#but like every other nobility. tries to use her attention on him to piss on the emperor's reputation. ultimate goal is a coup

[isekai-ed]

I'm sorry but the tainted half is ridiculous. The emperor can't even look at her scarred face but can't let her go for some reason?? The ml is a bunch of romance cliches in a trench coat — even his "infamous war dog prince" persona is a cliche! The fl is better off with her lady-in-waiting

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Werewolf: The Apocalypse "Kinfolk: Unsung Heroes" Introduction & Ch.1

"I have normal human fears and frailties, despite my faith."

"I’m terrified I won’t be there when they need me, that I won’t be able to give fully of myself to save them when the time comes. And the price of my failure, for them, would be too high."

"It was like nothing else mattered, nothing else could fill my eyes like the sight of him."

"Now, of course, I realize I was in shock at the time clammy skin, disorientation, that sort of thing."

"That night misted over my senses; even now, it seems more like a vivid dream than anything else."

"I had to watch. I couldn’t turn away."

"That night, I saw I had to protect him. He needed me, and it’s just as simple as that."

"Let’s just say what I know has come in handy."

"The best folks give the most of whatever they can."

"Think about it — would you like to go through childbirth every nine months from age 14 to 50?"

"We’re human beings, dammit!"

"I’ll always do anything I can to help, even if I’m royally pissed; I don’t expect thanks or money, either. But it would be nice to get some respect."

"I'm not alone in saying that I hate being patronized."

"Give an inch, they’ll take a mile" is what some of them think about us."

"The rhetoric a lot of them use sounds like the same crap bigots give when trying to “justify” why women and minorities shouldn’t have equal rights."

"Just once, I’d like to feel like an equal, a partner in all this."

"Ever think about how hard things would be without us?"

"I see by your scowl that doesn’t satisfy you."

"Think of it as normal family responsibilities, magnified a thousand times."

"It’s practically medieval!"

"I mean, it looks like such fun to turn into a wolf."

"There are connections like you wouldn’t believe. Completely outside the law, these people can get dirt on the opposition, perform b&e without leaving a trace and provide muscle no other boss can beat. All they ask is some capital, some boltholes and a little legal cover. Sweetest deal in the world!"

"What do I think about it? Imagine what it’d be like for someone to call you and say you’d missed out on a million dollars because you got one wrong number on the lottery ticket."

"Some are too caught up in the things of humans —chasing after money to have what advertisers insist they can’t do without, living their soap-opera lives and not seeing what the world is really all about. I pity them."

"There is sweeter revenge than death."

"I laugh with joy thinking how your heart will burst should you ever have to face him in battle."

"It’s a great honor to be who I am, who we are. But it’s scary, too."

"Families can quarrel, snarl and cut one another to the quick, but in times of trouble, they’ll stick together."

"God, Allah, Gaia, the Great Spirit or whoever gave us this job, so we have to do the best we can with it."

"Blood also fetters our lives in hatred as well as love, I’m afraid to say."

"I’m not saying this is a fact, but if she was abused, it might explain some things."

"I’m sorry, I can’t quite imagine a moment of sensual passion with someone I don’t love, much less hardly know!"

"In other words, it’s the connections that’re vital, not the money or the mileage."

"Many have wealth, but not all; lineage, not money, is most important."

"That’s a heavy price to pay in a harsh world."

"Self-sacrifice is also important."

"Sacrifice comes in terms of emotional costs, too."

"It’d be pretty stupid for me to become a gun-toting mercenary, for example."

"To put a positive spin on all this, I guess I’d say it’s nice to be needed."

"I admit I don’t really understand what it is or when it’ll be, but many’s the Irish tale where a small oversight wreaked terrible disaster."

"So I got online and made a few phone calls and tried to get the “truth” in as many forms as I could."

"The word “family” has come to mean a lot more things than the 1950s concept of mommy, daddy and two perfect children."

"Raising children is no bed of roses, either."

"Kids love to test their parents and see just how far they can push and still get away with it."

"There’s no way this could be easy."

"Some days, I have to bite my tongue, and that does get old."

"I was just too stupid and blind to see it."

"I always felt like I was split, alone, part of something I couldn’t name."

"Listen, you have no idea what it’s like to watch someone you love slowly lose her mind."

"There are some, well, bimbos."

"You know, the ones that like to control CEOs and topple careers."

"Here, try a piece of this chicken gizzard. I get ’em real cheap down at the butcher shop. No one else seems to want these extra parts. I grill ’em with a little barbecue sauce and honey mustard. Delicious! Thanksgiving’s always the best time, though. Then there’s turkey necks for the takin’!"

"Our families are pretty big, and we figure even the most distant cousin or friend of a friend’s part of the group."

"I’m sure you know, working with people all the time, how far thanks and a friendly smile go when you’re dead on your feet. It’s like the sun’s come out on a cloudy day."

"I mean, some of that stuff is long outdated!"

"It’s more a matter of belief and pureness of spirit, if you ask me."

"The Network also has a lot of splinter groups that organize among youth, educators, environmentalists and so on."

"The Network also has a lot of splinter groups that organize among youth, educators, environmentalists and so on."

"We’re steadfast and steady, yet vibrant and alive, warriors, artists, writers, musicians beyond compare."

"I don’t know if we can save them, but we won’t give up."

"To be tested and accepted by the greatest warriors in the world — no greater honor can we ask for."

"Think of us as the tiny little parts that hold a machine together. Maybe it could function without us, but not without a lot of wear and tear on the system. You get my drift."

"If leader seems weak, I test him. He shows strength, I stop."

"They’re the ones who are causing all the problems by rebelling against the people in charge. They need to settle down and just be content with what they’ve got, if you want my opinion."

"Why should I worry? It’s a clear day. Traffic’s light, but walking’s fine. You get to see where you’re going. I’ll hit a little town ’fore dark and trade a song or story for some food and a piece of floor."

"Revolutions are intolerable and inexcusable."

"The aristocracy attained their positions for a reason, for only the most worthy were chosen to lead, after all. If the

lower classes overthrow the aristocrats, anarchy is the sure result. One need only look at history; Can the Russians truly say their lot improved after they murdered the Romanovs?"

"History has always been a beloved subject to me."

"I pity those souls, displaced by fortune, who are ignorant of their heritage. How can one know who he is without knowing where he comes from? A man — or woman — is the sum of all who came before."

"Money is not the issue; many great families lost their fortunes, yet retain their nobility."

"It’s a poor teacher who doesn’t learn from her student; in this way, the knowledge of both increases."

"Dreams, of course, are the pathways of our souls; here rest our secret desires, fears and hopes."

"You doubt me. You don’t speak against me, but I can see your heart is dubious."

"There’s no greater glory than to serve the destiny of the universe."

"The lacerations looked exactly like the work of sharp teeth, deep into his flesh."

"I won’t go s’far as to say there’s undying loyalty, but we do have a lot of respect for each other."

"Were I as capable as my ancestors, I’d kill you now and never spare a second thought."

"No atonement can replace those lost children."

"Thus far, we have been lucky, but it’s just a matter of time before someone we don’t want sneaks in. It’s not that I want to close ranks by any means; I just wish we paid a little closer attention to who came in from the cold."

"Yeah, yeah, I know you think we’re a dime a dozen. I’d like to believe we’re a little more special than most."

"We’ve built too much for a rotten apple to spoil it all."

"I don’t believe this guy; it seems almost too perfect to be true!"

[cardsthings]

The Kidnapping of Goro Akechi

The courtyard was bathed in a bright orange glow, so much so that the flicker of candlelight drowned out the stars. Goro stared up at the blank sky. In just under an hour, guests would start to arrive. He grimaced at the thought. A full night of mingling with nobles he didn't even know or care enough to recognize. It was a joke. The entire masquerade was nothing but an excuse for disgusting people to indulge in vices without causing a scandal.

"Is something the matter my Lord?" Goro turned to the masked woman in front of him. One of the many servants at the palace who was being forced to attend to the wretched event. He felt sorry for her, no doubt she would have a far worse night than he ever could. Dealing with entitled drunks who thought, no, knew they could get away with whatever they wanted... He suppressed the urge to tell her to run far away. No doubt, it would have ended poorly for both of them. "You seem... distracted."

"Oh no," He carefully smiled. There was no point in letting some random servant know his true thoughts. At best, having someone to listen would be a mild comfort, at worst, word might get back to his father. If he ever got the idea that Goro was ungrateful in any way, well, he didn't want to think about the consequences. "It's just a shame that you can't see the stars tonight."

The woman nodded with a clearly fake smile. Before she could continue the conversation with some meaningless platitudes, the sound of broken glass and his father's angry shouts drew her attention. She left in a hurry to placate the raging king. Goro turned to look, Shido's cheeks were flushed, whether with anger or alcohol he couldn't tell. At least four people were attending to him, trying to prevent an even larger outburst.

Goro quickly turned away when Shido set his eyes on him. He didn't need that sort of attention right now. He just needed to keep his head down and wait for the horrid night to be over.

*****

The hours passed by painfully slow. Even with the minor indulgence of wine, Goro's barely buzzed state hardly soothed how horrendously boring everything was. Maybe if he could let himself go safely... but as it was, every fake smile he had to give to some masked idiot just made him feel like he was dying inside a little more. At least the effect that the flowing booze had on others worked to his favor. The drunk crowd was more interested in gossiping among themselves and harassing the staff who hadn't yet managed to slip away instead of trying to get on the good side of the crowned prince.

Goro spent some of his down time scanning the crowd. He noticed Okumura however, his young daughter was conspicuously absent. Likely because even someone like him knew not to bring her to these sorts of events. Especially not when Goro had heard rumors of her engagement. Although, the other subject of said rumors was right at Okumura's side. Honestly, Goro pitied Haru despite having met her once. From what he could tell, she wasn't yet like the vile nobility that plagued the land. Of course, yet was the key term. No one decent ever rose to power.

As Goro continued to search through the crowd from afar, he caught sight of Shido. His father was predictably drunk. It's not like these parties served much other purpose than to allow him indulge in every vice he could think of under the cover of "high class mingling". When Shido suddenly turned to face him, Goro turned away, hoping that he hadn't been caught staring. It was unlikely he'd be punished for something so simple but still... When his father was drunk he could be particularly petty and unpredictable.

He sighed and gave up on looking at the crowd. Most of them were complete strangers to him anyways. Instead, he entertained himself with thoughts of Shido's downfall. The idea of slitting his father's throat and stealing his crown and throne while he looked on, choking on his own-

"Hellooo~" Goro took a deep breath. The person behind him absolutely reeked with alcohol. It was clear they'd been drinking all night. He pretended not to hear them, hoping that they would go away on their own. "Hey, hey!" The drunk grabbed his shoulder. If they stained the white shirt he was wearing with their filthy hands, he'd be pissed.

Goro turned around with a polite smile as he shrugged off their hand. "Good evening sir." He used a more pleasant voice to address them. What a night it would be if some random drunk ran off to his father to tattle that his son hadn't been the perfect little prince he was always supposed to be.

"You're a cutieee~" Goro tried his best not to glare at the man. He simply gave a polite chuckle.

"I think you're drunk sir." The man grabbed Goro's wrist as he tried to disengage. "Maybe you should have some water and sit down."

"Aww, that's no fun! Come on, why don't we go somewhere..." He leaned in. Goro wrinkled his nose as the smell of alcohol became even worse. "A little more private."

Goro leaned back. Did this man not know who he was? He certainly didn't know who the man was. "As... lovely as that sounds... I'll have to decline. Now, please let go before I-"

"Come oooon!" The man attempted to yank Goro forward but he resisted. Suddenly, the man's expression darkened beneath his mask. "What?! You think you're too good for me or something!"

Goro tried to push the man off him but his grip on his wrist tightened until it was painful. "I'd rather not cause a scene-"

The man yanked Goro in close again, this time succeeding. "Then fucking-"

"Excuse me." Goro craned his neck to see over the drunk man. A handsome young man stood behind him with a confident smirk. "I think you're bothering him."

The drunk whipped his head to see the newcomer, letting go of Goro's wrist as he did. Goro immediately put some distance between himself and the man. "Who the hell're you!?" Goro had similar thoughts. He didn't quite recognize him but he still seemed somehow familiar. Maybe it was the alcohol or the dimming lights that were causing such an effect.

The young man tilted his head with an amused expression. "I'm just a concerned bystander." He looked past the drunk directly at Goro. His eyes widened slightly beneath his black and white mask. "And I'd appreciate it if you left my friend alone."

"Go fuck yourself!" The drunk attempted a sloppy punch but it was easily dodged. The young man used the drunk's momentum against him to knock him to the ground. As the drunk struggled to get back up, the young man walked past him. He stopped in front of Goro and smiled.

"Are you okay?" The young man offered him a gloved hand for a handshake.

"I'm fine. And I had the situation under control." Goro turned away. "You have no idea what trouble you could have just caused for me."

"I'm sorry," Somehow Goro didn't think he was being genuine. "Let me make it up to you."

Goro turned to him with an unimpressed look. "How exactly?" He crossed his arms.

"I dunno, I guess you'll just have to find out." Ren reached out his hand again, a mischievous smirk crossed his face. "I'm Ren by the way, and you are..?"

Ren. Goro looked him over. The bright red gloves served as a pop of color in his otherwise black outfit. It seemed almost more suited to sneaking than to partying... Maybe it was the miniscule amount of alcohol or maybe it was genuine curiosity (Goro wanted to blame the alcohol), but he was tempted. It was something that would let him not focus on the horrendous party going on around them.

"...I'm Goro." He kept his expression even. "It's a pleasure to meet you Ren."

Ren smirked and gave a dramatic bow. "I wasn't aware I was mingling with the prince himself."

Goro huffed and turned away. A strange feeling made itself known in his chest. He really didn't know? Had he really helped without thinking that it could have gotten him a favor from the prince? Or was it that he was lying and simply waiting for an opportunity to use the whole event against him? "There's no need to make such a big deal out of it..."

"Of course not." Goro's eyes flicked back to Ren when he began to speak again. "Why don't we get out of here?"

"I can't exactly leave right now, if my father saw me..." What conclusions would he draw? Ren was about his age and he was undeniably handsome...

Ren smirked. "Not even for a second?" Goro looked him over once again. He looked harmless but looks could be deceiving. What did he want? What was his motive here? "I'm sure I could find a way to sneak you out if you really wanted me too, come on, I'm trying to make things up to you."

Goro sighed. "I suppose a few minutes couldn't hurt..." It was probably a stupid idea but he was curious. There was something strange about Ren and he wanted to know more.

Ren grabbed Goro by the hand. He quickly looked around the courtyard before he pulled Goro in a darker area. He kept Goro closer to the wall, using himself as cover to compensate for Goro's bright white outfit. It didn't take long for Ren to find a door that Goro hadn't even seen in the dimmed lights. He pulled it open and quickly entered right after Goro. After that, they made their way through the halls and out to the front of the palace.

Once outside, Goro took a deep breath of fresh air. He felt a smile creep onto his face as a nice breeze blew through the air. He took a moment to look up at the stars. The lights from the palace behind them still dimmed them but now they were at least visible.

"Much better." Goro turned to Ren. His mask was off and away. In the dim light of the moon, Goro suddenly realized why he had seemed so familiar. Before he could call for help or say anything, he felt a sudden horrible pain explode on the side of his head. He fell to the ground as black spots filled his vision. Vaguely, he could make out Ren walking towards him. Someone else grabbed him while Ren approached.

"Sorry your highness..." Were the last words Goro heard before the world drifted into darkness.

*****

A light breeze blew Goro's hair into his face. The smell of the sea surrounded him. In the distance, he could hear a few assorted voices. As he opened his eyes, he could see a blur of brown beneath his feet. His arms hurt but when he tried to move them into a more comfortable position, he met painful resistance from what must have been a rope around his wrists. His head was absolutely pounding.

"-ink he's awake." Goro looked up. A blurry figure stood above him, their bright yellow hair stood out. Slowly, they came into focus. A large grin was plastered on his face.

"Where-" Goro's question was cut off by a sudden sharp pain in his head. He winced as a shadow blocked out the sun. The sun... how long had he been out?

"Good morning, your highness." Goro's eyes shot up to the source of the familiar voice. Ren stood there with an annoyingly smug smirk. Immediately, Goro tried to lunge at Ren. He would have wrung his neck if he wasn't stopped by the stupid rope. "Nice to see you're doing well."

"Let me go you piece of shit!" He struggled against his restraints to little success. Either he was too weak, the rope was tied very well, or both.

Ren simply laughed at him. "I wasn't expecting the prince to be so vulgar." He leaned down so that he was eye level with Goro. "I think it suits you."

"Fuck off." Goro glared at him, if looks could kill he'd be dead a hundred times over. "Whatever the hell you think you're going to get from me-"

"Don't worry, I don't want anything from you." Ren smiled. "You should actually be back home pretty quick. We already sent word to the king that we have you, as soon as he pays the ransom, you'll be returned completely unharmed."

"You already attacked me last night."

"Mostly unharmed." Ren amended. "But don't worry, nobody wants to hurt you... again. As long as you don't try anything, you'll be fine." He flashed a smile and gave the same bow he had the night before. "You have my word, your highness."

Goro's eyes were drawn to the dagger that poked out slightly from Ren's belt. He struggled against his restraints one more time but found his hands thoroughly stuck in place. He sighed and hung his head in defeat.

"Glad you understand." Akira turned around and addressed his crew. Goro kept his eyes trained to the ground but strained his ears to hear what they were saying. Unfortunately, the sounds of the ocean drowned out their already quiet conversation. It was fine. Everything was fine. Goro could be patient. He could learn what he needed to know. It wouldn't be long before he escaped.

Crossposted on AO3, https://archiveofourown.org/works/32254492

[fallout4holmes]

Nuka-World 6

We had a visitor the next morning. Mags Black left her two cronies at the base of the artificial mountain as she took the lift up herself. I don't know what she said to Gage to get him to stay put on the ground, but he wasn't happy about it.

Holmes had just finished his morning cigarette and a minimal breakfast. He stood as she stepped off the lift, "Ah. Ms. Black."

The raider boss raised an eyebrow, "Miz? It's like you're trying to stand out. You're the Overboss now, Mister Holmes, you get to be on a first name basis with everyone."

Holmes lit another cigarette and said with exaggerated politeness, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Mags smirked, "You can blame it on giving the Disciples The Galactic Zone. I don't know what you're planning, but I want my people to come out on top at the end."

"At the moment, avoiding the animosity of an amusement park full of raiders is my primary concern."

"Bullshit," she said pleasantly. "You're the General of the Minutemen, the frozen vault-dweller that destroyed the Institute. I heard about your almost-war with the Brotherhood too, how you kicked them out of the Commonwealth after destroying their toys." She gestured to me, “Most of the raiders in Nuka-World are from west of here, where the Institute never had a presence. They think your friend is just a nifty robot bodyguard. Creepy, but nothing more. Those of us from the Commonwealth though?” She smiled, sinister, “We know exactly what he is. William and I know better than most. You never did find that janitor that went missing, did you Nick? What was her name, Amelia?”

“Annette,” I corrected, tried not to rise to the bait. “Not usually a fan of kicking folks out beyond the Wall, but in the case of you and your brother I’m glad Diamond City did.”

“Funnily enough, so are we. This suits us much better.” She said it smoothly, nothing but charm, but you don’t last long in my line of work if you can’t tell a bluff when you see one. She turned her attention back to Holmes, “Either your rumored nobility is all an act to get you into a place of power, or you’re going to throw a wrench into the fragile gears of this place. If it turns out to be the first one, you may want to consider showing my people a bit of favor before ugly rumors of synths and interfering Minutemen start circulating the park. If it’s the second one, well. Just know that every Operator in this park is watching.”

Holmes glowered, “I don’t respond well to threats.”

“As long as you respond,” Mags said, and took the lift back down.

As soon as she was down, Gage came up. "Mags pissed?"

"A touch upset," Holmes offered me a cigarette, which I took. "I was a little surprised she remembered you, Valentine."

"Guess it's hard to forget a face like this," I said dryly.

"What the hell are you two goin' on about?" Gage sighed.

"Nothing important," Holmes said, "just the Operators being unhappy with me. They can have the next park, it doesn't matter."

"Giving 'em the next park might look like you were intimidated," Gage said.

"What is the next park?" Holmes asked.

"Figured we'd hit Dry Rock Gulch."

"Hm, the American 'Old West' theme. A fake gold mining operation should suit the Operators, don't you think, Valentine?"

I chuckled, "I think the implication is gonna go over their heads, but we might as well check it out and get it over with."

Holmes agreed and we headed off. We made it to the park’s gate when I heard something moving through the earth, sort of like the sound a mole rat makes just before it leaps out and bites you. Only these weren’t mole rats.

A handful of big red worms with mouths that took up the whole head attacked, surprising the hell out of me and Holmes and earning an annoyed growl from Gage. They weren’t much of a fight, but, “Well that was unpleasant,” I said.

“You never seen bloodworms before?” Gage asked, skeptical.

I shook my head, “We don't get these things back east.”

“Better get used to ‘em, they’re a fucking menace around here.”

Hopefully we wouldn’t be staying long enough for me to get used to them, but I kept that to myself. I glanced around as we entered the park, the Old West frontier outpost aesthetic turned kitsch.

“How’s it go,” Gage sarcastically drawled, “This town ain’t big enough for you and me… ah, never mind.”

Holmes chuckled. “Let’s ask the local law enforcement for information,” he pointed to a protectron wearing a sheriff’s hat.

“Hope y'all are having a good day here at Nuka-World. Ready to saddle up and ride into the old wild west?” the protectron said.

“Great,” Gage grumbled, “More dumb robots.”

The protectron was unperturbed, “I'm the sheriff of these parts, and I need your help getting rid of those no good outlaws holed up in Mad Mulligan's Mine!”

“This is why I hate robots,” Gage huffed. “They don’t even know the world ended, this playtime shit is annoying.”

The protectron’s park personality programming stopped, “Processing: Hostile visitor. Ignore and continue explanation for the sake of the other guests.”

I laughed.

The sheriff continued his job, “The door to Mad Mulligan's Mine is locked up. I got a spare key in a safe by the theater, but wouldn't you know, I plum forgot what the combination to the safe was! You'll need to talk to my three amigos: Doc Phosphate, One-Eyed Ike, and the Giddyup Kid. Prove to them you're tough enough to take on the outlaws, and they'll give you their part of the combination. Good luck, little doggie! And don't forget your complimentary deputy uniform, courtesy of Nuka-Cola!”

The sheriff handed Holmes a costume, who promptly handed it to Gage, who scowled before realizing, “You got a weird ass sense of humor, boss,” and tossed it away. As we walked he asked, “We really gotta do all that, talk to three other robots just to get a key?”

“I suppose we could simply hang a banner and be done with the place,” Holmes said.

Gage shook his head, “Not with the bloodworms. Gotta torch the nest first, otherwise whoever moves in is gonna be pissed to hell you gave ‘em an infested base.”

Holmes made casual eye contact with me. He’d been hoping for a raider-bloodworm showdown.

“I mean,” Gage was still talking, “why do we need this fucking key in the first place? Can’t we just blast the door open?”

“I try not to do anything rash if I can avoid it,” Holmes said, “and surely you don’t think we’ll be bested by a few challenges designed for children?”

“I’m starting to second-guess making you Overboss,” Gage grumbled.

“Perhaps you should have considered that possibility before enthroning a stranger you know precious little about, against his will,” Holmes steely replied.

“I can deal with an ass of a boss,” Gage played it cool, “as long as he gets done what needs to get done.”

We did the tasks for the park protectrons, fighting bloodworms, overgrown crickets, and giant ants along the way. Once we had the key, we headed for Mad Mulligan's Mine… a roller-coaster.

Gage had kept pretty quiet til then, "People actually stood in line and waited for this crap?" He scoffed, "Bunch of suckers."

"Roller-coasters were a popular attraction,” I commented flatly, “though I can’t say I ever saw the appeal.”

Holmes gestured for quiet as we headed into the ride. The lobby held a souvenir shop and the entrance to the tunnels that would lead folks to the boarding area, decorated to look like you’re walking through a mine out of a Saturday morning western. Back then it probably lacked the dead bodies, of course. Holmes and I had heard rumors of traders who hid from Colter’s raiders in Dry Rock Gulch. We found ‘em. Bloodworms saw to it they didn’t have long to enjoy their freedom.

The boarding area was a massive pit littered with brahmin corpses, bulging with bloodworm larvae. In the middle of the pit was the massive queen herself.

“I believe we’ve found the nest,” Holmes said.

“No shit, boss,” Gage scoffed.

“Valentine and I will take care of the queen, you exterminate everything hiding in those brahmin.”

Gage nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”

I might be getting too old for fighting overgrown monsters in caves… but every time I think that, I know it’s not really true. Or it is, and I’m too stubborn to admit it. Anyway, we got the job done but the queen did a number on my leg. At least we know that Nuka-Town’s got a competent mechanic. I could walk, which is saying something, just going to have a limp until whatever got whacked out of place could get realigned. Gage was going to make a remark, but wisely shut up when Holmes glared at him.

We let the Sheriff know the job was done, got paid, which was a nice surprise, and Holmes climbed up to the top of the theater to hoist a flag with a black heart in a bullseye, bleeding gold.

“Gave in to the Operators after all, huh?” Gage said once Holmes was back on the ground. He didn’t sound accusatory, which was kind of weird, just like he was making conversation. Which was also kind of weird.

“If I have to secure Mags Black’s silence with a token gesture,” Holmes said, “then so be it.”

Gage shrugged, “Just let ‘em know you’re the Overboss, not some do-good General.”

“Gage, you conned me into this mess for the purpose of bringing the gangs together, yes? How does strutting around threatening violence serve that purpose?”

“Because we’re raiders?? That’s the language these idiots speak. You gotta treat ‘em right, but make sure they know you can end them at any time.”

Holmes made a considering sound and headed out of the park, “I often thought that if raiders could ever organize, they would be a force to be reckoned with. It seems I was right.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Gage exclaimed, relieved as if Holmes had finally come around. He didn’t know that every time the topic came up, it was followed with a list of possible ways the Minutemen would eliminate that threat.

Unfortunately, none of the hypothetical scenarios ever involved the General and his partner effectively being held hostage, with no way to call for help.

[petersboyfriendsonofthor]

Safe

Mob!Tom x Male Reader AU

Written for @starksparker‘s summer writing challenge. 

Warnings: language, ethnic slurs (antagonist is a real asshole), violence, graphic injuries, mob/gang violence. (If I forgot to add any please lmk!!) (there’s some fluff at the end don’t worry)

Word Count: ~ 3.2k

Safe

“So tell us, mate, how are things with you and Tom?” Your friend Alfie asks as he slides you a pint from down the bar.

You smile, taking a sip.

“It’s been great,” you say, your smile growing wider. “He’s simply amazing. Such a gentleman, always polite, incredibly supportive, funny, charming. Honestly, it would be easier to list the things I don’t like about him.”  

“Alright then,” Alfie says, leaning into the bar with a grin. “What don’t you like about him?”

“Easy. Nothing,” you say. The boys laugh. “He’s the best there is. The past eight months have been the best time of my life. I honestly don’t know what I would do without him.”

“Aww look!” Lorenzo hoots. “He’s blushing!” Your friends had their laugh while you look down into your glass, cheeks red and warm.

“So tell us,” Alfie says once they settle down. “You getting it good in the sack?”

You cough on your drink, nearly spitting all over the bartender. Lorenzo whistles and claps you on the back.

“Our boy has got to be getting it good, right?”

“I… I uh,” you stammer. “I hardly think that's any of your business!”

“Oh come on, mate!” Lorenzo groans. “We tell you about our girlfriends, it’s time you paid us back with some riveting sexploits of your own!”

“I never ask to hear about your sex life, Lorenzo,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder. “You just never shut up about it. ‘Oh Lorenzo, oh oh oh’ Jesus mate, I’ve seen what you’re packing, and it can’t be enough to make her sound like that every night.”

Alife doubles over in laughter while Lorenzo tries to hide his rosy cheeks. He waves over the bartender and orders more beers.

“Why do I have to take all the heat for this?” Lorenzo asks, taking a pint from the bartender. “Alife boasts just as much as I do.”

“Alfie though,” you say, “Alfie’s got quite the member. Must be from his dad’s side.” You and Lorenzo laugh while Alfie feigns offense.

“Y/n, are you insinuating that I have a big dick just cause I’m half black?” Alfie gasps and clutches at an imaginary pearl necklace. “Could that be racism I sense from my dear old friend?”

“Well, you didn’t get it from your mother!” you fire back. “Also, I’ve seen it first hand. Remember when I walked in on you and Sophie last year? I reckon yours is damn near twice as long soft as Lorenzo’s is standing up!”

Alfie burst again into laughter while Lorenzo hangs his head in defeat. You rub his shoulder to let him know you’re just taking the piss, and offer to buy his next drink. Over Lorenzo’s shoulder, you catch the eye of a large man in a wife beater and leather pants at a nearby table. He and his friends are staring at you, and have been for the past few minutes. You peel your eyes away and throw a smile back on your face.

“But really though,” Alfie says, refocusing your attention. “Is he good to you? Doesn’t hurt you, does he? I’ve heard stories about his temper...”

You were touched that Alfie cared so much. You have been friends for years, having met back in middle school. A rumor had spread that you were the son of Al “the Ray”, a notorious Italian mobster who controlled a nice portion of London and had properties all over Central and Southern England. His name comes from the Italian word “re,” which means king. He inherited the many landed properties in England through some old dynastic claims that connected those old families to your ancestors in the Italian nobility. His grandfather, your great-grandfather, started a street gang in London after the First World War. His brother inherited the family lands and fortunes in Italy, so your great-grandfather decided to strike out on his own. Through blood and sweat he carved out a territory for himself in London and called himself “Il Re,” The King. His sons and grandsons expanded, and the kingdom reached its height under your father, Alonzo.

With a family such as that, it was hardly surprising that you did not have many friends growing up. People were too afraid of your father to get close to you, until Alfie. He started sitting with you at lunch, and from then on you were the best of friends. Your father, who had softened somewhat with age, was so delighted to hear you had made a friend that he saw to it that Alfie’s family had protection and money. Alfie was always looking out for you, as you were just as important to him as he was to you.

“No, I think I’ve actually tamed his temper,” you shake your head. “He would never hurt me.  He is so tender and caring, especially the first few times. You know that I’ve never done it before him, so he was sure to be extra careful with me.”

Alfie smiles. “Glad to hear it, mate. Glad to--”

“Oi!” The man at the other table shouts, startling you and your friends. “If you three fags don’t shut up about your cocks, I’ll cut ‘em off and stick ‘em in your mouths.”

The bar falls silent. Everyone shifts their eyes to you three, awaiting your response. The bartender steps in to buy you some time.

“Easy now, friends, I won’t be having a scene in my pub,” he declares. “These young lads are doing no harm, and I won’t have you threatening them.” He gives you a nod.

“Stay out of this, old man,” growls Biker Dude. “Or have you forgotten who runs the place ‘ere?”

A chill runs down your spine. You turn to Lorenzo, who looks equally as terrified. The bikers rise from their table, six in all, and receive some reinforcements from the pool tables, increasing their count to ten. They advance on the bar, taking their time and sizing the three of you up.

“Alfie, you didn’t tell me this pub was in--”

“I didn’t fuckin know it was in Johnny Rast’s territory,” Alfie panics. “I thought his turf started three blocks west. Thought we were still in Holland’s. Shit, I’m sorry mate.”

“Shut up!” Johnny Rast barks. He is only a few feet away now. The rest of the gang stops, but Johnny keeps walking. He leans in a few inches from your face. You can smell the whiskey on his breath. He flips out a switchblade.

“Now, in my pub, we have certain rules about who can and cannot enter,” he explains, sliding the point of the blade up your shirt. “We don’t allow Degos like you and your friend ‘ere. It's hard to get grease stains out of these leather seats.”

You gulp as his men laugh. Lorenzo’s face is as pale as a ghost. 

“We also don’t like fags,” Johnny continues. He brings the point of the blade up to your neck, lightly dragging it over your soft throat and over your jawline. It finally settles in your eye socket, just under the bone. Your eye is closed and he applies light pressure, making you wince. Your heart is thumping so fast you’re sure he can hear it. He gives the knife a twist, threatening to stab out your eye. All it would take is a little more pressure and out it would come.

“Let him go!” Alfie shouts. Loyal, brave, stupid Alfie. Two men near him seize his arms and drag him before Johnny, who pulls the knife away from your eye. You rub it and let out a breath you weren’t aware you’d been holding.

Johnny punches Alfie in the stomach, doubling him over. One of his captors jerks his head back so that he can meet Johnny’s eye.

“You know,” Johnny says, running his thumb along the edge of his knife. “If there’s one thing I hate more than degos and fags, it’s gotta be stinking, half-breed ni--”

Alfie’s head connects with Johnny’s mouth, stopping him from finishing his slur. He slips out of his captors’ grasp and shoves each of them away. He punches Johnny hard across the face and keeps at him. Lorenzo turns and punches the biker nearest him, but is met with a flurry of blows from the other bikers.

You grab your beer mug and toss its contents in the face of a biker in front of you. You shove it into another’s face and smash in some of his teeth. He screams and grabs his mouth, blood and broken glass slipping between his fingers. You kick the dazed and wet biker into the bleeding one, but that is when your element of surprise wears off. The next two bikers block your punch and one shoves his knee into your groin. You shout and fall to the ground, where they rain fists and steel-toed boots onto your writhing body. You can barely make out Alfie get slashed with Johnny’s knife before being thrown to the ground. Kicks came in from every angle. A steel toe hits the bone above your eye, and another shatters a rib. Someone kicks your kidney and you arch your back out of instinct, opening up your balls and belly to more abuse. Every attempt to rise is met with more punishment, and you feel yourself starting to slip from consciousness.

The blows stop at the pump of a shotgun. The bikers look up behind the bar to see the old bartender holding a pump-action 22-gauge bird hunting shotgun. From far away, this wouldn’t do much damage, but up close it’s enough to tear a man’s head from his shoulders.

“I’ll remember this, old man!” Johnny screams. “You don’t have enough shot in there for all of us. You pull that trigger and you’re dead. Leave us to our business.”

“You idiots really don’t know who that is your kicking?”

The bikers look puzzled.

“That’s the Ray’s son you’re beating, and he’s dating Tom Holland. The Tom Holland. Have you not been listening all evening?! Do you have a fucking deathwish?”

The bikers’ eyes widen in shock. They are a small time gang and can in no way challenge Al the Ray and his Italians, and certainly not if the Ray joined forces with the Hollands.

“I--I--I didn’t know,” Johnny stammers, backing away. “Bloody fuck, I’m sorry sirs I didn’t know I didn’t--”

The doors fly open with a crash as a dozen armed men rush into the pub led by a blond haired man a few years older than you. You manage a weak smile at the sight of your friend Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s right-hand man.

“Take the bikers,” he orders. “And bring in petrol. We need to send a message to anyone who thinks they can get away with jumping a Holland, honorary or otherwise.”

“Haz,” you rasp. “Don’t. Bartender...helped us…” you hack up blood, covering yourself and the floor. Haz rushes to your side.

“Y/n, mate, what did they do to you?” He cradles your head in his lap. “Tom’s gonna go ape shit when he sees you like this.”

You snort. “Do whatever to the bikers...leave the pub...bartender...” you throw up “...saved my life…”

“I’m also the one who phoned you lads,” the bartender says.

You hear a groan from your right and see Lorenzo clutching his arm, which is all mangled from his beating. His hair is messed up and his face bruised, but he is well enough to stand with some help. Alfie, on the other hand…

He is lying in a pool of his own blood with a gash across his face. He’s bleeding from multiple head wounds and his hair is matted down with blood.

“Alfie…” you croak. “Alfie get up.”

One of Haz’s men checks on him. “He’s got a pulse, but we need to get him to the Doc ASAP.”

“Get him in a car,” Haz orders. “Gently. Follow us to the manor and get him stitched up. Ryan, help me with Y/n, and Mark, get Lorenzo here to a car. He’s coming with as well.”

Haz and Ryan lift you up and you throw your arms around their shoulders. You can only drag your feet behind you as they move you to one of the black SUV’s parked outside. Haz’s men stuff as many bikers into the trunks of the cars as they can. They’ll receive a different kind of attention where they’re going.

The ride back to the manor was quick, as the Holland gang’s vehicles were escorted by police officers that take bribes from Tom. You rest your head on Harrison's lap, which was now stained with blood and bile.

“Sorry,” you croaked. “I ruined your pants.”

“Hey hey,” he said, gently brushing your hair with his fingers. “It’s not a problem.”

The car is silent for the next few minutes until Haz speaks again.

“Ryan called Harry, who by now has told Tom,” he says. “He’s waiting for you. I’m sure he’ll have your bed all made up for you and Doc will see you as soon as he’s done with your friend.”

You start to cry at the mention of Tom and Alfie.

“Shh shh,” Harrison coos. “Its alright mate, you’re safe now. I got a text from Dan, he says they’ve slowed Alfie’s bleeding. He should be fine once Doc gets to him. You’re safe now. You all are.”

You sniffle and shake your head. “Not that. Tom. I don’t want him t-to see m-me like th-th-this. I’m all battered and weak and I just…”

“Mate, you know Tom loves you. He’ll take care of you. Just hold tight, we’re almost there.”

Holland Manor is a large estate outside the city, fenced in from the road so that unwelcome guests could not enter. The fleet of cars drive past some hills and follow the drive up to the front doors of the manor. An elaborate fountain stands in the green in the center of the driveway loop, and wide stone steps lead to the large double doors of the manor’s entrance. Men hurriedly take Alfie inside to see the Doc, and you’re helped up the stairs.

Tom arrives at the doors just as you reach the last step of the staircase. His face morphs from worried to concerned to angry and back to concerned all in a moment.  He rushes over to you and gently cups your face with his hands, careful to avoid cuts and bruises.

He examines your face. Your left eye is swollen shut. You have a gash on your cheek and forehead that are still oozing blood. Your nose is bent awkwardly and swollen black and blue. Most of your face is bruised or cut, and both of your lips are busted. Your hair is matted with coagulating blood, and your clothes are all torn and dirty. A trickle of blood runs from your right ear down your neck and is slowly coloring your white shirt collar red.

“Tommy…” your hoarse voice cracks and your eyes yet again brim with tears. He takes you in his arms and holds you, muttering “y/n, y/n, y/n.”

He takes Ryan’s place and takes you to his room with Haz’s help. He sets you down on the bed and props your back up with pillows. You’re still crying as he pulls you in for another embrace.

“I got you, love, I got you,” he murmured and kissed your head.

“Erm, Tom,” Harrison says, standing in the doorway. “What should be done about the biker gang?”

Tom turns to his friend, his blood boiling. “I’ll come down there and sort them out.” His hands ball into fists.

You touch his wrist and he softens. “Stay, Tommy. Please. I need you.” You sniffle, tears leaving clean streaks down your bruised and bloody face. Tom returns his attention to you.

“Do what you want,” he says, never taking his eyes off of you. “But leave Rast to me. Also, have Lorenzo identify the ones who did this to my baby. I want them too.”

Haz nods and shuts the door behind him. Tom reaches over to the side table and takes a damp cloth to your face, gently wiping off the dirt and dried blood. He gives a kiss to each area he cleans, and he gently places a kiss to your busted lips. It hurts but you need him, and you deepen the kiss. Tom can taste the blood in your mouth, and he nearly breaks when he runs his tongue over yours, feeling the spot where you had bitten a chunk out of after one of the bikers had kicked your jaw. He breaks the kiss to change into sweats and no shirt, and he carefully removes your shirt as well.

He gasps at the bruises all over your stomach and chest. It was an ugly rainbow of red, blue, purple, yellow, and brown. There was an especially nasty mark left over the bruised and possibly broken rib. “My god, y/n, what did they do to you?”

You recount the whole story, sobbing half the time. Tom pulls you in for a comforting hug, his bare chest warm against your cheek. He kisses the top of your head.

“I’m here now, love,” he coos, letting you sob into his chest. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Please don’t leave me,” you sob. He only holds you tighter.

“I’m not going anywhere, little Prince,” he says, kissing your forehead. You smiled through your tears at his little nickname for you. “I’ve got you.”

“It feels so emasculating,” you sob. “I tried to fight back but I could barely do anything and they just kept kicking me and kicking me an--”

“Shh shh shh. Don’t worry about that now,” Tom said. “I’m with you now, no one is going to hurt you anymore. Listen to me.” He pulled away and gently brushed your tears away with his thumbs. “I’ve got you. I love you, y/n.”

You stared into his caring brown eyes through your own watery ones. You pull him in for a kiss, your body shaking with aftershocks from your previous hysterics.

“Hold me,” you say, burying your head into his chest. He falls back onto the bed, and you cuddle in close to him. He wraps his bare, muscular arms around your battered frame and pulls you close. You can feel his heartbeat through his chest. You place a kiss of gratitude under his collarbone. “Don’t let go. I don’t want to leave.”

“You never have to, love,” he says. “I want you to move in with me. I want to keep you safe, and I need to have you close. Would you like that?”

Your arms squeeze tighter around Tom’s back, soaking in the warmth of his skin. “Yes, Tom. Want you to keep me safe.” You feel yourself starting to cry again, and Tom kisses your head.

“I will. I promise.” The determination and love in his voice were enough to send you to tears once more. Tom starts to hum a soothing tune, and you find yourself drifting off to sleep. The last words you hear before drifting off are a soft “I’ve got you. I love you.”

Tomorrow, Tom would bring hell to the bikers that nearly killed you, starting with the ones who beat you. But tonight, right now, all Tom has on his mind is how much love he has for you and how much he wants to keep you safe. Your father is the feared Il Re, but you are just Tom’s little Principe, and he will do everything in his power to keep you safe.

[katehuntington]

How You & I Will Be - part one

Fandom: Supernatural Timeframe: mid-season 2 Main characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer (mentioned), Ellen Harvelle (mentioned) Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Series summary: When a hellhound case in the mountains goes sideways, Dean and Y/N find themselves trapped in a small cabin, miles from civilization. A serious injury forces the two hunters to come to terms with their true feelings for each other. Rescue is on its way, but will it be in time? Warnings part one: angst, pining, canon typical violence, horror and gore, anxiety attack, nightmares, swearing, description of blood and injury, possible character death. Some fluff, too. Word Count: 3636 words Author’s note: Part one of a five part mini-series, based on songs of Billy Joel.  I’m warning you, this is an angst-fluff-angst sandwich and it’s meant to make you cry. Hoard tissues. @idreamofhazel and @littlegreenplasticsoldier, thank you so much for being awesome betas!  

     No wind, not even the slightest breeze. Evergreens stop whispering, night animals seem to have vanished in the deepest holes of the forest. The mountain has turned into the remains of a dead rock in a matter of seconds. No tree can grow, no life can live. Only pure evil lingers in these woods now. Dean has seen many things over the years, but this beats it all. Completely astounded by the phenomenon, he observes his surroundings, as the church bells in the valley begin to chime. He counts them to estimate the time.

     Three… four… five…

     Y/N draws his attention, backing out slowly and crunching the snow under her boots, as she nervously shines her flashlight around.      “The deal should be off, right?” Dean assumes, hinting at the dead body in the snow, a few yards away.      She looks over, but doesn’t reply to the question.      “Is it me, or is it like 20 degrees colder?”      The hunter looks around, his eyes darting to detect anything that moves, as he adjusts the backpack hanging from his shoulder. It was cold before, but now it feels like Hell froze over. Y/N has a point; something seems wrong. It doesn’t feel like this is over yet. Something dark is hanging over them. Black clouds, packing together before a storm.

     Six… seven… eight...

     This case started out with a bunch of crossroad deals in a quiet mountain village called Darlington. One of the unfortunate ones making deals was Jake Dinon. The desperate father bargained to save his son, who suffered from terminal leukemia ten years back. A noble deed, but nobility doesn’t get you anywhere in Hell. The hunters saved him from that fate, though, by negotiating with the demon that held his contract. Dean and Y/N trapped the thing, threatened to exorcise it if it didn’t break the pact, while Sam kept an eye on Jake and his family. Dean was reading the third verse of the ritual when the black-eyed monster finally cracked, but before it exited its already dead host, the demon muttered something in a language neither of them knew.

     Nine… ten… eleven…

The belltower strikes midnight, then it’s quiet. A new day, a new beginning, but today might very well mean the opposite. Y/N has never felt so out in the open before, so unsafe, so… watched. All of a sudden, a howl echoes through the valley. Both freeze to the ground as they look at each other, eyes widened.       “That ain’t no coyote,” Dean gulps.

     Chills run up and down his spine as Dean watches the horrified expression on Y/N’s face. He has heard the stories, it’s the last thing you hear before being ripped to pieces. Dean lifts the shotgun, engages the barrel breech lever, then opens the break action and discards the empty casings. Without taking his eyes off the long shadows of the forest surrounding them, he digs two shells from his pocket, pushes them into the barrel and brings it back up.      “Here.”     His gaze meets hers again and Dean hands over the weapon, since her sawed off malfunctioned earlier.      “No, Dean. C’mon, you’ll be unarmed,” she objects.      “Doesn’t matter. I much rather be sure you’re locked and loaded. Just uh…” he glances into the woods again. “Do me a favor? If you do see something coming at me, shoot it?”      She swallows down a lump in her throat.      “Will do,” she promises.      The howl repeats several times, seeming to come from all directions. The silence returns, but then Dean’s eyes grow wide as they land on a black form on top of a large boulder. A pair of red orbs stand out in the darkness of the woods.      “Are you seeing this?” he whispers breathlessly.      Y/N just stands there, frozen in fear with her gun pointed down. Oh, she sees it, alright. She stares into the hypnotizing eyes, flames burning in them. Holding her breath she tries to move, but can’t. Like a deer in headlights she is unable to bolt, unable to lift the gun and defend herself. The last time she felt so overcome was during her first hunt, but now all those years later, it happens again.            Then the creature steps from the shade, and Dean can solemnly swear he has never seen anything animal-like so evil than what is standing before him right now. The beast is big, about the size of an Irish wolfhound. It looks like one too, but its dark fur is anything but soft and cuddly. The hair on its back stands straight up, like splinters of obsidian. Growling, it halts, blood dripping down from his razor sharp teeth. Dean calculates the risks of every move he could make. Shooting the damned dog will only piss it off. The one thing he does know is that they need to get the hell out of here. Without taking his eyes off the monster, he reaches for his companion. His fingers slip around her shaking arm, then he jerks her from her trance.      “Run!”            As if they are both being chased by the devil himself, the hunters flee down hill through the forest, trying to avoid crashing into trees and rocks. In the chaos, Dean lets go of her hand. He monitors Y/N constantly, though, not letting her out of sight as she appears and disappears between the evergreens several yards ahead. Then he makes a mistake; he looks over his shoulder, realizing that it isn’t just one hellhound that chases them, there are at least three. He rights himself and cusses. Shit, we are so fucked!            Then Dean spots it, a small hunter’s cabin a bit further down the hill. Their safe house, their refuge. Dean leaps over a gap and continues running as fast as he possibly can, trying his very best not to trip, knowing that a single misstep will lead to certain death. Y/N reaches the small open space in front of the cabin first, when she’s tackled from the side by a hound that seems to come out of nowhere. Overpowered by her attacker, she slams into the the icy surface and drops her only weapon. Desperately she tries to fight it off, but she doesn’t stand a chance.      “Y/N!!”      Dean dashes towards her as fast as he can, but he’s not in time. The hellhound drags her towards the treeline and tears up her leg, pulling a scream of agony from the huntress. Dean’s heart stops then and there.      “NO!!!” he shouts.      “Dean!!” she cries out desperately as she hopelessly digs her fingers into the snow, failing miserably to catch grip as the creature pulls her into the darkness.

     In a matter of a second he’s with her, leaps for the shotgun, uses the momentum of his dive to position the two barrel against his shoulder, rights himself and fires. A loud yelp escapes the hellhounds mouth and for a brief moment she seems free. Quickly Dean hooks his arms under hers and unceremoniously drags her onto the porch and inside the cabin. The door locks just in time, because the moment after he hastily pushes it in lock, an incredibly strong force almost barges in from the other side.      “Son of a bitch...” he curses under his breath.      He tries to find the bag of goofer dust in his pocket while using all his strength to stop the door from tumbling over. When he finds the powerful magic dust, he pours the grey particles on the doorstep.      The moment the line connects both doorposts, the supernatural force is gone. Out of breath Dean holds the door with both hands flat on the wood, making sure the dogs won’t come through. Jesus fucking Christ, that was way, way too close.

     He hears Y/N squirm behind him and when he turns around, she attempts to crawl to the opposite wall, leaving a smear of blood on the wooden floor.      “Y/N? Fuck, sweetheart…”      Worried sick, Dean hastens to her, helping her sit up against the back wall.  Quickly he takes off his backpack, then his leather coat and his denim jacket. The last one he folds into a ball and applies on the wound with pressure in order to stop the bleeding. She barely feels the pain, though, adrenaline still pushing through her veins by her rapidly beating heart. While the creatures outside keep barking like mad, her focus darts from one window to the other, completely terrified. There’s no way they could come in, though. Every possible entry of this little cabin is sealed with the grey sand-like dust. The hunters made sure that if shit hit the fan, they would have a place to retreat.      Dean needs to keep pressure on the wound, but he can tell she’s losing the battle with her anxiety. He takes the sleeves from the blood-stained jacket and uses them to tie the bundle of clothing to the wound. Still she doesn’t respond to his actions, having other issues to deal with. Breathing for one, because whatever she tries, she can’t get air. Quivering even worse than before, she silently begs Dean for help.      As if her heard her, the hunter looks up from his work after tightening the knot. “Y/N? Easy, it’s okay now.”     Tears stream down her face and mix with the blood spatter on her cheeks, her respiration in overdrive. Dean doesn’t need to be a psychologist to see that she’s having a panic attack.     “Hey hey hey... Look at me. Calm down,” he reaches for her hand and squeezes it. “I’m right here. Take a breath.”     Upset, she keeps searching for a possible way for the bastards to get in. When one of the hounds outside howls, she almost jumps out of her skin and can’t help but cry, anxiety overwhelming her.      “It’s okay. It's alright,” her friend hushes her. “It’s going to be fine. They can’t get in. I won’t let them get in. You’re safe.”     Frightened, she tries to find protection with her hunting partner, and he answers her by pulling her close. Softly and calmly he caresses her back as she crawls into his sheltering arms. Y/N’s not the only one trembling like a leaf, because Dean can’t stop shaking either. Horrific images from moments ago are stuck on repeat in his head, images of that monster dragging her away from him, blood poisoning the pure snow and the sound of absolute agony erupting from her throat. The hunter closes his eyes, trying to banish the haunting memories from his mind. Fuck, I almost lost her! He hugs her even tighter and sighs.     She struggles to breathe, unable to fill her lungs with oxygen. Her entire body is quaking, yet her skin feels clammy. Dean never imagined that the powerful and fearless huntress could turn into this fragile thing she is right now, but he gets it. He completely gets it, because he’s scared shitless too.     He keeps hushing her, running his fingers through her hair now, reminding her to calmly breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth, as he waits for the panic attack to pass. Slowly her respiration gets back to normal and over the course of several minutes, she’s able to gain control again. When she distances from him slightly, he dips his head to make eye contact, but she’s avoiding his gaze.       “Don’t ever tell Sam this,” she requests, wiping her tears and runny nose with her sleeve. “He’ll laugh his ass off.”       Dean smiles, comforted; she’s back.            But as she slowly gets past her fear, the pain begins to set in. When she flinches and directs her attention down to her leg, Dean does the same. He folds the soaked fabric away, revealing the wound. The hound dug in deep; it’s bleeding badly. Dean takes off his leather belt and carefully lift her leg in order to slip the belt underneath.      “Y’know, I normally don’t remove all my clothes on the first date,” he jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.      He earns a scoff and a glint of a grin.      “Don’t think you’ve ever known a girl this long without taking your clothes off,” she responds, her voice still shaky.      He corks up his eyebrow and shoots her a look. She’s not wrong, but Dean has his reasons for that. Not that he doesn’t find her attractive. No, it’s quite the opposite, actually. The tough hunter, who’s life motto is ‘no strings attached’, feels more for her than a man of his profession should. Whatever is going on between them, it’s growing stronger with every moment he spends with her. He tried to fight it, he tried to ignore it, he tried to push it down, but all his methods have been unsuccessful. Hell, he slept with numerous girls just to prove to himself that he still liked being the bachelor, that he still liked to pick up gorgeous women. But ever since he found her at the end of the bar, he lost those urges. All he wants is Y/N and it's scaring the shit out of him. He has to watch over Sam, that's his legacy. Another liability would only endanger them both. What if he ever had to choose? What if some demon would put it up to the test; Sam's life or Y/N's? Dean can't allow it to get that far. Either way, giving in to his feelings will either leave Y/N behind with a broken heart, or him. Staying apart would be less painful. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

     Carefully, Dean pushes her torn jeans up her leg a little so that he can work. The hellhound ripped the flesh off the bone from below the knee all the way down to her ankle. By the looks of it a vein got damaged, because there’s blood everywhere.      “Shit, Y/N… Nasty wound”, he makes a discontent noise with his mouth.      She looks at him, fear in her eyes, a frown of concern puckered on her forehead, and Dean kicks myself mentally. Good job for scaring her, asshat, he scolds at himself.      “Nothing I can’t fix, though. You’ll be alright,” he promises.      She nods bravely, forcing a smile. Then she hints at the belt.      “Pull it.”      For a brief moment Dean looks her in the eye, then he tightens the belt just above the laceration. Although it hurts, she doesn’t make a sound. Pain, she can handle. Hell, now that’s a whole other department. Once Dean has secured the self-made tourniquette, she rests her head against the wooden wall behind her, still shaky. Silently, he gets ready to patch up his partner, grabbing the backpack and rummaging through it, until he finds what he’s looking for; a first aid kit. He grabs a bottle of disinfectant solution, which he tips over as he presses some cotton wool on the opening.      “This is gonna hurt,” he warns, looking at her sympathetically.      Carefully, he proceeds to clean the wound, using all the disinfectant that’s left in the small bottle. Y/N flinches under his touch, but stays strong. Clenching her jaw she breathes through the pain, her eyes closed as she thinks of some place nice. It takes about an half an hour before the laceration is properly closed up.      Dean sit back on his heels. “Not bad, uh?”      She nods approving. “Not bad at all.”

     Staying still for over thirty minutes has brought out another enemy; the cold. Air forms clouds in front of their faces every time they exhale, as a thin layer of ice is starting to form on the inside of the windows. Now that her adrenaline isn’t pumping any more, shock, fatigue and hyperthermia are lurking around the corner. Her bottom lip is trembling, and she feels like sleeping.      “Here.”      Dean is left in nothing but a long sleeved henley and a pair of jeans, but he offers her his warm leather jacket either way. She leans forward a bit, allowing him to hang it over her shoulders, after which he wraps her in the several-sizes-too-big clothing. A small smile forms on Dean’s lips; she looks cute in it.      “Thank you,” she says genuinely.      He only nods, the kind that says ‘Don’t mention it.’      “We’ll get out of here,” he adds.

     Reassuringly, Dean gives her arm a little squeeze, after which he pulls the satellite phone from the backpack. He doesn’t even bother to try his cell, he hasn’t had a signal since they left the valley.      “Who are you calling?” Y/N asks, after Dean presses the digits and puts the large device to his ear.      “The calvary.”      Tensed, he waits for his little brother to pick up as the connection is put through. The call will show up as ‘No ID’ on Sam’s display, so Dean prays that he won’t decline it. C’mon Sam, pick up.      “Hello?”      Dean breathes out relieved, his shoulders relaxing the moment he hears Sam’s voice.      “Hey, Sammy. It’s me.”      “Dean,” he sighs, too, seemingly glad to hear he’s alive. “I tried calling you.”      “Yeah, my phone is useless up here. Good thing we packed this astronaut thing,” he grins.      “Everything okay?”

     The grin disappears and Dean swallows down the lump in his throat. For a second he looks at Y/N, who sits up against the wall, one knee pulled to her chest and her arms around it. She looks like a shot deer, the poor thing. Wounded, in shock, frightened. The tension returns to Dean’s posture, his jaw in particular.      “No. No, not at all,” he replies. “We’re in deep shit, Sam.”      “Why? What’s going on? What happened?” Sam stammers, clearly worried.      “We - uh… We trapped the demon before midnight and tore up Jake’s contract, but it casted some kinda spell before it left. I think it set his hounds loose,” Dean tells him.      “But… Jake went home to his family. He never saw a hound.”      “That’s because the dogs aren’t after him anymore,” he explains, turning towards the window, watching the gatekeepers of Hell circling around the cabin, their red eyes glowing in the night. “They are hunting us, Sam.”

     Static cracks the line, only audible because the youngest Winchester fell silent.      “Y-you can see them?” Sam asks staggered.      “Yeah, we both can,” Dean confirms, watching the supernatural beings. “Ugly motherfuckers, I tell ya.”      “How?” his brother tries to wrap his head around the situation. “How is that even possible? You’re not under contract!”      “Yeah, well, those Goddamn pitbulls really don’t seem to give a rat’s ass about that,” Dean returns, gesturing at the demonic dogs in frustration, even though Sam can’t see it. “We barely made it to the safe house.”      “Did you get hurt?”

     Another silence. More static. Dean looks down at the floorboards, biting the inside of his lip. Just the plain fact that he has to admit to his sibling that Y/N was injured, is something he finds difficult. What makes it even worse is that he feels like this happened on his watch. He held on to her and he let her go. If this ends bad, that will be on him. No matter how hard, he needs to be honest with Sam. He has to know how urgent this is.      “I didn’t… Y/N did.”      Dean sighs as he rests his forearm above his head against the window, careful not to disturb the goofer dust. He keeps his voice down as he continues, not wanting to upset his partner in the same room.        “She got hurt bad, Sam.”       “How bad?”      “It’s her leg. Damn mutt got her pretty good. I stitched her up for now, but she lost a lot of blood. Plus it’s freezing cold up here, we don’t have much food and... She needs medical care, Sam. Fast,” he elaborates, helplessness and desperation seeping through the words.  “You have to find out a way to kill them. Call Bobby, call Ellen, I don’t care who you involve - ”      “You can’t kill hellhounds, Dean.”      “No, you don’t understand. You have to find a way to kill them”, Dean repeats slowly, making sure his younger brother understands.

     The realization sinks in and Sam begins to grasp the magnitude of their problems.  How unlikely it is that they will make it out of there alive. Sammy is smart, he’s read plenty of books on Hell and its creatures. He knows the stories too, what the hounds are capable of. How they leave their victims, or what’s left of them.      “Hurry it up, will ya?”, Dean tells him, adding: “No pressure or anything.”       Sam scoffs. “Yeah, right.”      The oldest of the two smiles against the phone. Just hearing his little brother’s voice, knowing he will always have his back, comforts Dean. That reassurance fades, though, the moment he stares outside into the dark forest again. One of the hellhounds has spotted the hunter and stares him down. The thing doesn’t move, just observes, waiting for an opening, a chance to tear him apart. The hair on the back of Dean’s neck stands up, and it’s not from the cold.           “You do know what happens when these things catch you. You don’t just die….”      Sammy doesn’t have to fill in the blanks, Dean knows exactly what he’s trying to say and so he finishes his line.      “You go to hell.”      Sam sighs, accepting the huge burden on his shoulder. Y/N and Dean, they are trapped, with no way of getting out of there by themselves. It will come down to Sam to figure something out. There’s got to be a way. There always is. Dean believes that, and Sam believes it too. A short silence follows, after which the oldest sibling ends the conversation.      “See you soon, Sammy.”

Thanks for reading the first part! Don’t hesitate to let me know what you think. This series is already finished, so I expect to update soon. Stay tuned for more!

Read part two here

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[hardobservationpeanut-blog]

Misbehavior Part III ( Erwin x Reader )

Part I, Part II

Warnings: As usual, bad language, and probably some mistakes.

Enjoy!

I stopped in front of Commander Erwin's office. I knocked.

- State your name and business. - A very serious voice was audible from the other side of the door.

-It's me. I mean... Cadet [Y/N], sir! You wanted to see me!

- Come in, cadet! - I entered with a big smile on my face. Tried to look  self assured.

- Good morning, sir! Did you sleep well, because I slept like a baby!

- Considering that I slept on a couch half as big as I am... - I glimpsed at the couch and then back to Commander Erwin. He is very tall.

- I'm sorry, sir! I wish I could make it up to you somehow. Does your back hurt? I was told that I give  amazing massages! - Without thinking, I leaned forward, my face becoming on the same level with his, to put my hand on his shoulders, gently applying pressure with my fingers in circular motions on the crook of his neck. I saw him shiver and goosebumps appeared on his arms.

- Cadet [Y/N]! This is very inappropriate to do to your superior! - He warned me loudly. His exclamation made me jump away from him. I tripped on a chair and sat right in it.

- I'm sorry, sir! I wanted to help! I feel bad for yesterday's events and I'm thankful for you taking my side! - I tried to explain myself, but then he hit his desk with his palm, making me shut up.

- Cadet, from now on you talk only when allowed! - I nodded. - I did not take your side! You had no right to lecture Captain Levi! He is your superior, and you are his Cadet! You have no discipline, nor respect for any of your superiors. Others has been complaining about you. You know, in a couple of weeks the new cadets will be sorted to squad leaders. We have meetings to discuss this matter every week, and so far there is not one Squad Leader who would want you in his/her squad! You don't listen, you always talk back, making jokes, being sarcastic. You work twice as much then the others, because of all the punishment you have to fulfill, and still your performance is not good enough! Most of the trainers say it's because you take the whole training lightheaded.

-But..

-Did I let you talk? - He slammed his fist to the desk. - And what is this position, since when do you sit down when you're at your commanders' office? Do you think we're friends?! Do you think we are chit chatting accompanied with a nice cup of tea?!

-No, sir! - I jumped up from the chair and saluted.

- Take my orders seriously! Take every order seriously! I spent my morning reading your papers from the Cadet Corps. You were ranked in the last 10 cadets, even though you participated in every additional mission. Then I read about your origins. You are from the Royal Capital! Your parents are nobilities, in a very high position. Why are you here? Is this a game? Are you trying to prove something, or just having fun?!

He stopped talking. He was really pissed. His usually calm facial features now turned into murderous look. I looked into his eyes, not knowing whether I'm allowed to talk or not.

- You are allowed to talk. - He sighed.

- Thank you, sir! And I don't think this is a joke!

- Then why are you acting like a 5 year old on a playground?!

-Because I wasn't raised well, sir.

-You came from a rich, respected family.

-Yes. That only means that I'm spoiled and well educated. They didn't pay much attention on me. I spent most of my free time - and later my school years too- on the streets.... sometimes underground. I had a lot of fun back then.

- That doesn't explain why are you here. Why don't you continue your fun, spoiled life in the safety of Wall Sheena?!

- I grew up, sir.

- No, you didn't. I want real answer! The truth! Now, Cadet!

- My parents... wanted me to marry... someone. And... this was the only way I could run away without being disinherited.

- With this kind of attitude, the only thing you will achieve is to get yourself killed. Either eaten by a titan, or beaten to death by Captain Levi. Is that your goal?

- No, sir!

- Then I suggest you start taking the trainings and the orders seriously, if you don't want to end up as a chew toy!

-Yes, sir!

- Dismissed! Don't forget our 4pm meeting with Captain Levi!

- Yes, sir! - I broke my salute and left Commander Erwin's study. After I left, I had to stop for a minute to catch my breath. I've never been scolded like this, ever. I was scolded, but I never cared. The fact that Erwin's words actually reached my brain, and didn't go in one ear and out the other, actually surprised me.

After I pulled myself together, I went outside to our first training session. As I walked on the corridor, Squad Leader Mike was coming in my way. He gave me a lazy grin and raised his hand. I smiled a little and gave him a high five. We didn't talk, didn't even stop walking. It felt good.

In the field I met Mikasa, Eren, Jean,  Sasha and Connie.

-Hey.. - I tried to smile at them.

- Hey! How was with the Commander? - Sasha asked me. Eren came closer and put his hand on my shoulder.

- Are you okay, [Y/N]? - Eren asked me. He seemed worried.

- I'm fine. I just found out that I'm a terrible cadet, awful subordinate and even worse person.

- Whaaaaaat? - Sasha said awkwardly.

- You're not a bad person.... - Eren said smiling encouragingly. - And a great cadet! You proved that in our missions! You saved my ass countless time.

- That's true. - Said Mikasa. That made me believe in what Eren said.

- But you're an awful subordinate. Maybe that's why your ranking is the worst. - Said Jean.

-Also true. - Said Mikasa.

-What? Am I that bad?!

- Yes... - Sasha nodded rapidly.

- And you all knew? And didn't tell me?

- [Y/N]... We thought you know about it! - Eren said shyly. He let go of my shoulder.

- I had no idea....

- And what do you think, why did you get so much punishment? - Jean asked.

-Well... It's not like I was the only one! I wasn't doing them alone.

- Yes, but... Didn't you notice, that every time you were with someone else? - Mikasa asked.

- Uhmmm.... now that you mention it...

- Cadets! If you have time to talk, then you have time to run! - We heard our trainer shouting, and we stopped talking. I was thinking of what we discussed. Not just the commander, but my friends think that I'm not good enough to be a soldier. Sure, they didn't say it like that but... They are right. So it begins. I have to take this seriously.... no more jokes on the field. No more laughs and acrobatic performances on the 3-DMG.

-Cadet [Y/N]! Stop daydreaming and start running, the others are already a minute ahead!! - I saluted and started running. Oh yeah.... and no more daydreaming.

I took all the trainings seriously. By lunch time I was exhausted. After we took a shower, Sasha, Mikasa and me sat to our usual table. Eren, Armin and Connie was already there.

- Sasha. You won't believe what Connie did.... - Eren started but Connie hit his leg. His face turned deep red.

-Shut up, Eren! - Connie murmured.

-What happened? - Sasha asked stuffing her face with mashed potatoes.

- Well he sneaked into the kitchen and.... - With that, Eren could get Sasha's undivided attention.

-And??? What? What then, did you take something? Meat? Salami? Oh. My. God! You're killing me Connie, talk! - Sasha got hyped up, and started to shake Conny by his arm.

- Geez, Sasha. Give him some space. - I laughed.

- Stop talking so loud. - Mikasa, the sound of the reason in our group, interrupted us. - [Y/N] is attracting enough attention already, there is no need to shout out your illegal activity.

- I took wine and cheese. - Connie whispered.

- Uhhhh yaaaaaay. - Sasha screamed in happiness. - Today we celebrate!

- What do we celebrate? - Jean just arrived, and took a seat next to me. - That [Y/N] is still alive? Which, I think, is a miracle! - He smirked at me. I just put my tongue and made a funny face. He laughed and put his hand over my shoulder.

- Hey! Horseface! Take your dirty hand off of [Y/N]! - Eren shouted again.

- She doesn't seem to mind it. - Jean wiggled his eyebrows, and I started to laugh awkwardly. I took his hand and freed myself.

- See, she hates it, so stop touching her, or else.. - Eren was shouting, and the wrangling continued between Jean and Eren. Mikasa observed this with disappointment.

- Hey, Mikasa. - I leaned close to her. - Can I ask for a favor?

- Depends...

- Can you help me train? Can I join you for the morning runnings and stuff like that? I need to pull myself together.

- Why all the sudden?

- The commander told me that no one wants me in their squad. In this rate I might get fired from the Scout Regiment.

- Okay. I'll help. - She said and continued eating. I was quite surprised. Mikasa doesn't really like company. Except for Eren and Armin of course.

- Thanks. - I smiled.

- Whatever.

We continued to eat, as Jean and Eren continued to fight. Soon Reiner and Bertholdt joined us, and changed the subject. We gladly played along. After we finished eating, Sasha and I went to our room.

- In 15 minutes I have to attend in front of Commander Erwin and Captain Levi. Both of them are extremely pissed, and I'm desperate. I don't want to be kicked out!

- You won't. This is the Survey Corps, they need people. Clumsy ones, even.

- Ouch. That hurt.

- I don't know why, I wasn't talking about you! You might not see it, [Y/N], but you could be an excellent soldier. If you would put your mind to it. Eren wasn't lying. You saved our life a thousand times.

- I'm certain, that it wasn't that many times! And it was mostly pure luck!

- No, it wasn't! You are really sharp when comes to emergency.... or prank. And you have some great skill in fighting to, when it is a life or death situation! You just have problems with following orders... or taking trainings seriously.

- Dude. I know that, the Commander made it really clear to me this morning.

- Good. Than you know what you have to do. - I was looking at her confused. - Geez. - She flicked my forehead with her finger. - Just. Do. What. They. Say. And. Don't. Talk. Back. - She flicked my forehead each time she said a word.

- Yes, sir, yes! - I saluted and laughed. She joined me, and hugged me tight.

- Save it to the Big Brother.

- Ew. You have to stop calling the Commander Big Brother. He's clearly a Big Daddy. - I wiggled my eyebrows. She burst out laughing.

- You wouldn't mind him being your Sugar Daddy, would you?

- Who wouldn't? - I stepped to the mirror and arranged my uniform. - Wish me luck, Sasha. I'll need it.

- Good luck, [Y/N]. And don't forget, today we party!

- Uhh... why do I feel like this party of yours will be a disaster?

- Because it'll probably end up like one. But you know... we only live once. So until Big Daddy doesn't catch us and spanks us, we should live our life to the fullest.

- Great. Now I'm going to get scolded by two really angry, intimating men, while I'm horny, thinking about very hot, spanking stuff. - I fake smiled.

- You go, girl. - Sasha slapped my ass with a big evil smile on her face. And I left the room smiling at my friend and her silly mind.

As I closed our door, Captain Levi's door opened. He stepped out, closing it behind him. He was looking at me.

- What are you looking at, brat? - He asked me, when I was frozen, staring at him in terror. I saluted instantly, and turned my head away.

- Sorry, sir!

- You are? - He grabbed my jaw quite roughly, and made me look at him. He leaned really close, I could feel his breath on my face. Our nose were almost touching. - You look at me very closely, brat! Don't fucking turn away from me! You better memorize my face from inch to inch, because this will be the last thing you'll see. I'll make sure of it!

-Well, aren't you two cute together? - Levi turned his head to the source of the voice. I didn't dare look away from Levi. I just stared at his strong jawline, and the edge of his perfectly cut hair.

- Mind your own damn business, Mike!

- Look at her, you scared the living shit out from that poor cadet! - Levi looked at me, his eyes burning out my sight.

- Good. I hope she's scared to death, I hope the memory of my face will hunt her in her nightmares too. I hope she won't be able to sleep without being scared shitless of this face! - He growled, with a grimace of disgust on his face.

- Okay, now kiss her. - Mike whispered, leaning down to our level, to be closer to us.

-What? - Levi said, looking at him.

- Come, on. Kiss her. A good old hate sex will resolve anything. - Mike was out of his mind.

-What? - Levi said again.

-Ew. - I said in the same time with Levi, also looking at Mike with disbelief. Now both Levi and Mike was looking at me. Mike with a great amusement on his face, Levi with anger.

-Ew???? - Levi asked me.

- Noo... what I meant...is Whaaat? - I looked back at Mike scared, asking for help with my expression.

- Ewwww??? - Levi asked me again and turned my head to face him.

- I'm sorry! That's not what I meant, not eww, not eww, more like...Yay? Or... uhm... Hurray?- I was looking at his face, trying to figure out how should I react, but deam, he just got angrier. I heard Mike laughing. Levi looked like he will strangle me in a minute.

- Ehem... - Erwin's fake cough interrupted us - Why aren't you two in my office?!

Levi murmured something about eyebrows and headed to Erwin's office, dragging me with him. I looked up at Erwin's face to check if he's angry, but he looked rather... worried. Levi practically throw me inside Erwin's study, and followed me closely. I heard Erwin talk to Mike.

- Mike, don't make this worse, I'm going to end up sleeping in my couch again, guarding Cadet [Y/N].

- If you don't want to, you can always send her to my bedroom. I'll take good care of her.

- Stop joking around, and go find Hanji. I heard she returned from her titans. Tell her that I need to speak with her after I finished with these two idiots.

- Tch. - Levi rolled his eyes in annoyance. - Who does he call an idiot. - He murmured and pushed me to the middle of the room. - Stand straight, cadet, your superior is in the room. Show some respect for once! - I saluted quickly, facing Erwin's desk. I heard him closing the door.

- Let's begin, then. - Erwin sat to his desk. I took a big breath, Levi set down to the couch.

To be continued...

You can follow the story here too.

[shardclan]

Thunder's March was a relief to the eyes of travelers on Trader's Walk. 

Impressive, given it suffered from the same deficit in humor or warmth that marked the Stormcatcher's spires. While the spires and rods out on the mesa stood tall and had obvious purpose, Thunder's march was a squat and ugly building that roughly resembled an enormous molar cast in copper and left out in the rain to tarnish on the cliff edge. The bridge it guarded was far older, but had the grace to have clear signs of upkeep and fortification to keep it structurally sound.  Only the gates and the way-markers matched the visions of sleek machinery some dragons imagined when they thought of spark technology--all polished silver-black tungsten with lightning-white circuit marks that buzzed with the indifference of yet-undisturbed wasps.

It wasn't as though the inside of the building was any better. Inside the building was shelter, but there was also Margravine Maka, a woman with the face and temper of a hacksaw. Anyone else might have buckled under the intensity of a dozen caravans screaming and threatening in response to the news that entry to Noon Point had been banned for unfamiliar faces, but Maka couldn't even be bothered to spit at them. She didn't much care that her title technically made her Aphaster nobility, but she took it seriously the she was the final word in who could and could not pass into Aphaster territory.

So it understandably raised every spine on her body when shadow magic flowed over the sealed doors to the mainland and undid all the complicated locking mechanisms. They swung gently on their hinges with a gentle hiss of released pressure, and in came a very short pearlcatcher dressed mostly in black. She had a moon-pale complexion and carried the mild scent of sizzling ozone and crisp air typically associated with the Starfall Isles. Her eyes were covered, but she honed in on the head knight who stood in a half-ready, half-nervous stance with arcane magic rapidly fading from her claws.

"Paradise?" the strange pearlcatcher guessed. "Is that you? I'm having a shade of a time with these humanoid glamours. Get all these people across the bridge."

Even as the merchants rose up like a tide ready to flood Noon Point, Maka heaved the doors shut again and shouted through the hall. "No one goes anywhere!" She pointed aggressively at her uninvited guest. "Except you. Use of non-mundane magics are outlawed in public areas. You can spend a night in the icebox with Penitence."

Paradise stepped in frantically, her eyes wide and she tried her most disarming but clearly nervous smile. "Hold it, hold it, I think we've just got off on the wrong foot here! Omen, this is Maka, she's our border control. Maka this is Omen." She leaned in and stressed pleadingly: "From the coven."

"A witch..." Omen smiled, which only irritated Maka more. "That's well and good, but nobody here enters Noon Point. Queen's orders."

"Loyalty is commendable trait in a border noble," Omen said politely, with just the right tone of voice to avoid sounding sarcastic. "But you mustn't be blind. Telos gave those orders because of the recent..." Her lip curled. "Issue with the Hewn City, is that not so?"

Maka's expression cooled. She crossed her arms, but her expression was attentive, if grave. "Go on."

"The coven has reason to believe the wretched thing in Hewn City will move soon, and it will move violently. My primary duty is to defend the new spirit, but I cannot do that and defend these caravans." The shadows in the room moved on the edge of both their fields of vision, and there was the gentle hiss of the pressure locks on the door releasing again. "I ask once more: Get as many people as you can to the mainland."

Maka glanced over Omen's head at the faces beyond. A few of the ones at the front had heard the talk, or half-heard it, and she could see the seeds of panic taking root. Even if she closed the door and adhered to the letter of Telos' word, she would have a riot on her hand within the hour. With a gruff rub at her chin, she gently pushed Omen aside and barked out orders.

"Anyone seen pushing or trampling goes to the back! Get across the bridge quickly, quietly, and efficiently! DO NOT initiate trade or leave Noon Point until you have been cleared or your belongings will be confiscated! You're not getting out of a border check, you're only getting out of doing it here and now! Get moving!” She hiked one extensive thumbclaw toward the Hewn City. “Paradise, fly to the top of Hewn Step and get everyone back down the plateau. Anyone past the half-way mark needs to go back too, and you’ve got a wife I intend for you to get home to safely, so if they mouth off, leave ‘em!"

"We had a deal."

Hitth kept walking, not even bothering to turn an ear back to the nocturne. "Your words are as piss. There is no reason  mine should be binding."

"You haven't even taken anyone," Ilkilides snarled. "You tempted so many yet ate none but merchants and outlanders!"

"You know the manner of creature I am, and you have asked me to act in secret." Hitth bared its teeth. "To my own detriment. Many a meal might already be digested if you had not insisted I should not trap them within."

"Did you want to be discovered with a bunch of comatose bodies laying around you? What might have happened to you, I wonder, if Arcanus had found Carnelian in such a state? He was ready to behead you even though Ashes was perfectly fine," Ilkilides reminded. "It was in your best interest to heed me."

"That has changed," the pearlsnatcher hissed. "The Choasen skulks near, and unless you intend to defend me, one godsborn against another, I will quit this place. I will quit it anyway. I have no care for the squabblings of the Sister-Gods, and this place leaves me hungrier than not. The children of the All-Seeing Locust lack the curiosity to go seeking in dark places. The Calamitous Star’s kin are better fare and easier prey."

"I'm sure going back to the Isles will go well for you."

Hitth paused. So many eons of hunger and now these pitiful sips of magic to sate its never-ending appetites. The Isles were ideal. But the whelp was right. It need a boost. It needed a special meal, the likes of which it might not come across for eons...

It opened its wings and the facets struck Ilkilides' surprised eyes before he could avert them, causing him to fall from the sky. The godsborn nocturne knew what Hitth was. Its names, its powers, the rules, but not the traps it could lay. It dragged his body into a crumbled shelter and waited. It might be hours or days, but Ilkilides’ one desire would eventually be to escape.

Of all its tricks, none worked half so well as a false exit presented to a desperate dragon.

Ashes might have resented the insinuation that he was desperate for anything other than magical pursuits. He had Stellaria and Arcanus and his entire job was to study the wonderful, outstanding magics that seemed to follow their clan around. There wasn't anything he thought he longed for. Every time he had gone to Hitth, the vision had never been able to stabilize. Willow would be alive, but Stellaria wouldn't come into his life. He could have them both, but Lutia still lost Horizon and drove them out of the Isles. Horizon didn't die, Lutia didn't erupt, but something else would go awfully wrong and the vision would gray and shatter at the edges until only an infinite gray remained and he was returned to his own body. It was never right. It was never his heart's desire.

How could he be desperate if he kept going over and over and over and over and the reflection presented to him was never enough?

Stir craziness, he thought.

It had never really occurred to him just how much how much freedom he had until he was restricted to his home and his lab. And having Lutia be his warden both grated on his nerves and shamed him intensely. He felt he had fallen behind her in self-control somehow, and his patience with her constant lurking was strained for it. That was the honest truth of it, but it brought him only more guilt.

Lutia was was the only one who was actually sympathetic to him. Arcanus was speaking to him but with the sort of terse, business-only gruffness he had previously only used on others. Stellaria was wounded by the knowledge that her beloved uncle Arcanus had lied to her, and was speaking to him with similar stiffness, though it was slowly warming. 

She wasn't speaking to Ashes at all.

His eyes watered remembering what a frigid look she had given him when Arcanus explained the house arrest to her. The whiteness of her tightly clenched fists. She would have punched him if he wasn't her grandfather. 

Then came the matter of Chosen Renat... 

It was bad enough that with him came the proof that Ashes had been putting his life on the line--over curiosity, not desperation--but Arcanus had apparently been quite shaken by the news and had run out of the Hall of Five Lights in a panic. Telos had let him go, assuming he was running to Ashes’ side. 

Ashes found that out two days after the fact. While Arcanus refused to say, it was obvious to Ashes who his brother had run off searching for.  

How it burned. Aside from his charge, nothing had ever come before family to Arcanus, yet that suddenly seemed to have changed. Ashes was second to something. To someone. Old feelings welled up in him that should have been laid to rest long ago. Again, he turned out to be secondary to someone he adored. But it was his fault this time.

A rift had formed between him and his family, and over what? What had happened? Only a handful of eons ago he had refused to do anything that might put him at risk. He didn’t want Stellaria or Arcanus to be sad. Yet he had allowed a stupid dream that was never right anyway to blind him. 

"Damn it..." he whimpered. Tears dropped down his cheeks, and he quickly wiped them away with the edge of his robes. He couldn’t have named what he wanted in that moment. To have the love of his family back?  To feel he was still special in their eyes? To feel he hadn’t failed them?

All he knew was that his heart ached so deeply he would have done anything to make it stop. 

[galadrieljones]

A young Solas peeing magic.

Sera: You can make magic anywhere, Solas? You ever piss it by accident?

Solas: No….wait. No.

Sera: What? How would you not remember something like that?

Solas: We were all young once.

Welp, here it is. Solas, age nineteen, pissing magic. From the POV of Ghilan’nain. This is a Teen Wolf story. @5ftgarden, for making this possible.

Young

Winter was a colorful chill that year,mild. The sky was red. Ghil had been hanging out in one of the alleys nearWinter Street in Arlathan with a couple of girlfriends. They were snottybitches who wore too much make-up and drank prissy booze, and she knew theyonly kept her around like a pet because of Solas. He could get the good drugs.He knew all the good parties, and he had a leg-up in every casino in town. Freedrinks. Ghil put up with these girls because otherwise, she had nobody but him,and that seemed a stupid way to be.

She wondered whereall the regular girls were. The ones who just smoked and liked to lie down onrooftops and look at the shapes in the stars. She had begun to wonder whetherthis was a kind of girl that actually existed, or if they were all exactly likeher, and this is the thing that kept them separate from one another: they wereeach taken up by some tender, cute boy who felt everything but didn’t know howto show it. Ghil loved Solas so much those days, it made her teeth hurt.

These mean girls withthe make-up, they all lived in dreamy castles in Arlathan, but they were smallpotatoes. They were anything but nobility.Their families were stupid foot soldiers to the actual queens and kings. Itwas like a joke. Even still, they thought Ghil’s country life a trashy novelty.They looked at Solas and they saw an unattainable treat from the wrong side ofthe tracks, and he sort of let them bat their eyelashes at him for a while, becausehe liked the attention, but that was it. He always went home with Ghil. Or, shewent home with him, rather, as she had not actually spent the night in her ownhouse for near on a month.

Ghilhated it there. She wanted to be free. She wanted to spend her nights at Solas’shouse where his mother was the kindest witch in all the Weathers, and evenafter all these years, she still showed Ghil how to do special kinds of magicwith the roots in the earth, and she would braid Ghil’s hair for her in themornings and make ice water. Ghil showed her once how she could grow babyanimals from the knots of trees—like baby chipmunks, baby eagles. Solas’smother found this very impressive, which was high praise. Solas, meanwhile, justliked to build shit. He restored an old train car at the back of their propertyto working order. He put it on a track and everything. Ghil still wasn’t surehow he’d gotten it back there, but he did, somehow, and the magic he’d used wasso confusing, he’d had to write it down. Just a bunch of math, she thought.

Ghil could witherbirds and flower them back up into the shapes of hats, but Solas once cut ahole in space and took her through it, and together they walked in a tunnelmade of stars and that somehow dropped them into one of the floating castles overArlathan. How the fuck? said Ghil. Hetried to explain. She could make animals, but he could fold the physics of theworld in on itself and somehow write it all down, and this, to her, was theheight of genius. But he didn’t seem to care. He had very little ambition. Hejust wanted to restore old train cars and experiment with worm holes in thesky. When she asked him what he planned to do with such superior magic, hemerely shrugged his shoulders. “What do you mean?” he said. That was it.

So tonight, she washanging out with the snotty bitches of the upper-middle-class of Arlathan,waiting for Solas. He was supposed to be in the Ring, but Ghil thought maybe hewasn’t there that night. He had gotten sort of sick of the knuckle fights andprobably he was actually in one of the casinos instead. He played a lot ofcards in those days. She thought maybe this meant he was calming down, butthere was no way to be sure. Solas was just…Solas. He did what he was gonna do,and she couldn’t stop him. Nobody could.

“This root sucks,”said Hallavune. She flicked the joint to the sidewalk. She had very prettyblack hair. It was so shiny, it could have been a creature slicked in oil.

Ghil sighed. “I’mgoing to the bathroom,” she said.

“Where?” said Areina.She was blond like Ghil, but her eyes were like ice cream cones, kind of droopyand wet all the time. Hallavune and Areina didn’t really want Ghil to leave.Ghil knew this. Because if Ghil left, that meant no Solas.

Ghil looked around. “Oneof the casinos,” she said. “I’ll be back.”

“Hurry.”

She went down theblock a little bit, took a right into the casino called Pale Dreaming. It wasthe one with the tree-shaped candles, and she liked it here. It was the softestof them all, and the bartenders were nice, and they mostly knew her, because ofSolas.

“Hey, kitty cat,” oneof them said. He was an older man, like forty-two, sleeves rolled up, polishinga rocks glass behind the counter. “What can I get for you?”

“Gin,” she said.“Just a little. On the rocks.”

He poured her thedrink, put a little sprig of rosemary. “On the house,” he said.

She smiled, sippedher drink. She did not like to drink very often, but when she did, she likedgin. She liked juniper berries. Gin tasted like the woods. “Has Solas been by?”she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” hesaid. “He’s here now.”

Ghil looked up. “Heis?”

“Just stumbled outback for a piss, I think.” The bartender winked. He was a married man and verysturdy and somewhat handsome, but he had a deep scar going from the root of hisleft eyebrow all the way down to his earlobe. She wondered what could have givena man like this a scar like that.

“Thanks,” said Ghil,reaching for her purse. “Can I tip you?”

He clicked histongue. “No, ma’am.”

She went out thebackdoor. One of the bouncers showed her out. Usually, only employees got to goback there, but she was different. She was special. She was Ghil.

She found Solas notfar, his head pressed hard to the wall, pissing in the alley. He had his eyesclosed. She leaned right beside him, plucked a joint from her pocket. Themoment she lit the end, he smiled.

“Are you a literalwolf now?” she said, smoking, debonair. “Marking your territory?”

He zipped up, gaveher a look, smiled. “What are you doing back here?”

“I needed to get awayfrom Hallavune and the other one,” she said. “They hate my elfroot.”

“Not good enough forthem?” said Solas. She passed him the joint. He took a drag, passed it back.

“Certainly not,” saidGhil. She sighed. “Did you even make it to the fights tonight?”

He shoved his handsin his pockets. It was chilly out there. “No,” he said. “I think I’m done. Forreal this time.”

“Seriously?”

“No promises, butyes.”

She got on her tip-toes, gave him a kiss. “Ithink I’m gonna just hang out at the bar,” she said. “If you’re going to be awhile.”

“Not much longer,” hesaid.

“Can I bring thebitch brigade in here? Or will they get kicked out for being too pure.”

“You can bring themonly if they promise to make a face when I tell them I have no elfroot. I’mcompletely dry.”

“I have tons,” shesaid.

“Yes, but apparently,it’s shit.”

She shoved him. Helaughed into her ear, kissed the highest tip. “It’s cold,” he said.

“Okay.”

She tossed the joint,stamped it out with her boot.

But as they turnedaround, she saw something weird,  on thewall. “Solas,” she said. “What the fuck is that?”

He raised hiseyebrows, took a step around her so he could see. Where he’d taken a pissbefore, there was a little vortex. Like, cutting into the plains of existenceand pulsing black and silver, like a little mouth. “Holy shit,” he said.

“Are you that drunk?”she said. “You’re pissing magic?”

“I am not drunk,” he said. He kicked the wallonce, and the vortex disappeared. “I don’t think.”

She sort of laughed,let him win. He kissed her on the hair and they went back inside.

One day, they wouldreally miss this place.

For @dadrunkwriting.

[merryfortune]

On Changing Tides

@seasaltmemories wrote a Serena meta and it gave me some ideas. So I wrote this last night at midnight instead of doing my assignment. I don’t know when i’ll post this on ao3 because I have a rule that I have to update PBL after every 4 new/updated fics.

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc V

Ship: Serenadeshipping (Serena/Yuzu)

Alternate Universe - Pirates

Synopsis: Serena is a traitor to Admiral Akaba Leo’s Navy. But she’d rather be lawless than without morals so she’s joined the infamous Lancer Pirates to pursue adventure, justice, and romance.

Words: 2, 172

Warnings: Blood, swearing, light medical procedure, injury, possible gore, violence, that sort of thing

  Corruption festered beneath the names of nobility and justice. It was like a terrible rot beneath the facade of brilliant flower. With a blade at her command, Serena shall cut it all away or else dishonour shall be the death of her. She refuses to fight for it any longer. Not now, not when she’s seen the people she had hurt in the flesh and fury.

  Fleet Captain Yuri approached Serena. He scowled. His cutlass was drawn as was a cruel smile and deviant eyes.

  ‘Now, now, Serena. Surely you understand still that we are of the most gallant goals.’ he said.

  He reached out with his blade. The upward tip of his cutlass poked upon Serena’s breast lightly. He disgusted her and she had no problems letting him now. Her face soured. She lifted her chin and looked down upon him. Her free hand turned to a fist. She raised her own cutlass.

  ‘Duel me.’ she snarled.

  ‘Come now, surely we can settle this civilly.’

  ‘You haven’t a pleasant bone in your body. You and I both know you wouldn’t hesitate to cut my tongue out of my mouth it meant you didn’t have to listen to the truth!’ Serena spat.

  His eyes fluttered closed; he tutted: ‘After all these years…’ he lamented. ‘I still can’t fool you. And yet? You are Admiral Akaba’s favourite soldier.’

  ‘Tell him to stick it where the sun don’t shine!’ barked Serena. ‘Now, duel me!’

  He sighed and discarded his scarlet cape. He smiled sinisterly; his eyes gleamed with bloodlust.

  ‘Very well, if you insist.’

  Serena steeled her resolve. She remembered the stories of civilians and pirates had given her. True, consistent accounts of the atrocities the Navy had committed under the evil ambition of Akaba Leo. She would avenge them. It was her duty to restore order and enforce justice. She would no longer be part of a system that desecrates the very morals she had brought into her life; even if it meant becoming lawless for it was better to be lawless than without moral.

  Yuri surged forth first. His slashes were precise and deadly. But he had sparred Serena many times. She knew his pattern. He knew hers. She parried his blade and ducked beneath it; surprising him with an uppercut.

  He stumbled backwards. He thought he knew her patterns.

  Serena spun on her heel and this time landed a strike with her blade. She swept in for a kick and got him across his ribs. He held onto himself and sputtered. Spittle flecked his mouth. He glared at her.

  ‘You lowly, conniving, bitch!’ he cursed.

  He charged forth. He was lost in rage. He raised his blade high and it cut on sunlight. It glinted. With a harsh strike, he ravaged what was beneath which happened to be Serena’s shoulder. His cutlass slid through her surgically but left much destruction. Serena howled in pain as fabric and skin tore. Blood spurted. Yuri relished it.

  ‘That’s what you get for using dirty tactics.’ he snarled. He looked down on Serena as she collapsed.

  She numbly clamped her hand over her injury. Blood stained her hands.

  ‘You bastard! I won’t forgive you!’ Serena yelled.

  ‘Please, you won’t get the time in Hell, traitor.’ Yuri replied; his voice was low.

  He propped up Serena’s chin with his bloodied cutlass. He smiled. He savoured the terror that shaped Serena’s faces; the way her lips quivered and her arms shook. The way her eyes widened before him like he was some destructive force of nature.

  ‘I believe you may want to reconsider that.’

  A new, cold voice descended on the pair of them. Yuri straightened up; he felt his back brush against the mouth of a gun.

  ‘Akaba Reiji… I’d know that voice anywhere. The prodigal son returns.’ Yuri drawled playfully. He sighed, shrugged.

  ‘You leave my crewman alone or else you’ll be the one in Hell.’ Reiji warned. He took his revolver off safety.

  Yuri sneered. ‘When one falls, one falls far.’

  ‘I am proud to call myself the latest recruit!’ Serena yelled.

  She pulled herself to her feet even though she was in shambles. Her grip on her cutlass was loose but it would not take much feat to slash open Yuri’s smug little face. She threw back her sword-arm and lashed forth. Her blade ate into the side of Yuri’s face. He screamed and screamed. Reiji pulled back; readjusted his glasses then called out to the remainder of the crew.

  Yuzu came back first. She plodded along in rags and smiles.

  ‘What on Earth…?’ she howled.

  ‘You can take care of Serena, as our resident medic. I need to attend to the others. Are they well?’ Reiji asked.

  ‘Y-Yeah, you can count on me, Reiji. They’re alive. Don’t you worry.’

  ‘Good. We can’t risk losing numbers. Not when our mission is becoming so critical.’ Reiji continued and he strode off. He readjusted the safety of his revolver and strapped it to his thigh.

  Yuzu crept forward. Serena scrambled to her weak legs once more. She was puffed up and proud like the cat that got the cream.

  ‘Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, sweetness?’ flirted Serena.

  She had to be delirious.

  Yuzu swallowed at the sight of blood. Not just Serena’s, she suspected as she saw the other body – Fleet Captain Yuri’s – twitch as he tried to keep his face whole rather than like the pages of a flayed book.

  Yuzu swung her brown bag around from off her back. She riffled through it and Serena trudged towards her.

  ‘You don’t have to be strong for me, Serena. I’m the doctor.’ Yuzu tittered.

  ‘I just want to get away from that motherfucker before he decides we can keep going pound for pound of flesh.’ Serena laughed through her agony.

  She powered onwards. Yuzu scampered behind her. Together, the women collapsed outside the Captain’s Quarters of this naval ship. They would be safe here. The remainders of the crew had subjugated the rest of the team Fleet Captain Yuri had brought on his personal ship, Starve Venom. Further down the deck, they heard Yugo teasing the marine grunts they had captured. That had to be a good sign; or a beg for disaster. They could hear Reiji counting heads and making orders; no doubt telling Yuto and Shun to ransack the Marine’s supplies.

  ‘C’mon, Serena, let me have a look.’ Yuzu cooed.

  Serena hesitantly let go of her wound. It was deep and Yuzu sighed.

  ‘You just had to piss him off, didn’t you?’

  ‘Fuck yeah I did!’ Serena boasted. She reverted back to her usual self before being consumed by the pain. She groaned as she brought her arms back to her side stiffly; her eyes wide and teeth gritted.

  ‘Don’t move your arms!’ Yuzu scolded.

  It took five or so minutes but soon, Serena was back in working order or somewhere close. She was hopped up on pain killers, a little bit of opium, and a fair few windings of bandages. She’d be good to fight soon again, or at least until Yuzu can get Serena onto her medical table where she can get proper attention.

  Serena’s eyes were dreamy which was definitely the result of pain killers. ‘Thanks, sweetness.’ She smiled smugly. ‘C’mon, lemme give you a little bit of sugar.’

  ‘I also accept dessert.’ Yuzu teased.

  She flushed a little bit when Serena pecked her cheek.

  ‘I’d literally kill ten thousand people for you.’ Serena said in a serious, gravelly voice. Serena clasped onto Yuzu’s hands for maximum effect. Their gaze held for an unusually long time.

  ‘I am well aware.’ Yuzu replied.

  ‘I literally love you. I’m glad we met. I’m glad I’m one of the Lancer Pirates.’ Serena continued.

  ‘You are literally high right now.’

  ‘Fuck yeah I am. Being around you puts me on cloud nine.’ Serena flirted.

  ‘We’ll see.’ Yuzu replied cynically.

  From further down the deck, people started to yell at them. Things were getting too cushy between them; they were risking Yuri’s revival at this point and a resurrected Yuri would be demon spawn to deal with so it was time for the Lancer Pirates to make their great and theatrical escapes. Like they always did. They had become known for it at this point.

   Yuzu shouted back at her comrades who jeered at her in good nature back. She got up. She flattened her skirt and Serena copied; brushing her hands over her brown-red, once white, trousers. Serena hooked her good arm over Yuzu.

  ‘Carry me.’ Serena whined.

  ‘I will, I will. I’d never expect my most critically injured patient to walk herself to our ship.’ Yuzu replied soothingly.

  Together they plodded off. They regrouped and everyone was there. Serena smiled and laughed. It was bizarre to see her like that; the smell of pain killers on her solved that mystery. Yuya hefted up Serena from the other side and Mieru fluffed around them, making sure that Serena’s chakras or whatnot were aligned for optimal recovery. She also couldn’t let them risk straining Serena’s legs or sides as they carried her so poorly.

  Once more, the Lancer Pirates – a odd motley crew of misfits and never-do-wells – set off on their next voyage; to their next battle be it between themselves over who got seconds or between a shopkeeper and got away with pickpocketing or between themselves and their true enemies. It was a mystery. It was an adventure.

  The strong, salty breeze of the distant oceans picked up. Their sails puffed outwards and proudly bore their emblem; the horseback skeleton knight armed with a lance. It felt good to be back.

  It had been two weeks since the skirmish on Starve Venom. On their ship, two weeks may as well have been a different life in between the violence and domesticity. Serena had been summoned to Yuzu’s office two hours ago. She swung her legs idly; wondered when she would be permitted to leave. It seemed soon though. Yuzu smiled as she put away her things.

  ‘So, what’s the verdict, sweetness?’ Serena asked.

  ‘Here, you deserve it. Don’t tell Sora I stole it though.’ Yuzu said. ‘All good patients get a lollipop from their doctors after a check-up. At least from the city I’m from anyway. They might do it differently in Academia.’

  ‘They most certainly do.’ Serena replied with a shiver.

  She accepted the lollipop. She tore off the plastic and lobbed it at the nearby bin. She popped it in her mouth and was accosted by the intense raspberry tang that burst on her tongue. She cringed. How did Sora eat these?

  Yuzu, noting Serena’s expression, shrugged. She guessed what Serena was thinking.

  ‘We never said he was a good confectioner.’ Yuzu joked. ‘Well… You’re all good to go. For now, if you get into another fight with that prick Yuri, you might end up with a permanently fucked up shoulder. Assuming you live to tell the tale; which I trust you would. But still, be careful. He’s out for blood now, no doubt. You’ve probably left him with a very nasty scar and for a vain man like that, well, that’s a crime punishable by a thousand deaths.’

  Yuzu rambled. Serena smiled. She liked to listen to Yuzu’s voice.

  ‘Do you remember?’ Serena asked, abruptly interrupting Serena who had moved onto lecturing her on the importance of keeping flexible.

  ‘Remember what?’ Yuzu asked; happily skipping to Serena’s jump of conversation.

  ‘What I told you after you dosed me with opium?’

  ‘That you loved me?’ Yuzu replied, simply. ‘It’s fine. Everyone gets high differently. You become a sap, it’s fine. It’s the same for Shun.’

  ‘I’m glad you remember though.’ Serena said. She stopped swinging her legs and her eyes brightened; became mischievous. She hopped down from Yuzu’s cold, tall bed that she used for general check-ups.

  Serena prowled around Yuzu before pouncing on her with a hug. ‘I’m very glad. Because I meant it, sweetness. I really am glad to have met you. To have fallen in love with you.’

  ‘Oh.’ Yuzu gasped.  

  Serena pecked Yuzu’s lips. She held onto Yuzu’s shoulder and made a point to remember this moment: what was around them, how it felt, and what it meant. She remembered the Yuzu’s lips were reminiscent of her the fruity, rosy balms she used. She remembered the chill of the office and where the placement of Yuzu’s things were; not just what Reiji had given her so his medical suite could be functional.

  ‘Now, it’s poker night with the boys.’ Serena continued. ‘It’s time to have a little fun.’

  Yuzu placed her hand over Serena’s. ‘Have fun.’

  Serena took a breath. This was her life now. And she couldn’t be happier. She was surrounded by love and by friends. She had good food and good laughs. She could want for nothing on this stingy ship. And best of all?

  Every day was a new adventure and she couldn’t lap it up enough.

  ‘Fuck yeah, I will.’

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING (g/t fantasy)

CHAPTER 11

“Um...Jae?” she called out into the dark. “I can’t see anything...”

“Give me a second,” Jae replied from somewhere ahead of her. And suddenly the space around them exploded with opaque light. Jae stood next to the wall to her left, his hand falling away from a large orb set into a metal bracket on the wall. He regarded her with a smug grin. “Impressive isn’t it? Maevis made them for me and Hev made the brackets. Connar and helped me put them in since I haven’t the first clue on this kind of thing. I mostly watched and held his tools for him. Oh-! Connar’s another human. He hangs around Hev’s workshop, but he kind of has his own space near the stables. He was probably the one to make your marker there.”

Nenani touched the metal trinket resting against her clavicle. “They said there were four other humans plus me.”

“Yep. You, me, Barnaby, Connar, and Sawyer. And Kent, but he passed away a few years ago,” Jae replied. He turned his back to her and walked down the tunnel. Just as the orb’s light seemed to be fading, another orb lit up, banishing the shadows to the farthest reaches of Nenani’s peripherals. As one orb illuminated the tunnel, the one before dimmed back to dark. It was as though the light inside was following them, bouncing from orb to orb as they transversed the stone tunnel’s pathways. Ahead of them was a small collection of steps. “Most humans who find there way here don’t stay very long. The war’s still pretty fresh on a lot of folk’s mind and most of them haven’t really forgiven Vhasshal for everything that happened. Most either go back to where they came from or join one of the hill tribes. Warren’s set aside a good bit of land for them to settle and make their own. Most giants stay away since it was made illegal to bother them without express permission.”

“What was the war about?” she asked.

Jae stopped to stare at her. “You don’t know?”

She shook her head. “Everyone always talks like I should already know, but no one ever really explained why the war happened.”

“Well. Long story short: someone killed the crowned Prince of Vhasshal. Never found out who. But they were human, whoever they were. And it happened in Silvaara. The Blood King got pissed and utterly destroyed Silvaara over it. Killed the King of Silvaara and every blood relative and most of the nobility for that matter. My family fled with most of the capitol. We weren’t some members of a noble house or anything like that though. We made shoes,” he said, continuing on and up the steps. “The Blood King earned his name, killed a shit ton of people, brought back the ancient tradition of eating humans, and got all but one of his sons killed because he was a fucking nut job. Until Warren and the last few folks with their sanity intact rose up and killed him.”

“...what happened to your family?”

“The war was over. But I didn’t know it at the time. We’d been hiding from the blue coats up in the hills for a few days and were making a move for Dander Pass. It’s a clear shot to the nothern plate from the moors that way. We stopped to rest our ox and to get a drink, but I was asleep in the cart. Someone had poisoned the pond. I only woke up when the ox died and it flipped the cart over. Everyone was dead. My Dad. My Mom. Everyone.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. They were hardly the only ones who died and theirs was quick and painless. Not many got such a luxury,” he replied. “Anyway, Warren and Keral showed up not too long after. I tried to hide, but Keral sniffed me out pretty easily. I guess I was pathetic enough to earn the King’s pity because he took me in and I’ve lived here since. He even taught me to read and write. Kent showed up about two years after that and Connar and Sawyer….hm, about three years ago? No, Connar was three years ago and Sawyer was two. And now you.”

“Who is Keral?” Nenani asked. “I keep hearing that name.”

“Have you not met him either?” Jae asked. “Damn. I’m gonna have to take you on my rounds and introduce you to everyone. Keral’s Captain of the Rangers. The blue coated bastards walking around like their shit don’t stink.”

Nenani gulped, as she recalled her recent and unfavorable meeting with the blue coats. “...I’m don’t think I wanna meet him.”

Jae paused and looked back at her with genuine curiosity. “Why’s that?”

“...I’ve already met a few of the Rangers,” she replied. “It wasn’t a good experience.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Which one?”

“Thrist.”

“Him? Ha! That fucker’s half-a-penny short of a half-a-penny,” replied Jae as he turned and continued on. “What’d he do?”

“He tried to eat me,” she replied acidly.

“Ooooh, that’s not good. Anyone tell Keral about it?”

“Bart did, yeah.”

“Ah, well, then there’s no worry. Thrist’s gonna regret ever looking at you wrong after Keral’s done with him. It’s a big no-no to mess with any of us with markers. We’re under the King’s personal protection. So messing with one of us is paramount to giving Warren the finger. Oh, Warren’s the King’s name. Don’t know if anyone’s explained that to you yet. I never call him by any honorifics though. Special privileges, being his ward, I guess.”

Jae paused and turned back to Nenani and pointed to her. “You should probably stick to all the formalities though.” He turned back around and continued onward. “Anyway. Keral’s a decent guy. His sense of humor sucks, but he’s a good fella’ overall. He’d never hurt ya. Especially since your Farris’s.”

Nenani made a noise of confusion.

“On the account of them being brothers and all,” Jae replied casually.

Nenani stopped in her tracks, regarding the older human ahead of her. “Farris has a brother?”

“Yup. Twin actually,” he said and then laughed. “But they’re really easy to tell apart. One’s always grinning like an idiot and the other always looks like someone pissed in his ale.”

Nenani smiled at that and then hummed as she contemplated the notion of there being another giant walking around who looked just like Farris. Someone with the same red hair, same square jaw, and the same...green eyes…

A blue coat Ranger with sharp green eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as vague memories surfaced. She could almost feel the chill of a cold night from so long ago brush against her arms and the smell of trees and dirt. An echo of a voice…

‘Hello there, my little sweetling...’

There was an uncomfortable knot in her stomach, but Jae seemed to pay no notice as he continued through the tunnels, making a sharp right and up another flight of stairs. The light followed them, bouncing from orb to orb, illuminating their way. She jogged up the stairs to catch up, her head reeling a bit as she tried to make sense of the jumble of thoughts and feelings bouncing around in her skull.  

“Maybe another day I’ll introduce you” Jae was saying. Her head snapped to attention and she opened her mouth to decline the offer, but found her voice failed her. “He’s a guy you want on your side, that’s for sure.”

Nenani picked at an uneven section of her fingernail, trying to find some words to spit out, but found her mouth too dry. Her heart hammered in her chest.

Why did these memories scare her so much?

“You okay?” The concern in Jae’s question startled her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see him regarding her with a curious, but slightly worried expression. “Is it the tunnels? I know they’re kind of creepy, but there’s nothing down here. Just us. None of the other humans even use them. Connar and Sawyer never really come inside the castle and Barnaby never leaves the library without Maevis. So it’s just you and me.” A pause. “Are you afraid of the dark or something?”

Nenani saw an opening to dismiss her behavior and jumped on it. “A little,” she confessed. “I’ve never been inside a castle before all this. It’s...a little strange for me.”

Jae just smiled indulgently and gestured for her to follow him. He waited until she was on the same step as her and put his arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I know these tunnels like the back of my hand. Better even. I never pay attention to the back of my hand. Heh. Anyway, we’re almost to the big stairs. Those will take us to the tower. That’s where the big library is. It use to be a watch tower during the war, but Warren gave it to Maevis and he filled it with books so now it’s the big library. Or King’s library. But Warren never goes up there. He has his own study. It’s pretty impressive too.”

“The one with the big window? The colorful one?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Jae nodded. “You’ve seen it?”

“That’s where I was taken for judgment.”

“...judgment?” Jae asked with a suspicious raise of an eyebrow. He smirked at her. “What’d you do?”

She shrugged. “...I stole fruit from the kitchens.”

“Why?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“I was hungry,” she replied defensively with a furrow of her brow.

Jae laughed at her pouting. “So you thought it was a smart idea to steal from the King of Vhasshal? Didn’t your parents tell you the horror stories about this place? Giants are suppose to eat naughty children, right? That’s what the stories say. Well, I suppose the ones who would actually eat you don’t give a rat’s ass whether you ate your vegetables or finished your chores that day.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “I knew the stories. But I didn’t mean to come here. It was an accident. I got stuck in a basket that was on its way here. For the wedding.”

Jae seemed to consider her as though he was only now getting a true look at her. “Where are you from, anyway?”

“The Southlands.”

Jae choked on empty air, staring at her with wide eyes. “Wow! That...is not a small distance. You spent, what – how many days in that basket? By wagon? Damn.”

“A few days, yeah,” she replied. “Yale caught me when I tried to run. I was taken to the King later and he gave me to Farris. I met Lolly too. I like her. Her and the other ladies. They’re nice. They made me this dress.”

“Oh, sure,” Jae replied, making a face. “So long as you’re on her good side. Do me a favor if you see Lolly, don’t tell her you saw me. I’m hoping the whole gravy fiasco will blow over in a week or so and I can sleep in my own room again.”

They continued on through the tunnels until at last they were standing at the base of a wide set of grand stairs. Each stone step was wide enough for eight men to stand side by side and had inlaid carvings of figures and trees and rivers. An example of exquisite mastery of the masonry arts. Each step was different and seemed to tell a story as one climbed upwards. Along the walls, flashed colored tiles. Deep blues, greens, and gold. A small spot of red among waves of orange and yellow. Figures dressed in finery walking through forests, hand in hand. A castle upon a hill. A winding river. It was a marvelous work of art. It seemed such a waste for it to be lost down in some dingy tunnel. And then the thought struck her that it seemed quite odd that within a giant castle, were tunnels that were decidedly human sized.

“Who built these tunnels?” she asked as they began to climb the large stairs.  

“That’s the great mystery!” Jae replied, his eyes alight with a fierce passion. “I’ve been trying to figure that out since I found them years ago. It was an accident that I even found a door, but they’re all over the place. All hidden in plain sight. Like servant’s doors. But then why all this?” he waved to the mosaics and fine masonry. “I can get to pretty much any part of the castle through these tunnels. But the weird thing is that no one seems to know why they’re here. I mean, obviously they were made for humans, but why? Warren didn’t know they were here and he was born and raised in this castle. Barnaby scavenged through every book in this place. Nothing.”

“How odd,” Nenani remarked, running a hand along the tiled mosaic as she moved up the stairs. “They’re so pretty.”

“Yeah. Barnaby did some sketches of them for Maevis a while back since he cant’t come in to see them. He has some theories, but just that. Personally I think they’re all hooey.” A pause. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

At the top of the stairs was a carved archway. The stone had been carved to appear like two willowy trees growing from the slate flooring and up to meet in a delicate archway, their branches intertwined.

“It’s so pretty,” Nenani breathed, eye eyes darting around to take in all the details of the stonework. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“I guess I’m so use to it now,” Jae commented. “That I don’t appreciate it as much as I should. There’s other parts of the tunnels that have some nice masonry and mosaics, but I’d have to say this area has the nicest of them.”

He walked up to the center of the archway and put his hands against the seemingly solid stone. A fine line of bright light formed at its center as he pushed and the stone parted into a set of double doors. A gentle gust of wind blew towards them, bringing with it the scent of parchment and ink and the deeper rich smell of mahogany.

Jae walked through with easy strides while Nenani took her time. She eased into the new space, blinking as her sight adjusted from the dim gloom of the tunnels. Once her vision cleared, she was met with a magnificent sight. It was obvious that the big library was housed in a tower by the impossible tall cylinder shape of the room. A set of ornate mahogany and iron spiraling walkways swirled around and around to meet at a platform at the ceiling hundreds if not thousands of feet above them. And the walls were covered, every visible inch, in shelves that were filled to bursting with books and tomes and manuscripts and scrolls and all manners of writings. The floor was a gorgeous pattern made of light and dark wood patches that looked as though they had been woven together into the floor. The wood mosaic floor had been flawlessly polished, leaving such a reflective surface that Nenani could see her own reflection. It seemed presumptuous to walk across it with her dirty shoes. At the center of the round room was a table, made with the same level of craft and skill as the floor. The four thick legs were beautifully carved and finished with inlays of mother of pearl. A single door, set in between the books at the ground level and partially obscured by a purple velvet curtain was the only other feature to the room.

Nenani stood still, looking up and all around her, her jaw hanging open in wonder. Jae regarded her with a smug grin. “Impressive, huh?”

She nodded dumbly, spinning in slow circles as she tried to take in the room fully.

“Halooooo!” Jae called out, walking further into the room towards the large table. “You up there, Barnaby?”

“Indeed, I am,” came a muffled voice from above them. “Just putting the finishing touches on the new pages. Come on up and take a gander, young master Jae.”

“Be right up,” Jae replied. He glances over his shoulder and gestured for her to follow him. As she did so, she was wondering how in the world they were going to get on the table from the floor. She had been expressly forbidden from table climbing. Even if she had not been so, Nenani would have not been at all keen at doing so. Perhaps it was a trick of the eye, but this table seemed much higher than the one in the kitchen.  

And then she noticed a feature to the table that was very unexpected. Set within the one of the legs, carved from the thick dark wood, was a human sized staircase. Hidden from view unless standing under table, there was a groove cut into inside of the leg, sloping upwards in a gently arch, hidden by the decorative arched panels on the table’s sides. Jae was waiting at the bottom. He held his hand out to her and she took it with a smile and he helped her up the first few steps. They were much more narrow than they first looked and part way up, she bent down to all fours and began to climb it more like a ladder than stairs. At the top was a landing, set into the table top and a single step up to the table’s surface proper. She waited on the landing until Jae came up beside her.

The table was a mess.

Giant sized books were sprawled out at one end as well as several glass jars and tubes filled with various liquids in varying colors of vibrant hues.  The other side was dominated by an oddly sized book, too small for a giant and far too large to be of practical use to a human, and it was propped up on an easel. She surmised that if it were placed on the ground, it would be as tall as a fully grown man. A human sized table sat close by and pallets of color paints and inks and water colors and dozens of brushes, both clean and used, sat about in organized chaos. A bucket of murky colored water sat to the other side of the easel. From behind the bulk of the book, a hand appeared and dipped a brush into the water and disappeared before reappearing on the other side where it was dipped delicately into a small tub filled with yellow paint.

“So I brought you a surprise,” Jae said as he walked closer. Nenani followed belatedly behind. “One I think you’ll actually like.”

“Oh?” asked the voice from behind the book with a chuckle. “That would certainly be a nice change, wouldn’t it? What would it be then, my lad?”

“Well, if you look up from your paints for more than a second,” Jae said, though he was smiling brightly. “You’ll see for yourself.”

The face of an old man popped out from behind the bulk of the large book. Tufts of white hair sprouted from the sides of his balding head. The bare skin looked as polished as the floor far below them. A pair of thick spectacles rested on a curved hawkish nose. The glass magnified the pale blue eyes that peeked from behind them and they blinked curiously at Nenani as their owner made sense of what he was seeing.

“Oh my goodness!” The old man exclaimed. He rose from the small stool on which he had been perched and he came into full view. He was a lanky man of some years, marked by his white hair, ample wrinkles, and the slight stoop to his posture. He was dressed in a plain brown tunic and dark trousers with a tan apron that had splatters and flecks of colors from his various paints. His sleeves had been pulled up around his elbows and as he rounded the table, setting his brush down as he did so, he rolled them back down. He wiped his hands briskly with an old gray rag hanging at his hip as he ambled over to Nenani, a bright and happy smile stretching his face. “What a wonderful surprise indeed! It is very good to meet you, my dear. I am Barnabas MacVoy Devonshire, but it would please me greatly if you simply call be Barnaby.”

He reached a hand towards her and she instinctively offered her own. Instead of shaking it as Jae had done, the old man bowed lightly and brought her captured hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss onto it. He looked up at her from his bow through his spectacles and thick white eyebrows, asking, “What may I call you, my dear child?”

“Nenani,” she replied, feeling oddly flustered at the formality of the greeting. “M-my name is Nenani.”

His eyes twinkled and he placed his other hand over hers, sandwiching them together. “Such a lovely name. It is my greatest pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Nenani.”

“She’s Farris’s new pet,” Jae supplied.

Barnaby frowned at the young man. “Now, you know how much I detest that word. That is a gross misrepresentation of our roles, as should you know, young man!”

“I’m just teasing you, Barney,” Jae replied with a grin.

Barnaby shook his head and murmured something under his breath as he turned his attention back to Nenani. His frown melted away back into a pleasant and curious smile. “So, Farris, eh? I hope he and those boys aren’t being too rough with you. They can be quite a rowdy group. Good souls, to be sure, not a bad apple among them. But we can hear their brawls from here some days.”

“They are, a bit. Yeah,” she replied with a smile. “But they’ve been nice to me. They tease me a lot, though.”

“Oh? How so?” the old man asked.

“The usual sort, probably,” Jae added. “Acting like they’re gonna eat you? Or put you into a pie? Or the stew? Like I was saying before, Farris needs some new material.”

“Oh, I do hope someone explained the rules to you,” said Barnaby, the joy gone from his face and replaced with a stern and serious expression. “King Warren has explicitly forbidden the consumption of human flesh in Vhasshal. It��s a grave crime indeed.”

“Doesn’t stop everyone though,” said Jae lowly. “Some got a taste for it during the war and have been having a tough time giving it up. Like Thrist.”

“Thrist?” Barnaby asked with distaste. “Is he not that foul mouthed Ranger who was found urinating on the portcullis during spring festival last?”

Jae seemed to ponder that. “You know,” he said. “I think it was him. Anyway, he tried to take a bite of this one. So Bart sicced Keral on him.”

“Oh my. Well that does not sound like you have had the smoothest of introductions to our strange side of the world,” the archivist said, patting her hand in sympathy. “Very unfortunate. But in any case, you should know you are perfectly safe here within these walls. A few simple rules to follow will make sure you’ll be avoiding any unsavory characters who might not have the purest of intentions.”

“Yeah. Warren’s done a pretty good job of weeding out the crazy ones who would rather have us as dinner than as an acquaintance,” Jae was saying. “But they’re kept in line for the most part. That’s why each of us is given to a Vhasshallan. Their job is to pretty much babysit us.”

“I would most certainly not refer to it as such, but yes. In principle, young master Jae is correct. Each human who lives on castle grounds is assigned a guardian,” said the old archivist. He pointed to Nenani’s marker. “That little ditty there is very important. Never lose it.”

He reached into his tunic and pulled out a marker of his own. The leather strap was well worn and the metal medallion hanging from it lacked the bright sheen that her own possessed. He pulled it from around his neck to show Nenani, flipping it so the Vhasshal Crown’s crest faced skyward. “This is the King’s seal here, my dear. That is very crucial. It means we are under the King’s protection. In a way, making us all wards of the crown.”

He pointed to her marker.

“Your’s there has Farris’s seal and the Crown’s. Meaning you’re both ward to the King and to Farris.” He flipped his marker over to reveal another crest. “And this here is Maevis’s seal and means he is the Vhasshallan who watches over me.”

“I still make the argument that you do more watching over him than he watches you,” Jae said with a grin.

“There might be some small truth to that, perhaps,” the archivist admitted with an amused grin of his own. “But we watch out for each other to be sure. We both can be forgetful or far too engrossed with out individual passions sometimes. It’s good to have someone to watch your back.”

“And remind you to eat,” Jae added. “Which reminds me: have either of you eaten today? I don’t see any breakfast plates.”

The archivist replaced the marker around his neck and tucked it into his tunic. His eyes trailed upward, a finger tapping thoughtfully against his chin. “We had some tea not too long ago. I think. What time is it?”

Jae rolled his eyes and looked to Nenani, waving at the older human. “See? This is why I make my rounds. I came up here once and neither of them had eaten for two days. How do you just forget to eat for two days?”

“Well, Maevis had made a profound breakthrough regarding one of his spell theories and I was in the throws of the most splendid inspiration, I simply had to finish the piece before the spark left me,” the archivist defended himself. “Oh, but you’ve still to see my current project! Come, come, tell me what you both think. This way.”

The old man pulled Nenani along and around the small table to face the other side of the large book. The left page was a wall of delicate text, written in gilded ink that shone when the light hit it. The border surrounding the wall of words was exquisite and intricate with fine lines weaving around a strong red line. Flowers and fruits were clustered at the corners. And then there was the right page. A full length illustration of two figures, a man and a woman, both finely dressed in gold and white and red, standing side by side with their arms interlocked. They were smiling at one another, their profiles revealing regally sculpted noses and flushed lips.

The man was dressed in a red knee length tabard with gold adornments, a long gold mantle with a gilded and bejeweled crown atop his head. The woman was dressed in a white and silver gown, the full skirt spilling around the front of her and the man’s feet, almost as though embracing them both while his golden mantle flowed behind them, doing much the same. The gold and white of their overflowing garments created a visible circle around the two, signifying their unity. The man’s shoulder length black hair was straight and without much other detail, but the lady’s orange locks were intertwines with gold and yellow and white so as to create texture and depth.

“Wow, Barney,” Jae breathed. “You did all this in three days? Your hands must be killing you!”

“Well,” Barnaby replied sheepishly, “It would have been only two days in truth. I spent the first day sketching mostly and organizing my thoughts as to how the passages would read. And also, no one seemed to be able to tell me with any certainty how the Queens’s name was spelled! And also, Queen Rosanna’s dress had such delicate patterned bead work, I wanted to be sure I got it right. Thankfully, Lolly was very gracious in helping me with both those problems.” He glanced at Jae with a small smirk. “I did take a bit of creative liberty and left off the gravy, however.”

Jae groaned and looked to the archivist, his face void of any amusement as if to say ‘Not you too’. Nenani snickered though and got a mild glare in return.

A loud crash startled all three of them and they simultaneously turned to the door behind the velvet curtain. There was a cacophony of bangs and scuffles and muffled curses before the door burst open and billowing blue smoke spilled out. From the furling rolls of smoke emerged a tall figure, dressed in a long maroon robe. The ash brown haired giant stumbled blindly into the larger space of the library, coughing before he closed the door behind him and shut the curtain for good measure. Still coughing and sputtering, he turned around and waved the remainder of the blue fog away from his face.  

“My goodness, Maevis!” Barnaby exclaimed, moving towards the end of the table closest to the giant. “Are you alright? That was quite a bang.”

The giant coughed a few more time and adjusted his maroon robes, pulling down his yellow vest over his pot belly, and straightened the white leather gloves on his hands. “Oh yes, perfectly fine. Just a mild – cough – miscalculation. Forgot to carry over the variable element and when the primal sources don’t quite get along, well...you see, they make quite the light show when they haven’t the proper buffers. Nothing to worry about, my friend. Nothing at all. Though, I will need some more Yewling Root now. Blast. And Farris has already left for the markets, I’d imagine. I suppose I might try Garrish Parsley...”

“Well, while you think of equivalent herbal exchanges, come greet our new guest,” Barnaby told the giant as he turned and made his way back over to Nenani and Jae. The giant’s honey colored eyes drifted up to follow Barnaby. They fell on Nenani and he smiled warmly.

“Well, well, well,” said Maevis amicably as he approached, pulling a chair along with him in the same motion. He sat lightly into it to bring himself a little closer to the three human’s level. His attention focused on Nenani. “What a pleasant surprise, indeed! What might your name be, little one?”

“Nenani,” she said.

His honey eyes began to sparkle. “Named for the Daehil Nenani river, I take it?”

She nodded.

“That name carries a great amount of history with it,” Maevis said said, gesturing with one hand. “Barnaby would be more qualified to explain the particulars, but I do believe it was tradition to name the – oh what was it? - the first born of the sixth child? Something to do with the golden ratio and symbolizing infinity. I think. Or renewal. It has been many years since I’ve read anything on Silvaaran naming customs. The book was rather large...”

Barnaby laughed. “Your memory serves you proper, my friend. That is correct. The first born of the sixth child. Daehil, if they be a boy, and Nenani, if they be a girl. It was widely believed for many years in Silvaara that what you were named greatly affected your life. Your name, your family, which patron saint’s star you were born under. Very superstitious lot we were. And also why our King’s all took the name Haeral upon ascension to the throne.”

“Yep,” Jae added. “Luckily, all that nonsense was reserved mostly for the upper crusts. Otherwise I’d be named Ruthren Feithchild, born under Timinus the Wise, and be destined to be a magistrate. But nope. I’m Jae. Named after my Dad who was named after his Dad and so on and so forth. Because shoe makers are boring. So instead of all that, I am destined to wander around a giant castle, spilling gravy on Queens and sabotaging hard won treaties. What a waste of my talents that would have become a judge.”

“Agreed,” Maevis said with a humerus grin. “Diplomacy and politics never did suit you, I’m sorry to say, my boy. But then again, we wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Jae laughed and waved a hand dismissively. “Oh stop Maevis, you’re making me blush.”

“Now, my dear Nenani,” Maevis said, turning back to the little girl and planting his hands on his lap with a flourish. “How might you have found yourself in our midst? We don’t get many new humans these days.”

“That is right!” Barnaby exclaimed, moving to his table and ruffling among a pile of papers, pulling out a leather bound journal and quickly grabbing up a quill. “I shall need to write this down.”

Jae turned to Nenani. “Told you he’s want to write it down.”

“Where...where should I start?” she asked, looking at her audience.

“Anywhere you feel is proper, my dear,” Barnaby replied as he settled on his stool, quill at the ready. “Anywhere at all.”

So she told them how she had found herself trapped in the persimmon basket for several days, trying to escape and being caught by Yale, how she had been sick with the red reap – much to everyone’s very clear shock – and how the King had ultimately given her to Farris. It did not take long to tell and no one interrupted her, but Barnaby had an odd look on his face as he scribbled with ardent flecks of his quill. When his writing stopped, he regarded her with a soft expression. “Forgive me if I am overstepping my bounds, but I feel I need to ask: where are your parents, my dear?”

“They died,” she said simply.

“May I inquire as to the circumstances?” he asked gently, but he was quick to add, “If it is a tender subject I will not press you, please understand. I do not wish to upset you.”

She could have made it simple and omitted the major facts as she always did, glazing over the painful details of that day three years ago. Or was it four? Almost four. Gods, had it really been that long ago?

She thought on it for a moment, sifting through the darker corners of her memory. “They...well. They went to visit a friend and left me with my Uncle. When it got late and they hadn’t returned, my Uncle went out looking for them. It was a rule that no one should be out at night. They found my Dad. He’d...he had been murdered. And his sword was missing. They think that’s what he was killed with. His own sword. Because of the marks.”

Jae’s face was unreadable, but there was an intensity to his eyes that she found surprising. Both Maevis and Barnaby looks horrified and sympathetic.

“And you’re mother?” Maevis pressed gently.

Nenani shrugged and in a small voice, she admitted, “They never found her.”

“How do they know she’s dead?” Jae asked.

“My Uncle was very insistent that I not hold onto the hope that she was alive,” she replied. “And I guess after a few years I believed him. I mean, if she was alive, she would have come back. I know she would have.”

“I’m so sorry, my child,” Barnaby murmured, carefully making notes in his journal.  

“So was it your Uncle took care of you?” Maevis asked. “After your parent’s passing.”

She nodded, allowing the ghost of a smile to break through.. “Yeah. He was a fisherman. He tried to teach me, but I was never good at sailing or reading the tides or anything. I can throw a line pretty good, though.”

“And where is he?”

“There was a fire. A...really big fire. It destroyed the village’s entire fleet. A lot of men didn’t come back. He was one of them.”

“Oh you poor thing!” Maevis exclaimed. “How awful.”

She could have left it there and let them be satisfied with what she had said. But something inside compelled her to keep talking. A strange desire for someone, anyone, to understand. She had mentioned it to Yale and had managed to not allow her feelings to get away from her. He had even smiled at the idea and it made it all the easier to believe him. But in that moment, the real dread was seeping through her carefully built defenses.  

“They said it was my fault,” she added, her voice almost a whisper. There was a pain in her throat as she started to choke back the encroaching emotions. “That they were dead because of me.”

“Why would anyone say such a thing?”

“They said I was cursed,” she replied, her hands clenching the fabric of her skirt hard enough to turn her knuckles white. “That my parents deaths’ were an omen and the fire proved it. That I was cursed.” She began to sob. “...and they kicked me out. They said…they said I was dangerous.”

Arms were suddenly pulling her forward and her face was pressed into someone’s chest. Jae’s voice spoke above her. “Don’t ever think any of that was your fault, kid. Never. Let those cowards and idiots say whatever the hell they want, but never – and I mean never – believe a lick of it. They made you a scapegoat for their own stupid fears because bad things were happening and they didn’t understand why. It’s not you. It never was. It was always them.”

“...how can you know?” she breathed. “What if I am?”

“Well, there is a simple enough way for us to tell,” Maevis said confidently. Nenani turned him, scrubbing at her watery eyes.

“T-there is?” she asked.

He smiled kindly at her, nodding. “Of course there is! My dear, I happen to be a practitioner of the magical arts and while I am not one for shameless boasting, I freely admit to being quite good at it. I shall be able to sniff out any hint of a malicious spell about your person.”

Nenani’s heart leaped into her throat and she stood a little taller, looking into Maevis’s face with pleading eyes. “Y-you can? Really?”

He hummed in the affirmative and nodded. “If you’ll indulge me for a brief moment.”

Maevis carefully reached out to scoop her up into his gloved hands. He stood slowly and made his way over to a book shelf where a comparatively small chest sat between two large fat tomes. He shifted her to one hand and opened the chest up, reaching in and pulling out a magnifying glass before closing it shut. He walked closer to the center of the room where a bean of light from a window far above their heads shone down. Raising her up to eye level, he brought the magnifying glass to one eye and studied her, humming in contemplation as he did so. Nenani sat stiff as a board, heart hammering against her chest and watched him with wide nervous eyes.

The giant honey colored eye, made larger by the glass, shift and dart minutely as he studied her. Her arms began to tremble as she was overcome with the notion that she did not want to know after all. She could go on pretending that it did not bother her. Because what if she really was cursed? What if all those bad things were because of something she had done? Whatever it had been that warranted a curse be put on her head. What if her Uncle really was dead because of her?

Her father, cut down by his own sword.

Her mother, taken away and never to return.

All…because...of her.

Nenani saw the magician’s eye pause and the contemplative quirk of his mouth fell into a concerned frown. He took in a startled breath and her heart sank, fell through her feet, and crashed into a million pieces onto the floor so very far below.

Oh Gods, it was true! She was cursed! Despite herself, she hung her head and bite her lip. Fat droplets of water fell down her face to drip off her chin and she hiccuped out a sob.

“Well, there can be no doubt,” Maevis said with an air of finality as he moved back to the table, setting down the magnifying glass and bring his hand back up to cup Nenani in his hands. She was quaking now, terrified of the answer, but his eyes told her the truth. She was cursed. She was a wicked decrepit thing that had brought ruin and death to her people. Maybe it would have been better if she had died on that boat with her Uncle that night…

“Not a drop,” he said at last.

Nenani looked up with watering eyes. “Huh?”

Maevis smiled indulgently, his honey eyes soft and regarded her kindly. “You haven’t a spec, drop, or string of malignant magic about you, little one.”

“…n-no curse?” she asked with a small voice, not daring to hope that she had heard correctly.

“No curse,” he affirmed. The wave of relief that overcame her felt as though someone had poured cool water over her feverish head. But the tears did not stop. In fact they seemed to only increase and she covered her face as her shoulders rocked with relieved sobs. Built up guilt and fear that had dug itself into her soul and settled like sediment was breaking up and being washed away. The large hands below her shifted and she was tucked against Maevis’s chest as he took his seat, patting her back and murmuring to her. “Oh, oh, there now. Shhh. Poor little dear. Come now, let me see those pretty eyes.”

He pulled her from his chest far enough to bring a large white handkerchief to her face, dabbing lightly at her wet cheeks. Her cries were ebbing way now, leaving her utterly drained and exhausted.

“There,” Maevis said, looking down at the little girl with a sympathetic smile and tucking the piece of fabric back into his robes. “All better.”

He sat her back onto the table, catching her when her legs wobbled unsteadily under her, and waiting until she was steady on her own before pulling away.

“Thank you,” she told Maevis meekly, embarrassed at her display.

“Think nothing of it,” he told her. “In fact, I believe I have just the cure for such morose moods. Tea!”

With that, the magician stood up with vigor and walked back towards the velvet curtain, pulling it aside, and stepping through the door beyond.

“That does sound lovely,” Barnaby said, coming up beside Nenani. “Come sit, my dear. Have a rest.”

Jae was leaning against the table, watching her closely. There was an understanding in his eyes. It was a little odd for him to be so quite, but after a time, he seemed to shrug off whatever it was occupying his thoughts and he smirked at her.

“Maevis makes the best tea,” Jae said. “Grows his own plants and dries the leaves himself.”

“A man cannot have too many hobbies, my boy!” came Maevis’s cheerful voice from inside the far room.

“Do you know how tea is made?” Barnaby asked her. It was a clear attempt at steering the topic of conversation towards more pleasant topics. Which was just fine with her.

“No,” she replied.

“It’s a fascinating process. All tea comes from the same plant, but it is the manner with which those leaves are processed that yields all the vast varieties that we enjoy. Controlled oxidation and fermentation! First the leaves are allowed to dry. Then they are bruised. On purpose, mind you. Bruising is very important as it aids in the oxidation. The more oxidized and fermented the leaf, the blacker the tea. So to achieve a firm and robust black tea, the leaves are thoroughly bruised and oxidized while a lighter tea such as green or white, there is none to little bruising and the oxidation and fermentation period is much shorter.”

As Barnaby spoke about the peculiarities of the makings of tea, Nenani became aware of just how tired she was and her sobbing episode had done little to remedy that fact. Maevis was a magician, so surely he was the expert concerning curses and such and to hear from a professional that she was definitively not cursed was beyond anything she could have hoped for and she was very happy despite the tears.

So she sat on Barnaby’s small wooden stool as the archivist and Jae fell into conversation regarding their preference of tea. Barnaby was valiantly defending white tea as an incredibly underappreciated drink while Jae insisted that only black tea was worth drinking. Nenani decided not to weigh in as she had very little experience regarding tea. It was not a regularly consumed beverage in the Southlands, at least in her village. They simply could not afford it and their version of tea consisted of various weeds and grasses and sometimes seaweed boiled in water. She never liked the seaweed tea, even if the older villagers claimed it soothed their rheumatism. She preferred sour grass tea that, despite the name, was actually mildly sweet.

It was not too long after that Maevis returned carrying a small tray laden with a tea pot and several cups.  Giant cups. He silently sat the tray down near the three humans and Nenani wondered if he was expecting them to drink from giant cups. The idea seemed to be cemented when he began to pour the tea into the cups, looking to Jae and Barnaby and listening in on their conversation as he did so.

“How do you take your tea, Nenani?” he asked her.

“Uh...” she began.

“One cream, three sugars!” quipped Jae, raising his hand.

Maevis regarded the young man with a reprimanding, but amused tilted of his head. “Yes, yes, I am well aware of how you take your tea, Jae. I was asking Nenani.”

“Um...I don’t know,” she replied. “Is...there a correct way to drink tea?”

Maevis grinned and laughed. “Now that is a loaded question! Careful with that one, my dear. Wars have been fought over such questions.”

“What he means,” Jae explained. “Is that it’s a very personal choice.”

“How about this,” Maevis said. “One cream, one sugar, and that will give you somewhere to start and next time you’ll have a better idea, hm?”

She nodded, still confused as to how any of them aside from Maevis would be managing any tea drinking from a cup the size of a barrel. She watched the giant prepare all four cups according to everyone’s preference and once all were ready, he picked up Nenani’s. Maevis peeked at her from the corner of his eye and smirked knowingly and...it began to shrink in his hands.

Nenani gasped, watching wide eyed with wonder as the giant cup shrank smoothly until it was perfectly portioned to human size, sitting innocently in the center of the magician’s palm.

“H-how did you do that?” Nenani asked with a bright smile, delighted by the blatant display of magic.

“Years of study and practice,” he replied, lowering his hand close to her so she could retrieve the cup. “A remarkable and endlessly useful little trick, I must say. Especially when one’s friends tend to be on the -shall we say- shorter side.”

She grinned widely and watched with growing wonder and excitement as he repeated the trick with both Jae’s and Barnaby’s cups.

“Never seen magic before?” Jae asked, taking a long drink from his cup.

She shook her head. “Nu-huh.”

“Truly?” Maevis asked, sounding shocked. “Well, it pleases me greatly to be the first.”

She took a tentative sip from her cup and marveled at how far a cry the taste was from the tea with which she was accustomed. It was sweet, but not overly so and the cream mellowed out the deeper earthy flavor of the tea itself. It was delicious. She took a longer drink and hummed appreciatively.

“I believe she approves,” Barnaby said with a smile, sipping lightly at his own cup. “There’s nothing better than a good cup of tea. Especially as the season changes.”

“Wholeheartedly agreed,” Maevis added with a placid smile.

The settled into a content and largely silent spell of time where they nursed their drinks. The warm tea warmed Nenani’s belly and she could not muffle the yawn that rose up through her chest and stretched her mouth.

Barnaby laughed softly. “I do hope we haven’t tired you out, my dear.”

She was quick to reassure the man. “No, it’s just everyone downstairs gets up really early and they go to bed really late.”

“Well that won’t do,” Barnaby replied. “Children need their sleep. Much more than I’m sure their schedule allows for.”

“Is that why Avery was serenading the rafters with his caterwauling?” Jae asked with a laugh. “Trying to keep you awake?”

Nenani made a face. “Something like that...”

Maevis sat his cup down and stood up. “Well, I might have just the thing for you.”

‘Just the thing’, as it turned out, was a small bottle filled with violet liquid. He shrank it and handed it to Jae with the instructions of adding ‘just a drop’ to the remainder of Nenani’s tea. As she and Barnaby  questioned the magician on what exactly the liquid was, Jae was carefully eyeballing the small drop that dangled from the brim of the bottle over the tea cup. Maevis barked out a laugh at something Barnaby suggested and Jae started. A little more than ‘just a drop’ of the liquid spilled into the tea cup.

Jae hurriedly put the stopper back into the bottle and sat it aside to swirl the tea and potion mixture. He handed the cup to Nenani as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

“Now, it’s not the most palatable thing ever,” Maevis said as Nenani took a drink of her tea. She reared back at the taste hit her tongue and she squinted at the overly bitter and medicinal flavor. “But it should do the trick. A little ‘pick me up’, if you will. Very useful when the need for sleep interferes with one’s academic pursuits.”

Close to an hour later, it became apparent that they had a problem on their hands. Nenani no longer felt tired and the time passed smoothly through pleasant conversation. But, rather than feeling well refreshed and rested, Nenani became more and more energetic as the afternoon progressed. The time to return her back to the kitchens prior to Farris’s return was drawing nearer and nearer and her energy only seemed to be increasing.

Maevis was understandably concerned. Jae thought it was hilarious. Until Barnaby reminded him that he would be the one explaining to the Spice Master why his ward was, for lack of a better term, vibrating. As the humans and magician pondered helplessly for a solution, Nenani was content to bounce in her seat. One side effect, besides the seemingly boundless energy, was that she suddenly found everything very humerus.

“...maybe they won’t notice?” Jae suggested. Three pairs of eyes focused on Nenani who was quietly giggling at her feet as she swung them out and bounced up and down on her seat. Jae deadpanned. “Okay, maybe they’ll notice.”

He groaned and laid his head in his hands. “One week. One week where someone doesn’t end up pissed off at me. Is that too much to ask for? Am I being selfish?”

“Don’t fret,” Maevis replied. “This is not a permanent state. It shall wear off in time. My worry is that given the unknown amount she ingested, we do not have the full scope of how her metabolism might be affected.”

“You mean when the happy juice wears off,” Jae said. “She’s gonna crash and it’s now a question of when and how hard?”

Maevis nodded gravely, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Precisely.”

“Farris is gonna kill me...” Jae groaned.

“And I doubt that I won’t be far behind...” added Maevis.

Barnaby walked over to Nenani and held out his hands which she took with alacrity and hopped off the stool. “I think,” the archivist began, smiling. “The best course of action is to simply tell the truth. Lying will do us no good. If there is one thing Farris respects above all, it is the plain truth.”

“No bullshit,” Jae translated.

“Language!” Maevis chided.

So it was that Nenani and Jae bid farewell to Barnaby and Maevis, disappearing through the small door set into the ground and down the great stairs. After the door closed behind them, the first thing Nenani did was bound down the steps three at a time.

“Fucking hells!” Jae cursed, rushing down after her. He caught her arm at the bottom, frowning when she just giggled at him. “Don’t do that! Bouncing like a frog and laughing like an idiot is one thing, but I am not going to be the one to explain your neck being broken too!”

“But I didn’t break my neck!” she replied, smiling all the while. “And it was fun!”

Jae sighed in exasperation. “Let’s just get you back to the kitchens in one piece, alright?”

“Okay!” she chirped and began skipping back down the tunnel.

[princebxte-blog]

Chapter 2 || Un monstre

υ η - м σ η s т я ε

Christmas was upon the castle of Charlemagne. The mountains were covered in snow, and everything was in high spirits for the holidays. About as high as one could be, that is… Except myself. My mentor kept close, and I did all that I could to avoid making him angry with me. As much as his abuse haunted me… He began letting up just a tiny bit with me. I could actually breathe, and there were times where I would take walks all on my lonesome through the gardens, through the secret passages of the castle. But because of the situation with the nearby town Alsace, and it’s increasing need for administrative authority… My time was strained to focus on that. I was a child, I knew of the government and how to run one. I graduated years before my peers… So of course I knew best. My mentor however, was keen on making sure to influencing me further. Making me make decisions with his bias. He’d tell me what to choose, and gave me a look when I might decide out of his favor… Some times these actions were ruthless, cold… And I felt ill to act such a way. What might the townspeople think of their prince? I even agreed to execute a man who stole bread for his family, though… It was only because he lost his job, as the cost of my decision, or rather … My mentors. This stealing was a petty offense, but my mentor wanted me to make an example of him. To set him to death by hanging. The town was outraged, and I felt like this was going to be a rough life… Could I truly live with myself for this? The moment they were to hang him, I stopped and told the people it would not happen. That I’d share the castle’s bread with the families that lost their employment. My Mentor was not pleased, to the point of making them execute this man, purposefully pulling the level which gave way to the man’s support and he fell to his death. I was blamed. As it was my mentor, a part of my committee… And my mentor reminded me that night, who was to rule and how it was done… He gave me a lesson I would never forget. The little voice in my head began to strengthen with resistance to this evil that was being done to me… I had a realization, and just before I passed out due to my mentor strangling me into unconsciousness I made a decision to do something about him. To take back my kingdom. When I awoke, It was Christmas eve…

¢ н α и g є я

At this point in my life, my mind had been coddling itself. You know that little voice in your head? They call is a conscience, the glimmer of hope you feel… It is said to be a human trait to have this. I clung to this hope, this feeling for dear life. Relying on it at all times, and tugged on it in even the desperate times. Well this… This was one of those times. This voice telling me I’d be alright, that things were going to change for the better today. That I had the plan to kill my mentor. I was going to slit his throat, I was going to murder him… And then… Maybe explain myself. I was a 12 year old boy with more authority then a governor, then a judge… I had great power, great pressure… And the abuse never ceased. Today was going to change. The day felt surreal, but I went on… Thinking to myself, using my conscience as a conversation partner. I held my head up on the arm rest of my throne acting like I was bored. It was awful really, but this façade I held was so profound, it seemed to take over even when the man who created this… Monster in me, wasn’t even present. I looked around the room, wondering where he had gone… But then a shout came from down the hall and a very pissed looking teacher of mine held a book up… My diary Oh… He must have found it, and read it! I didn’t mean to confess my plans, truly I was just a boy with a wish to be free. But this man was surely never going to let me forget Christmas… He asked to speak with me privately, expecting to yank me into the nearest closet for reasons known to only he and I at the time… But my servants, bless them… Kept my attention on what was at hand. I started to become angry when they dragged the man out of the room so to speak on my behalf, all the while a knock came from the door. Standing in complete fury and rage that my plans had been foiled I growled out at the door. Who disturbs my Christmas?! Opening the door myself, it was nothing… I nearly looked away, not noticing the figure who blended into the darkness. Short and decrepit, I had nearly passed over… But the eyes, well the one eye that I could see struck me like a knife. Then they held out a rose, more beautiful then any I’ve ever seen. It haunted me, but the eyes of this soul who had happened upon my castle stoop was too much. She asked for lodging in return for the rose. An old flower maiden, who held a basket where no doubt dozens more were, that or they were all wilted considering the frosty winds. Letting her in would be of no trouble to me, but then thinking about the man … the teacher… This mentor and what he might do if I did let her stay made me think twice… The little voice in my head telling me to turn her away out of my own safety My own…. Selfish needs, So to speak. Really it was a battle of what was right, and what I was afraid of. I casually rolled my eyes, pretending to be the spoiled brat that everyone wanted me to be I told her to go away. To find shelter elsewhere, and just like that she fainted… Or died. How could I?? I immediately wished to kneel down and help her up, but it was too late and then there was a bright light. Shielding my eyes to readjust to this, I was immediately regretting everyone decision I’ve ever made since my birth. This was no old woman, but rather a beautifully dressed woman with long blonde locks and a silver and blue gown. I heard of legends. Of Greek , roman and Irish myths talking about the magical spirits that disguise themselves and ask their mortals for lodging, and if denied they suffer a terrible fate. But my fate could have been for the better. This Enchantress told me that she had known my mother since before I was born. That the only reason I was given life was because I had to prove myself to this woman, that I was a good person. But she was wrong and because of this she wanted to take my life away. She told me that I had a cold heart, that I was going to be punished In order to learn my lesson everyone and everything would become a part of a spell that she had just cast. She said that the townspeople would forget there ever was a castle, or a prince and that the they would never be able to remember much outside of it, and the castle would forever reflect what he was and the guilt he’d receive for holding all his servants captive inside as the curse would trap them here as well. Lastly, the prince himself would of course be what he was on the inside… A Beast. She told me all of this, but in that moment my castle did not turn into anything, my servants were fine… And I was still… A person with many problems. The voice kept telling me to be afraid, that she was not lying… And yet, I didn’t want to believe. So I didn’t. Not at first My mentor came out behind me and invited her in. She was not only attractive but was adorned in peculiar garments, as well as her presence breathed nobility. I scoffed at this decision since this woman had just cursed me, and my castle, but yielded, considering his powerful glare he held over me. The woman seemed to eye him, and smile. Almost as if she could see right through him. As the hours passed, my mentor told me that he was going to escort this woman home, and as uncomfortable as I was with the two of them, both eyeing me simultaneously for different reasons all night, I felt the pressure come off of me. That was the last time I ever saw that man… It was the most peculiar night, but one I would never forget, for as the incoming months passed… My personality had no changed. I was still a bitter child with a heart that wanted to seek revenge on the world for dealing me this rough start to my young life… But over time, things did change… Slowly, my castle became a nightmarish disarray. All of the statues that portrayed saints and angels had become dark, ugly gargoyles and monters with wings, and little by little each and every night… A scream emitted into the halls, one that would frighten me out of sleep. The little voice in my head told me to keep wary, and each day was worse then the next. People were disappearing, and I hadn’t been able to investigate or learn the reasons as to why… Could that woman have been right? As time passed, that same woman appeared again, warning me of the incoming change I was to experience by the end of the year. She said she gave me more time due to the troubles I had been facing. What could that mean? But If I did not change now and find someone to love me for who I was and love them in return, I would become something far more vile and ugly then what I see in the statues of my castle. I didn’t believe her, nor did I think she had the power to curse me anymore. She was just an annoyance. If she didn’t go away, I’d have her arrested and hanging for trespassing…. She simply smiled at me, as if to mock my authority, and gave me a rose. She told me that once it died, and that I had not changed my heart… I would become a Beast forever. It was a laugh at first. Though, slowly I began to see myself changing. During that year I became even more cruel and disgusting, and my fear for this curse that slowly took one servant every night, began to make my mind go insane. The little voice telling me that if I found someone to marry me, then maybe it would show that witch I was truly good enough. I tried brushing away the thoughts that plagued me. This little voice telling me day after day htat I was in fact changing just not noticing it in the mirror because my eyes tricked me. So, for once I have my portrait painted because I wanted to see if I could see what others saw when they looked at me After receiving the result I was looking older, far more cruel then the portrait. In comparison to the portrait, my face was the servants tried calming me, telling me that I just looked more distinguished. A compliment that was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Over a month I began to worry and panic. I began to whether as a 13 year old boy, I should be making arrangements to throw a ball and marry someone right away. Even at my young age it was not unheard of, but my closest servants gave looks that were doubtful. They didn’t believe me, and the voice in my head had become louder as we came upon the one year anniversary. My servants were disappearing. Still day after day. That is Until there were only a handful… Potts Lumiere Cogsworth… Forte etc But it wasn’t until a year later on Christmas eve that my castle would truly transform.