#one day I will regain my ability to colour in a way I am satisfied with but today is not that day. closer than before tho!

[aulerean]

No thoughts only red life Pearl

[vulpeskorsak]

Day 4 of Whumptober 2022: I am alive! *art in the end

Day 4 of Whumptober 2022!

No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET

Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out

Victor is my human fleshsmith inventor (KibblesTasty Homebrew class) from a long-running DnD adventure. Otty is an adorable gnome assistant from his backstory. This is the most important episode from his backstory which sent him on his adventure which led him to where our campaign starts.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42168351 (AO3 link)

I am alive!

He pulls with his teeth, tearing out a chunk of raw flesh, and swallows it almost without chewing. Fresh blood is already coating his face and hands, dripping down his chin onto his bare chest and below. He has been to many banquets, balls and other types of fancy upper-class parties, yet he has never felt this good while eating. This satisfied. This happy.

He shivers from the sudden cold and slowly comes to the realization that he is naked. He does not remember why that it but it hardly matters with how tasty his meal is. He digs deeper in, slashing at meat with his claws to free a small heart out of the chest. It is enough for him.

Claws? Now that is interesting. His eyes are open and can see clearly but it is as if he only now begins to notice some things.

He looks down at himself to first see his hands. For an inexplicable reason they are now clawed and completely unnaturally black up to a certain point half way up his forearm, as if badly burnt. Yet he does not feel any pain and his muscles work as intended. Their colour contrasts strongly against the pale skin above. The same seemed to have happened to his feet.

Then he notices his torso and hips which looks emaciated and even paler than normal. As his uncertain condition progressed, he spent less and less time outside, focusing on his research and experiments. The fact that he lost his tan makes sense, but this is even paler than he remembers. And he was never… rail-thin.

How long was he out?

Victor lifts his head from his meal staring at the blood-covered wall and concentrates on that thought.

He was out. Right. Something happened to him. He was sick. And then he got worse and worse. And then he completed his final surgery...

“Huh.” He says and notices that his mouth is filled with uneven sharp teeth. “I am pretty sure I died.”

The rest of his cognitive abilities seems return rapidly upon this realization.

“Oh, this is… This mean it worked! I am alive!” Victor laughs merrily cupping his own face and sliding his clawed hands down to make sure. His own voice sounds different. Not just from the difficulty speaking with this new tooth arrangement. It seems to be deeper, more guttural.

He looks closer at his own body. He is sitting on the balls of his feet and his knees over a corpse. His limbs have grown significantly longer and thinner.

He jumps up onto his feet and stumbles, unused to the extra height and body proportions. He clumsily rushes over to the full-body mirror falling and crawling over an up-turned table but finds that it has been knocked over and shattered. Still, he observes dozens of small versions of his odd new body and his toothy sharp grin. The whites of his eyes have also gone black and so did the skin around the eyes. Yet it starts to fade away after a few seconds. He can feel and see his body slowly return to his normal human self.

It is uncomfortable and slightly painful but not enough to distract him from carefully watching the changes in the biggest piece of the mirror.

His limbs shrink back to their normal length and he hears his bones creak and crunch and the black coloration recedes. His body reshuffles itself until he looks like himself again, with the exception of the rest of his skin not fully regaining its normal coloration. Getting his normal tan back would be a pain in the ass.

He sucks on his index finger, licking the blood off it, and notes that he enjoys the taste now, although it does not evoke the same excitement as it did a minute ago.

He did it. One of his reanimation methods worked. He instructed Otty on how to try all of them before his passing. One of them must have worked. She did it! Oh, he is so proud of her! And himself, of course. He did not think anything would actually work. It was all too rushed and untested.

“Otty! Sweetie!” He looks around in excitement, determined to find Otty and ask what exactly she did.

His lab is ruined. Everything that could be knocked over got knocked over. Everything that could be broken was broken. There is a hole in the tiled floor from some of the chemicals that must have mixed into a very powerful acid. Some of the papers that he used to keep on the same shelf have turned into ash. Thankfully, whatever caused the fire did not spread anywhere else and just quietly ate the papers and died down.

There is also a fresh corpse. Torn apart and half-eaten. It is small and covered in its own blood and viscera.

“Huh.” Victor mutters looking down at all the blood on himself and then back at her mutilated corpse. “That… was not something I anticipated from any of my ideas… Then again, I did not anticipate anything from them. So, the success has had… a price it seems… How curious.”

He licks another finger clean as he approaches it and crouches next to the body.

“I… am sorry this happened, little love.” He sighs studying the wounds that he inflicted. “You did very well… Thank you. I wouldn’t be alive again without you.”

He pets the clean part of her head affectionately smearing blood onto it. It is indeed extremely unfortunate. Otty has been a good friend and loyal assistant over the years. He grew to love her in a way. He will genuinely miss her, which is not something he typically does.

He wishes the reanimation did not turn him into a ravaging beast, yet it is not up to him.

Victor does not have a lot of time to grieve, nor does he want to. He can’t stay here any longer, or he might be arrested. He has promises to fulfil. He remembers now. So, he has to pack as quickly as he can and get out of town as unnoticed as he can.

He is glad he preserved a body of his height and relative proportions for this exact occasion.

“There was a horrific accident with the alchemical supplies of the clinic and it went up in flames.” Victor muses to himself imagining it becoming the talk of the town. “The good doctor and his assistant did not make it out in time and were reduced to bones and ashes by the raging fire! What a tragedy.”

[churchyarddirt]

Hi how are you? I would like to request a nsfw Muzan x reader. You can write it however you want (smut or lemon, whatever you feel is best), but I would appreciate if it was kinky 🙊🙈. Also maybe with demon!reader that’s not really shy and def not weak but still sub (yeah you guessed it, I like it rough and shit so yeah, they gotta keep up with demon daddy 😬🤭) I hope it requested it the right way Thank you for your time and effort 💕 have a great day! 😚

I am so sad I had to rewrite it all 😔 and thats on tumblr... anyways this will be Muzan x his enemy female demon reader, hope that sounds good!!! Also I'm so sorry if this isnt that good, I lost motivation the minute I had to rewrite it, but I missed writing for Muzan ♡

"I never thought that little plan of Douma's would work" Muzan commented, looking at your body. He adored the view.

You were pinned up against the wall by black wires that you assumed were Nakime's ability. Every limb tightly secured.

You were quite numb from the poison that you got infected by earlier, but it didnt matter. Your worst enemy was right in front of you.

Muzan slowly made his way to you, with blank expression. You were one of the lucky demons that had succeeded in regaining control from the demon lord.

Muzan didnt hate you, despite you ruining a lot of his plans, Muzan found you amusing and usefull. The taller demon craved to know how you feel, but sadly you were blind to him. He come closer, but you wore the same neutral expression, no fear or panic. And it pissed him off.

Suddenly, muzan took out massive kitchen knife and placed it against your neck "I'm quite tempted to slice it against your throat" muzan grinned as your expression finally changed and surprise erupted through your face, however, vanished as soon as sun rose up the sky and that orange-magenta colour came than disappeared.

As soon as in a matter of seconds you were back to your expressionless face.

"I'm not afraid, Kibutsuji" you declared, his name left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You felt the dagger sink deep into your skin "I know you're not afraid" Muzan admitted "so I will make you shiver" his eyes stayed locked with yours as you moaned from pain.

You quickly averted your gaze to the window, where the moon was disclosed with thick black clouds. You felt wisteria poison burn your skin and travel down your body, you could stop it. You were magnificent in blood magic, you could destroy the poison, yet you let it run down your veins like a river. It felt good.

You felt your body go more numb and numb. If you died right now, nothing would matter anymore.

You prayed that the poison would take you, yet it didnt. Muzan gently cupped your cheek and forced you to meet his gaze

"I've had my eyes on you for some time, be a good girl and stay obediently still" he taunted, his eyes drifting to your body.

Suddenly, the wires loosened up and you fell to the ground, your green kimono dangling elegantly "what are you doing...Kibutsuji" you grinned, barely able to keep your hands still

"Punishment darling" the demon's hands travelled around your shoulders, removing your clothes "if you'll promise to obey me and be a good demon, I'll be gentle" his serene voice had a hint of pity, you hated it.

You were a demon with immerse blood ability, total hydrokinesis of it.

"....hm" you hummed, passing out for a minute. You didnt know how long it has been, but you regained your body movement and half of your consciousness.

You muttered his name, making Muzan's eyes drift to you, and as soon as he did...it was over. You both were lost in a wave of lust. You always fancied the demon lord, of course you hated him, but you always wondered how being next to him would feel like...

The taller demon's lips crushed against yours. There was nothing gentle about it. Muzan was rough and harsh.

You tried to push him off but it was no use "stop resisting Y/n" he ordered, bringing your lips together. You felt cold wall against your skin as Muzan forcefully pushed you back.

From the strong impact, you couldn't help but to gasp, and in that brief momment, scarlet-eyed demon entered your mouth. His tongue felt embarrassingly good to touch.

"I-Im gonna invert your ribcage" you hissed at him, but the Male only griped your scalp and pushed your head against the wall, you let out small yelp

"Next time scream harder" he suggested with sinister smirk this time.

Muzan's hands were now places to your chest, since you tried to fight back he ordered Nakime to pin your hands to the wall. You were helpless. You noticed that the demon untied your kimono and left you with bare legs and upper body, only waist was covered. Barely.

"You'll call me lord Kibutsuji from now on" once his words finished, he squeezed your breast, you tried to lock your lips and not satisfy his needs but the more he teased your nipple's the more wet you got.

"I hope you...." you tried to give a smart comeback but nothing came out, it was embarrassing. Your breath hitched as you desperately tried to hold back your moans.

The male griped your chin, forcing you to humm, so briefly and seductively

- what do we say now? Y/n?

-....Fuck off - you hissed and almost gasped how Muzan lowered his head to your chest. Your eyes gave off chilly waves of terror and aghast, just like he liked.

Muzan smirked before licking your nipple, and with out warning, biting it gently...then harshly. Your cries and yelps were pleasant to him.

You started to shake and whine against him "P-Please, Lord Kibutsuji...i...I will behave, I prom-promise" your sentence ended with moan.

"That's what I'd liked to hear" you heard his voice in your head, did he gain control over you so quickly?

Muzan spread your legs over your hands, you didnt even realise how wet you got at this moment, you always knew Muzan was attractive but right now, it was ravishing.

His loose black hair tickled your stomach, as he slowly lowered himself closer to your pussy, for a brief momment, the room was filled with your panting breathing, not wasting much time, muzan got his tongue out, and licked your clit.

No matter how much you tried, you couldn't hold your moans back, the Male was too good. He was old demon with amazing experience, so you weren't surprised that he made you feel THIS good.

You closed your eyes, you swore that you saw white all over "I..really really want you inside me" you moaned, instantly regretting your words, he was an enemy after all...yet you were so quick to fall into his trap.

But it was too late, you were deep into lust and desire.

Muzan bit your lip, you squeezed his head between your thighs, you were so close to cumming, he knew that.

And that's why he stopped.

You hummed in sorrowful tone, the Male positioned his posture to align with yours "spread your legs open" he ordered, after licking his lips seductively off your juice

You glared at the demon, obeying his orders and letting your legs open up even more wider

Muzan allowed his thumb inside you, you couldn't describe the tension that you felt, this sudden and deep wave of euphoria, you felt so good you could scream. Your vision dimmed.

"Muzan...I think I'm passing out again" the older Male chuckled, as the tip of his dick was rubbing against your entrance, slowly and teasingly "you were meant to be asleep, after all, I didn't intend on keeping you awake, you're stronger than I thought" the Male admitted

"M-Muzan...I-" the Male corrected you "Lord muzan" his voice was raucous and deep, he was so eager to make you his "if I pass out..will...no" you uttered to yourself, getting lost in your head, before Muzan pressed your body against the cold minka wall.

This way, he entered his whole length inside of you, making you wiggle a bit "it's fine...its better for you to sleep" he explained, slowly brushing your hair before sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

"M-mu...m~" you tried to moan his name, but all that was in your head was this hunger, Muzan starts to move and you couldnt help but to roll your eyes.

He was perfect, a being close to perfection.

You passed out soon after, but you knew that he would take care of you. After that night, you became his. His only.

It wasnt planned, but you both knew you wouldnt be able to forget each other, any time soon.

[frostedravens]

More Than Some Thumbscrews

@badthingshappenbingo​

Also on AO3

Prompt: Thumbscrew Fandom: Original Content Warnings: Torture, non-consensual drug use, syringe, attempted forced addiction, blood

“You’re going to tell me where your friends ran off and how you managed to maintain that illusion for so long.”

“Mm, I think I’ll pass, actually.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

The Tenzu grinned at the Duke, blood on his lips, staining his teeth a wicked crimson, “There’s always a choice.”

“I suppose you are correct- but is that a choice you want to be making?” Duke Myron held up a clunky device made of iron and idly tapped at the screw in the top.

The Tenzu laughed, “If you think a set of thumbscrews is enough to make me break my contract then you’ve earned your epithet, Mad Duke.”

“If it’s about a contract, I can give you a better one. Name your price.”

“Sorry, Your Madness, I don’t break contracts,” the Tenzu shrugged in his chains bruises dark against russet skin. “Not even upon threats of pain, dismemberment, or death.”

“Is that so.”

It wasn’t a question and the Tenzu didn’t answer, just met the Duke’s displeased gaze with another grin, the same grin that had never failed to provoke the guards he’d been assigned since Apollos’ escape. The Duke’s reaction wasn’t as dramatic- there was no swearing, just a tightening of his lips and a narrowing of already narrowed eyes- but the Tenzu picked up on it anyway and grinned all the wider.

“Grab his hands.”

The Tenzu contemplated kicking the man that came over and grabbed him but it’d be too much strain on his wings to go any further, pinned as they were to the wall. If he hadn’t been able to shut off the nerve endings in his extremities and his back, he was pretty sure he would’ve gone unresponsive days ago.

As it was, he was pretty sure his continued consciousness was disconcerting to his captors, used as they were to human prisoners and human limits. They knew how to press and break those, but the Tenzu was a creature all to his own and he’d known from the moment they’d gotten captured that he’d have to buy time for the others, time for Apollos to recover and to figure out a way to fix everything that had gone wrong here.

He wasn’t entirely pleased about spending the weeks being tortured in a dungeon, but at least he was getting paid for this. That, and destroying the Duke later would be so much more satisfying now.

“Tell me where your friends have gone.”

“Can’t do that, I don’t have friends.”

The Duke scowled at him, “Nuances. Where did they go?”

The Tenzu shrugged again, “Even if I could tell you, which I can’t, I wouldn’t. They’re long gone and I can’t wait for this to finally sink into your thick skull, dear Duke.”

Metal creaked as the Duke twisted the screw, pressing the spiked bar down. The Tenzu watched dispassionately as blood welled up, wondering if he should scream like before to lull them into thinking they were doing anything. It seemed like such work for nothing- keeping silent would infuriate the Duke far faster and be more entertaining.

Thank the Ancestors for their shapeshifting abilities and intricate studies.

Something cracked in his thumb and oh, yes, he definitely should have felt that. Too bad for the Duke he’d been prepared this time around.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Told you, Your Madness, it’ll take a hell of a lot more than some thumbscrews, chains, and some whips to make me break my contract,” he gave the man a lazy grin, letting his eyes swirl in a kaleidoscope of colours that most people couldn’t stare at for long.

The Duke made a disgusted noise and gestured for the guard to let go. He grabbed the chain that ran between the Tenzu’s wrists and yanked him forward, drawing fresh blood from the abused wings behind him. The Tenzu’s lazy grin didn’t falter, even though he knew that the more damage his wings took, the worse it’d be when he finally rebuilt his nerves to allow them to heal properly. In fact, all of this was continuously making things worse for himself, but it was worth it.

Hopefully.

“I will bend you to my will.”

The Tenzu snickered, “Sure you will.”

“What exactly is so funny?”

“Nothing you’d find funny. A bit of a pedantic mishap on your part.”

The Duke’s pale face coloured and he dropped the chain, “You piece of-”

“Now, now, dearest Duke, you wouldn’t be losing your temper, would you? Of course not, not in front of your men and all,” the Tenzu took the chance to lean back and smirked at the rage turning the Duke’s pale skin a rather ugly shade of purple.

“One of you! Go fetch Albert and tell him to bring the Devil’s Tongue.”

The guards shared a look and the Tenzu raised an eyebrow, “Now there’s a properly scary name. Are you going to keep me in suspense? How terribly rude of you.”

The Duke ignored him and gestured to another guard, “When Albert gets here, you are going to hold this fiend’s arms out straight and you are not to let go until I say so. Do you understand?”

The guard nodded fearfully and crouched next to the Tenzu, reeking of sweat and fear. It was an unpleasant tang and the Tenzu wondered how the man bore the stench of himself, willfully following the nonsensical trail of thoughts to keep himself from wondering what the ‘Devil’s Tongue’ was. Some sort of whip, like as not, but why the arms?

The Tenzu caught himself and focused on the guard’s patchy beard, coated in what was probably an unhealthy layer of oil that did nothing for the shape or the smell of it. He wondered just how flammable it was, if it was flammable at all.

His musings were interrupted by a scrawny man scurrying into the cell, a much put-upon guard following, carrying a leather satchel. A pungent scent followed the man in, almost medicinal, were it not for the sharpness of it.

The Duke smiled and clapped the man on the back, nearly sending him straight into the Tenzu’s lap, “Albert, glad to have you.”

“It is an honour to be here, Your Grace,” Albert dipped his head formally, but his eyes were fixed on the Tenzu.

The Tenzu smirked back at him.

Duke Myron scowled, “As I am sure you can tell, I am having a bit of a problem with our newest acquisition. Is the Devil’s Tongue prepared?”

“Yes, Your Grace. Will you be doing the honours?”

The Duke released Albert and shook his head, “No, I shall be leaving that to your expertise. He will not struggle.”

“Are you sure about that, oh mighty Duke?” The Tenzu gave him an insouciant grin.

Duke Myron’s scowl returned and deepened, “Guards, hold him.”

Once the Tenzu was successfully held down- one guard on each leg, one on each shoulder, and one holding his arms even though his hands were still trapped in the thumbscrews- Duke Myron gestured to Albert, who’d been busily digging in the satchel.

The Tenzu’s grin slipped just a fraction as Albert withdrew a vial of cardinal red liquid, all but glowing when it caught the torchlight, “What’s that, then?”

“A wonderful little thing that Albert created, a medicine that makes even the strongest will bend in submission,” Duke Myron grinned at the way the Tenzu’s eyes narrowed. “It curls through your veins and brings the most potent pleasure you can imagine. One dose is never enough. You will be begging me for more by tomorrow.”

The Tenzu considered his options and limitations- fighting and getting out was, in theory, possible, but he’d have to do it entirely on foot with the whole city swarming after him and who knew if Apollos and the others were safe enough yet to risk it. He’d told them that they’d have six weeks.

They were halfway through week two.

So he’d stay, then. Perhaps this drug would have no effect on him- it wasn’t like Albert could’ve built it for something like him anyway. The Tenzu wasn’t even sure if his people could get addicted to the same substances that humans could.

He couldn’t keep himself from tensing up as Albert came over with a strange little device in his hand, a little metal tube with what looked like a very long needle coming out of one end and a loop on the other end.

“It’ll only hurt worse if you tense up.”

The Tenzu raised an eyebrow, “Shouldn’t that make your job easier?”

Albert tapped along his arms and the Tenzu resisted the urge to kick out, “Not always, but this will have to do.”

The Tenzu inhaled sharply as Albert drove the needle into his skin, pushing the loop down on the other end of the tube. Something crawled from the tiny injury and the Tenzu immediately hated the sensation, shuddering.

Duke Myron gave a slow smile, “Now, we wait. Release him, but leave the chains.”

“What about the thumbscrews, sir?”

“Leave it, we’ll be using it in a few minutes to measure the effects,” he stepped forward to take Albert’s place and leaned over the Tenzu. “Where is your bravado now?”

The Tenzu inhaled, shoving the sensation of something foreign sliding into his veins and offered a fanged grin, “Still here, Your Madness.”

The Duke’s smile slipped and he stepped back, turning to Albert. He started talking, but his voice faded from the Tenzu’s interest as his arm started burning. Fire licked beneath his skin, tracing a burning path from the tiny puncture wound all the way up to his shoulder.

It hurt. How in all the hells the Duke thought this was meant to be addicting was beyond him.

He struggled to regain some semblance of focus as the Duke stepped back over, lips curled into a sinister smile that brought forth a sudden and deep longing in the Tenzu to smash that pasty face into a wall.

“I see it’s working.”

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

The Duke tossed his head back and laughed, “So it does work on you!”

The Tenzu hissed at him, slit pupils narrowing.

Albert hummed anxiously off to the side, “Your Grace, it doesn’t appear…”

Duke Myron waved him off, “He’s just struggling. Let’s see if we can’t give him a reason to stop.”

He leaned down and grabbed the thumbscrews, twisting violently.

Agony lanced through the Tenzu’s hands, mixing with the fire blistering through his veins until it was hard to tell what was the source of the pain. Even his wings had begun throbbing, tender skin torn and tattered by the spikes driven through it.

It hurt.

The Duke grinned.

The Tenzu closed his eyes shut and sank willfully into the dark.

[1-1snailxd-art]

Elements of Love - Ending Version 2 - *SPOILERS*

ch 1 – ch 2 – ch 3

Only read if you’ve read chapter 3 and chosen this ending

Logan asks to go to the hospital 

Hint - 🐰🐰🐇

.

.

.

“Take us to the hospital.”

Ethan and Remus were silenced by Logan’s sudden comment, the first he had spoken above a whisper since he revived Virgil. Relief flooded Remus’s chest at Logan’s words, and he watched Roman nod and step back from the bike. Ethan didn’t move and Remus’s brow deepened as he gave him a challenging glare.

“You heard him. I’m taking them to the hospital.”

“But that isn’t safe. Logan,” Ethan turned to his adoptive son in the back and rested a hand on top of his; “if you go to the hospital, they will ask questions. Do you really want to risk them taking you away?”

The look of resolve in Logan’s eyes shocked Ethan and he  withdrew his hand as they spoke.

“My partners lives are worth the risk.”

“Right. I’ll meet you guys at the hospital. Ride safe, Princey.”

“Ride swiftly, Duke.”

Roman moved clear as Remus took off, grabbing his helmet and passing it to Patton.

“What are you two doing?” Ethan grabbed Patton’s arm; voice borderline frantic. “You can’t follow them. It’s not safe.”

Pulling his arm free, Patton shook his head.

“Logan’s right. It’s worth the risk.”

Defeated, Ethan watched as his final two students mounted the red bike and sped away. It was an odd feeling to be standing alone breathing air suddenly very thick with smoke, the soft crackling of dying flames behind him. He had hoped to take is makeshift family home, tuck them safely inside and put the whole event behind him; but it seemed he wasn’t going to get what he wanted ever again.

The worst part was the cruel sense of déjà vu watching them all leave, only last time it was an ambulance that took his eldest son away while he was loaded into a vehicle of his own; cheek screaming in pain, but mind fixated on his children. He didn’t see his boys alive again after that and eventually left his position at the hospital to work in aged care.

Logan didn’t know the truth; none of them did. Ethan told them his boys were taken and killed by an unknown party; a lie that they believed wholeheartedly. The truth was something Ethan  didn’t like to admit to himself; he was responsible for their deaths. He was stricter with them never using their powers and they acted out because of it. Ethan had come home early to find them in the basement with a collection of houseplants and candles. The fight that broke out between them caused the eldest to lose control of the flames, quickly engulfing the house with the youngest trapped inside.

Smoke burning his throat finally pulled Ethan out of his thoughts and he climbed into his van and drove aimlessly through the town, too afraid to go to the hospital and face the truth of the situation.

*********************

It was amazing what a new day could bring. The winds were gentle and kept the smoke clear of the town’s main area, though it still stained the sky where it burned safely within containment lines. Clear skies and green grass made for a perfect mix as Remus laid on a blanket outside of the hospital. The peaceful sight made Ethan’s blood boil as he approached; kicking the other man’s foot to get his attention.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“What a harsh tone from the man that abandoned his child; though Logan isn’t the first, am I right.” Remus didn’t open his eyes, but a wicked grin spread across his face as Ethan stumbled over his words in response.

“I didn- how- what- what are you talking about?”

“Lying is pointless Dr Deceitful, I already know the truth about your boys.” Now the young man opened his eyes and looked  up at the elder. “You should’ve moved more than one town over; gossip can still travel far.”

“What do you know?”

“Enough to know you’re a liar.”

“Have you told them?” Remus’s grinned at Ethan’s defeated tone, knowing he had finally won.

“Don’t have to. Your little disappearing act  yesterday has just proven to the them how little you care; I didn’t have to say a word.”

“And yet you are laying outside like it’s spring break. How does that make you any better than me?”

“I’m here.” Rising to his feet, Remus stood at eye level with the older man and straightened his face; tone changing with each sentence spoken. “I’ve been here the whole time. I was here when the police asked questions. I was here when Patton collapsed in the waiting room. I was here when Roman cried for the first time in years. I was here when Virgil stopped breathing again!  And I was fucking here when they found Logan unresponsive on the floor! Where were you?”

All colour drained from Ethan’s face at Remus’s words. He fought to keep filling his lungs with air and swallowed the bile rising in his throat before speaking again.

“Is he… I mean, a-a- are they-”

“They’re alive if that’s what you’re asking.” Remus snapped, tired of watching the man try to play victim. “No thanks to you. I’d hate to think what would have happened if they’d listened to you.”

Crumbling under the man’s harsh glare, crueller than Roman’s despite their identical features, Ethan lowered his head in defeat.

“It would seem you were right, Remus. Thank y-”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t do it for you.”

“No. Of course not.” Running a hand through his hair, Ethan met Remus’s eyes again with a pleading look. “May I see them?”

“If you’re asking for my permission, you’re not going to get it.” He raised a clenched fist, steam snaking out from between his fingers. “If I had it my way, you’d have a symmetrical face. If I was you, I’d leave.”

“Is that a threat?” Though he had meant to sound firm, Ethan’s true fear was evident in his voice; eyes fixated on the steaming hand before him.

“More of a warning. If you do anything to harm or endanger Roman and his partners again…” he opened his hand to allow a burst of flame to flash; revelling in the way Ethan stepped back instinctively. “I won’t hold the flames back.”

Ethan nodded before carefully stepping around the younger man and heading towards the hospital. He had initially come to apologise for his absence and reconnect, but now he knew his safest option was to say goodbye. Remus was right, he couldn’t be trusted. He’d lost his own children and almost lost his adopted ones. It to mention Remus clearly had a better handle on his elemental abilities and would be a much better influence on the group than he was.

Remus watched as Ethan crossed the lawn to reach the hospitals side doors, phone silently vibrating in his pocket until he pulled it up to his ear.

“How you feeling, Princey?”

“Better. Patton has been given the all clear and Logan apparently regained consciousness. We might be able to visit in an hour or so.”

“Well, someone else is on their way up to see you.”

“Wha- Ethan?”

“Yeah, I just saw him walk past. You want me to come up.”

“I think…I think we will be alright. Can you get some fresh clothes from our place though? The spare key is in the broken doorbell button.”

“You are a royal pain, you know that right?”

Roman genuinely laughed on the other end, lifting the spirits of those within earshot.

“And you’re the Duke of simpleton. I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll be sure to have my face on properly this time. Bye.”

Remus didn’t expect to heal his relationship with his twin instantly, and had respected his need for space that day, but it was comforting to make him laugh. It made him hopeful for the future as he grabbed his blanket and headed to the carpark to collect his bike.

********************

Ethan kept his visit brief that day, checking on Roman and Patton’s conditions before being allowed to see Logan due to his parental status. He confessed his motives were selfish to keep the group away from professional medical attention; leaving his visit short due to Logan’s weakened state. Before he left, Ethan pulled Roman aside and recommended he worked with his brother on his elemental control and forgot all of his teachings.

“Are you leaving us?” Roman questioned, already predicting the answer.

“I will still be around, but I think this is proof that my teachings are ineffective. I’m not an elemental of the same degree as you all, and it was wrong for me to act like a master when I have no experience. You all deserve better.”

With an affirming nod, Ethan gave Roman’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before he left; never planning on crossing paths again.

Remus was glad to see the former doctor’s van pulling away as he returned to the hospital. A weight lifted from his chest knowing his deceitful influence was no longer going to be a factor in his brother’s life, and he entered the hospital hopeful for the future.

********************

I’d like to say this story had a happy ending, but not all stories do. Choices have consequences, and Logan chose to side with Remus over his adoptive parent. The decision meant his life was saved and Virgil got the medical attention he needed; but it also tore him away from Ethan and brought the group to the attention of the authorities. Thankfully, Remus was able to expertly fabricate a tale of survival of both fire and lightning that satisfied all parties that they weren’t arsonists or reckless thrill seekers; just a group of young adults that chose the wrong time to be out on their bikes in the forestry.

Logan remained under medical observation for a few days before his eventual discharge. The wind seemed to cool the day Logan was released, happily shifting the trio’s hair as they headed out to Patton’s car.

Visits to the hospital became a regular event for them over the weeks that followed. From individual visits to Virgil and group dinners held in his room, they made sure he was alone as little as possible.

Patton looked at the clock, sighing as he realised it was time for him to head off for an afternoon class. Roman would be finishing work within the hour for some alone time with Virgil before Logan arrived with afternoon tea.

“I’ve got to go now, Virgil.” Patton said softly, squeezing his partners hand and leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead. “But Roman won’t be too far behind. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

He never expected a reply to his question, but he felt Virgil’s hand shift slightly. Mouth dropping open Patton watched Virgil’s features shift, breathing adjusting from its usual constant rhythm.

“Virgil? Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

Tears slipped from Patton’s eyes as he felt Virgil’s hand squeeze slightly again, and he reached over to tap the call button on the side of his bed.

“Well now I’m not going anywhere.” He laughed, leaning in close and allowing his lips to brush against Virgil’s; the slight tingle against his lips let him know they were going to be okay. “Take all the time you need, Vee. We’ll be here when you’re ready to wake up.”

____________________________________

That was the end. Want to jump to another universe and try the other ending - CLICK HERE

Let me know your thoughts on this story and the ending. I’m just glad this project is finally done.

💜🐌

___________________________________

What else have I done:

The Shield to your Sword (WIP - A fantasy/magic au - Prinxiety (Royal Roman and orphan Virgil - they’ll admit to their love eventually), Virgil angst, non binary healer Logan, *spoiler* Patton, cursed Deceit and ridiculous Remus)

Libraries are for Meetings (ongoing WIP - Human/University au with Royality and developing Analogical. Slow burn and heavily focused on a grieving group of friends that Virgil slowly becomes a part of to better himself.)

And more….

Writing Master Post

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles

[moriartea39-blog]

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[theonlyoneshere]

What if... Johannah had left the ascendants instead of her mother?

“Mother, please. I’ve made up my mind.”

Siobhán halted her protests promptly. Despite her pleas, and the overwhelming sadness she felt may crush her, she had to admit she was proud of her child; of how selfless she had grown up to be.

“You don’t have to go.”

“No, I do,” Jo insisted, barely able to keep her voice steady, “I know what I’m giving up, believe me I’ve thought of nothing else this past week. What good is enlightenment and the power that comes with it if we cannot help those in need? How could I sit back and watch eternity pass whilst I turn a blind eye to those who suffer throughout the aeons?”

“I-”

What could she say to that? Siobhán had long since passed the moment she could still call herself her daughters teacher. Johannah was nearing sixty years old, Siobhán almost eighty-five; though neither of them looked a day over thirty. The twenty year head start Siobhán had practicing magic had lost its relevance. Dare she say it, her daughter had even surpassed her skill by now.

“You can still come with me,” Jo said, “We can spend a lifetime together still, and do some good with our magic.”

Siobhán shook her head. “No. No, if I stay then maybe one day I can help you ascend without breaking any rules. I can bring you back to me.”

Jo swallowed. They both knew that wasn’t true, there was no chance the others would let her do that, even for her child.

“I love you, mother.”

“I love you too,  a stóirín.”

The shift from the carefully curated climate of the halls of ascension was jarring. As Jo passed through the arch back into Ireland, she was immediately greeted by heavy wind and cold rain. She turned to glance behind her, and saw only the forest. Her ability to enter the halls had been taken from her, and so the gateway was nothing more than a naturally grown arch between two trees. She pulled her hood up and clutched her cloak tightly around her shoulders, and began the long walk back to the village of her birth.

Jo had never experienced magic as a mortal; her mother told her it could be taxing, but it was something she would have to experience for herself to figure out. Thus, her journey took her almost twenty four hours. twenty four longer than teleportation, but she couldn’t risk using up her strength. Smoke on the horizon at dawn told her she was almost home. This was why she had given up her chance at ascension. Plague was ravaging her home, bodies being burned to try and control the spread.

She didn’t remember this place, having been only five years old when she left. No one would remember her either. The daughter of the witch was well known at the time. but everyone who knew her was fifty years older, and would expect the young Johannah to have aged those same years. Perhaps her eyes, with their distinctive individual colourings might call up some recognition, but otherwise she had the protection of her youthful appearance.

“I’d keep walking, settle elsewhere tonight.”

The voice made her jump. She turned to the source, an old man approaching off to the side of the track. It was good to hear her mother tongue again. True Gaeilge, not translated by her magic.

“My name is Johannah,” she called out to him, “I’ve come to help.”

“Help? Help us how?”

“I am a witch,” she said hesitantly. Views of magic could well have changed in the last half century.  “Whatever pestilence has taken hold of this land, I can expel it.”

The man licked his lips and stared her down, mulling over her claim. “Why not, we’ve nothing else left to try.”

He turned and began making his way slowly towards the village, staying away from the dirt track. Was he sick? Did he think she was? Either way, it was of little consequence. She walked at his pace in silence until they reached the village entrance.

“Stay here,” he told her as he himself kept walking, “Don’t come in until we agree to let you help. We can’t let you leave if you might spread this sickness.”

Johannah waited obediently, pacing back and forth, trying to find an angle that would let her see more of the village. No matter where she stood, the view was the same. Emptiness. No market trading goods, no children playing in the streets. Her thoughts raced as she wondered what plague had gripped these people. The minutes passed until a small group approached her. Three women and five men, including the man from before.

“What is your business here, witch,” asked one of the women. She spat the final word with venom.

“I’m here to help. I mean to-”

“What is your price?” the same woman interrupted her.

“Price?” Jo asked. Had she not known better, she would have believed this woman held a personal grudge against her from the way she spoke.

A different woman spoke now.  “What is it we have that you want, that you would present yourself to us as our salvation?”

Well, this certainly answered her question about the current feelings towards magic.

“I ask no reward,” she insisted, “On my honour, I a-”

“Honour!” the youngest of the group shouted. A man, perhaps in his late forties, “Witches have no honour to swear upon. A self serving breed, the lot of you.”

It was clear to Jo they would not let her in to help unless she named the price they believed she asked. She wasn’t doing this for thanks, but still it hurt to know that the people she might have grown up with would never see her true colours.

“You think I hold no interest in stopping this disease?” she asked, straightening her back and letting power flow through her. Her eyes faintly glowed and the sky briefly darkened. “You have failed to fight it on your own, I wish to protect the rest of the land from your failure!”

As she relaxed, the sky returned to its lighter shade of grey. When this was over, she would have to find a new home. But at least these people would live.

Jo had managed to convince the elders to provide her with a home close to the centre of town. Fear of her, and of the plague, had been a powerful negotiating tool. This first week had been exhausting. She had spent her time tending to the most sick; stabilising them, slowly restoring their health. Curing one at a time was easy. Finding the source such that she could perform a mass cleansing of the disease was harder. Days blurred together. She found herself not remembering most of her actions for the sameness of them. Blurred days became blurred weeks, and she still understood nothing save the symptoms. An infected person would grow pale, and weak. Emaciated despite being given sustenance. And eventually, after being kept from death by Jo’s magic, and after many cleansing spells, they would begin to find nourishment in their food once more. One day they would leave her care in good health, and Jo would have made no progress in her research.

It had been autumn when Jo entered the village. It was spring now, and fatigue was finally coming her. The last few days had been a struggle, despite the low number of patients she tended to. Dawn was breaking through her window, and she was considering whether she could give herself a day off when her door was opened violently.

“Get out, now.”

Jo sat upright with a start, true anger in her eyes, unlike that she had displayed when she first met this woman at the outskirts of the village.

“Excuse me? How dare you enter my home unannounced!?”

“Not your home, not anymore,” the woman replied, tossing Jo’s clothes at her from the rack, “We’ve no more sick. Our deal’s up. You can leave now, go back to whatever dark place you call home, witch.”

Could it be true? Had she taken so long to find the cause that she had eradicated the disease by curing everyone, one by one? She thought back over the last week. No new patients. None the week before that either. The last one had walked out yesterday. She hadn’t even noticed, it had seemed harder than ever to keep the last ones alive.

Her anger faded, taken over by her exhaustion, and relief. Despite how they treated her, she was glad she had saved them.

“I’ll be gone by noon,” she said quietly, dropping her gaze.

She kept her word, resting as long as she could and quietly slipping away before the sun reached its peak. Tears flowed silently as she walked. She had known from the moment they had fearfully accepted her help that it would end like this, being tossed out with nothing but the clothes on her back, yet she was still unprepared. Perhaps she could have managed were she not so tired. By evening, she was almost collapsing, barely able to support her own weight on her legs, let alone keep walking. She had to stop, find somewhere to rest for a few days before looking for somewhere to call home.

To the south, within walking distance of the path, she spied a small woodland. It would have to do. With the last of her strength, Johannah magically transported herself to the trees and reshaped a small area of them into a simple cabin. Sheltered, hidden, warm. Somewhere to recover. Jo passed out on the hard wooden floor.

Jo woke up, shivering and hungry. She glanced outside and saw it was evening, yet lighter than it had been when she lost consciousness. Had she been asleep an entire day? Or perhaps more... Water to drink, food to eat, water to bathe in. The last was a struggle to conjure in her current state, but she needed it. The hot water was the first modicum of relief she had felt in who knew how long. For today it seemed it would also be the only relief. Her drinking water barely quenched her thirst, and the food was even less satisfying. Conjured food was always bad compared to the real thing, but she never remembered it being this unfulfilling. For a fraction of a second, a dreaded fear entered her mind that she had fallen ill with the mysterious disease. The panic came and passed, and she dismissed the notion as irrational. She was immune to all diseases and non-magical poisons. That was part of her physiology now, the ascended couldn’t take that from her.

Only two hours after she had regained consciousness, Jo returned to rest, this time in her bed at least. When she awoke, dawn had yet to break. She was cold, freezing to the bone and yet at the same time her hunger felt like burning her alive from the inside out. She cared not that it wasn’t possible; she was sick. She knew now that conjured food wasn’t good enough, she needed something real. Even that would barely sate her, but whatever strength it could provide would be needed to cure herself.

Jo stepped outside, shivering. Her layers did nothing to insulate her from the cold she was feeling; the gentle morning breeze felt like a howling winter gale on her exposed hands and face. Steeling her resolve, she began to wander deeper into the trees, accepting she was now at the mercy of nature to have grown something she could eat and placed it in her path.

Agony. To be given hope and have it ripped away was nothing short of agony. Jo had had the good fortune to come across a large spread of plants growing various berries. In an instant she was rushing up to the plants and dropping to her knees, ripping the fruits from their stems and messily eating them with glee. And yet, nothing. And the more she ate, the more nothing she felt. She had spent the last of her energy, her willpower, to reach this place, and her reward was the knowledge that she was going to die for saving a village that hated her.

A thicket nearby rustled as Jo curled up on the ground to sleep one last time. She didn’t care for the disturbance. She was beyond helping, and besides which, help wasn’t coming. This was just wildlife, coming to feed as she did. A deer, old and injured. Recently injured even, still bleeding lightly. 

In her half sleep, Jo took a sudden breath in, deep and steady. The deer noticed her movement, and stopped its approach. Her body knew what it needed, and Jo didn’t have the strength to resist it. She sat up suddenly, her second wind already beginning to fade. The deer reacted instantly, turning and bounding away, but already caught in Jo’s magical grip. She dragged the animal towards her nearly three feet before it broke free of her snare. As it escaped, Jo managed to draw a small stream of blood from the creature’s wound that flowed towards her outstretched hand, pooling into a sphere that floated an inch above her palm. She closed her hand around the sanguine liquid and felt it pass into her. She began to feel warm again, barely. As her mind returned from the brink, she finally began to understand.

“Vampirism...” she muttered under her breath, lying back down and staring up at the dawning sky. The villagers were afflicted with vampirism; a rare, perhaps entirely unique form of vampirism, but vampirism nonetheless. Spreading as disease rather than passed on individually as a curse. Her slow, one by one, approached at curing the affliction had allowed it to mutate and eventually infect her, and turn her into something entirely new.

Jo screamed up at the sky, wishing she had passed away before the animal arrived. The few drops she had drawn wouldn’t last her very long, but they had turned her situation into a terrible choice. Die, or take blood. From what she knew about the affliction of a vampire, she could survive on animal blood, but human would always call to her, and if she let her guard down even once, she could never go back.

As terrible as the choice was, Jo couldn’t sit back and let herself die, not now. First, she had to feed sufficiently, then find shelter from the sun that was soon to rise. After that she could make her choices, and start to figure out what aspects of the old lore held true for whatever new breed of vampire-ascendant hybrid she had become.

[takadasaiko]

Fallen Series: Not Like Him

FFN II AO3

Summary: Future Fic. When Clootie gets ahold of Bobo to use as bait to lure out Wynonna, the last thing the Revenant expects is for her to come for him.

Warning: Brief torture at the beginning.

Not Like Him

The blow to the head had left his vision pulsing, but it had been the hit to the back that had driven him to his knees, hitting the frozen ground hard. He couldn't move, couldn't straighten himself up in time to see the steel toed boot that slammed into his ribs, sending him crashing the rest of the way to the ground.

Bobo Del Rey lay on his black in the snow, desperately trying to draw air into his lungs even though each breath brought new spikes of pain with it. His vision was going in and out and he knew he needed to pull himself up or the next blow would hurt even more.

Not that he'd get very far, and Clootie knew that.

He heard the demon's low chuckle before he was able to focus in on where he'd leaned into his line of sight, nudging his battered ribs hard enough to draw a pained gasp from him. Bobo swallowed it back, clenching his teeth stubbornly and narrowing his eyes up at him.

They had gotten ahold of him on the edge of town, the newly formed alliance with the Earps still on shaky ground when it came to handling them and the handful of Revenants that had remained loyal to him when Clootie had called them all in. He was still fighting Bulshar's control himself, and he'd missed… something. Even now he wasn't sure what, but if they had caught up to him just five minutes later they would have had Waverly as well. He was questioning his ability to get himself out of this at the moment, but he knew he wouldn't have been able to get both of them out.

Clootie had never been fond of being ignored. He bent down and took hold of Bobo's dual-coloured hair, hauling him up and drawing pained yelp from him. "You will useful to me, Robert, if you choose to be or not."

Bobo dragged a painful breath in, the air burning his lungs and he could almost feel the cracked ribs shifting dangerously. He struggled to get his feet under him to keep from being held up by his hair and his boots caught a patch of ice. He heard the satisfied laugh that left the demon as he released him, Bobo slamming hard back to the ground and he writhed for a moment, no room in his mind for anything but the overwhelming pain.

Slowly it started to creep back, letting him work through it enough to focus his eyes. He didn't like the look on Clootie's face.

A howl echoed across the field as the heavy boot slammed down on Bobo's outstretched leg, the blow strengthened by Bulshar's demonic powers and Bobo could feel the snap radiate through his entire body.

"There we go," Clootie chuckled. "We need them to hear you."

The words took a moment to work through the pain, but even as the spots dancing across his vision blocked out the cloudy sky above him, a rough laugh managed to escape. Joke was on Clootie if he thought he was using the Revenant as bait. There was no way in hell Wynonna Earp was coming for him.

He wasn't sure how long he was out, but he came around to voices. They filtered slowly through the fog of pain that came with consciousness, and he was having trouble opening his eyes so that he could see who the voices belonged to belonged to.

"You can't just move him! What if his neck is broken or something?"

"Waves, he's a Revenant. Even if he did break it, it'll heal. We have to get him out of here."

"Or we can just leave him."

"That's not an option."

"I'm just sayin' they didn' leave him out here for nothin'. Bulshar's usin' 'im for somethin'."

A low groan escaped Bobo and he finally forced his eyes open. He found three faces coming into view immediately: Waverly, Haught, and…. He groaned again, this time louder. "Didn't think you'd be that stupid," he managed, his gaze catching Wynonna's.

"We came to rescue you. You're welcome, asshole," she snapped.

He knew he should be grateful. He hadn't expected it, hadn't dared to hope for it. It seemed like every time they had a chance to choose to trust him or not, they went with the latter. But here they were, leaned over him and trying to help, and it had to be the one time that it could get the Heir killed and blow everything to hell.

"Clootie knew you would," he managed through gritted teeth. "That was the point."

A strange expression crossed Wynonna's face and he thought it might have been guilt. "C'mon. Dolls, help me get him up."

"If they're coming, you need to go," the deputy marshal said as he moved towards the injured Revenant. "Doc and I will get him someplace safe."

Bobo tensed immediately at the reference to John Henry and he turned as menacing of a glare as he could manage on the gunslinger who was proving to hold a grudge as strong as Bobo's own. This was going to hurt.

"I'm not going to-" Wynonna started, but was cut off.

"We got this," Holliday said firmly. "We're not what Clootie wants. Go."

Well, at least he could depend on Holliday having one priority set.

Wynonna hesitated a moment before turning a stern look on Bobo. "He doesn't get to win and he doesn't get any of us in the fight. You got it?"

"He gets you then he's won," Bobo said lowly, his voice more strained than he was comfortable with. He could already feel his body pulling him back towards unconsciousness, the brief conversation sapping his energy.

She watched him for a long moment before Waverly pulled her back. "They're coming."

He watched indecision flash across her face, but it was brief. She nodded firmly, shot Doc Holliday a look, and was in her way.

Suddenly Dolls had ahold of his arm. "This is going to hurt," he warned, and hauled Bobo to his feet. The Revenant felt gravity try to fight him and moved to catch himself, but is leg wouldn't hold his weight and he found himself pitching forward and back into darkness.

If Bobo came to at any point in the escape, he didn't remember it. The next time his brain was able to register that there was anything happening around him at all he found himself staring up at a ceiling, not an open sky. He shifted, regretting it instantly as pain exploded and it took a long moment for him to get his bearings back. He laid there, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut against it. As the worst of it finally eased he could feel sheets wrapped up in his death grip and he forced himself to loosen his hold, making sure to lie very still this time.

He had no idea where he was. He was lying on a bed in a room, but past that he didn't recognize it. Slowly and very, very carefully he turned his head to get a better look. There was an old, painted bedside table pushed up between the bed and the wall, the white and green checkered lamp and a teddy bear that had seen better days the only occupants to it. The ceiling had been normal enough, but the walls were a pale yellow, almost as if they had faded over the years. He let his gaze follow the wall around, having something to focus on helping to pull him around a little better.

There were a few other odds and ends scattered within his line of sight, but for the most part the room looked like it hadn't been lived in in some time. It certainly didn't look like some place Clootie would have stored him away if he'd gotten hold of him.

Movement at the door startled him and he grunted against the pain, trying to focus through it to see who was standing there. Blue eyes finally focused in on Purgatory's sheriff, standing with his arms crossed irritability across his chest. "Nedley," he managed, his voice hoarse and scratchy as it left his lips. He cleared his throat, pushing down the urge to sit up. It wouldn't help the balance of power if he passed out again.

"You know," the other man drawled, "I really need to start asking before I agree to one if Wynonna's favours."

Bobo blinked at him for a moment. "Where am I?"

"My house. Wynonna needed somewhere off the beaten path to let you heal up."

"And you volunteered?" the Revenant asked skeptically.

"Like I said, need to clarify favours before I agree." He took a step forward as Bobo started to try to move. "Listen, you're not in great shape. That leg's... what?"

A smirk quirked Bobo's lips and he held Nedley's gaze long enough that the other man started to shift uncomfortably. There he was. The years had toughened him up, but Bobo could see the signs of the young cop that had worked under Ward, fumbling through trying to figure Purgatory out from the lawman's side of things and getting no real help from the half-drunken Earp. The one that had desperately tried to regain control over the town after Ward's death and had learned the hard way that it couldn't be done without Bobo Del Rey. He had tried, but it had crashed into utter chaos for several weeks following the Heir's death and the Revenant leader had let it, his attention focused elsewhere and perfectly happy to leave the new sheriff to realize just what Purgatory would be without him. The lesson had been hard learned, but Nedley had finally realized just where the power lay in town and he had stopped trying to topple Bobo off his throne.

Bobo needed that power now. Even laid out in a bed that could have only belonged to a young Chrissy Nedley growing up, the healing process barely begun even though it had been hours since the injuries had been dealt, he refused to look as weak as he felt.

Nedley pulled in a deep breath, seeming to try to steady himself. He met Bobo's gaze and pushed the air back out through his nose. "You know, I remember the first time I came across you. Fresh into the police department you look like everything that shouldn't be happening in our town. I thought Ward was working some sort of angle with you for a while, and then nothing. Every time I'd come close to one of your boys he'd stop me."

"Ward knew how it worked," Bobo answered, the words riding out on a low growl and he didn't miss the way Nedley flinched when his eyes flashed red.

"Got him killed in the end," he managed after a moment. "His father too, and I imagine his father before that. Now Wynonna is striking deals with you."

"And you don't approve?"

"Wynonna Earp will do what she's gonna do, but you don't have the best track record with helping Earps."

Bobo settled a little deeper into the pillows under him, narrowing his eyes as he did.

"She trusts you though. Hell if I know why. You're not different than any of the others, maybe worse."

"Oh I'm much worse," Bobo agreed with viscous grin. "Comes with the territory, but you know that much by now."

"I do. I know what you are - knew even before Dolls came to town - and this may be my one chance, so I want to make something clear." He didn't step any closer, but Bobo thought he saw the sheriff square his shoulders a bit. "I'm not going to let you do to Wynonna what you've done to the others."

The statement was simple enough and the threat was clear, even if they both knew there was no way to back it up. As soon as Bobo was on his feet again he would be fully capable of crushing the sheriff at his whim if he so chose. Even so, there he was making his opinion abundantly clear. Bobo wasn't sure if he it was bravery or foolishness.

After a long moment of silence from the Revenant Nedley cleared his throat awkwardly, pulling his attention back around. Bobo was actively and openly working with Wynonna now, and with that - if he liked it or not - meant working with those around her. Even those that he had purposefully kept out of the loop up until that point. That wasn't weakness, he reminded himself. That was just the price of alliances.

Bobo winced and grit his teeth stubbornly, shifting so that he forced himself up in his elbows, the closest he could get to sitting. There was a rush of pain, but he didn't black out. That seemed like a good sign. At least a step in the right direction, even if he could still feel the painful pull against his battered ribs and even into his leg with the shifting of weight. He swallowed hard before speaking. "At this point, we all survive this together or we all die together, and I ain't goin' back to hell."

Nedley eyed him for a moment. "And you think Wynonna's got what it takes to beat this…. demon."

"She better or we're all screwed."

He could see the sheriff weighing the words, trying to decide what he thought about them and the whole ordeal. He didn't know Bobo's past. Few did beyond Wynonna. Nedley certain't didn't, and Bobo had no interest in sharing that particular bit of history openly even if it might make things a little easier in that moment.

Nedley's phone began to buzz in his pocket and he pulled it out,glancing at the ID before turning what was likely supposed to be a stern look on Bobo. "Don't move."

The sarcastic response never quite made it from the Revenant's lips as he eased himself back against the pillows, the conversation and movement leaving him spent. At least he could feel the healing starting to take place. It was slow, but there'd been plenty of damage done.

He must have dozed off again, because when he worked his way towards wakefulness again he could hear two voices at the bedroom door. One was Nedley's, gruff and irritable, and as Bobo listed harder he thought the other belonged to Wynonna Earp.

"...was that son of a bitch Benny."

"You thought it might be."

"It was too convenient that he just happened to know where Bulshar had Bobo that last. Loyalty my ass." Wynonna huffed a mirthless laugh. "He got what was coming to him. Maybe that'll keep others from turning."

"I wouldn't count on it. They're not exactly the honest types." Bobo could feel Nedley's gaze slide over to him, but he didn't move. "I know you say you trust him, and he knows what to say to make it sound like the truth, but I still can't place what he's getting out of this."

There was a stretch of silence and Wynonna sighed. "It's…. complicated, but I trust that he's going to do whatever he thinks he has to to bring Clootie down."

"Why?"

He wasn't sure if she was holding back on his past out of respect to his privacy or if she just didn't think anyone who hadn't seen it would believe it. It didn't matter. Randy Nedley didn't need to know. "Just like I said," Bobo said, drawing their attention to him as he forced his eyes open, "I have no intention of goin' back to hell. Breakin' the curse should handle that."

Nedley huffed and shook his head, moving out the door and leaving Wynonna standing there awkwardly. She stuffed her hands in her pockets. "He might-"

"Easier the devil you know than the one you don't," Bobo murmured and she nodded.

"I guess." She turned her gaze down to her boots. "How're you feeling?"

"Healing. Slowly, but healing."

"Yeah, you're slow healing is still something humans would be jealous of."

"Steep price for it."

"Do you really think killing Bulshar will end the curse?"

Bobo let his eyes slip closed for a moment, considering his words carefully. "Hope so."

"What happens to you then?"

"Don't know for sure."

"Just not hell."

He opened his eyes and they flashed dangerously. "I'm not goin' back."

"Gotcha," she said, raising her hands in a nonthreatening manner. "Listen… I should let you get some rest. I just wanted to check in and…."

"Ain't your fault," he breathed and her gaze snapped to meet his. He could see it there. It was the same look she'd had as she stooped over him lying in the snow, broken and beaten and bleeding. Guilt. They didn't have time for her to wallow in it. "You got enough on you. What Clootie did to me was about my part in it. Him getting a chance at you was just his bonus." He narrowed his eyes. "A chance you shouldn't have given him."

Wynonna's gaze hardened at that. "Listen, asshole. You're part of this team now. We're not going to leave you to die. I'm not Wyatt."

The last statement took him by surprise and he let the words rattle around his mind for a moment. "No," he finally breathed. "No you are not."

She nodded. "Get some sleep and don't give Nedley too much hell. I think he's still pissed at you for poisoning the whole damn town."

Bobo's lips quirked up. "Gotta learn to let things go. Not like anybody actually died."

Wynonna rolled her eyes and shook her head, but he thought he saw the smallest flash of amusement in her eyes as she grumbled at him to get some sleep and that she'd be back later.

He settled back, left alone in the quiet room. No, Wynonna Earp was not her great great grandfather. She was better. He never thought he would admit it, even if just to himself, but she was better, and if he had read the situation right, that was how they were going to win.

Notes: I realized that we've never actually seen Nedley and Bobo interact face to face in canon and I feel like that needs to change in S3. It could be a lot of fun.

[marvelous-heroimagines]

The Bronx: Part 4

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Angst, imprisonment, fighting/training

A/N: This was supposed to be a 5 part series, but it might be 6 now… who knows!

I know that the new/extra characters that are included in this part are xmen and not canon in the mcu, but yeah.

Feedback is always appreciated. Let me know if you want to be added to the tags list.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Your eyelids feel heavy as you start to regain consciousness. You force them open, and have to stop yourself from squeezing them shut again from the harsh fluorescent light that was blinding you. You’re confused for a second, not recognising the blank, concrete ceiling and walls that surround you.

Suddenly, you get a feeling that you’re not along. You jolt up in the uncomfortable bed, and a man in a suit is calming watching you; his face portraying no expression and his left leg resting on his right. Your eyes start to wildly assess the room you’re in. It’s devoid of personal touch and while the temperature isn’t cold, the lack of colour in the room made you shiver. There were a few cabinets around the room, they look to be made out of steel, furthering the cold feel of the room.

The man at the end of your bed clears his throat, drawing your attention to him, “Miss Y/L/N, you must be very confused,”

You don’t say anything, but maintain eye contact. Trying to hold his attention to your face, you try and use your powers. Taking deep breaths, his words drain away as you concentrate on using your fire. There didn’t appear to be an vegetation around, which limited you to water, fire, and air; and you wanted to do as much damage as possible so you could get away.

But as hard as you try, you can’t use your fire. A flash of a frown crosses your features before you wipe it off, not wanting to tip him off. You try your water next. Nothing. Air. Nothing.

Your powers weren’t working. You start to panic and completely forget about trying to be sneaky. Your head snaps down and you stare at your hands, frightened that you’d lost them completely, or you couldn’t control them at all anymore.

The man clears his throat again, demanding your attention, “Your powers won’t work,” he says calmly, “Most of this facility is made with material that suppresses the genes that give you your elemental powers,”

You stare at him, scared and starting to panic. You can’t use your powers, and who knows what these people wanted to do with you. You had to escape. The man keeps talking and you only half listen as you try to formulate a plan in your mind.

“Over the years, the US government - and the whole world for that matter - found that the emergence of powered individuals has grown exponentially, and it has become evident that these powered individuals, such as yourself, can’t always control their powers… You’d know all about that,”

You pretend like your fully listening, but you’re actually scoping the room for anything to knock him out with. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the room that wasn’t bolted to the floor or walls, and without your wind, you wouldn’t be able to break them off. You keep scoping the room.

“After the Sokovia Accords were passed, the US government gave us the green light to create this facility and help powered individuals to learn their powers and control them,” he continues.

You decide that you had to make a break for the door, and hope you caught him off guard enough to escape. Hoping that he doesn’t notice, you shift in the bed, and suddenly jump out. Your legs are a little weak, but you force them to work. Your heart is racing as you run towards the door.

Suddenly, you’re stopped as he catches your arm and your jerked back.

“Y/N!” he bellows, throwing you back onto the bed, “We’re trying to help you!” you stare at him, your heart still racing and adrenaline still pumping through your veins, “While you are not a prisoner here, we can not let you leave until you have your powers under control… For the safety of those around you,”

“My dad,” you whisper, mostly to yourself as you realise he would be freaking out you never came home,

“He knows you’re safe,” the man says, “We had to… Bend the truth a little. But he’s not worried,”

“What’d you tell him?” you ask,

“That you’ve been recruited by the government for a job opportunity. He thinks this will improve your chances of getting into Harvard,” a small amused smile creeps onto his lips.

You sink back into the bed. There was no way you were getting out of here without their permission.

“Think of this place as more of a… Summer camp,” he says with amusement.

~~1 week later~~

You asked every chance you got if you could leave, to which the answer was always no. They always reminded you that while you weren’t imprisoned, you couldn’t leave until they were satisfied with your ability to control your powers. Your days consisted of nothing but training and eating. You weren’t allowed to socialise with the other kids unless you had to train together, but you’d learnt everyone’s name by now and you were told that soon you’d be training together with them so that you could learn to use your powers in battle against other enhanced. Everyone was confused by that; were they training you to fight, or to have a better understanding of your DNA.

The first few days of training were hard, it was taking a lot out of you to try and control your powers; especially when you were unable to use them everywhere except the training gym. But you were getting there. You had to keep reminding yourself that as soon as you mastered your powers, they’d let you go. You hadn’t heard from your dad, and you were horribly homesick for a familiar face.

A soft knock sounds at your door. Looking up from your book, you see the man that had first introduced you to this facility, Mr. Harrison, standing in your doorway.

“Come in,” you say, almost as a question. No one was allowed to close their doors until lights out, and inviting someone into your room seemed redundant.

Mr. Harrison gave you a thankful smile and stepped aside. Suddenly, Secretary of State, Thaddeus Ross, and Tony Stark appeared and wandered into your room.

“Thank you, Wayne,” Secretary Ross said to Mr. Harrison with a small nod, “You can shut the door,”

Mr. Harrison followed his orders and left, pulling your room door shut behind him. You stayed silent as you watched the two men approach you, Tony Stark grabbing your desk chair and taking a seat, while Secretary Ross stood tall. Both of them were staring at you, and you didn’t know who to look at.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Secretary Ross finally says, “How are you settling in?”

“I’d like to leave,” you immediately say, cutting to the chase,

Tony Stark smirks as he glances up at Thaddeus Ross, who just let out a long sigh.

“Yes,” Secretary Ross drawls out, “I’ve been told that you’re being quite persistent with your wish to leave-”

“If I’m not a prisoner, as everyone keeps reminding me, why can’t I go? I miss my family,” your voice was strong and unwavering, which surprised you as much as it surprised the two men,

“You almost killed two men before we got to you,” Secretary Ross reminds you, “You were not in control of your powers. We just want to help you get a handle of them before we risk the population,”

“Those men attacked me,” you defend,

“I understand,” Secretary Ross nods, “But that doesn’t change the fact you exploded into a 3000 degree fire ball and ascended into the air,”

You watch as Tony Stark’s eyes widen at Ross’ words. He was clearly impressed.

“Kid,” Tony addresses you, “Ross knows that you helped Rogers… You’re lucky you’re not in The Raft,”

“So I am a prisoner?” you cock an eyebrow at the billionaire,

“No, no,” Secretary Ross says, shooting a warning look at Tony, “The Raft is the worst case scenario,”

You stared at Secretary Ross, completely understanding the threat that he had subtly issued.

“Can you bring my dad to see me?” you ask, changing the subject,

Secretary Ross clicks his tongue, pretending like he was thinking, “I don’t think that is wise. The moment your father sees this place, he’ll know it isn’t a government job that’ll improve your college application,”

You nod. As much as you missed your dad, you didn’t want him to know about your powers, or worry.

“Y/N,” Tony addresses you, “Peter wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry,” you stomach drops at the mention of you boyfriend - ex-boyfriend? - and you realise that you missed Peter too, “He was just trying to protect you,”

You nod, your mouth too dry and your mind too messy to craft a well worded response.

“Now,” Secretary Ross cuts in, “Stark is here to make sure that we are treating you kids ethically and not doing anything untoward,”

The two men stare at you for several second, until you realise that they’re waiting for you to answer, “Oh. Yes, we are fed and given beds,” the sarcasm in your voice was subtle, but you can see in Tony’s face that he heard it, “It’s great,” you say dryly.

Secretary Ross’ jaw clenches as he stares at you, but he doesn’t say anything to you, “Well, there you go, Stark,” he says, glancing at Tony. Tony’s eyes were burning into yours, looking as if he was searching for what you weren’t saying.

Tony finally nods and stands up, the metal chair scraping along the floor as he pushed it back under your desk.

“Oh, Mr. Ross,” you call out just as the men are making their leave, “If you’re just helping me understand and control my powers, why am I about to start training against the other powered kids?”

A silence falls over the room, both men staring at you in surprise. Secretary Ross doesn’t reply, just places a firm hand on Tony’s back and pushes him out of your room.

~~3 weeks later~~

You had to admit, you were learning more about your powers, and you were feeling more in control of them every day. You were able to use two powers at the same time now, which made you more powerful, and you’d recently been trying to master using your powers with different parts of your body, not just your hands.

You still hadn’t any visitors after Secretary Ross and Tony Stark. You knew that your dad couldn’t visit, for the sake of keeping your powers a secret; but you wished every day that you’d get to see Peter’s face. You’d been so angry with him last time you saw him, but now your anger had melted away and you missed him. In hind sight, you could see how his stupid brain thought he was protecting you. It wasn’t his fault the government was keeping you a prisoner… But not.

You wander into the training gym and relish in the feeling of your powers. When you weren’t training, it was like you couldn’t feel your immense power flowing through you, so it was a relief to be able to fully feel again.

Emma gives you a small wave, breaking the law of socialising and you give her a small smile. After a month at this ‘summer camp’ you’d gotten to know the others surprising well for secret conversations during training. Emma’s powers mesmerised you every time. Not only was she able to turn her skin in diamonds, making it impervious to bullets, but she was a telepath; it was extremely easy to talk in the training gym when you could hear her in your head and she could hear your thoughts. Although, it did still startle you when her voice popped into your thoughts.

The other 4 kids all had different power sets. 

Laura was the youngest out of the group, and probably needed the most help to learn control. You always dreaded having to train against her. She healed quickly, her skeleton was covered in the strongest metal on Earth and she had retractable, long claws; two from each hand and one from each foot. In the early days of being here and training against the other kids, you’d burnt her with your fire and it had set her off. She went into full beast mode and almost took your head off, literally. She didn’t talk much, and as much as she scared you, you liked her.

Scott had confused you at first. He constantly wore red lensed glasses, and it wasn’t until you saw him in training that you understood why. He had laser eyes that could cut through pretty much anything; except Laura’s claws. Most days he was trying out different goggles that the agents in the facility provided him with; testing to see which ones helped with accuracy and intensity.

Clarice, who preferred to be called Blink, had a power that still baffled your mind. She could open portals anywhere she could see. She bested you in training every time. No matter how many fire balls or water streams or rocks you threw at her, she’d just calmly open a portal; one in your power’s path and one right back at you. Fighting her just resulted in you beating yourself up with your own powers. She had arrived here just after James, and you were convinced the two of them were somehow maintaining a relationship.

James, who preferred Warpath, was the first kid to be drafted into the facility. It seemed like the longer these kids were here, the more they preferred to be called nicknames. James’ power set was a lot like Steve Rogers’ or Bucky Barnes’; he was super strong, fast and since being in the facility, he’d been improving his weaponry. 

You look around the training gym and see that James was the only one that wasn’t already paired up and sparring. You mosey on over, a polite smile on your face, you give him a small smile as the two of you get ready to spar.

The two of you spar, only really half trying to hurt the other. You were both too interested in getting some human interaction that wasn’t an agent ordering you around.

“How’s Blink?” you ask with a smirk as you dodge a punch from James. He rolls his eyes at you and throws another punch. You stop it mid air with your wind and he struggles to fight against the gust of wind that was holding his hand in place,

“Everyone’s decided on names,” he changes the subject, panting ever so slightly when you let his fist go, “Scott is Cyclops. Laura is X-23… Don’t ask, she insisted and wouldn’t tell us why,” he shakes his head as you frown at him, “And Emma is White Queen,”

“Okay,” you drawl out as the two of you half-assedly fight, “What am I?”

“Korra,” he says proudly, smirking at you, “Like the Legend of Korra… Get it? Because you’re an elemental,”

You suddenly stop, the memory of Peter calling you Aang playing out in your head. Your distraction had given James an advantage and he lands a knee to your gut.

“Ahh,” you groan out, clutching at your stomach, “Not cool, James,”

“It’s Warpath,” he reminds you.

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, you didn’t think there was a need for everyone to have a codename, but you had to admit it made you feel like a legit hero.

“How and why did everyone get names?” you ask, resuming fighting,

“Emma communicated with everyone, and we all agreed on names,” James shrugs, “And because, what if we go into battle and need badass codenames to keep our true identities a secret?”

“We are not going into battle,” you scoff,

“Then why are we training against each other, learning combat and weaponry?”

Next Part

Tags: @leahhavoc, @rosyfluffyprincess, @addictwithafandomblog, @klutzly, @redstarstan, @heismyhunter, @coffeeismylife28, @goldenlifevsgutter1996, @aboveaverage-fangirl, @invisible2niall, @hantu369mc, @impala-moose, @plumsforbuck2016, @buckyandsebsinbin, @meep-meep22, @caitsymichelle13, @pleasefixthepain, @spn-worm, @buckyobsessed, @specs15, @sebstanwassup, @wunnywho, @thedarknesswarrior, @girlwith100names, @potterjamesharry, @earthtomarvel, @multifandom-slytherin, @princeofsassgard, @dxnaii-rxse, @thiscuriouslymiss

[feyre-archerons-scrapbook]

Endless Autumn - Lucien x sweetheart chapter 4

Part 3 of my interpretation of the story of Lucien and his doomed sweetheart.

We know Lucien first and foremost as Tamlin’s closest friend, and emmisary to the Spring Court. We know that he had a lover who was taken from him, but we don’t know much else. This is my interpretation of Lucien’s life in the Autumn Court, surrounded by his brothers and High Lord father, and the female who set his heart ablaze.

Previous chapters:

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3

Find me on AO3

I haven’t got my hands on ACOWAR yet, so this story is not influenced by any new knowledge about Lucien, the Autumn Court, or his lost love. Once again thanks to @rhysand-vs-tamlin for being my beta reader.

Being with Thea was my everything, my soul made whole. Her cool breath on my warm skin a balm, my fingertips dancing along the curves of her body mesmerising. Without her I was nothing. With her, loving her, I had finally found my purpose in this long, long life.

I awoke quite early, to the sound of birds signing sweet melodies in the trees outside the windows, the autumn sunshine streaming in, warming the room. I held her in my arms - the heat of her body against mine - and sighed.

That sunlight glistened on her bare shoulder, almost sparkling as it awakened the pearlescent greens, blues and purples running under her skin. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I buried a hand behind my head, my eyes flitting from one detail of the room to the next, but always returning to the crumpled sheets on which we lay.

I could still hear her, feel her, taste her on my tongue. Last night was possibly the first time I’d really, truly made love to a female. I’d meant every word I’d whispered in her ear, every caress my own small way of treasuring her, and I would look forward to those feelings again and again.  

I released another sigh – a sigh of contentment, of love – and watched her as she slept peacefully.

The room was large, the furniture simple, yet comfortable; an overstuffed leather chair, a wall filled with shelves that overflowed with books. Warm earth tones and weathered oak panels on the walls gave it the feel of a space to be found in the castle, rather than an inconspicuous cabin in the forest.

But then I paused. This was a home. This cabin crafted with care, filled with love, each trinket and knick-knack an object that was wanted, needed…not simply a possession. Home. I would be happy if this was where I would live out the rest of my days.

A stone fireplace took pride of place in the centre of the room, magically kept topped up with logs that crackled and popped quietly in the background. I chuckled to myself. The firekeeper doesn’t tend to his own fires. How poetic.  

As I drew lazy circles on Thea’s back, I found myself gazing into that fire, that gaping mouth of red hot flame. My eyes danced as the flames shifted and shimmied to the gentle breeze coming down the chimney.

Thea shifted and stretched, her arm over me and her fingertips tickling my bare chest. She looked up at me through her messy hair, those eyes flashing with want, desire.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello.” She wiggled her eyebrows and gave me a feline smile.

“What?” I asked, trying to hold in my laughter.

She began to trail her fingertips down, over my stomach and towards the sheets that covered my hips.

“You’re quite demanding, then?” I smirked, sucking in air as she moved lower.

“Mmhm,” she purred with a nod of her head. Her hand continued south until it found what it was after.

“Thea!” I gasped. She kept her eyes locked on me, her grin almost vicious. “Come here,” I growled, and rolled her over onto her back, pinning her body with my own, claiming her all over again. She screeched with pleasure as my mouth roamed, and the world outside melted away.

When we finally climbed out of bed and dressed, we ate breakfast and then I beckoned her into my lap. We must’ve been at that table for another hour, sharing kisses and giggling like adolescents.

“What are your plans for the day, my darling?” she asked as she looked down on me, her fingertips gently stroking my cheeks.

I squeezed her in my arms and smiled, “I’m going to spend the rest of the day counting down the seconds until I see you again.”

She grinned and kissed me again. “Lovesick fool.”

“Takes one to know one,” I winked, before kissing her. We sat there for so long, absorbed in each other before a thought occurred to me. “Thea?”

“Yes?” she purred, and nibbled my ear lobe.

“Should you be in the castle now, working?”

“What does it matter?” she whispered into my ear, and kissed me just below it.

It took all of my willpower to not carry her back to bed that second. “Won’t Gagnon be angry?”

A kiss on my jawline. “It’ll be fine, Lucien.” Another on my cheek. “We got up just as the sun rose. I have time.”

I began to sway slightly; her ability to make me go weak with desire was truly extraordinary.

“I…I just don’t want you to get into any trouble, my love,” I sighed, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Don’t worry about it.” She shifted until she was straddling me on the chair, and covered my mouth with hers. Completely and utterly powerless, that’s what I was. That’s what she made me, and I couldn’t have been happier.

“Oh Thea,” I sighed, “You’re wonderful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she winked, unbuttoning the top of my tunic.

“Marry me?”

She sat up straight. “What?” Her eyes were wide. Shock. Happiness. I wasn’t sure.

I took her hands in mine, my gaze holding hers as I spoke, “Thea, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“But…what about your family, your life?”

“I don’t care.” I shook my head. “I would give it all up for you. love you.”

“I love you too, Lucien.”

I kissed her hands and smiled, “Then marry me.”

“Y…yes,” she spluttered, tears now slipping down her cheeks.

“Yes?” I repeated, almost in disbelief.

“Yes!”

At that word, that incredible feeling, my willpower disappeared and I carried her back to bed, where I made love to her again and again until there was no way of putting off the day any longer.

With her father away, I spent the next few nights at the cottage with Thea. We barely slept, spending all of our waking hours making love, talking about our future together, or eating to regain our strength. Seeing her smile, hearing her laugh. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

On the third morning of waking up there, we parted ways outside the cottage with a sweet, soft kiss, before Thea headed to the east wing of the castle to begin her rounds. I watched her walk away until she disappeared through the trees, then set off towards the western edge of the castle. I could’ve winnowed back to my rooms, but I decided to walk through the forest instead.

As I walked, I seemed to notice everything around me all over again, as if Thea had awakened every one of my senses. Having lived in the court of endless autumn since birth, I knew that each tree grew vibrant red leaves, which would crinkle and turn infinite shades of brown and gold in a matter of days. These would then fall, and create a carpet of colour on the forest floor. The cycle would then begin again and again, over and over for all eternity.

I knew all of that. But this morning I was enthralled by it; by each leaf, each softly crunching step I took through the dense labyrinth of trees. For the first time in my life I felt glad to be here, glad to call this part of the world my home. Where my beautiful Thea called home. Where we would marry, and live out the rest of our long lives in happiness.

I was so caught up in my thoughts, my dreams of the life I was beginning with her, that I didn’t hear the rumbling hooves that approached from behind, didn’t notice them until six towering horses circled me and came to a stop.

“And where the hell have you been?” Terrell spat, yanking on the reins of his grey stallion.

“Cauldron save me,” I muttered under my breath, and glanced at each of the tall, red-headed males surrounding me. I gave an exaggerated bow. “Good morning, brothers. Fine weather for a stroll.”

“Answer the question, runt,” Aristide snapped. His horse whinnied, as if backing him up.

I held out my hands, “I just did. I came out to take in the fresh air.”

“You weren’t in your bedroom last night,” Magnus said bluntly, looking down his nose at me. “Or the night before that, or the night before that.”

I frowned. “In need of some midnight advice from your little brother, were you?”

“You weren’t there this morning either.”

“Spying on me?” I arched an eyebrow.

Magnus shrugged. “Stupidly, Drago thought we should drag you out on a hunt with us, so I went to your room to find - lo and behold - no Lucien.”

“I didn’t realise I was under house arrest, now.” I sneered at him.

“And where were you last night, hmm?” Drago frowned, ordering his brown horse forward a few steps. “You showed your face at father’s banquet for all of five minutes.”

“Oh damn,” I said, sarcasm dripping from every word, “And I bet nobody missed me.” I stared him down for a moment before shifting my focus to my eldest brother. Eris wasn’t looking at me, but rather at the path I had taken through the trees. His eyes were narrowed, his jet black horse stepping from side to side.

“Problem, Eris?” I scowled.

His eyes slid down to me, beholding me like I was a foul bog creature. “You’ve got a secret, Lucien.” I began to speak. “Don’t even bother denying it. I’ve noticed, father has noticed. Even mother.” He scoffed as my nostrils flared slightly. “Who am I kidding? She probably knows what it is, doesn’t she? Can’t keep a secret from her, can you?”

“Watch your tongue.”

His eyes flashed. “You’re not denying it then?”

“I haven’t got time for this,” I said, bored, and picked at a piece of lint on my deep purple tunic. Satisfied I’d entertained them for long enough, I headed towards a gap between Corentin and Drago’s horses. They immediately closed ranks.

“Where are you going now, baby brother?” Corentin smirked.

I took a step back. “I don’t have to answer to you. Get out of my way.”

“Gagnon has been looking for you, too,” Eris continued, unperturbed. “Seems quite concerned about you, as a matter of fact.”

“Is that so?” I said, “How nice of him, always looking out for me.”

“Indeed.” Eris raised an eyebrow towards Aristide who chuckled. “He reckons you’ve got yourself a new lover.”

“Oh?” My nerves tingled, making my fingers twitch. “And does he have any proof?”

Eris glared at me. “Perhaps.”

I planted my feet wide, steadying myself as my brothers all took a step closer. “This is ridiculous. You trust that weasel? Do you not realise that he is spying on all of you, as well as me?”

Terrell and Magnus glanced at each other for a moment.

“Imagine all the bullshit he’s whispering to father about each and every one of us.”

Eris laughed, the sound echoed around the trees. “Nice try, but none of us are the family disappointment.”

“You sure about that?”

“Are you calling the heir to this court a disappointment?” Aristide sniped, unsheathing a vicious-looking dagger from his belt.

“I think he is, y’know,” Drago chipped in.

“Who is she, Lucien?” Eris said, staring at me and ignoring the others. “Tell me.”

I gritted my teeth. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“You’ll only make things worse if you make us find out the hard way.”

My hands curled into fists by my sides. I could’ve sworn they heated up, faint plumes of smoke rising from them. I prayed to the Mother that no one noticed.

Aristide took a step forward on his tan horse. “Answer the question, Lucie.”

My focus snapped to him. “What the hell does any of this matter? Hmm? Why do you all care so much what the runt of this damned litter does?”

“Ooh, touched a nerve,” Terrell hissed, goading me, goading the others. “He’s protesting too much, just like at the dinner with Tamlin. Aren’t you Lucie?”

“Seems like it,” Eris said, narrowing his eyes at me even more. All of my brothers seemed to be having fun in this circle, but not him. His demeanour was ice cold. “Father cannot have the bloodline sullied, Lucien.”

The circle was suddenly a foot closer. “What are you getting at, Eris?”

He shrugged, and tightened the reins in his gloved hands. “If this female is just another distraction for you, maybe that will be fine.”

I dropped my head, my eyes peering up at him from under my brow. My voice came out deeper, more powerful than I expected. “And what if she was more than that?”

“Ah,” Corentin gasped, breaking out in a smile. “So there is someone.”

“If you have debased yourself and,” Eris scoffed, “Fallen for some low-life faerie - as dear old Gagnon suspects - father will be most upset.”

I stepped closer to his black horse, close enough to feel it’s hot breath on my skin. “Don’t you dare say a word.” My flesh rippled with anger, with heat.

Eris raised an eyebrow, “Do you honestly think I would listen to a whore like you, little brother? You may be worthless to this court, to this family, but father still gives a damn what you do with the reputation he has forged over the centuries.”

“What I do makes no difference to him, or to any of you bastards.” I could almost feel my blood boiling.

“Temper, temper, Lucie,” Drago tutted.

The others laughed – all except Eris. He stared down at me with pure, calculated hatred. I returned the feeling. “You always were the most stubborn one of us, Lucien. And now it’s coming back to bite you on the ass. Tell us who she is.”

I didn’t move an inch. “Never.”

“Then you will both die.”

The six horses went to close the gap on me, to allow my brothers to grab me. Each had a face contorted into a vicious sneer, filled with rage and jealousy.

I threw my hands out to protest, palms facing the ground, and I… I erupted.

White hot flames shot from my fingertips and landed on the dry, flammable leaves on the ground, blistering to life with the full strength of the Autumn Court. The High Lord’s power. My father’s power. I screamed out in shock, in anger, blinking just at the moment that I seemed to draw a circle of flame around me, a solid, impenetrable wall of fire. I looked at my hands, burning with unwavering flame; red hot heat on my face, but manageable, malleable to my needs. The flames coursed through my veins, heating my body, offering a plentiful supply if I needed it. I lifted my head to my brothers, their faces barely visible above the eight-foot-high flames. Their horses nickered, rearing back onto their hind legs, the whites of their eyes visible, the red and yellow and orange of the flames reflecting in them.

My brothers looked as if they’d just seen the Mother herself. Eris looked dumbfounded. He ordered his horse forward again, but my eyes caught his, and as his black stallion stepped a few feet further back, I found myself shouting, “Don’t come any closer, brother! Don’t touch her, don’t touch me.”

“Where the hell did you get that?” he shouted over the crackling flames that encircled me, protected me. “That power is meant for me!?”

I shrugged. “Leave us alone, Eris,” I warned, “Or I will kill you.”

He shook his head in disbelief and looked over to his right. I followed the path his focus took to see another male on horseback in the distance. An impossibly tall, powerful man, his face not much older-looking than mine, his horse possibly the largest I’d ever seen. My father. “It doesn’t matter any more, little brother!” Eris shouted back to me, his mouth twisted into a wicked smile, “You’ve just sealed your own fate.”

[numberonesongdreamer-blog]

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