slipped on one occasion. Despite his pain, he still found a moment to shoot her a soft smile, as if telling her that things would be okay.

She couldn't return the favor. All she knew was that he was about to die and they had resolved nothing. And what was worst, she couldn't even be near him.

"Okay, Rose, dammit!" Jack had enough and went ahead to grab Rose himself and pry her away from the Doctor. "Here we go! Good luck, Doctor!"

"Ren, c'mon," Gabby gently pulled Renata farther from the Doctor as well. Donna came to their side and keep Renata steady.

The Doctor managed to pull himself up on his own but had to use the console as support for a moment. He wanted to say something, to look at his friends, look at…

"I'm sorry, it's too late. I'm regenerating," he felt the energy take him over, forcing his head backwards and his arms to his sides. His explosion of regeneration energy blinded the entire group.

Renata could hear the stream of energy but it all seemed to fade to be replaced by a fluttering noise, like wings. In her distraction she almost missed when the Doctor suddenly redirected his regenerative energy into the jar under the console where his severed hand was. And just like that, he stumbled out of the chaos with his same face.

"Now then…" he took in a deep breath and turned to the stunned group watching his every movement. "Where were we?" his grin wasn't enough to pull the group from their trance.

"H-how…?" Renata was the first one to speak, but in doing so she reminded the Doctor that while he had moved on she was still fighting for her life.

"Renée!" His fond nickname of hers just slipped through his lips. He rushed towards her, arms enveloping around her to keep her steady. "I told you not to use that energy!"

"How the...you jusssst….you…" Renata desperately tried to gesture the fact he'd completely cheated the regeneration system. "You break...every ruuuule known to...known to ma…"

"I get the jist, now please take a seat," the Doctor brought her to the Captain's chair and was mindful of her (still) wobbly legs.

Rose watched the gentle movements between the two and couldn't, for the life of her, figure out how this version of Renata could actually travel with the Doctor. Could she truly be that kind like Donna had promised? Well she did destroy a Dalek, the Dalek that nearly killed the Doctor. That did count for something.

"What was that energy?" Jack had to ask because it definitely had not looked like regeneration energy.

Renata blinked slowly, languidly, and turned her head at Jack. "Do you...do you hear a-a flut-fluterring? I hear fluttering…"

Gabby said nothing but her eyes had darted around the room when she thought she heard a faint snippet of that fluttering. That had to be wrong. 

"It's an illness and what Renata just did made it worse," the Doctor shook his head as he straightened up. "It's - well, I don't really know what type of energy it is but it's contaminating her the more she uses it. And she just blew the bloody top off a Dalek for my sake!"

"Yeah, but that Dalek nearly killed you," Rose said, speaking for the first time since their almost reunification outside. "Counts, doesn't it?"

He looked at her not with the same fondness from before, but a more earnest, unhesitating expression. "No."

She blinked in surprise. How could he say that? It was his life on the line!

"Renata could die because of this. I would rather die before she dies for me." His words continued to strike her with shock...and perhaps with a bit of a heartbreak. The way he said it, like he regarded Renata as someone important, maybe more important than a regular companion.

"How-how can we help her?" Jack quickly put himself upfront to do whatever was needed.

"You can start…" Renata began, trying to force herself to stand, "By acting…" her breathing was still short and heavy, "...like I'm stilllll...here. You--" she pointed a finger at the Doctor, "--just wasted...one whole regen...regeneration!"

The Doctor winced. "Yes, but...I have a good reason." Renata raised an eyebrow, asking what he could possibly think was a good enough reason to waste an entire life. "I…" he straightened his tie and grinned, "...quite like my face. Look at me, why would I to change?"

Renata's two hands shook as she rose them just a bit, her fingers curling to air-strangle him. "I...you...you wasted…" she took in another breath, "...whole life for...for…"

"It's best not to even bark up that tree, Ren," Donna couldn't help her smile of amusement. "He's too self-centered."

"Oi," the Doctor straightened himself. "Now you, Renée, sit down!"

"Your hand!" The Time Lady gestured at the severed hand now glowing and bubbling like crazy. "Whole life wasted!"

"But worth it," the Doctor continued to grin. "Lucky for me that my hand was here to send off all that excess energy to, huh?"

Renata's laugh was a small one, but she knew that there was no convincing him that he'd made a wrong choice. On some part, she was a bit jealous of him. He truly loved his life that much. He must be truly happy where he is. She couldn't remember ever living a previous life with that type of feeling.

"So...you're still you, then?" Rose's soft question turned the Doctor towards her. "You're not...you're not going to change?"

"Uh, no...hopefully not," the Doctor smiled at her. "I'm still me."

Rose's face broke into a smile. She hurried up to him for a big hug. He gladly accepted it and took just one brief moment to really process the fact she'd been able to come back.

"You can hug me if you want," Donna bobbed her head at Jack. Gabby's face was comical as she left to be by Renata instead. Jack just laughed, but Donna was in no joking mood. "No, really, you can hug me."

"Can I hug you?" Gabby asked Renata since that was the vibe of the room. Renata chuckled lightly. Gabby turned her head for a moment, eyes lingering on the severed hand. She watched it glow and bubble, the bubbles going big at one point and then so small in the next…

"Gabriella?" Renata noticed the girl had slipped off into a trance.

Gabby blinked away from the jar and seemed confused as she smiled. "Sorry...I thought I just heard…"

Renata watched the girl sort her thoughts with struggle. Rose overheard and when she pulled away from the Doctor, her concerned - yet fearful - expression was not missed by Renata.

"Never mind," Gabby smiled it away, waving her hands that it wasn't important.

Still, Rose didn't look so happy. Renata made her way to the blonde human, more steady now but still having to use the console for support. She ignored the Doctor's plead to get back in her seat.

"Is there...something you knoow...about this?" She asked Rose.

Rose flipped her head in Renata's direction, giving her a quick scan before shaking her head. "No."

Renata raised an eyebrow. "I know we...haven't met...but I'm not an idiot. What do you know?"

Rose kept her mouth shut but she now had the Doctor giving her more or less the same look as Renata. "I don't...why are you looking at me like that?" She frowned at him. All of sudden he was following the Time Lady?

"Because if you know something about Gabby, I'd really appreciate if you told us. I don't feel like losing anyone else."

"I don't know," huffed Rose. "I just met versions of her that...that don't end so nicely, okay? And it starts with fluttering noises." She laid eyes on Renata, almost accusing the woman of something terrible she was yet to do.

Renata knew when she was being accused - previous lifetime gifts - and sighed. "So maybe I'm going to die. That's what the Ood said."

"No, absolutely not!" The Doctor snapped. He wasn't going to let that happen no matter what creature predicted it.

Renata closed her eyes for a brief moment before sighing again. Truthfully, she was too tired right now to argue about it so she just kept going. "He also mentioned something about butterflies, apart from the contamination."

"The Cosmic Butterfly?" Rose asked in a whisper, eyes already glinting with fear.

Renata recognized the look all too well. "You knew about this?"

Rose didn't like much the tone the Doctor was using on her, as if she was at fault for whatever was happening to Renata. "In another world that I crossed! It's those cosmic butterflies!" She turned to the Doctor, almost as if Renata had ceased to exist in that moment. "If she's been contaminated then there's nothing to do. She'll become dangerous, Doctor. She could hurt you!" 

"Already done that without wings, I'm afraid," Renata whispered and turned away.

"No, Renée…" the Doctor tried going after her, an action that left Rose a bit shaken, when the TARDIS' power went were left in darkness.

"What's happened?" Gabby fearfully looked around the place.

"Ah, they've got us!" the Doctor turned to the console but saw little to do when everything was out. "Power's gone... some kind of chronon loop!"

The TARDIS gave another jolt, this time pushing everyone to one side.

"Where are they taking us!?" Donna shrieked after yet another tumultuous shake.

"There's a massive Dalek ship at the center of the planets. They're calling it the Crucible. Guess that's our destination," Jack explained. He shot Renata a concerned glance. The Crucible was not the place that would help her health at the moment.

"So these Daleks are at the center of the planets?" Gabby asked slowly to make sure she understood so far. She was choosing to ignore the constant stare from Rose who couldn't look more afraid of her too. It reminded her of the way River Song would look at her in the Library. What could she possibly do to either women - who both seemed more than capable of taking care of themselves - that could earn their fear? "And you said that these planets were like an engine," she turned to the Doctor. "But what for?"

The Doctor wished he had the answer but since Rose was now there, maybe she had it. "Rose! You've been in a parallel world, that world's running ahead of this universe - you've seen the future, what was it?"

Rose went grim. "It's the darkness."

"The stars were going out," Donna added and, realizing that none of them knew about her whole parallel world trip with Rose, she explained better. "I got a parallel universe created around me by some alien fortune teller at UNIT. Remember when you left me?" The Doctor winced at her sharpness and even more so at her glare. "Rose went to that world. It was terrible. You were dead and that caused this whole reaction chain. But I remember the stars were going out."

"One by one. We looked up at the sky and they were just dying," Rose said distantly. It was such a scary thing to watch in person, feeling that with each star that disappeared they were all one star closer to death. But then she gazed at the Doctor and the feeling went away, because she was there with him and he always knew how to save things. "So basically, we've been building this um... this travel machine, this... uh... Dimension Cannon, so I could... well, so I could…so I could come back! Anyway, suddenly, it started to work. And the dimensions started to collapse."

"And did you ever think that maybe it was the that device you built?" Renata didn't mean for her question to be an accusation. She thought it was a fairly logical thought if that was the real story.

Rose felt the accusation, though, and got defensive. "I didn't mean for that to happen!"

"Of course not," Renata's honest agreement made Rose pause for a moment. She studied the Time Lady for any clue of what game she was playing. "No human could know that. Parallel worlds are supposed to be sealed because of...well, what happened to our world, but you didn't know that. But let's think about it that way and see if we can build a solution from that, shall we?"

Rose's suspicion didn't fade completely, but she would go along if it meant putting a stop to the Daleks. "Right. Well, it wasn't just in our world - not just in yours either - but the whole of reality, even the Void was dead. Something is... destroying everything."

"In that parallel world...you said something about me," Donna said as the parts of that trip came back to her for a minute.

Rose nodded. "The Dimension Cannon could measure timelines, and it's... it's weird, Donna, but they all seem to converge on you."

Donna didn't know to laugh at that due to the situation. "But why me? I mean... what have I ever done? I'm a temp from Chiswick!"

The monitor came back to life with the location of where they were arriving at. The Doctor hurried over to see it first. "The Dalek Crucible. All aboard…"

Of course, they landed with a crash.

"Doctor! You will step forth or die!" they began to hear the Daleks on the other side.

The Doctor turned to face the doors, taking a few steps towards it. "We'll... we'll have to go out," he realized. "If we don't, they'll get in."

"You told me nothing could get through those doors!" Rose accused.

"He lies," Renata said just as Gabby was about to say the same as Rose. And like Rose, Gabby seemed like she was betrayed. "Sorry ladies... that's...how he operates when he wants to keep you safe and happy." As if agreeing with her, the Doctor looked over his shoulder at her with a smirk. She did know him very well and that was something neither of them could deny.

"You've got extrapolator shielding," Jack thought a second later.

The Doctor turned around completely to give them the news of how it was, even if it was pretty grim. "Last time we fought the Daleks, they were scavengers and hybrids and mad. But this is a fully fledged Dalek Empire... at the height of its power. Experts at fighting TARDISes, they can do anything." That was enough to solidify their situation. "Right now, that wooden door...is just wood."

Donna had listened to the first part but as the Doctor had gone off, a different noise started taking over her attention. It wasn't like a flutter, no matter what Gabby and Renata said, but more like a heartbeat. She just couldn't figure out where it was coming from.

"Okay, what about your Dimension Jump?" Jack asked Rose, not quite ready to give up completely.

"It needs another twenty minutes, and anyway, I'm not leaving."

The Doctor, following Jack's footsteps in believing in one last shot, asked the immortal man, "What about your teleport?"

"Went down with the power-loss."

"Okay," Renata rubbed circles against her temples. "So we don't have much of an option then. There's no way out so we might as well go out there and see what they want, right?"

"Right," the Doctor gave a firm nod of his head, though he might have been just as scared as anyone else right now. He'd never been this outmatched and the fact he had too many people be cared about with him made it all the more worse. Dying on his own was okay but dying with his friends - their much shorter lifespans - was not what he wanted to see. "All of us together... yeah."

"What are they going to do to us?" Gabby's question was a faint whisper. Renata saw the terrified girl and moved on over to give her a side hug. Her feet seemed to have reclaimed their balance and her cheeks were halfway to looking normal again. But once Gabby felt Renata's touch, she once again knew that the warmth was back and stronger than ever.

"Donna?" the Doctor called once he noticed the ginger had been staring into space. He presumed it was the crippling fear. Like Renata had done with Gabby, the Doctor went for Donna. Soon as he touched her, she snapped out of her trance. "I'm sorry, there's nothing else we can do."

"No, I know," she gave a quick nod.

"Ren, you're really warm again," Gabby said quietly but the others still overheard.

Renata tried playing it off with a small laugh. "I just expelled unknown, possibly toxic, energy. Minor side effect but I'm fine."

The Doctor watched her carefully, knowing she was lying. She did it so easily, so casually, that he wondered when was the last time she didn't have to hide something about herself? When was the last time she had the luxury to be who she was, to always say how she felt? He never thought about that. So far he'd been very focused on his anger for what she didn't tell him. He never stopped to think about the reasons she was accustomed to being so reclusive. The Assessor blackmailing her, threatening her, to choose their family. Her own family planting values that contradicted her hearts. She grew up that way. She never had a choice.

"I'm fine, Doctor, really," Renata presumed his long, silent stare was just concern.

"There's a fluttering noise…" Gabby trailed off beside her, eyes keen on finding out where the fluttering was coming from.

"Surrender, Doctor, and face your Dalek masters!" the Daleks commanded from the other side.

"Daleks," Rose had no idea how to feel about that so she just laughed nervously. "Ha!"

Jack sucked in a breath, mentally preparing himself for whatever was coming next. "Oh, God!" The one thing they could both agree on, however, was that somehow the Doctor would pull it off. He could save them and everyone.

Their unwavered confidence in the Doctor pulled a tiny smile from him. He gazed at everyone in the room. "It's been good, though, hasn't it? All of us... all of it... everything we did…" he specifically looked at Renata for the last part. It was surprising, considering their pending fallout, but he needed her to know that no matter what he never regretted meeting her again.

"It has," she agreed after a long minute of silence. Her only regret was her past choices, but never meeting him at all. "I'm just sorry that I wasn't the best I could be."

Rose's eyes flickered between the pair with a questionable look. There was a twist in her stomach, warning her that she was missing out on something big.

The Doctor took the lead towards the door, albeit a bit slower than usual. He carefully opened the door and slid out.

"Daleks reign supreme! All hail the Daleks!" the Supreme Dalek began the chant as soon as they spotted the Doctor.

Most of the group was out to see themselves at the center of an entire Dalek emporium, all of them collectively chanting their favorite phrase. "Daleks reign supreme! All hail the Daleks! Daleks reign supreme! All hail the Daleks!"

Renata felt like the air in her lungs had vanished. The last time she'd been surrounded by these many Daleks was the Time War, and that was too painful - too traumatizing - to bring back at a time like this. Her legs buckled again, making her bump into Jack's back. "S-sorry," she quickly said.

"What is going on with you, Ren? Apart from the obvious," Jack came to her aid and put one arm around her shoulders to help her walk. She was hot, literally. Her skin might as well be boiling.

The Doctor happened to look back and saw Renata struggling again. Plus, neither Gabby nor Donna had come out of the TARDIS yet. "Gabby? Donna?" he called to them. "It's no safer in there…"

Gabby was on her way out but she noticed Donna was staring at something, perhaps something no one else saw. "Donna? C'mon," she gently called to the woman.

Donna seemed to blink out of another trance. Like the fluttering, the heartbeats wouldn't stop. "Right…"

Gabby nodded and turned to leave, when the doors literally shut in her face. It actually hurt her nose a bit. Her brow furrowed in confusion and, frankly, a bit of anger. "HEY!" Donna rushed over to her side to bang on the door as well. They were not going to stay inside. If they were going to die then they wanted to do it with their friends.

"Doctor!" Donna roared with each bang she hit the door with.

The Doctor had already ran to the TARDIS to pry the doors open. Renata attempted to do the same but nearly fell from weakness if Jack hadn't tightened his hold around her.

"What's happened!?" Renata cried as she watched the Doctor pull the doors in vain. Gabby and Donna were collectively shouting to be freed, even accusing the Doctor of locking them away, but of course he hadn't done it.

"What did you do!?" the Doctor furiously turned to the Supreme Dalek.

"This is not of Dalek origin."

"Of course it's you!" Renata exclaimed. "Now open the doors!"

The Doctor didn't believe a word either. "Stop it! They're my friends. Now, open the door and let them out!"

"This is Time Lord treachery!" the Supreme declared, bringing the Doctor to a momentary pause.

"Me!?" he repeated, frankly incredulous. They didn't have an actual body but they had a stupid eye stalk to see. "The door just closed on its own!"

"Nevertheless: the TARDIS is a weapon and it will be destroyed." As soon as the Supreme Dalek declared it, a trapdoor opened up underneath the TARDIS and swallowed it whole.

Gabby and Donna both fell backwards on the floor with the harsh drop.

"NOOO!" Renata screamed just like before when the Doctor had been struck by a Dalek. She frantically pushed Jack away and tried running, only to fall with her wobbly legs. Golden energy sprang from her body, though, and hit the spot where the TARDIS had just been.

"Detain the Time Lady," the Supreme Dalek ordered.

"Stay back tin-boys," Jack aimed his gun at them. It might not do much but he wasn't going to let more people get taken.

"Now stop it!" the Doctor was enraged as he turned towards the nearing Daleks. He ran to Renata to help her stand but hissed when his hands touched her body. "You stay the hell away from her! And bring my friends back! Where are you taking them!?"

"The Crucible has a heart of Z-Neutrino Energy. The TARDIS will be deposited into the core."

Renata was lucid enough to understand the implication. She used the Doctor as a pillar to stand again and glared at the Supreme Dalek. "You've taken...the defeeeence...down!" She breathed hard but it would not stop her from attacking if she needed to. "You'll killll...them!"

~ 0 ~

Inside the TARDIS, Gabby and Donna cried for dear life. The fall - wherever they were heading - was picking up speed the longer they took. They each held to a rail and watched as the console lights spark and shoot fires as if they were cooking.

And maybe they were…

Gabby gripped her railing as hard as she could, bringing a white shade to her skin in the process, but if she was paying attention to her fingers she would see a light lavender glow. But she was too scared to do anything but scream and cry, and think about the fact she was going to die.

"The jar!" Donna was the first to see the jar with the Doctor's severed hand glowing like mad. It almost looked like it would finally tip over from all the shakes.

"Donna, don't!" Gabby reached for the ginger when she attempted to get to the console.

Donna had heard the heartbeat again and this time she was sure that it was coming from the console. She needed to know what it was. So, however way she could, she wobbled towards the console.

"Donna!" Gabby shrieked when one particular spark billowed a gray smoke over them. She let go of the rail and nearly fell over the other one. Her best bet was following Donna and be near the Captain's chair.

The two made it just before the TARDIS threw them flat on their stomachs.

Donna shook her head then raised it. Her eyes locked on the jar with a new sense of determination. It was calling to her, in heartbeats. She felt like she couldn't turn away anymore. It needed her.

"Am I crazy…" Gabby was squinting from the smoke, "...or do I hear fluttering -- Donna!" She'd caught Donna's arm just as the ginger had reached for the jar. As soon as Donna touched it, the regeneration energy in the jar wrapped around them until the entire jar shattered. 

~ 0 ~

The TARDIS appeared on a screen for the group to see. It was being submerged into an oozy energy.

"The females and the TARDIS will perish together! Observe," the Supreme Dalek said. "The last children of Gallifrey is powerless."

Renata was destroyed - more than that but she wouldn't be able to describe it if anyone asked her - when she saw the screen. It was too much like watching her family burn all over again. She gripped the Doctor's arm around her, perhaps squeezing it too tight but he didn't notice. He couldn't feel.

He felt utterly powerless as he watched his friends practically burn to death. "Please. I'm begging you, I'll do anything! Put me in their place! You can do anything to me, I don't care, just get them out of there!"

But the Daleks said nothing.

Renata frantically looked between the screen and the empty spot behind them. That was Gabriella - Gabby - dying in there, the girl who'd been so curious about the world that she took the greatest risk of her life by coming into the TARDIS. It was Gabby, the first girl - the first human - to ever make Renata feel fondness towards them. Martha had done wonders but even after her, Renata was always weary of humans...even poor Donna got a taste of it before meeting Gabby.

Gabby had helped change Renata so much and the Time Lady had only realized it up until now. The intoxicated energy inside her was a result of her trying to keep Gabby safe. Never in her life did Renata ever dream of putting herself in danger for a human. Each person she'd met so far had slowly changed her - no one more than the Doctor - but Gabby was a really close second.

And now she was gone. Dead.

"You are connected to the TARDIS. Now, feel it die," the Supreme Dalek said to the Doctor.

~ 0 ~

The regeneration energy exploded and managed to throw Gabby across the room, her back hitting the rails. The golden energy around her had faded as a strong purple glow took over instead. Donna, however, seemed more immune to the regeneration energy. It merely left her to spread to the severed hand now twitching...spreading more...and more...until it formed the shape of a man.

And then suddenly the Doctor sprang up from the floor.

Donna gawked with a mouth fully open. "It's you!"

"Oh yes!"

Her eyes happened to lower and made her realize he wasn't wearing any clothes. "And you're naked!"

It didn't faze him whatsoever. "Oh yes!"

~ 0 ~

"Total TARDIS destruction in ten rels!" one of the Daleks announced. "Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five!"

~ 0 ~

Gabby slowly blinked awake from her spot and saw the new Doctor trying to reach for something on the console. She ignored the question of how it was possible, but she knew it wasn't the Doctor they knew. "Hey - you get away from there!" She lurched towards him, with a hand forwards and accidentally fired a jet of purple butterflies.

It didn't reach the Doctor in time, for he had pressed a specific button on the console, but it did go over Donna who shrieked in horror and tried swatting them away. Gabby brought her hands to her chest, eyes widened and flickering from side to side.

Had she just done that?

~ 0 ~

"Four! Three! Two! One!" the Dalek said just as the TARDIS faded from the energy.

It struck the Doctor more than he would've thought. He felt empty and yet there was an overwhelming fury that began to spread through him.

"The TARDIS has been destroyed. Now, tell me, Doctor... what do you feel?" the Supreme Dalek asked him. "Anger? Sorrow? Despair?"

"Yeah," the Doctor answered through gritted teeth.

Renata sniffed as it truly dawned on her that Gabby and Donna were gone. She started to scream with the same fury the Doctor was keeping inside, only her fury seemed to bring something else outside. Once again, the golden energy burst from her to strike whatever was in front of her. Jack and Rose had to dive in opposite directions and the Doctor had to let go of her before he was burned. Renata's sobs were painful enough to hear, but it seemed like each time she expelled energy it physically pained her. The only difference now was that there were a few (half) formed golden butterflies in the midst of the energy blasts.

"The cosmic butterfly," Rose whispered in true horror. It was Renata. "She's here."

Jack had no idea what Rose meant but he did see more Daleks coming for them - for Renata - and decided to act. He grabbed his gun on the side and fired. "Get away!"

"Exterminate!" the Supreme Dalek directly shot Jack.

"No!" Rose watched Jack fall to the ground. She was yet to learn about his new immortal abilities - the ones she herself granted him. She rushed over to his side, hoping that they'd gotten just a bit lucky and that he would still be alive. "Jack! Oh, my God. Oh, no…"

The Doctor didn't know whether to go to Rose and keep her away from the leering Daleks or Renata who was still crying and bursting with energy. The Time Lady helplessly cried but the Doctor no longer knew if her tears were for Gabby and Donna or for herself being in physical pain.

"Detain the Time Lady in the Vault, along with the Doctor and their companion," the Supreme Dalek commanded.

Renata could see her surroundings from the corners of her eyes and it looked a lot like Daleks. She groaned and put her best effort to standing up without hurting the Doctor and Rose.

"You need to stop," the Doctor hurried to catch her before she fell forwards.

"I-I can't," she swallowed hard, clearly in pain. "It's-it's just coming ou…" Her body lurched forwards again, onto him in the process. He understood she couldn't control it and it scared him that this was her end as well. If the toxins were in too deep then regeneration wouldn't be possible.

He didn't want to lose her twice.

~ 0 ~

The new Doctor had found himself a blue suit to wear and was making mends to the TARDIS to the best of his ability under the circumstances. "All repaired! Lovely. Shh! No-one knows we're here! Gotta keep quiet. Silent running, like on submarines when they can't even drop a spanner. Don't drop a spanner. I like blue, what do you think?"

Donna was completely awed by the fact there was a literal copy of the Doctor in front of them, but Gabby was a bit more angry.

"You tell me how the hell I conjured butterflies!" She pointed at him as if he was the reason for her new ability, and in pointing at him...she released more purple butterflies that he had to swat away from his face.

"Watch where you point that thing!" he said with a scrunched face.

"How is this possible!?" Gabby stomped her foot. "How are you possible!?"

"Maybe it's what Time Lords do," Donna said after some careful thinking. "Like they lop a bit off and grow another one? You're like worms!"

"No, no, no, no, no, I'm unique!" the Doctor said, sounding incredibly offended. "Never been another like me! Because all that regeneration energy went into the hand - look at my hand, I love that hand…" he wiggled his fingers but that didn't bring any amusement from either woman. "But then you touched it -- WHAM!" he screamed so loud that both women jumped.

"Stop that!" Gabby exclaimed.

"It was an instantaneous biological metacrisis. I grew... out of you," he said to Donna, not appearing to like the reality of things. "Still, could be worse."

Gabby exchanged a look with Donna and without having to tell her to do it, Gabby raised her finger and pointed it at the Doctor. A series of purple butterflies slapped his face.

"Stop that!" He cried.

"Then watch it, spaceman!" Donna snapped. She wasn't going to let some carbon copy tell her off.

"Oi! Watch it, Earth-girl!" the Doctor ended up using the same tone, surprising himself and the others in the process. "Oh!" he was even doing the same gaping mouth expression as Donna. "I sound like you! I sound all... all sort of, rough!"

"Oi!" Donna said, not sure if that was an insult or just something Doctor-y.

"Oi!" went the Doctor in the same exact tone.

"Oi!"

"Oi!"

"Would you stop it!?" Gabby shouted at them both. "We need to get back to the Crucible and save the others!"

But as Gabby reminded them of the pending trouble, the Doctor had come to another realization. His hand was over his chest and there was a completely terrified expression on his face. "You are kidding me, no way. One heart...I've got one heart! This body... has got only one heart!"

That definitely got both Gabby and Donna to freeze. "What?" They even said together.

Donna wanted to verify for herself so she put her hand over his chest and felt the one heartbeat underneath. "You're human!"

"Oh, that's disgusting!" cried the man.

"Would you stop that!?" Gabby once more shouted at him. She was finding it hard to believe that this was truly another Doctor when he was being so incredibly rude towards their kind.

"I'm... part Time Lord, part human…" the Doctor scowled and looked at Donna. "Well, isn't that wizard?"

"I kept hearing that noise... that heartbeat," Donna said, beginning to feel like it was all his fault.

"Oh, that was me. My single heart," he said dismissively as he went back to the console. "'Cos I'm a- complicated event in time and space, must've rippled back. Converging on you."

"But why me?"

"Because you're special."

Donna got exasperated with the stupid answer. "Oh, I keep telling you: I'm not."

"Of course you are, Donna." Even Gabby was agreeing with him which just further irritated her.

"Oh…" the Doctor realized something after really studying Donna's shifting response, "You really don't believe that, do you? I can see, Donna... what you're thinking. All that attitude, all that lip, 'cos all this time... you think you're not worth it."

"Stop it," Donna spat and turned her head away from him and Gabby.

"Shouting at the world 'cos no-one's listening. Well... why should they?"

"Do you really think that about yourself, Donna?" Gabby softly asked. Donna wouldn't look at her but she didn't shake her head to deny it either. "Why? I think you're amazing."

"Oh," Donna scoffed. "Please. You're an artist -- you've got your whole life ahead of you and what have I done with mine? Waste it."

"You haven't wasted your life, Donna. It's been a bumpy ride but there's so much you can do."

"We were always heading for this," the Doctor mumbled in thought, getting both women to gaze at him. "You came to the TARDIS on your wedding day--"

"--I was kidnapped!" Donna said, for a moment sounding like Renata that she smiled for just one second.

"And you found me again," the Doctor went on, referring to the Adipose Industries event. "Even your grandad...and your car!" he was suddenly so excited. "Donna, your car! You parked your car right where the TARDIS was gonna land, that's not a coincidence at all! We've been blind! Something's been drawing us together for such a long time!"

"Stop spinning your crazy man," Gabby physically went ahead and stopped him from endlessly turning in his spot. "And explain yourself."

"You're talking like... destiny," Donna released a breath. "But there's no such thing... is there?"

"The Cosmic Butterfly is a well known destiny," the Doctor said and looked to Gabby who just blinked response.

"Come again?"

"Well it's what I know, what I heard," he said. "Cos see, the parallel worlds' walls have been crumbling for some time and a lot of these things echo into our world, bleed through it. And since I was a complicated event in the time lines, I heard things. You, Gabby, are the Cosmic Butterfly. You are another fixed point in time. You are…" he seemed to run out of breath just thinking about whatever the Cosmic Butterfly truly was, "You are something that...requires a lot of caution."

"Doctor, you're scaring me," Gabby took a few steps back and swallowed hard. "Rose said the same thing about a butterfly…but she thought it was Renata."

"No, it's you. You're the Cosmic Butterfly. Your finger!" He reached for her hand despite having to fight with her to take it. "Your hands! You're already beginning to express those powers! My regeneration energy kickstarted them! They've been dormant up until now. Sorry about that."

Gabby's head was spinning with thousands of questions but the main thing she wanted to know concerned Renata. For whatever that was happening to herself right now, she didn't feel weak like Renata was. The energy was just coming out of her like nothing. Clearly, it wasn't the same for Renata. "What about Ren? She's worse off than me."

"Because she's not like you," the Doctor said, visibly swallowing hard. Fear had etched across his face, his eyes widening slowly. "Word will travel about her. They have in other worlds. She's...something else, something more chaotic..."

"What do you mean?" Gabby felt her chest constrict. The prediction of death, that's all that came to mind.

"They called her...the Vortex Butterfly in the other worlds."

~ 0 ~

Down in the vault there were few noises, and the few were overpowered by the constant groans and cries of Renata. The Daleks had placed her, the Doctor and Rose in three separate 'prisons' in the Vault room - a spacious room - that looked more like spotlights. The Doctor was in-between Renata and Rose, but despite where they were and what was probably coming next, most of the Doctor's attention - if not all - was on his right.

Renata was sitting over her legs, her body leaning forwards as if she were throwing up, and couldn't stop groaning. Every part of her body ached. Because every few minutes her body would expel more golden energy that inflamed her entire prison - blinding anyone around her - and would then leave her in a more weakened state. And when she wasn't groaning, she cried, because of the pain...and because her friends were dead.

"Interesting child of Time," Davros' raspy voice honestly gave Rose the shivers. Perhaps it wasn't all that bad being trapped inside the prison if it meant keeping Davros from touching her. However, he seemed more focused on the Time Lady on their far right. "I assume this is the Cosmic Butterfly Dalek Caan mentioned."

The Doctor gritted his teeth so hard he actually felt the sting of pain through his jaw. "You leave her alone," he darkly warned.

"It is time we talked, Doctor, after so very long--"

"No, no, no, no, no. We're not doing the nostalgia tour. I want to know what's happening right here, right now, 'cos the Supreme Dalek said 'vault', yeah? As in, dungeon. Cellar. Prison. You're not in charge of the Daleks, are you? They've got you locked away down here in the basement, like, what, a servant? Slave? Court jester?"

"We have... an arrangement," Davros barely finished when Renata's loud, raspy laugh cut through the conversation.

She raised her head a bit, revealing her pale cheeks. "Forrrrgive mee…" she drew in a breath, "...for laughing….ha!" She groaned and clutched her stomach.

"You're the Dalek's pet!" the Doctor spat.

Davros turned his chair towards Rose, and in doing the blonde leaned back as if he would cross the prison. "So very full of fire, is he not? And to think, you crossed entire universes, striding parallel to parallel to find him again."

"Admirable," Renata once again cut in, surprising Rose (and perhaps the Doctor for a moment). Renata wished she could stand but she honestly couldn't even feel her legs anymore. "She's...been brave enough...to do what...some of us couldn't. He had toooo leave her...but sheee...she fought to come baaack…" She tried turning her head in Rose's direction in a way that would cause her the least throbbing. "Admirable. Brave."

For a moment, Rose's face softened at the woman. "I've met a lot of versions of you...but you're the only who's ever complimented me."

Renata smiled weakly. "Yeah, well...I'm not a nice person," she sniffed. "In fact...I'm a liar."

"Enough!" Davros snapped but Renata screamed and let the energy flame from her body.

"If I'm dying then I'm gonna say what I want!"

"Renata, save your energy," the Doctor turned to her desperately. "Please, no more talking, no more moving…"

"Ah, forget it Doctor," Renata swallowed hard and turned her body to face him and Rose instead of Davros. "For once...I want to be honest. And if this is really it...I want people to know that I-I did get better. I tried to."

"Don't-don't talk," the Doctor continued to plead but she had made her choice.

"Rose, you have to understand…" Renata shuddered a breath and placed a palm against the invisible barrier. She was going to try to stand. "I-I'm not, I've never been a good person but he--" she made a small nod towards the Doctor, "--he found something good in me. He tried helping me and I repaid him by breaking his hearts."

Rose didn't know why but she was clinging to Renata's every word. She could feel the woman's pain and regret, making her appear more human than any other version she'd met before.

"I-I made...all the wrong choices," Renata scrunched her face as she struggled to stand up.

"Renée, please," the Doctor whispered for her to stop but she just wouldn't.

"And when I-I realized that I...that I made the wrong choice, I didn't do anything about it. I let time pass me by, centuries, until I felt like I was just...floating through. But you, Rose, you were the opposite. Things pulled you apart...but you wouldn't take it - you did something about it. And now here you are. That...that is admirable. I respect you. I didn't before but...well, that's another thing the Doctor and everyone else on this planet has taught me."

Rose actually felt tears in her eyes. She didn't even know Renata enough to cry over something she said about her, but Rose couldn't help it. It was as if she could feel every last bit that Renata was harboring inside her hearts. "There were rumors about the Cosmic Butterfly that didn't make sense to me," Rose almost smiled at the irony. Some would say that the Cosmic Butterfly was a dangerous creature and yet others said it was known to be emphatic and even made it a two way street. Perhaps this is what Renata was doing unknowingly.

Renata was none the wiser. She had started something and she wanted to finish it before her body prevented her from. "You know what? Right now, I'm 756 years old and I realize that I don't think I've ever truly loved my lives. I've lived, almost had a child, but I was never really happy." She paused for a moment, head hanging low before concluding what she wanted to do. She'd managed to stand up but was leaning entirely against the prison's wall. She met the Doctor's gaze with a sad smile. "I confess that I, Renata, Reneé, might just want to die."

Now it was the Doctor's turn to get ready eyed. With their proper tools Renata couldn't follow the true customs of what a Time Lord did before dying. Her confession dial was non-existent and so she would do it verbally. She would confess the last of her secrets to him, to anyone who would listen.

"Please don't do it," his beg was frail but Renata just sniffed and smiled at him, assuring him things would be okay even when she had no idea if that was true.

"I confess that I made the wrong choice centuries ago because I was scared, because I was a coward. I confess that I never truly moved on. And I confess that meeting you again scared me to the bone because I was afraid of falling again. I was afraid of hurting you again. And I did it. And I am so sorry. I confess that I do love you, that I have never stopped, and that is not a regret."

The Doctor wished he could get to her in that moment and hold her. He didn't even think about their argument, much less his anger. She truly felt like she was dying and what was worse is that she wanted to die. She didn't want to live anymore. Her life was so unbearable that she would rather it end. He pounded a fist against the wall keeping him away from her, frustrated that he couldn't do any of the things he wanted.

Renata turned her head at Davros who'd been nothing but silent for the past minutes. Her expression had gone dark, a new emotion she had yet to display. "And I confess that if I'm truly dying, I am going to take down every last Dalek on this ship. You wanted a child of Time? You got the worst one." The flames of energy danced over her body until, once again, it was released and covered her prison from top to bottom.

"Interesting energy," Davros had to confess himself. "The same energy that Dalek Caan spoke of." He pressed a button on the control panel of his chair and revealed Dalek Caan himself planted on a platform in the room.

"She is the Vortex Butterfly," Dalek Caan said in a sing-song manner. Confusion spread across the Doctor's face but a more fearsome feeling took over Rose. She spared Renata a brief glance with widened eyes.

"That's not - that's…" the Doctor did the same and stared down at Renata. She'd crumpled to the floor again, groaning as new flames of energy prepared to burst. "That's the...vortex!" the Doctor almost smacked himself for being so blind. "Of course!"

"What is he talking about?" Rose asked him, eyes flickering from Renata to Dalek Caan.

"The golden energy is the Time Vortex but I couldn't know that because the toxins have mutated it with the Osiran energy. I completely forgot that the Osiran energy's main function is to heal and that's a huge contradiction to the levels of the Vortex inside Renata, not to mention the Block Transfer energy from Zhe's gallery. It's growing volatile the more it combines." 

Rose hated to admit that in times like these, she still could find a moment to appreciate his rambling of light speed.

Renata began to cry again but the burst of energy overshadowed her voice. The Doctor turned to the woman, trying to keep his eyes on her despite the blinding light from her energy. "The Time Vortex, the Block Transfer energy, the Osiran energy...they've created something new. The Vortex Butterfly. The butterflies, Renée."

"The butterflies of death," Dalek Caan giggled, causing a deepened scowl to mark the Doctor's face.

"Shut up!" He snapped.

When the cortex energy dissipated once more, Renata slightly turned her head at him. Her eyes were red and teary from fatigue. She noticed the way Rose was now staring at her. "You-you about this, don't you?"

Seeing who she was talking to, the Doctor quickly turned to Rose, desperate for any information that could help Renata. "Rose? Please?"

Rose didn't want to say anything particularly bad considering Renata had just poured her hearts and feelings out to her just minutes before. It would be wrong but... keeping quiet would also be wrong. "I thought you were the Cosmic Butterfly. The Vortex Butterfly is a far more dangerous creature when it wants to be. I've met many versions of you and...and some of them were like Gabby. These big butterfly creatures...like hybrids."

For a minute, Renata panicked at the idea that perhaps death wasn't coming for her. A space mutation was creeping over instead. "So...so what's going to happen to me?"

"So cold and dark. Fire is coming... the endless flames…" Dalek Caan answered and this time it was Rose who shot it a glare.

"Shut up! I don't understand how you know all that, but--"

"Dalek Caan flew into the Time War, unprotected," Davros explained to her. "He saw Time. Its infinite complexity and majesty raging through his mind."

"And I saw everything," Dalek Caan agreed from the platform. "The Vortex Butterfly draws from the Time Vortex itself and can kill anything in its path. The Cosmic Butterfly can follow in the same path. I saw them and I saw all three of you here, and I know that the Doctor will be here, as witness, at the end of everything. The Doctor and his precious Children of Time! And one of them will die...!"

The Doctor could barely contain his rage, but in the end what was the point of containing it? "Was it you!? kill Donna and Gabby? Why did the TARDIS door close? Tell me!"

Davros was delighted by the sight. "Oh that's it! The end, the fire, the rage of a Time Lord who butchered millions. There he is. Why so shy? Show your companions... show them your true self." The Doctor did not look anywhere but the floor, uneasy. "Dalek Caan has promised me that, too.

"I have seen it. At the time of ending, the Doctor's soul will be revealed," Dalek Caan confirmed, but the Doctor wasn't having it from a ridiculous Dalek that couldn't even move anymore.

"What does that mean?"

"We will discover it together... our final journey," Davros promised. "Because the ending approaches. The testing begins."

"Testing of what?" the Doctor called when Davros turned away from them.

"The Reality Bomb." He brought up a screen for them to see exactly what he was talking about. "Behold... the apotheosis of my genius."

Down in a chamber were dozens of humans crowded into one spot like a herd. The Doctor dreaded what they were planning on doing with the innocent humans, but all he could do was watch.

~0~

"Now you tell me what this whole butterfly thing is all about!" Gabby was rounding on the new Doctor while he madly went around the console, trying to figure out what the Daleks were up to. "Or so help me-" but before she could finish her threat, the TARDIS shuddered and rocked the trio inside.

"It's the planets. The twenty-seven planets!" the Doctor realized once he caught sight of the monitor.

~0~

Renata had raised her head the necessary amount to see what was on the screen. Each stolen planet were bathed in a white glow.

"But that's Z-Neutrino Energy," the Doctor realized first. "Flattened by the alignment of the planets into a single stream - no!" he shouted once he figured out the plan. There were too many lives at stake and they had no care about it. "Davros. Davros, you can't! You can't! NO!"

The planets glowed stronger but inside the chamber the humans were beginning to dissolve into atoms. And just like that, the glows around the planet disappeared, but so had the humans entirely.

~0~

"What...what just happened?" Rose swallowed hard. She could see the Doctor's blind panic - almost feel it herself - and the satisfaction on Davros crusty face meant true horror.

"Electrical energy, Miss Tyler," Davros answered. "Every atom in existence is bound by an electrical field. The Reality Bomb cancels it out - structure falls apart. That test was focused on the prisoners alone. Full transmission will dissolve every form of matter."

"The stars are going out…" Rose quietly realized. It was what was killing the stars, but how could they do it in every world? She turned her head in Renata's direction, tears coming to her eyes. "It was me. You-you were right." Renata met the girl's gaze and, despite bearing no accusation, she confirmed it with silence. Rose felt like her lungs had run out of air once the load truly fell on her. She hadn't created any Reality Bomb, bit her traveling through parallel worlds had cracked the already weakened walls of the world's from the Battle of Canary Wharf. Each time she crossed to a different world, she gave the Daleks access to a new world of experiments. It was HER her fault.

"You couldn't have known," Renata exhaled as if she'd been holding her breath that whole time. "And besides, THEY they-" she narrowed her eyes at Davros, "-are the ones who created this. They stole 27 planets, turning them into one vast transmitter. And they blasted that wavelength…"

"Across the entire universe," Davros finished for her, eager to actually, as if he wanted everyone to know their amazing project. "Never stopping. Never faltering. Never fading. People and planets and stars will become dust. And the dust will become atoms and the atoms will become... nothing. And the wavelength will continue, breaking through the Rift at the heart of the Medusa Cascade into every dimension, every parallel, every single corner of creation. This is my ultimate victory, Doctor! The destruction of reality itself!"

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - How A Star Is Born ch.V

A Hercules AU, founded by @evaroze, whom this fic is a gift for. I hope y’all like it!

ch.IV - ch.VI

AO3 link

~~~~~~~~~~

Years went by. Both Dipper and Mabel went through vigorous training under their uncles’ supervision. After allowing Mabel to visit the world, Stanford had combat training be added to her lessons so, if needed, she could defend herself. Now a master of duel swords and a brand new goddess of the arts, Mabel spent her days inspiring humans, helping to keep Olympus beautiful and safe, and exploring the woods throughout Greece.

She also spent a lot of time talking to Dipper. At least once a week he would sit at night and draw in his journal to talk to his sister, swapping stories and inspiring each other to learn and grow.

Dipper was no longer a scrawny little boy, but a strong, muscular, clever young man of seventeen. Stan had never been more proud in his entire life, boxing with the kid and having him go through trials and tests and watching him grow up. He even managed to teach Dipper a few swears.

Stan coughed into his fist, standing at the end of the most difficult obstacle course Dipper had ever been set to. He grinned as Dipper emerged from shark-infested waters, blazing hoops, electric spikes, and racist homophobes, without a scratch on him, and Stan and Dipper high-hived and cheered and celebrated.

“You did it, kid! You were great!”

“Thanks, I couldn’t have done without you.” Dipper said with a smile.

“Obviously.” Stan smirked, earning him a soft punch in the beer belly. “Oof! Okay, okay. You go pack up, ya gremlin. We’re going to Thebes!”

“Isn’t that place, like, the worst place in Greece?” Dipper asked as they headed back to the Mystery Shack.

“You got it, you’ll be just what the doctor ordered.” Stan explained. “Young hero like you can help a lot of people in an Underworld-hole like that. Great place to start out. If you can make it at the Big Olive, you can make it anywhere.”

The men set sail before the sun rose the next morning. For some odd reason, Stan locked up the shack in a way that made it seem like they were never coming back, but Dipper assumed it was only because Stan believed that Dipper could make it big. The young man smiled, determined not to let his teacher down, and made sure they were on the right track.

After sailing across the ocean for a few hours, they floated into a river that traveled along the woods, taking a shortcut for Thebes rather than travel through the sea for Greece. Stan was resting in a chair with a cold drink in his hand, letting Dipper sail for a while, when they heard a scream.

The old man shot up and grinned. “Perfect! A damsel in distress! Good warm-up before we hit down. Lower the anchor here.”

Dipper did as he was told and they crept down the river for the waterfall, where they saw a young lady stumble away, groaning and growling in her throat.

The girl had long, beautiful blonde hair and stunning blue eyes that crackled like raging fire, wearing a long baby-blue dress. She hurried to her feet but was soon scooped up by the enemy that came around the river bend.

A huge Manotaur with a toga around his waist was so huge he grabbed the woman in his fist around the waist. “Not so fast, sweetheart.” He growled.

“Put me down right now, Chutzpah, or I’ll…!” The woman threw a punch at the monster, but he held her away and laughed.

“I like ‘em fiery!”

“HEY!” Dipper yelled from the riverbank and stomped on the river, leaving Stan in the bushes to munch on some popcorn.

“My money’s on Hooves.”

The girl and Chutzpah stared at the newcomer and the monster growled, “Beat it, twerp, I’m busy.”

“Sorry, mister, but you’re gonna let her go, or…”

“Keep moving, junior.” The girl sneered.

“... or I’ll…” Dipper’s sentence dropped and shattered. “But aren’t you… er, a damsel in distress?”

“I’m a damsel.” The woman said as she tried to pull herself free from the giant fist. “I’m in distress. I can handle this. Have a nice day.” She said with a sly grin with cold blue eyes.

Dipper swallowed and cleared his throat, reaching for his sword. “Uh, ma’am, I think you might be too close to this situation to realize your…” But the Manotaur punched him with so much force that Dipper flew onto a big boulder on the other side of the river.

Stan winced while Chutzpah laughed and the damsel looked bored. “C’mon kid, shake it off!” The old man coached.

Dipper charged, leaving his sword behind, and started to toss left and right hooks back and forth and landing, making the monster dizzy, and then used his head to hit him so hard it was his turn to fly back onto a hard surface, landing behind the waterfall and dropping the girl in the process.

“YES! That’s what I’m talking about, sport! Keep it up!”

“UGH!”

Dipper looked down at the wet girl and gently scooped her up out of the river to sit on a rock. “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am. That was dumb… Excuse me, please.” And he and Chutzpah resumed their battle, the demigod using his strength to throw the Manotaur over his shoulder and putting him in a head-lock.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” Stan chanted while the girl rang her hair dry, a smirk on her face.

“Not bad, not bad.”

“What are you talking about, he’s great!” Stan cheered. “Throw him a left! Atta boy!”

With one final punch, Dipper made Chutzpah the Manotaur fly up in the air and then come back crashing down face first in the water, a shiny bruise on his snooze button.

“Alright! Nice work!” Stan coached. “You could’ve gone without the distraction from a pair of big goo-goo eyes, but good recovery! Alright, let’s hit the water and move on.” And he walked off for the boat.

But once again, Dipper was distracted. The woman was rubbing her arms dry and sliding off the rock to stand, stretching her slender back; Dipper’s face felt hot and his whole body felt like it wasn’t even there. “Uh… are you alright, miss…?”

“Pacifica.” The girl said with a voice that dripped with sarcasm, like she believed she had better things to do than be standing here and talking to him, but she didn’t know what. “I’m fine. Thanks for the save. So, you got a name to go with all those rippling pectorals?”

“Uh… um, ah… I’m uh… uh…”

“Don’t speak Greek or something?”

“Dipper!” The man cleared his throat and answered in a calmer tone. “M-My name is Dipper. How did you get mixed up with the…”

“Knucklehead with hooves?” Pacifica finished for him. “Ah, you know how men are. They all think ‘no’ means ‘yes,’ and ‘get lost’ means ‘take me, I’m yours.’ Well, thanks for everything, Dip. Bye-bye.” And Pacifica began to walk away.

“Wait!” Dipper called out quickly, a reflex of seeing someone beautiful and cool-headed going away, and he offered sheepishly, “Uh, c-c-can I give you a ride on my boat, erm, me and Stan’s boat?”

“I’m fine,” Pacifica giggled coldly. “I’m a big tough girl, I tie my own sandals and everything. I can look after myself. See ya, Dippin’ Dots.” And Dipper watched as she disappeared beneath a hill.

“Uh… bye.” Dipper said weakly, clumsy on his feet as Stan sailed their small boat behind him, going down the river for Thebes.

“OY! Knucklehead! We going or what?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah… yeah…”

Dipper pulled himself on board, smiling with his head in the clouds. Stan sighed and shook his head, muttering, “Twitterpated.”

As Pacifica walked further and further into the woods, the atmosphere got darker and darker. The young lady walked as coldly as the air, unafraid and all too familiar with who was approaching her. When a huge gust of blue fire erupted from the Earth and a floating triangle appeared before the teenage girl, she rolled her eyes and sneered, “Great, I needed cheddar for dinner.”

Bill cackled as he held his three-sided body and kicked his legs in the air. “Oh, my little Llama. Care to explain what exactly happened?” He made a chess board appear before him with various pieces of monsters and anomalies on the board. “I thought you were gonna persuade the River Guardian to join my team for the uprising and, here I am, kinda River Guardian-less.”

“I gave it my best shot,” Pacifica said coldly as she flicked Chutzpah off the board. “But he made an offer I had to refuse.”

“Okay, fine,” Bill replied as he made the board disappear, closing it like a book. “Instead of taking two year from your lifetime sentence, Imma add two on, okay? You got your best shot?”

Pacifica groaned and walked away, leaning against a dead tree. “Look, it wasn’t my fault, okay. It was this Wonderboy who beat your Manotaur up.”

“Wonderboy?” Bill repeated.

“Some new hero who came with this big innocent farm-boy routine, but I could see through that in a Peloponnesian minute.” Pacifica said with a cold snap of her fingers.

“New hero, huh?” Bill said, a hand to what might have been his chin but was really just under his eye. “If some new guy is beating up my minions it could weaken our chances of over-throwing Sixer…” The demon stopped his talking when he heard a voice. He swooped Pacifica up into the trees as a dark cloud, just in time to hide from the intruder.

Mabel was running through the woods with a pig at her feet. He had grown quite large since the young muse had met the pig, and now they both ran as fast as they could, but the teenage girl made it to a tree first, planting a hand on it, making the dead tree sprout leaves with life, and she jumped and cheered and punched the air. “That’s twenty-two for me… How about twenty-two out of forty-five?” She asked Waddles.

The big tired pig flopped over and showed his belly lazily. Mabel awed and fell to her knees to scratch him. “Aw, you’re just a big dummy-dumb. C’mon, why don’t we go see if Grunkle Ford is too busy to hang out. This Mabel’s gotta have some family time.” And she picked up her pet pig and skipped back home.

Bill plunged back onto the ground, dropping Pacifica, who sat on a rock boringly, as Bill glowed red with fire and yelled loudly, “WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!” And soon every tree circling them was no more.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Who’s a cute lil guy? You are!” Gideon said into his hand mirror, sitting at the front desk of the Underworld.

The huge doors flew open as Bill, still red and fiery with anger, entered and grew to the size of a giant before his minion. “YOU SAID YOU TOOK CARE OF THE TWINS!”

“The what now?” Gideon asked calmly.

Bill towered down at the white-haired chubby teenager and bellowed, “Sixer’s brats! The ones destined to stop me from ruling this dimension! You said they were dead as doornails! But the girl is still alive!”

“Yeah, so?” Gideon asked. “The prophecy said both twins had to be there for you to lose. There’s only one. So there. And besides it took you seventeen years to realize Stanford was still dotting on his niece. If anything you suck at keeping up with your own prey.”

Bill shrunk down, shaking with anger and still red, but he had to admit that the jerk was right. “Fine, but the boy, Mason, is dead, right?”

“More or less.”

“”WHAT DO YOU MEAN MORE OR LESS?!”

“He will be when the mortal world is done with him.” Gideon sneered with a crooked smile. “That scrawny twerp doesn’t stand a chance in Thebes.”

“And you know all of this HOW?!”

“It’s fun watching him struggle and lose.” Gideon admitted with a shrug.

“I’m not taking any chances!” Bill yelled and floated away. “We’ve got one year until I can free my friends and take over this dimension! Since I can’t curse Shooting Star into a mortal, I can still kill Pinetree.”

“I’m telling you,” Gideon said, following his boss. “That loser doesn’t stand a chance. I know just who to send to kill him.”

And Bill’s anger melted away as he listened to his minion’s plan and helped make it better.