#she did open the door for him to turn into a beast in terms of strength

[mydemimonde]

'Cherry Bomb' | Michael Gavey x Reader (Part 1)

a/n: this will have two parts, most likely! english is not my first language and i have no idea how oxford university works lol i just googled some things, also i suck at maths so any explanation here is just me googling shit. no beta reader. hope you enjoy!

Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache, the worst hangover you ever had. You don't even remember how you managed to get to your dorm, until you see a small note on your bedside table, signed by... Michael Gavey.

Words: 4490

Warnings: +18 (minors do not interact!), female reader, no use of y/n, not specific physical description, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, fingering, loss of virginity, masturbation (and more to come in the second part)

You wake up on a Saturday morning with a pounding headache, your mascara all smudged under your eyes. The sunlight coming from the blinds makes you squint your eyes. You bring a hand to your forehead, sighing. This was the worst hangover you had in a while.

The sound of the door opening and a sudden gasp make you groan and close your eyes shut.

“Oh, here you are!” a particularly high-pitched voice says, making your headache even worse.

“Fuck, Leigh” your voice comes out as croaky and hoarse. “Lower your voice” you ask as she mutters a ‘sorry’ and closes the door carefully. You manage to sit, your back resting against the headboard as Leigh approaches you.

“Next time, be sure to drink water as well. Too many tequilas and shots do this to you” it’s like she’s scolding you, which is fair because she’s two years older than you, she’s like your sister sometimes.

You rub your eyes, smearing more mascara and making you look like a raccoon. On the corner of your eye you notice a glass full of water and some aspirins. You frown.

“How did you get that so fast?” It’s Leigh’s turn to look at you completely puzzled. You point to the glass next to you.

“Uhm, it wasn’t me” she chuckles as you take some aspirins in your hand and drown them with water. Your brows lift in surprise and confusion, your eyes glancing towards a small note next to your lamp. You grab it and read the message in a rushed handwriting.

“What the fuck was Michael Gavey doing in my dorm?” you nearly scream with wide eyes as Leigh takes the note from your hands to read it. She throws her head back and cackles.

“Michael Gavey brought you here last night. You don’t remember?” she looks at your dumbfounded expression trying not to laugh again. “Jeez, you were so drunk you don’t even remember what happened…” she mutters and sits cross-legged in front of you. “Last night at the pub, we were chatting with Felix and his group and you wanted to go to the loo, so you left but on your way you bumped into Bradley and Sam” she wiggles her brows and you scoff.

You dated Bradley during half the second term, then you dated his friend Sam for a brief period of two weeks. You found them too boring, so you rejected any other advance on their part ever since.

“Anyways, I couldn’t see much but I think something nasty happened, because on the other side of the pub was Michael fucking Gavey looking at you. Babe, he was fuming” her lips curve into a devilish smile. “He strode towards you and grabbed your arm, telling them to fuck off. Which they surprisingly did, which is odd because, well… you know… he’s a scrawny awkward nerd and Bradley and Sam are pretty much tall like beasts” she shakes her head while you’re still confused, trying so hard to remember what happened. 

“Why the hell would he even approach me? He hates me” your brows lift and she places a manicured hand on your knee.

“Hmm, maybe they were annoying you. It seems Michael’s your knight in shining armour. I think it was hot, wet my panties a little bit not gonna lie” she sighs and fans her face with her hand, pretending to melt.

Now it is your turn to cackle. “You’ve always said you pictured him like one of those guys who compulsively jerks off to hentai every night in the dark of his room.” You look at her with a knowing look, pouting your lips.

Leigh shrugs. “Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I like nerds like Michael Gavey now. He looked really good with that shirt” she narrows her eyes and twirls her hair, making you laugh again. She grins and looks at you. “You should talk to him. Ask him what happened, and then you might want to thank him…” she wiggles her eyebrows and you roll your eyes, she slaps your shoulder in response. “You know you want to! I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes, and a guy like him will never resist a bomb like you. Who knows, maybe he’s jerking off to the thought of you…”

“Leigh!” you slap her leg and she jumps. You shake your head. “Babe, she hates me. I know it. I’m pretty sure he’s part of that group of guys that slut-shames me in the hallways” Leigh presses her lips, knowing you might be right. Might.

Still, you want to know what really happened last night, so you sigh and get out of bed, Leigh following your movements in the dimly lit dorm. “I’ll take a shower and think about how to talk to him, ask him what happened” your friend gets on her stomach on your bed, her feet up and her chin resting on her palm as you grab your towel, feeling the headache go away, but your empty stomach grumbled.

“Mind if I take a nap here? Kev fucked my brains out last night and I don’t feel like going to my dorm” she sounded quite tired, and you hum in response. She groans as she gets into the covers and you enter the small bathroom, closing the door slowly and undressing to get into the warm shower, letting the water fall all over your body. You close your eyes enjoying the feeling, and you start wondering how to talk to Michael.

You never saw him anywhere else rather than in the great hall of college, as he spent most of the time in the library. Besides, you know deep in your gut he hates you. Every time you walk into the library, he leaves, avoiding looking at you.

One time, you tried to talk to him. It was the beginning of the academic year, you were dating a history student named David, and you saw Michael all alone during lunch, too focused on his books and his crunchies. Feeling bad for him, you grabbed your purse and walked towards him, a smile across your face.

“Hi there” you introduce yourself, extending your hand. He looks up from his book, looking at you with a frown, sneering. He looks at your hand and then back at you. Awkwardly, you move that hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pressing your lips. “What’s your name?”

“Michael Gavey” he says sharply, clearly annoyed. You stand there, feeling heat creeping on your cheeks as he turns his attention to his book. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out so you leave, returning to your friends.

That was the first and last time you tried to talk to him, but he refused. You didn’t know why, but you assumed it was because of your reputation there. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your sexuality, and it’s definitely not your fault that most of the guys are horny douchebags who aren’t capable of being in a serious relationship. Plus, they’re too shallow for you, and you get bored easily. You don’t want them to get too attached.

But Michael’s different. He avoids interacting with people when he can, he doesn’t do parties -maybe you saw him once or twice at Felix’s-, he’s very vocal about what he thinks about popular people: he hates them. Vapid cunts, you heard him mutter once. And that’s why you feel attracted to him.

He’s nothing like Bradley, Sam or David. Or Luke. Or Peter. Or even Felix.

You finish showering and drying off your hair, Leigh sleeping soundly on your bed. You are careful not to make any loud noise as you try to dress. You put on a lace tank top and a pair of jeans, your favourite flats and the note he left on your bedside table and head out to the library, hoping to find him.

Bingo. You see Michael sitting on the other side of the library, fully immersed in his studies. Your flats make the slightest of noises against the floor, you feel your heartbeat get faster as you approach him. You pull the chair in front of him and take a seat, leaning over as you smile and say hi. Michael looks up and nearly chokes at the sight of your tits nearly spilling from your top.

“H-hi” he simply responds in a low voice. He clears his throat and frowns. “Why are you here?”

Ouch. Rude. “I was looking for you.”

“You were?” Silly old me?

“Yes, dummy. I woke up with the worst hangover of my life, and I found this on my bedside table.” You hand him the small note he left. Drink these with water. Hope you feel better. Michael Gavey. He presses his lips and nods, acknowledging the note he wrote.

“You were pretty hammered” he chuckles and you smile, showing your perfect teeth.

“I was. I can’t remember a thing, Michael. Would you help me to fill in the blanks?” you ask sweetly and bat your lashes at him, making him squirm. Michael Gavey squirms.

“Sure, uhm…” he puts the book aside, scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat once again. “You were heading towards the toilet at the pub and I heard you laugh when you bumped into those assholes” he sneers, remembering the events from last night. “The blonde one landed a hand on your ass and you tried to pull him away. You were clearly uncomfortable so just told them to fuck off” he shrugs.

Your heart flutters, he sounds so honest and worried about you. You extend your hand to place it on top of his, and he meets your eyes. “Thank you.”

He nods, looking at your hands. He slithers them away, making you frown. “No worries. Next time though, try not to throw up on my sneakers” your eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment.

“Oh fuck, did I do that?” He nods trying to hide a smirk. You cover your face with your hands, mortified. “Shit, I’m so sorry!” You move your hands away from your flushed face when you hear him chuckle.

“You had too many drinks, you could barely stand on your feet” he reassures you, his sudden kindness taking you by surprise. “I left you in your dorm and just when I was about to leave, you said you felt like throwing up, but you didn’t make it to the toilet and threw up on my sneakers. I washed the stain off the floor and helped you get off your shoes to lie down. I see you took the aspirins I left there.”

“I did, thank you again.” You don’t know how to thank him properly, so you start thinking. You take a moment to study his features. The glasses he wears frame his face and hide his blue eyes. His aquiline nose —oh God, his aquiline nose—, the pronounced cupid bow of his lips, his sharp jaw. You feel the need to run your fingers through his tousled blonde hair. You press your legs together. “How can I thank you?”

“No, it’s ok. No worries” he makes a gesture with his hands and sighs. “Uhm, I really need to study, so…” he trails off, subtly telling you to leave. You blink and nod, standing up.

“Sure, ok, I’ll leave you to it…” you accommodate the chair back and wave at him. “See you around?” He just nods and opens his book again. As you leave, a great idea crosses your mind, but before you open your mouth a pack of students enter the library. You curse internally and leave.

9:15 AM.

You fix your hair in the mirror, brushing it before going to the calculus lecture. You’re not studying anything related to maths actually, you’re a psychology student and according to the university program you can take a course to complement your studies, so you chose that one.

As you walk down the corridors, you see Michael carrying his notebook and entering the classroom. Your lips curve into a smile and speed up the pace to catch up.

“Michael!” You call him as you finally reach him. You swear you hear him mutter something under his breath, and you follow him as more students fill the room. He smiles at you with pressed lips, greeting you back.

“I didn’t know you were taking calculus” he sounds genuinely surprised. You decide to take a seat next to him, placing your bag on the floor as he opens his notebook and clicks his pen, everything ready to take notes.

“Yeah, I have to take an optional course to complement my studies” you lean down, giving him a clear view of your cleavage as you reach for your notebook and pencil case. You hear him gulp.

“How… dedicated” he replies, to which you smile, taking the end of your pencil in between your teeth.

Michael looks away, his eyes focusing on the board as the professor greets everyone and starts writing.

Half an hour later the lecture comes to an end. You sigh in relief, your brain has melted from all the numbers and formulas the professor explained. Honestly, you paid more attention to Michael’s large hands and long fingers gripping his pen as he took notes, thinking about how they would feel on your body.

You watch as he stands up quickly, nodding at you as a way to say goodbye. “See ya”

“Michael, wait!” You quickly put your notebook into your bag and rush after him. “Shall we study together? We can do the assignment due by next week together” you offer him your signature smile, tilting your head and thinking he wouldn’t say no. Most guys melted when you smiled at them like that.

However, your confidence vanishes when he grimaces and scratches his neck. “Actually, I… I don’t study in groups. Doesn’t work for me”.

Why are you surprised, it is obvious. You always see him alone in the libraries. You curse yourself internally. “Oh, well…”

“I’m sure you will do great though, you seem like a clever girl” the praise coming from his lips make you silently gasp.

“Yeah, you’re right…” Just as he’s about to leave, an idea pops in your head. “Actually, Michael… I’m struggling with this subject.”

Lies. You aren’t a genius like he is, but you can manage. You don’t like maths but you don’t suck at it either, you do good. Enough to pass the subject.

“I was wondering if you could help me” you do your best to sound helpless, knitting your brows and all. “Everyone says you’re a fucking genius, please, Mike?” He swallows hard at the way you practically beg him for help, placing a hand on his elbow.

He doubts only for a few seconds before agreeing. “Ok. I will help you” he yelps as you wrap your arms around him, your tits flash against his chest making him dizzy.

“Oh, thank you Michael!” you pull back, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you smile. “Can we start today? I would tell you to come to my dorm, but my friend Leigh is currently staying there because they found a rat clogging her toilet.” Another big lie.

Michael just nods, he doesn’t really have too many options. “Fine. Uhm, my dorm is on the second floor, 219. I’ll be there at 4pm, bring your notes and a calculator.”

You playfully salute him, like a good soldier. “Yes, Sir” he chuckles softly and shakes his head, turning on his heels to leave.

You can barely contain your joy as you walk towards your dorm, almost singing.

3:40 PM.

You try on different outfits, grunting when you look at yourself in the mirror for the fifth time. You don’t like any fit, and you continue rummaging through the pile of clothes on your bed. You lift your brow as a red fabric catches your attention. It’s the mini skirt Leigh gave you a few weeks ago. You quickly put it on and look at yourself in the mirror once again, happy with the result. Your white baby tee with ‘cherry bomb’ in red letters written on it makes the perfect match.

You grab your notebook and head towards his dorm.

“Coming” you hear Michael’s voice behind the door. He will surely be coming today. He opens the door, breath hitching at the sight of you in that top, your nipples peeking through the fabric. Suddenly he feels his pants are too tight. “Please, come in” he gives you enough space to enter his dorm, which you do. As you walk past him the smell of your perfume fills his nostrils. Fuck.

You smile at him and as he closes the door behind you, you look around the room. It was just what you expected. Everything was perfectly neat, books organised in two bookshelves, more textbooks and notes scattered over the white desk.

“Take a seat over there” he points at the bed, and you gladly do it. “Do you want something to drink? Eat? I have some crunchies.”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.” You flash him a sweet smile as you open your bag, looking for your notes and your pen.

Michael sits next to you, keeping a safe distance of course, but close enough you can hear his hard breathing. “Ok, we can start with the basics, and then I’ll help you with the exercises, sounds good?” When you nod, he continues. “Cool. So, think of limits as a way to understand what happens to a function as it gets closer and closer to a certain point without actually reaching it.”

“That sounds paradoxical” you cut him off, and he suppresses a smile.

“It does seem counterintuitive, but it's about observing the behaviour of a function as it gets infinitely close to a specific value.” He continues explaining, and you pay attention to every word that comes out from those beautiful lips.

Michael’s brows lift in surprise as you finish another task quickly, and he’s even more surprised when he checks it and there are no mistakes. He didn’t find any mistakes in the previous 5 exercises he provided for you either. You just look up at him, waiting for his correction.

He looks back at you. “You did perfectly well. Again.” You squeak and he takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t get it. Most students get the first ten exercises horribly wrong, but you solved all of them perfectly. H-how?”

You lean back on your arms, legs crossed. You tilt your head. “Maybe I’m just a quick study, learning from the best” you start moving your feet up his leg, slowly and carefully. He shakes his head as he puts on his glasses again, sighing.

“No. You’re just wasting my time.”

“What?” It’s actually the truth. You are wasting his time, you weren’t having any issues with the subject, you just wanted an excuse. “Ok, yes, I admit it” you lift your hands in defeat, and he curses.

“Why the fuck would you ask for my help if you don’t need it? Fuck, I have many important things to do and you’re here bothering me, leave please.”

You get on your feet quickly as he’s about to turn the doorknob, and you stop him. “No, Michael, please hear me out.” He glares at you, nostrils flaring as you take his wrist and guide him towards his bed, making him sit on the edge. He looks confused, you sit next to him, your knees touching.

“Look, I just wanted to thank you for what you did the other day. For being my knight in shining armour.” He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by placing your index finger there. “No, listen. I know it’s not a big deal for you, but it is for me. Michael, I want you.”

Michael’s eyes widen at your confession. “W-what?”

There’s no way you wanted him. You, out of all the people on the campus. Slowly, you lean in, wetting your lips with your tongue to press them against his mouth. You give him a soft peck before truly kissing him, your hands finding their way towards his tense shoulders. He doesn’t respond yet, but when you bite gently on his lower lip he whimpers, he fucking whimpers, and moves his lips against yours, trying to follow your rhythm. Your lips taste like cherries, and he loves it.

Kissing him feels good. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, feeling how he squirmed under your touch and kisses. You wonder how he would react when you have his cock in your mouth.

You slither your tongue inside his mouth, exploring it as he gets more excited, his hands finally touching you, placed on either side of your waist.

You pull back to catch your breath and he chases your lips. You giggle. “Easy there, lover boy. We have plenty of time.”

“Fuck, I- I… I’ve never done this” you frown, and he sighs. “I’ve never kissed anyone. Ever. That felt really good” he chuckles, and you smile.

“You liked it?” He just nods, and you start placing open mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his neck until you reach his ear and whisper. “Wait until I put my mouth on your cock.”

Michael gulps. “W-what?”

“You think I came here just because I wanted to kiss you? No, Michael” his eyes follow your movements, how you rise from his bed to kneel in front of him, hands undoing his jeans, looking for any sign of discomfort. When you find none, you continue, pulling down his jeans and boxers down to his knees, freeing his cock. “I came here because I really, really want this” you purr and lower your gaze to his weeping length, your cunt clenching around nothing already.

Michael’s big. At least, bigger than the ones you had. Curved upward with a protruding vein on the side. You bite your lip as you start stroking him, Michael closes his eyes shut and whimpers. You never heard someone whimper so beautifully. You study every reaction, every microexpression as you continue stroking him at a tantalising pace, as if you are torturing him.

“P-please…” he begs through bated breath, moving his hips as he tries to get some friction, anything.

“You look so beautiful begging, Michael. You’re making me so wet, baby” he cries out your name again, and you smirk. “Michael, open your eyes” you demand, and he does so, breath catching in his throat as he finds you there on your knees, looking at him like you were his predator. It was so fucking sexy.

“I want you to watch as I suck your cock. And you better last more than five minutes. I want you to enjoy it” he nods and swallows hard as you lick your lips before taking him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck” he curses, gripping the sheets beneath him until his knuckles are white. You lick the vein, going from the base upwards, and you hear him sigh. You lick him like you lick a lollipop, and then you take him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks as your right hand works its way around the base. He’s so big he doesn’t fit completely into your mouth.

You hum around his cock, your eyes closing as you bob your head up and down his shaft, making Michael squirm. He doesn’t know what to do, he just keeps looking at you, unable to tear his gaze from you.

The soft moans that escape his lips, the way he whimpers your name and bucks his hips ever so slightly, careful not to hurt you but eager to get more are enough to make you wet. Hell, you are sure your panties are soaked by now, leaking through the fabric.

His eyes widen as he catches the movement of your left hand that was on his inner thigh going in between your legs, under the skirt. Were you touching yourself?

You bob your head faster and moan around his cock as you tease your wet folds with your fingers. You push two fingers inside your pussy, the room filling with the most obscene sounds you ever heard.

“Are you… are you touching y-yourself?” asks Michael in a strangled moan, watching you intently. You release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, your saliva coating it.

“Of course I am, Michael. I’m fucking wet. Here” you take off your fingers from your pussy to grab his hand, and guide it towards your entrance.

Michael almost passes out. You are, in fact, dripping wet on his fingers. You let him touch you for a moment, grinding your hips against his hand, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit so deliciously. “S-shit, Michael” you bite your lip and he grins, happy to earn that reaction from you. You feel him twitch in your hand, the tell tale sign that he was very close to cumming. You remove your hands from your cunt and he frowns.

“Did-did I hurt you?”

“No, baby. But tonight’s about you, ok? I can teach you how to eat my pussy later, yeah? Right now, I want you to cum in my mouth. Whenever you’re ready” you wink at him and he chokes on a sob as you take him into your mouth again, slowly until you feel him in the back of your throat. Some tears well up in your eyes, you moan around his cock and that pushes him.

He bucks his hips and shoots his load deep down your throat, you look at him through your lashes and see how hard he grips the sheets, his chest heaving as he moans your name. He stays still for a while, panting as you swallow his salty cum, wiping the corner of your mouth with your hand.

“Holy fuck” he mutters, still trying to catch his breath. You get on your feet and plant a kiss on his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Now… shall I… well, uhm” he’s unsure about what to ask.

“Eat my pussy?” you finish for him and he nods eagerly, you giggle. “Another day, baby.”

“But you… you were touching yourself and didn’t get to cum, right? I have to return the favour—”

“No, Michael. Don’t worry” you reassure him with a kind smile, stroking his cheek. You lean in to kiss him again, and then, you whisper in his ear: “I’ll just finger myself until I cum in my bedroom to the thought of you.”

You smirk as he looks at you with his jaw dropped. You blow him a kiss, open the door and leave.

let me know what you think! and if you'd like to be tagged as well 🫶🏻

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

You don’t get to tell me about sad

Next chapter

a/n: blame TTPD for this… idk why I keep doing this to myself.

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

warnings: past trauma, mean people, age gap but everyone is of age so calm down.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Azriel wasn’t sure who or what he was blaming for the situation that was unfolding. He could blame Rhys, who had put him on this duty. Could blame himself. He had been sloppy during his last assignment and nearly died in the middle of it. Meaning that he had to knock it down a tad. Just until he was fully recovered. And then he could raise his middle fingers at fate. Because she was laughing at him now. He should have just stayed put for a couple more months. Keep it to himself that he was itching to do something. Not sit there practically begging for an assignment. Well, now he dug his own grave, and he was forced to lay in it. 

Letting out a deep sigh, Azriel pushes back from the outside wall. Fluttering his wings a couple of times. A short-term thing, Rhys had said when he slipped the document onto the table. It had taken one glance for Azriel to feel the bitter taste in his mouth. But he hated saying no. Even if babysitting wasn’t on his list of duties.

"Ah, sir, it’s so lovely to see you. It is an honor to have the shadowsinger in our presence," an unfamiliar voice pulled him out of his thoughts, making Azriel’s head spin to the side. He had truly been just standing outside the villa for way too long. “Azriel will do just fine," he breathes out, turning to who he assumed was one of the servants. The sweet older man smiles, “I assume you are here to see the high lord." There’s no bitterness in his voice, and there's a true sense of pride there. “Unfortunately...", Azriel grunts, making the male practically gasp under his breath before he quickly pulls himself together. A fake version of the smile he had given Azriel, now neatly plastered on his face, “This way, please.”

Azriel doesn’t let his eyes wander as he walks through the halls. They were never familiar to him, and he doesn’t plan on changing that ever. So he strides along with the servant, wishing he could walk just a little faster. But by the sudden sharp turn, Azriel is quick to realize that no one is taking him to the belly of the beast. A side sunroom. That almost makes Azriel smile. He liked that he wasn’t trusted enough to be greeted in the main office. 

"Azriel," a voice that never failed to make Azriel frown, greets him as soon as the wooden door opens. "Eris," Azriel says, fixing his eyes on the male in front of him. A male who looked surprisingly awful. Eris loved looking good and not letting others see the real thing hiding behind the fox mask. "Sit," the new high lord gestured to the plush armchair, but Azriel shakes his head, “I rather not.” Eris lets out a sigh. “I’m sure you’ve seen the request," he says, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Bald of you to request anything truthfully," Azriel crosses his arms over his chest. A slight smile tugs at the fireling lips, “Maybe I like stooping low from time to time.” 

But Azriel refused to let on, “You hid her. You went behind the law." That was the first thing he had said to Rhys as well. But, of course, there were exceptions for the royal families even there. “I didn’t hide her," and here it was in that much firmer tone, one that always jumped out when one accused Eris of anything, “Beron did. Used her to control me. Too many souls know that she is a weak link”, “Surprised you didn’t just leave her by the border the way you did with Mor" Azriel cut in, letting that bubbling frustration ooze out. Even if he had promised himself he wouldn’t stoop so low, “She was also a weak link, wasn’t she?”, he jabbed, making Eris clench his fists. From the fire burning in his eyes, Azriel knew that the bite back would be as lethal as it probably would have been if not for the noise outside the room. The sound of feet and a figure practically falling through the door. 

"Eris," the voice was breathless, notes of laughter still on it. Tapping of the paws followed suit. As two hounds brushed past the folds of your skirt, rushing towards their true owner, "Eris, look..." your voice hitched as your eyes landed on Azriel. His face remained as cold as it was before, but he had to admit it. Azriel was waiting to see a scrawny girl. Not a young and mature female. Sharp autumn features. And those breathtaking green eyes...

“Oh, I...”, you quickly lowered your head, “I will come by later," but before you didn’t even turn, before Eris grunted, “No, come in, YN." You blinked a couple of times, clearly confused as to why you might be needed here. “What’s going on?", the question was practically a whisper as you wiped the dirt-covered hands on the skirt that looked nothing like the kind a princess should wear. 

“There will be changes happening," Eris said, placing his hands on the table, “You’ve been misbehaving." A light chuckle slipped past your lips. “What?" you breathed, shaking your head. “I do not have the patience nor time to run after you," the high lord said, waving his hand in the air. And that was all it took to make your shoulders droop. Your big eyes staring back at your brother, but Azriel sensed the shift in your energy. He saw the twitch in Eris’s hands, but he didn’t back down. “The spymaster will be taking you with him. You’re to behave accordingly,", “I will not go anywhere with that… tree of a man," you hissed, pointing to Azriel, who almost laughed at the insult. If one could even call it that. “What is this nonsense you’re weaving?”, you stepped forward, demanding an answer. 

“Mind your tone, young lady," Eris growled, pointing a warning finger at you. The room grew quiet. You could hear the flickering of the candles. A heartbeat. One, two, three. “I will stay in my room; I won’t go anywhere, I promise," you begged. Desperation. A nice weapon. But Azriel doubted that it would work on Eris. “You said that the last time and then proceeded to sneak out with Makoa."  Eris reached for the glass bottle, pulling a glass out. He had already settled on his decision, and he was showing you just that. “That was one time," you whispered, desperately trying to catch your brother’s eye. 

“Don’t lie to me," Eris chuckled. “I’m not," and you weren’t. Azriel felt it. He knew that Eris felt it too. “Pack what you need. You’re to leave as soon as possible. Further instructions will be given to you through the spymaster," and that was it. Dismissed. For a moment, Azriel thought that he would have to watch you cry. Beg maybe. “That’s all?”, you hissed through gritted teeth. “You want me to kiss it better?”, Eris asked. A breath hitched in your throat. Knuckles turning white from how hard you clenched your fists. You just spun on your heel. Candles dancing in your movement. A harsh slam of the door. 

Eris let out a shaky breath, but Azriel couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from his lips. “You are a different breed," the spymaster said, shaking his head. “It will be easier this way," Eris muttered, not taking his eyes from the door. “I beg to differ," Azriel pointed out, turning to leave as well. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, shadowsinger," the fireling bit back. Azriel turned to face him once more. “But you asked for my help," and he knew he had a winning card in his hands. “I’m not doing this because you asked. I'm doing this because she is innocent in all of this."  That was the last thing he said before he stepped out too. 

He had barely made it to the outside terrace when he saw you practically stomping toward the woods. “Mother, give me patience," he muttered under his breath before leaping into the sky. “Where are you going?", he called out. But you didn’t stop. Your steps didn’t falter as you pushed past another branch. “To your fucking court," you hissed, taking your anger out on the poor bushes as you stepped over them.

“Are you sure it’s that way?”, Azriel called out, landing just a couple of feet behind you. You halted, turning left. “Save us both the trouble and let me winnow us there," he said, reaching for your hand, but you turned so fast, pulling a shining dagger from your belt and aiming it at Azriel’s throat. “If you touch me, I will skin you," you grunted angrily. Azriel lifted his hand, pushing his fingers beneath the blade. “You would have to aim a bit higher, princess; you wouldn’t hit the vital artery." He watched the way your jaw practically grinned your teeth to the nerve. 

“Don’t worry, I can always aim for your balls," you snarled back, turning away. Azriel rubbed a hand over his face, letting you walk a few feet ahead. “So, the plan is to walk through Autumn, Winter, Dawn, and Day, and let’s not forget the under-the-mountain part," he pointed out. You stopped once more. Even with your back turned to him, Azriel could tell the way your chest was rising and falling rapidly. 

Turn around; he practically begged in his head; don’t make me regret this even more. But just as he had concluded before, this was Mother’s way of making him pay for everything bad that he had done. Because you stepped forward, inching deeper into the forest. Azriel shook his head. For a moment, he considered letting you walk away, but he took to the skies instead.

You weren’t even sure if you were mad. Were you sad? Annoyed? Confused? It was all fine. Just last week, you were both swimming in the lake. You and your brother. Laughing. He had even pulled out his carving knife. It was fine. Lucien was going to come back, too. Angry tears rolled off your cheeks as you push back another branch, ducking under it. At least that winged bruit had chosen to leave you by. But they all do. A bitter laugh slipped past your lips at the thought of it. A burden from birth—that’s what your father told you day in and day out. Maybe if he had finished what he had started that night...

That thought snaps the same way as the branch beneath you. Your feet twist, making you yell slightly as the pain shoots up your leg. But that’s the least of your concerns, as your weight makes you topple over, hand-breaking the fall as the edge of the dome looms closer. Maybe fate has decided to give you a helping hand. But before you can blink, a strong hand wraps around your middle, pulling you up. 

“So you actually can’t be left to your own devices," a deep voice mutters, and you are cursing Mother once more because she could have sent anyone else, but no, that winged male had to be the one. “No one asked for your interference," you grunt, trying to push out of his grip. “Your manners are shit for a princess," he says, and you can’t wait to put him in his place, but the moment you manage to wiggle out of his grip, putting all of your weight on your feet, shooting pain rips through you. You hiss, stumbling over. The spymaster grips your elbow, steadying you. 

“What hurts?”, his voice is solid, but there’s no anger in it. "Nothing," you say through gritted teeth, thankful for the sunset that had already draped the forest in shadows, letting you hide your splotchy face. “Nothing?”, he asks again, “So, if I were to let go?”, “I said nothing.”You pull your hand away, turning back. You can hide a limp. You’ve hidden worse. Right? But you don’t get to take a single step back. Your ankle betrays you as a pained cry slips past your gritted teeth. 

And in a heartbeat, he is there. His big palm once again splayed against your stomach as he steadied you against his chest. Your heartbeat jumps up, but you don’t even get to gasp when he turns you around, lowering you to the nearest fallen trunk. You watch him with a frown. But don’t dare to fight anymore. What’s the point anyway? 

He kneels, his hands moving towards the hem of your skirt. You expect him to just lift it, but his hands halt as he tilts his head up. You can see that he stutters slightly at the sight of your puffy eyes. “Can I?”, he asks. You grit your teeth, “Don’t you own me now? You can do what you want." He frowns. True confession there. “I don’t own you. I am here to protect you. A bodyguard if you will," he says, and even if you want to call him out for lying, something tells you that he is not. “I don’t need protection," you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Considering that you just nearly went flying over the edge," the spymaster gestures over his shoulder. You huff, lifting your left leg. Wincing from the movement alone. 

He reaches for it. His hands… Your heart skips a beat at the scars all over them. You can’t see much, considering that he’s wearing long-sleeved leather, but his whole hand... “You sprained it; it’s already puffing up." His voice makes you jump slightly as you nod along. He glances at you. “I’m afraid your journey through the five courts will have to be cut short, princess." He tries not to show it, but the bastard is practically oozing satisfaction. “Don’t call me that," you say, pulling your leg out of his grasp, cursing under your breath. “Princess?”, he asks almost smugly. “I still have two hands, you fuck," you grunt, trying to stand up, but the spymaster works quicker. His arms snake over your legs and back, and you’re up in his arms in the blink of an eye. You cross your own arms over your chest, refusing to hold onto him. “A tree, a fuck. All very original insults," he says drily, “Try Azriel next time, though. We’re trying to be professional about it after all.”

[qqueenofhades]

re your tags on that last post, you could say he was...biden his time

BA DUMP TSHH.

I think that everyone, having gotten through the initial 24 hours of rage, fear, terror, confusion, anger, and frustration, is coming around to the idea that this was possibly a good thing and has undoubtedly given the Democratic ticket a much-needed jolt of energy. There are still all the very valid conversations to be had about the sway of a tiny group of billionaire donors, the media and Anonymous Democratic Sources bullying, the decision to torch Biden when they could so easily (so! easily!!!) have done it to Trump at any time and have clearly decided to go FULLY into the tank for him instead. This has many worrisome implications for democracy, and it's not something to be celebrated. All of that is still very much true.

However, now that we have had concrete evidence of the party immediately cohering around Kamala and the grassroots donors busting down the door to give her money, it may also turn out that this was a very wise political jiu-jitsu move by a very crafty political veteran like Biden. As the post I just reblogged pointed out, he did it AFTER the GOP convention, when the Republicans had already locked in (by any reasonable metric) a terrible, terrible ticket. It makes the Democrats look like the ones responsive to the American people demanding a younger and more mentally "with it" candidate (no matter how obvious the slurs about ageism were in regard to Biden when Trump is literally THREE YEARS YOUNGER and far more obviously scrambled). It opens all the excitement and historic firsts of Obama in 2008, it gives the perfect "Prosecutor vs. Felon" tagline that's really easy to run with and stick in people's minds, it is beautiful revenge for all Trump's horrible sexist behavior in 2016 (and really, his whole life) and it gives the Democrats the narrative, if they can FUCKING STICK TOGETHER AND STOP STABBING EACH OTHER IN THE BACK. Now we get to hear about Kamala's running mate, Kamala's plans, feel-good pieces about how she appeals to youth, women/people of color, etc. etc. ALL THAT IS GOOD.

I think/hope the DNC will now be a massive celebration of Biden, who after all came out of retirement when he was already old to take on Trump, beat him, deliver an incredibly successful presidency, and pass the torch on to Kamala. I saw some criticism of Obama yesterday for not endorsing her immediately, but what I read is that he/the other Democratic big beasts (Pelosi, Schumer, etc) want to be a uniting figure with an endorsement of the final candidate, if there was a contested primary beforehand. Thank fuck, it doesn't look like there will be, but it also means that they might wait until the DNC before openly endorsing her. Now, I am still angry at the Biden knifing that all these three were complicit in to some degree, BUT I also have no doubt that if/when Kamala is confirmed as the nominee, they will line up behind her to endorse her and her VP pick. I have seen Mark Kelly, Roy Cooper, etc as possible picks (since alas, she will probably have to pick a straight white man; Kelly would be replaced in the Senate by Democratic AZ governor Katie Hobbs; Cooper is term-limited as governor in NC and might help us target that state for a flip). But what is number one most important is that we support her and whoever she DOES choose. I have also heard that she is already in the process of vetting picks and this is exciting news.

I am thrilled to vote for a woman for POTUS the second time in a few years, I think she has a real shot at winning, and I am heartened by how the base has rallied to Kamala in 24 hours. Let's fucking go. As my new office decoration says:

[yaut-jaknowit]

Is This The End?

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2332

Summary: With one week to prepare for the end, your emotions are in turmoil. Once in the safety of her quarters, you face off the Yautja and began to berate for this stupid idea.

Author Note: Guys I'm getting scared! There's only two official chapters left that are planned! The end is near.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 17

One week.

Those words echoed loudly with each step back to the safety of We’ar-ow’s room. That’s all the time you are given to come to terms with the end of this. This being your little space you’ve carved out for yourself. After the heartbreaking moment all those months ago to lead you here to be with We’ar-ow of all beings, you were finally happy.

Besides the terror that froze your veins, a raging heat melted the ice away and got your blood pumping. How could you forget these are just beasts? Monsters? Hot tears threatened to fall. Yet, with the frames of other Yautjas meandering through the hallways, you fought them off. She did not care about your feelings nor your safety if she’s offering you up like that.

It was a harsh reality. A slap in the face. A remind you are just her pet, her property. Nothing more in the eyes of that monster. You regretted forgoing your plans of escape. Any chance to get off this ride that was only heartbreak and death for you.

Heat rolled off of We’ar-ow. Her arm brushing against yours with each sway despite you inching to the side each time. You didn’t want her touching you. Not after she offered you to the very beast what wants you dead. The very monster who once loved you.

His words repeated alongside what had transpired. After what the two of you’ve been through, that’s what he’s diminished you to? And the fact he wants kill you. Or when he threatened something worse than death. You shuttered at the thought. A cold sweat causing your spine to tense up. You wished over a year ago that you never accepted Dwainet hand.

Love made you blind.

A mistake you weren’t going to commit twice.

The steel door slid open to reveal the sanctuary of We’ar-ow’s room. A place you could show off your true emotions.

Once locked inside. You stopped a step into the room and let the tears falls. We’ar-ow made her way to her room when she paused mid-step. She quickly about turned on her heel and returned to you. A black stare had blanketed your features as you peered at nothing.

Reality was unforgiving. Why couldn’t you just say no? Why didn’t you just say no to him? None of this would be happening. You would be dead in a week. Now, you get to count the days until both you and We’ar-ow died to Dwainet. Your body probably thrown out into space like garbage because that’s all you were to them. A pet. Nothing worthy of dignity, like Dwainet said.

That caused the first sob to break the heavy silence. It shattered into pieces at your feet.

We’ar-ow knelt down and cupped your cheeks. The rough pads of her fingers wiped any tears away. The sharp tip of her claw dangerously close to your eyes, but the Yautja was careful. “Why do you cry, ooman? Are you having sympathy for that scum now?” she questioned over your sobs and growling out the last few words. “He’s not worthy of anything you give him. Not even your table scraps.”

Your shoulders jumped with each shuttering sob that wrecked your body. Her words flew over your head. The pink Yautja took a different approach and drew you into her warm form. Her strong arms kept you trapped to her, holding you close. One of her hands soothed up and down the length of your bath.

In your despair, you wrapped your arms tightly around her neck and sobbed there. It was We’ar-ow’s fault anyway to have you like this. To have you breaking down like this. After all this time of picking up the pieces to your broken heart without even knowing it, she was throwing them away. It hurt worse this time despite knowing you should’ve expected this.

This race is nothing but beasts.

“Do not shed tears for him. He does not deserve your sorrow,” she rumbled into the air and continuously petting up and down your back.

Anger flared back to life. You ripped yourself away from her in a fit of rage and glared daggers at the Yautja. One who could easily tear your spine out of you without breaking a sweat. The alien stared confused at you, mandibles slightly twitching.

“That’s not why I’m fucking crying!” you screamed and moved out of her reach. The wall growing close to your backside. “You’re the reason. You’re-you’re a bitch! I’m nothing more than a pawn to you in this game. A fucking pet.”

“And you’re handing over your life and me to him without much of a fight. Three verses one. Seriously?! Were you hit over the head as a child?” The words tumbled out of your mouth without a filter in place. You could care less. At least the death she’ll give you will be merciful compared to Dwainet’s ideas.

Yet, We’ar-ow just sat there on her knees and took every word without batting an eye. Your shoulders heaved with every breath, teeth clenched together. Hot, salty tears still staining your cheeks with each one falling.

“I was so damn stupid!” you scoffed and began to pace. Her bright eyes followed your every move. “So goddamn stupid thinking there was at least one being on this cursed ship that didn’t want me dead. Clearly, it’s not Dwainet. And clearly, it’s not you either. Offering my life like that to him.”

You stepped closer to her and poked her chest harshly. With We’ar-ow on her knees like this, she was at eye-level with you. “For one moment in my life, I thought someone could at least care I was alive. That’s the bare minimum. That’s all I wanted. But you… you are just like Dwainet. Same personality, different font.”

At this point, your voice has grown hoarse over all the yelling. All the yelling that should have you dead. Yet, the Yautja had stayed silent and allowed every word to strike her. Not that it did nothing to harm her. Her pet couldn’t harm her. Nothing but a pet to her and everyone’s eyes.

Oh, how much of a fool you were.

We’ar-ow slowly blinked. That just angered you all the more. So much, you wanted to throw something physical at her. Something that could just make her feel a sliver of pain she’s brought down upon you.

“Is that what you think? That I do not care even an ounce about your safety and feelings?” Her words are heavy in the air. A loaded question you were quick to answer with a yes. The pink Yautja hummed, hands slightly twitching and eyes glancing down.

“I have failed then.”

Everything stopped. Your hand fell away from her chest as you froze to the spot. Failed? Those words too were loaded. “What do you mean?” you spat out the words, harsher than you meant to be in the fragile moment.

Her bright orange gaze found yours. Pain. “For everything that has come to this moment, I have done for you. Because you are my ooman. I have laid my claim over you so no other can take you away. All the gifts I have provided; the fights I have issued and won; this last battle to put this finally into the ground, was all for you. Clearly, I have failed.”

You were left speechless, jaw dropping to the floor at your bare feet. This wasn’t anything you’d expected to happen today. Out of everything you believe would’ve happened, for her to admit that…

New tears pooled at your lash line.

“Then why are you practically throwing away your life to challenge Dwainet like that? Three verses one. That’s completely unfair to you. I don’t care your skill level is high or whatever. No Yautja can win a fight like that,” you argued and returned your heated glare on her, for a different type of anger this time. “You are going to get yourself killed and I’ll be Dwainet’s property this time.”

Your shoulders leveled on their own. “If you truly care about me, then you wouldn’t have done that.” She was just throwing her life away at this point and completely not caring what happened to you. Two verses one is doable, but she chose one she’ll lose. You would rather she strike you down right here, right now than be in the hands of Dwainet again.

The Yautja grumbled, mandibles snapping shut. She stood up, towering over your form. Instinctively, you stepped away from her. She ate up that space you willingly gave until your back hit the wall behind you. The beast had you cornered and at her mercy.

One of her hands gripped your chin and tilted your head up. Eye contact was forced upon you. “I did that because I care. I will destroy Dwainet. This act will broadcast to the entire ship you are not to be even looked at. They are not worthy to look upon your form. You are here to stay and I will make sure everyone knows this.”

“No one-“ her hand slid down to wrap securely around your neck “-will ever get in my way. Not when it’s something I desire.” Your heartbeat raced underneath her claws.

Was she not getting it?! She was too oblivious to see she’s doomed herself. You gritted your teeth and clenched your eyes shut, doing everything to stop sobbing. Her fingers squeezed for a moment. That was the last crack in the damn.

Your eyes snapped open, hand gripping her wrist and nails digging into hard flesh. “You don’t get it! You don’t fucking understand it! Don’t do this. Please. Don’t!” You tugged on her wrist but the attempt was futile. “I can’t lose you. Don’t you get it! I love you!”

All you could hear thundering was the wild beating of your heart. Something you knew she could not only hear herself but feel as well. Your chest heaved with every breath you took after words as you gazed up at the pink Yautja you’ve fallen for. An action you said yourself you would never do again. But, history has a funny way of repeating itself.

Hoarse sobs broke free from your dry throat. Your head smacked against the unforgiving wall behind you, eyes drifting shut. What had you done? Those… those words were never meant to make it to the air. They were never to be said. Here you go ruining everything all over again. You hoped for her to just end you right now. Put you out of your misery.

The hand around your throat tightened. “Open your eyes,” she ordered with a gruff voice. At first you refused until she growled. Through the blurriness of tears, you find her gaze burning into you. “What you say is the truth?” Oh god, she was going to make you admit it.

When you went to close your eyes again, she pressed firmly on the sides of your neck. Nowhere near enough to hurt. She looked at you, waiting for those three words fall from your apparently loose lips. “Don’t make me say it again. I’ve embarrassed myself enough already,” you croaked out and gave a pleading look at her.

Yet, the Yautja didn’t relent. You whined, eyes falling shut for only a moment. This time, you knew what words would have a bigger impact on her. Words you’ve learned. “I offer you my bare heart.”

Yautjas don’t use words like love as it’s not part of their culture or language. But to be unarmored and bare to someone is the highest trust you can offer to them. In short terms, it means you love them.

Emotions swirled in those piercing eyes of hers. Nothing concrete you could pick up on. Both of her hands reached down and grasped the back of your thighs. Easily, you were lifted off of the ground but kept trapped to the wall. Her heavy body forced your legs apart as she held you at eye level. “You do know the extent of your words, yes?”

The amount of times you’ve heard from Dwainet… You nodded your head. “I do. And I mean it. You’ve gotten me to love again.” Your poor throat aches from the amount of screaming you’ve accomplished today.

A purr erupted from her throat while she rubs her forehead against yours in a sweet nuzzle. “My ooman,” she mumbled, eyes drifting shut. You gulped down the lump that had been forming and breathed freely. “I will be victorious. All for you, little one.” Your heart swelled at the nickname. This feeling filling you again was long missed.

We’ar-ow pulled you from the wall and carried through her quarters. Her steps were long, fast. You locked your arms around her neck, unable to do the same with your legs to her torso. But her massive hands kept you suspended, pressed to her form. She wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.

The familiar bedroom filled your senses. We’ar-ow brought you onto the bed and sat down all the while still holding as close as possible to her. Her hands stayed where they were as the Yautja leaned back and brought you with her. You were glued to We’ar-ow, legs clenching at her sides to kept you there.

With her back to the mattress, you were laid upon her torso, unable to straddle her. Your knees unable to touch at her sides. When go to shift a little, her claws bite into your thighs, preventing you from escaping. As if you wanted to.

It didn’t take long to find the perfect spot to lay on top of her. Your head was tucked away into her neck. The long rubbery dreads pushed out of your way to lay claim in this sanctuary you’ll call home now.

In her arms, nothing can hurt you. Nothing will hurt you. Nothing will try to hurt you. Not in the face of the Monarch.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 17

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

a/n: finally the first chapter is here and the next one is almost ready for upload. I apologize in advantage, because I am still a bloody beginner in terms of writing. still, enjoy!

Chapter I

Conscription day will forever be one of the deadliest every year, right before Threshing. Ever since the first time I witnessed this from afar I hate it with all my heart. All year I have the same “privilege”, how my father would call it, to watch the candidates, that passed the entrance exam six month prior, fall to their death. And those who survive the Parapet either graduate or going to get killed – due to other cadets or dragons. One wrong move and all you will be is dead meat.

Today is possibly my last day on earth. I have to cross the Parapet myself to get into the Riders Quadrant but according to the General, I will just do fine – I am a Melgren and I have ten years of training in my bones after all. I am still not so sure about this, but I have no say in this. Not anymore.

Somewhere in between these masses of candidates must be a certain other general daughter and I really fucking hope she survives this. Even though she doesn't look like she could kill a fly, I believe wholeheartedly in her. She is strong and if someone can do this, it's her, even if she doesn't knows it yet. I tried to talk to her mother but she wouldn't budge, nothing would change her mind. Even Mira tried it more than once and if the General isn't listening to her, then she won't listen to anyone.

The orders from my father five days ago were clear – wait till the end, when everyone else is done, then I'll cross the Parapet alone. On the other side at the entrance to the quadrant will wait a third year that'll bring me to formation into the Dragon Rotunda. Commandant Panchek is informed that I'll join the Quadrant and which wing.

And with that I am waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

I have a good spot to observe these kids, trying to survive this death trail and see some of them already fall. I don't understand how some of them want to become a rider after all. So many of them volunteer to join the quadrant while others don't have a choice, like me. Malek lingers at every possible corner and no one is safe from him. Having a dragon might be “thrilling”, how many officers describe it, but till you possibly get to this point you could be dead, or worse.

These dragons are terrifying, like that beast of a dragon my father bonded all those years ago, long before I was born.

The weather isn't in anyone’s favor today – the storm took a turn at some point. Even though the sunrise was beautiful, it left a bitter aftertaste as the dark clouds covered the sky. For some of them it was their last sunrise ever.

It's been more than two hours since the first one entered the Parapet and there aren't many candidates left. I make out a figure striking over the stones like they own this place and – did they just threw another candidate down?!

My heart starts racing, my breathing becomes uneven, and I feel like I'm having a panic attack. Shit, now?!

`Take a deep breath, Arya. You`ll do this alone, no one can throw you down and no one will interrupt you.’

I just really hope I`ll never have to meet this asshole. I may look tough and have more fighting experience than others, but those people are unpredictable. And I certainly don`t have my father’s signet to see if I could win a fight against him, so I really want to avoid this guy.

A knock on the door interrupts my train of thoughts and when I turn, one of the officers from infantry stands at the door. “It's time” is the only thing he says. Shit.

Around fifteen minutes later I find myself lingering at the edge of the Parapet. No one else is around, the officer walked away the moment, I stepped foot into the tower.

Only a few centimeters separate me and the abyss. Just a few centimeters left and then I'll be out in the open while the rain thankfully eases into a slight drizzle.

`Okay Arya – you`ve got this. Take a deep breath – and step forward.’

Well … it takes me about three minutes, with stumbling and cursing the shit out of every person that crosses my mind, to reach the other side and I am nearing the entry to the famous Riders Quadrant. Just like father told me, a third year is already waiting for me, looking annoyed. But it's not like he can disobey a direct order from above. “Finally, they are about to start” he grumbles. Hello to you too, grumpy, but I know better than to aggravate him, since he has a dragon that could incinerate me before I even have the chance to hide.

We make our way through the empty corridors of the college while I try to sort my thoughts. I really survived the Parapet and now I am allowed to call myself a cadet. Still alive and can't fucking believe I am now part of this hellhole. I already imagine the way the General will stand in his office and rant about how it was predictable that I would succeed. “She is a Melgren after all and it would have been a waste of time if she didn't survived.”

Faint voices in the distance interrupt my thoughts, which get louder with every step we take but before we can even walk out into the biggest courtyard one has ever seen, the chattering grows quiet.

“Three hundred and one of you have survived the Parapet to become-“

The third year, I have yet to know his name, and I interrupt Commandant Panchek, who stands on the dais in front of the cadets.

“I apologize, Commandant, but it's three hundred and two.”

There is a heavy silence that spreads over the rotunda. I stand behind the tall rider, most of the curious glances immediately find him, only a few of them spot me behind. Great.

[captain-mj]

Vampire Part 7

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Ghost and Soap just stared at Price as he started to ramble about his fiance. 

Dark hair. Pale skin. Beautiful and lovely accent. 

“That doesn’t sound like Graves.” Soap asked tentatively, looking confused. He was under the impression they were going swimmingly. 

“Unfortunately… Graves… turned me down.” Price looked close to tears. Eyes going red as bloody tears filled them. “I asked him to marry me two nights ago after a few hours of making the beast of two backs. He told me that it was too soon.” 

Soap shuddered at the use of that metaphor. “You two have known each other like two days.”

“Exactly! Plenty of time to fall in love.” Price grinned. 

Soap sighed. “No. Humans take time. Months. Years even. It’s not something you really do in a day.” 

Price frowned. “Why?”

“We don’t have an infinite amount of time like you guys. If we end up with the wrong person, we could waste out lives. So we have to make sure it’s the right person.” 

Neither Price or Ghost seemed to get that. Both stared blankly at him as if he was talking a different language. 

“Nevermind.” Soap sighed. They didn’t get it. Neither of them were human anyway. Also, if Ghost asked him to marry him, he’d say yes with absolutely no hesitation. Didn’t want to dissuade him in case he wanted to ask. “Is your fiance also a vampire?”

“No! She’s a witch I believe.”

Ghost gasped. “What if she’s just trying to steal your semen? Witches do that quite often.”

“You’d know from personal experience, wouldn’t you Simon?” Price laughed. “That lady had you tied up for…”

“Three days. She sucked. Literally.” Ghost moved away and looked around. “Have you guys considered that we need a cat?”

Soap was trying to come to terms with what he just heard. 

Interviewer: Sorry for not being here yesterday. I was super sick. Everything alright

Soap: Let me catch you up. So…

Interviewer: Oh my god. 

Alejandro: WATCH THE G-WORD

Interviewer: That’s great! I’m so glad you finally got bitten. Will you turn now?

Soap: Unfortunately not.

Interviewer: Uh huh. And what’s with the witches?

Soap: No clue. Let me ask Rodolfo. 

Rodolfo: Witches steal vampire semen. Everyone knows this.

Interviewer: Why?

Rodolfo: For their evil spells!!

Interviewer: What spells require vampire semen?

Rodolfo: Fucking idiots. 

Interviewer notates that he rolled his eyes and left him to continue his interview with Soap. 

Soap heard knocking and excused himself to go handle it. He opened the door to see… a man. A rather tall man with dark features. Tan skin, black hair, dark eyes. He wore a trenchcoat and had a crossbow with silver tipped arrowheads. 

Please do not be anyone’s sires or anyone’s spawn. 

“Hello. My name is Reyes. Religious?”

Soap stared blankly before realizing his cross necklace was out. He hadn’t even realized he had moved it to be visible while interviewing. He must’ve been fidgeting with it. “Ah. Non practicing catholic. Why?”

“You should keep that close. Are you aware that there are monsters in this neighborhood?”

Oh fuck. Oh no. Did he know? “Huh?”

“There is a monster wandering around back yards and down alleys. Harassing people. Stealing from people’s trash.”

Which of his vampires did this dumb shit?? Which one?? They were all so stupid. Rudy would never go through trashcans so it wasn’t him. Alejandro would get chewed out by Rudy. But Ghost didn’t let people observe him and live. Gaz wasn’t monstrous enough. Price had been busy the past few nights with this mysterious fiance. 

“I am of course talking about bigfoot.” Reyes continued.

Soap sighed in relief. “Oh that’s it?” He was all dressed up and had a crossbow for fucking bigfoot?

Reyes frowned. “This is very serious. A monster is loose. There have been multiple sightings. It’s a public safety concern.”

This dude is insane. Certified. Soap knew for a fact that bigfoot isn’t real. “Right. Well, it’s 10 pm and you’ve just given me a lot of information. What do you plan on doing about this?”

“I’m spreading the word in case they’re spotted.” He handed Soap a business card. “If you see anything wrong, just give me a call and I’ll be there. I want to nip this monster in the bud before it can get away again.”

“Again?”

“I’ve been tracking them for months. Following them across the country to try to trap them and I believe in this town, I can finally get them.” 

Soap didn’t know that Bigfoot used they/them pronouns. He was proud of them for coming out. 

“Right. Well, if I see anything, I promise to give you a call, Reyes.”

Unknown to Soap, Alejandro heard the name and felt a summon in his soul. He fled down the stairs and stayed at the edge of the door so he couldn’t be seen by the hunter in the door. 

Reyes nodded. “Thank you. Stay safe. Save your eggshells and crush them up. If you put them in your windows, it’ll keep werewolves out.” 

Alejandro immediately grabbed some eggshells and started to crush them as he waited for him to leave.

Soap noticed and rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah. Thanks. I’m sure my roommates will be doing that. See you later.”

“Roommates?”

Soap closed the door in his face. “Alejandro.” 

Alejandro was hurried putting the crushed (not to powder, just vaguely crushed) eggshells in the windows. “I’m going to be rid of that dog.” 

Soap found how easily Alejandro could change from intelligent, almost manipulative suave person to a superstitious and… almost goofy guy was interesting. “Why did you come down?”

“Heard his name. My friend Chuy warned me that a hunter was nearby.”

“Chuy? Haven’t heard about him.”

“Yeah, he’s this vampire that dresses up in weird suits and then hangs out in the woods.” 

Soap paused. “Wait, what?” 

“Yeah. Like… the grassy ones. Ghillie suits.”

“Huh. So bigfoot is real. Just… a vampire in a costume.”

“Yeah, exactly. He’s great. Really funny.” Alejandro got out his phone and used siri to call Chuy. He put it on speakerphone but they both heard the ringing coming from upstairs. 

Soap jumped into Alejandro’s arms. “Why is in the house?? With no warning?”

“Look, I didn’t even know he was in town! You’re being really rude right now. Go welcome our guest.”

It occurred to neither of them that someone had to have invited him in if he was a vampire. 

Interviewer: Hi.

Chuy: Hi. 

Interviewer: I love the… antlers on your suit. 

Chuy: Thank you. I fled here to escape a cartel located in Mexico. I was betrayed.

Interviewer: Oh, wow. You’re an open book, I love that. Why were they chasing you?

Chuy: I stole all of their money.

Interviewer: Ah. 

Alejandro slowly crept up the stairs, still carrying Soap.  He planned to use him as a shield if Chuy attacked them. 

“Oh. You’re doing an interview?”

Chuy looked up, wearing a cowboy hat and sunglasses. “Oh, yeah. Just… chilling. Why are you toying with your food?”

Alejandro dropped Soap on the ground. “He’s Ghost’s familiar. How are you man?” He pulled up a chair, distracting from the interviewer who just shrugged it off and got up to get himself a coffee. Soap continued to lay on the ground, thinking about something else. 

“Ah, Ghost. Hope he’s doing well.” Chuy stretched, bones popping unnaturally. “I heard Koenig is planning on traveling through this area soon as well. Wonder if we’ll all bump into each other.”

Alejandro frowned. “Lot of vampires have been coming through lately. Price is actually staying right now. There a reason for that?”

Chuy hummed. “Hunters for me and Koenig. Apparently they’ve been trying to crack down on us. Won’t work well for them though… Don’t kill Reyes by the way. He’s not dangerous to anyone but me. He’s a dog with a bone I’ve realized and I want to see how long until he gives up.”

Alejandro nodded slowly, though he looked suspicious. 

Soap dusted himself off and properly introduced himself. “Chuy is it?”

“Well, my actual name is Jesus.” Alejandro flinched when Chuy said that. “But as you can see, it’s a bit of a sensitive name around here so I stick with Chuy.” 

Soap nodded. “They call me Soap.”

“Considering how clean the house is, it’s a fitting nickname.” Chuy smiled kindly at him. 

Soap beamed at the praise but Alejandro quickly took Chuy’s attention to found out more about why he was there. 

Soap went outside for a smoke. The night was young and he was already stressed. Before he could even light it, he heard a whistle and looked over at Graves who was waving him over. He took the invitation, clearing the small space between his front door and Graves’s fence. 

Graves had almost healed bruises on his neck, so it looked like Price had gotten lucky. 

Soap wanted to get this out of the way. “If you’re going to ask me about Price, I’m sorry but he’s got a fiance. I’m really really sorry.” He prepared for high emotions. Sadness. Anger.

Graves just sipped his coffee and nodded. “I didn’t… He didn’t use me to cheat did he?”

“No. They uh… moved fast.”

“Yeah. I’m glad he found someone who’d accept his proposal five minutes into meeting. He kept calling me nicknames and just moving really fast. It was strange. You want a cup?”

Soap could’ve kissed Graves on the fucking mouth. He had money to spare so he always got really nice coffee. The expensive kinds that came in little packs or had to be brewed certain ways. “I’d love to, man.”

Graves smiled and let him inside. “Did the weird religious conspiracy theory guy talk to you?”

It took Soap just a moment to realize he meant Reyes. “Yeah. Dude was definitely out there. Did he give you his card?”

Graves laughed. “Oh, yeah. Monster hunter huh? What’s he going to do? Kill all the vampires in your house?”

Soap froze, staring. Graves didn’t seem to notice, just quietly fixing the cup before sliding it over. 

“Oh, come on Soap. They all have fangs, never come outside during the day and, oh yeah, Price told me. Like immediately. Said I looked like his dead wife.”

“That why you invited me in?” Soap was afraid. He didn’t know why. This was new territory. His neighbor, which was one of the few people he had to hide this from, suddenly knew. 

“No. I invited you in because you looked dead on your feet and I thought you might want to talk.”

Soap took a deep breath. 

Yeah. He did want to talk.

“Monster hunters are so dumb.”

Graves laughed. “Not where I was expecting this to go. But okay.” 

Soap nodded. “They’re so stupid! They just bumble around and sometimes kill someone! I killed a vampire easier than them!”

“You killed a vampire?”

“Don’t tell anyone.” Soap sighed and started to drink the coffee. “I know you won’t which is why I am telling you because I really need to talk to someone about this. And the vampires are so dumb sometimes too! Like certified idiots. The only reason they haven’t walked into the sun is they’re old enough to know better and honestly?? I think they’d forget if not for everyone else.”

Graves sat down to continue listening.

“And now I have to deal with these werewolves, those are real by the way, and they’re great but they just barge in at all times without caring about the fact that I have to clean up after them and try to get the smell out of the carpet.”

“They smell?”

“The vampires think so!” Soap exclaimed, feeling so tired. “I don’t know why they’re like that. All of them are so particular and want everything to be just right and….” He sighed and put his head on the table.

“And you put up with this, why?” 

“I’m their familiar. Ghost is going to make me a vampire.”

“That’s it? I mean… You could probably just find a vampire elsewhere right?”

Soap hesitated. “I mean. Yeah, I could. But they couldn’t know I’m a familiar. It’s improper to turn someone else’s. And Ghost would be upset.”

Graves tilted his head. “Ghost is the masked one, right?”

“Yes.”

“What’s he like?”

“Tall. Hot. Amazing. Dramatic, but I love it about him.”

Graves smiled at him and got up again. He went into his cabinet and Soap noticed some weird bottles of powder. Not quite salt. Just white powder. He really hoped Graves wasn’t an addict. Graves grabbed whatever he was looking for and shrugged. “I hope you get turned soon, friend. See you around.” 

Soap was up and out of there before he really put together how weird of a dismissal that was. It worked well though. 

Graves quietly sharpened a couple of bolts he had for his crossbow. 

What a shame. He’d hate to have to take a different hunter’s kill.

[ifidiedinadream]

Soft/cute Aleksi reader insert idea. You've been dating for a little bit mostly long distance due to tour and when tour is over you stay at his place and meet Rilla for the first time.

this is a request from december, if you're still here anon i hope you enjoy 😅🩷

also on ao3

Aleksi is waiting by the front yard when you arrive at his house. The black Nirvana cap shields his eyes from the sun, and he’s wearing the loveliest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Hey, baby,” he says as you hug him tightly, for the first time in weeks.

“I missed you so much.”

Aleksi briefly pulls away to kiss you. Your whole being relaxes in an instant.

“Wanna come inside? I must warn you though, a ferocious beast lives with me.”

You snort, making your way through his front yard to the front door with him. You’ve never been here before, and you only saw pictures and videos of Rilla, and you’re so excited about finally experiencing this (Aleksi’s world; his life) that your fingers are tingling.

“You mean your cute dachshund?”

“Exactly. She’s vicious.”

You can hear her bark from the patio.

“Should I fear for my life? Will she attack me?”

“Who knows. I’ll do my best to save you in case that happens, though.”

Aleksi opens the door. Rilla dashes towards him, but halts when she sees you. Your presence perplexes her, but at the same time she just can’t not say hi to her owner, even if he left for presumably no more than five minutes. She alternates jumping on Aleksi’s legs and letting out excited sounds and barking at you, doing her best to protect Aleksi from the scary intruder (the fact that he brought you along means nothing to her). It’s fun to watch. Aleksi crouches down and tries to calm her down. She shows him her belly and quiets down after a few scratches.

“Now, little one, she’s my girlfriend, so you better treat her right, understood? She comes in peace.”

Trying not to upset or scare her, you approach the little dog slowly, and she promptly gets on her paws, alert. You kneel down, giving her the time to come closer and sniff you on her own terms. She doesn’t, only looks at you with her intense black eyes, growling from deep in her little body.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, so you reach in your pocket to grab the treats you brought along. You put one in the palm of your hand and offer it to her.

“You came prepared,” Aleksi laughs.

“I will win her over. Whether she wants it or not.”

“Well, food is the right weapon. She likes to act all stubborn at first, but it’s all for show. She doesn’t want you to think she’s weak.”

“I don’t think you’re weak, baby! Please, give me a chance. I won’t harm you or your Daddy.”

As if encouraged by your words (but it’s actually the smell of the treat), Rilla walks over, ever so slowly - suspiciously. She sniffs your hand at first, inspecting, then hesitantly takes the treat. Once she’s had a taste, there’s no turning back: she devours the rest of it, and you give her another one. You take the chance to pet her little head. She doesn’t run away, so you dare a bit more and scratch behind her ears. She seems to love it, and when you stop, she comes even closer, lying down by your legs on her back, offering you her belly.

“Yay! I tamed the beast!”

You rub her belly and she kicks her leg. At this point, you don’t know who’s more excited.

“You did such a great job, I’m impressed.” Aleksi shuffles on the floor so that he’s sitting behind you. Feeling his solid chest behind your back, you lean into him. He grabs your waist and leaves a kiss on your hairline. “This wasn’t easy.”

“Will she get mad if I kiss you? Thinking I’m trying to eat you or something?”

“Nah, she loves you now. You’re fine.”

“You’re only saying it because you want the kiss.”

“Well, okay. Maybe.”

Willing to challenge fate, you pull Aleksi in a kiss anyway. His mouth is soft and warm and the touch of his tongue makes all the butterflies in your stomach fly around without a care in the world, like it’s spring and all the flowers suddenly bloomed, offering their sweet nectar to them. You momentarily forget about Rilla, at least until her little tongue finds your hand. The way she’s licking at your fingers tickles.

Giggling, you break the kiss. Aleksi looks down at the dog with mock annoyance, then gets up, nudging you to do the same.

“Trying to steal her from me, huh?” he asks the dog. Aleksi opens the front door, making sure Rilla notices. “Well, you can play with her later. If I’m feeling generous, that is. Now go play outside.”

Something on the other side of the door (maybe a squirrel or a bird), catches Rilla’s attention and she runs towards the front yard. Aleksi closes the door behind her.

“Jealous of what Rilla and I have already?”  

Aleksi holds your waist again, and the way the grip is tighter than before makes your laughter die out, bringing about another kind of emotion. His kiss is deeper, leaving your head spinning, and the darkness in his eyes makes your heart beat faster.

“Is it wrong if I want you all to myself, finally?”

You can only shake your head no as his lips find your neck.

[nkn0va]

Another OC Post

My previous post that debuted Six got very glowing reviews from @your-phantomfield. After some conversation I ended up getting another idea for a oneshot, this time also featuring one of their OCs as well with their blessing and some help. Writing motivation has unfortunately been butchered due to multiple factors but they've managed to make me really wanna do this. Hopefully this goes just as well as the last one.

Yet another long post under the cut. (Like, noticeably longer than the last one.)

Six...for lack of a better term, froze when he found out. Yet his heart was going a million miles a minute with a myriad of emotions all at once, feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest.

Hakumen...Trinity...

...Nine...

His magic reacted to his emotions, becoming unstable and chaotic just like they were right now. Almost to a dangerous degree. His arms glowed with the near overflow of power, any lesser Sage would've lost control and lead to disaster. He'd been told of the news from Valkenhayn who'd learned about it from Jubei, and with only a word of thanks for the news he teleported away, ending up somewhere in the forest outside of the Alucard Manor. The tree unfortunate enough to be next to him was the victim of his rage in the moment, receiving a punch and combined with his power, immediately froze over, the bark becoming rock solid and the leaves turning brittle like ice cubes.

It didn't take a genius to figure out who was responsible for it. He already knew even without being told. The only question was how. How the hell did he break free from the Mind Eater? Even if this was Terumi, he couldn't think of a single way he was able to break Nine of all people's spell. That didn't matter though, what was done was done. More importantly, he had some questions that needed answers, and only one person could give them to him.

With a teleport, Six was at the doorstep of a small house in the outskirts of Ishana. He didn't bother to knock, it was rather likely he was already being expected. He opened the door and the person he was looking for was expectedly there, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the center of the living room.

There sat a woman, a tad bit older than Six. Her face was largely covered in a midnight black veil that ran down the length of her body and flowed onto the floor behind her. Her aura was that of emptiness. Apathy, even. Yet beneath the facade, she was rather intrigued about how this interaction might turn out.

"You've come", she stated plainly. She'd known that he was going to, and she had a pretty good idea why. She needed no power to figure it out.

Six crossed his arms, his patience already being considerably worn. Four was no longer deserving of any formalities, as far as he was concerned. He cut straight to the chase.

"So you kept silent again. And once more other people are paying for that."

"Whatever do you speak of?"

"Don't you even think of trying to play oblivious, it's not going to save you this time." Six pointed an accusatory finger at his colleague.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re falling like flies out here as of late. One got eaten up by the Black Beast like a corn chip, Eight was killed by the weapons that were supposed to protect us, Seven’s gone AWOL, Clavis of all people dropped dead, and now…”

Six had to stop for a bit, taking a deep breath in an attempt to keep his composure. Six was only getting more exasperated the more he spoke, it was clear in his body language. He gestured around with his hands one by one as whilst listing the situation Ishana and the world at large found itself in, each movement unconsciously letting out a small gust of chilly air. His magic was starting to grow just as agitated as he was. “...Now four of the Six Heroes, two of which were among our own, are now wandering about in the Boundary who knows where… and yet again here you are, doing nothing about it.”

Under all the veils, she's smiling during the first half of Six's confrontation. He's snappy, he's interesting... until he directs the blame for all of this onto her. How childish.

"I'm a noncombatant." A simple, to the point answer, as if it absolves her of all culpability. As if somehow Six had simply forgotten that, and everything will be all right now that she's pointed out the obvious. He wasn't buying that though, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

“And that’s your excuse? Your excuse to watch and let people die? Your lack of frontline capabilities and the limitations on your powers to do nothing? You couldn’t have spoken up? You simply let things start falling apart because it’s inconvenient to your abilities?” 

Before a response could be formulated, he turned his head away for a moment, scoffing. Now that the words had actually escaped his mouth he realized how redundant it sounded. “Who am I kidding, of course it is. You already let millions die with that excuse when you said nothing about the Black Beast. We let you off because your intel was useful, but now you seem to think your work is done. Now that the Beast isn't at risk of knocking on your doorstep anymore apparently you're of the idea that nothing matters."

“Was that not the state of the world at large for years, Six,” Four inquired calmly and matter-of-factly. “All that death you're so concerned about, that has simply become a way of life now. That's what happens in war. We lost Nine, but she saved countless. She's a hero. She served her role... you're just taking it personally because you wanted to fuck her."

Oh hell no.

His head dipped down, the shadow of his hat covering his face. The only thing peering from under the cloak of darkness was a single pale blue light. The fury in its brightness was clear as a winter afternoon sky, the cold aura that emanated from it contrasted with the unusual raging hot fury that gripped Six’s psyche and refused to let go. Six wasn’t like Nine, he was above raising his voice. He didn’t need to, the tone he spoke with more than conveyed his emotions. Calm, yet venomous, bitingly cold. He had more than one way of making others freeze in their tracks.

"You want to run that by me again, by chance?"

His cloak and hat fluttered in the wind. The icy, cloudy air that now permeated the room and formed crystals of ice at his feet, sending chills down Four's spine. If she couldn’t find a way out of this, her only choice left against the enraged ice-clad angel, or demon, depending on who was asked, would be to pick a god and pray. Even then, they might not be able to save her now.

The heaviness of the situation began to creep in on her, both figuratively and literally. Normally it would excite her, the entertainment a tempting prospect to play with. Though now she realized perhaps she'd extinguished that possibility now. There was no way even she could escape the fury of the Frost Angel, as some had taken to calling him. The fact she'd even gotten this far now meant she now needed a way out, lest she be extinguished as well.

Thankfully, she just happened to have the perfect ace in her sleeve.

"You think I wouldn't have seen your feelings for her by now? It's why you're acting up like this. It's quite unusual for you. You think she's dead."

The light dimmed, a good sign. "What...? What are you trying to say?"

"Did you honestly believe someone like Nine would fall victim to the Boundary? She's perfectly alive and well, just not right now."

The bright blue light narrowed, Six evidently squinting his eyes in suspicion as if she'd gone crazy. "You're telling me that someone is capable of surviving the Boundary? The place of infinite Seithr, where the Black Beast came from? That Boundary? Are you going to tell me that Terumi will come back and start a non-profit charity next?"

The clairvoyant's body racked slightly with a silent laughter, the most emotion she'd shown in a while. She couldn't lie and say that his snappiness wasn't amusing when he wasn't apparently holding back the urge to freeze her solid. "Come now, Six. Let's not be unrealistic here."

Despite the sheer amount of palpable irony, the words died in Six's throat, in contrast to the indifference Four had shown to...well, just about everything. Surviving the Boundary...was that truly possible? He did suppose if anyone was capable of it, it was Nine. And as much as he preferred not to admit, Four had yet to lead astray with her visions.

The light didn't go away completely, but it was clear her strategy was working. "...Where?"

Now this was getting interesting. Four hummed to herself in focus, peering into the future where she saw Nine again. The veils she wore hid her visions from his sight. "...About 85 years into the future, give or take. You could potentially make it there if you took your own chance in the Boundary."

Six could only fall silent. So Nine really was out there? But so far into the future. Attempting to go through the Boundary did seem like his only real chance, but that chance was so miniscule, even for him. Even if he did make it out in one piece, there was no guarantee he'd even make it to where he needs to go.

Four sensed his hesitation, capitalizing on it to shake his resolve as much as possible. "Surely you can pull this off, can't you? You're a Great Sage yourself, one of the youngest to ever do it. Such a painful loss you had to go through...Jubei came and swooped her up before you could get the chance to tell her how you feel, they get married, have a child, only for her to be taken away. Do you not see that as an injustice?"

"I-..." Six turned his head away, the feelings he'd tried to hide deep down for years at this point rising to the surface. His mind played back the promise he'd made to himself all that time ago now, when he'd become Nine's equal, when he'd finally proven himself to her and the rest of Ishana. When the hat was put on his head for the first time.

'Whatever happens, no matter what I need to do, I'll do it. I'd freeze the sun over if it meant keeping her dream alive.'

Four knew she was inside his head now. She was almost out of the woods. "If she's sent so far in time, now's your perfect chance. You can finally make up for such tragedy. You truly deserved better, Six, and you can get it. All you have to do is take that leap of faith forward. That is what people do for love, is it not?"

It didn't take long after that to figure out what she was trying to do. She'd gone into self-preservation mode. Both of them were acutely aware of their power dynamic. If Six was more of the brutish type he could easily dispatch the other Sage. Instead, he simply turned on his heel, his back facing Four now.

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Four. You're in no position to lecture me on loss. You’ve never experienced it for yourself. That feeling truly only comes when what you’ve lost is something you love more than yourself. I’m rather doubtful that someone like that comes to mind for you.”

The frost and crystals that had begun to permeate the room disappeared in a flash of blue light. There was nothing more for him to say, but plenty to think about. "Next time we see each other again, you're going to pay for all the blood that rests on your hands. There's a price for every sin, sloth included."

With that final warning, he warped away. Now alone, Four allowed herself a small, yet excited smile. She could see it; he was about to do something. Jump into the cauldron? Set off to simply survive the march of time? She couldn't see it, nor what he intended to do when they met. There was only one thing she was truly sure of.

"I look forward to it...Nivalis."

~~~

The sixth of the Great Sages found himself at the Cauldron hidden deep beneath Ishana. His face had gone back to normal staring into the gateway as he pondered Four's words...and the possibility that Nine was waiting on the other side.

Could he really pull something like that off? Swim through an endless abyss full of nothing but Seithr? It sounded absolutely ludicrous, but Four had confirmed it was possible. He didn't have a reason to doubt it. She was many things, but dishonest had never been one of them for as long as he'd known her.

"I do hope you aren't thinking of actually jumping. It'd be a terrible waste to die attempting such a fool's errand."

Six's head perked up suddenly, having been shaken out of his thoughts. He'd been caught red-handed. And by a very familiar voice, no less. The girlish, posh voice was one that someone didn't simply forget.

"Surely you have much more valuable uses of your time than to stare into that old thing. Such thoughts of attempting Boundary travel in the first place should be beneath someone of your stature."

Six sighed forlornly, the whirlwind in his mind was clear as day for anyone to see. "It's Four...she told me-"

"She told you that Nine is still out there, isn't she?"

He properly turned around now to face Rachel, his eyes widened. "How did you...?"

The vampire allowed herself a small, smug giggle. "I do happen to have a few tricks of my own."

Vague as ever, he noticed. He knew it'd be a waste of time to try and get her to elaborate. He looked back between her and the Cauldron a few times before his gaze landed on her once more.

"If it's really true...then what do you think I should do?"

Rachel closed her eyes at the thought, seeming to think, or at least pretending to as her smile disappeared.

"Must you need me to tell you everything? Why you're one of the Great Sages, for crying out loud. The greatest cryomancer this world has ever seen. Surely you can figure out the answer on your own."

She stopped though for a moment, humming in thought. "...Although I suppose an emotion such as love can indeed cloud the mind. What do you currently believe to be the correct course of action?"

That stuck out to him. The feelings he had for Nine were indeed impairing his better judgment. He had Four to thank for that. He needed to take a step back and truly think about what he should do.

Terumi...the one responsible for everything. It was his fault that she, Trinity, and Hakumen were unjustly taken from him. It was him that needed to pay, however he didn't know if and when he would ever pop up again.

His mind started racing. Confronting the true culprit should be priority number one, but he didn't know where, or specifically when to start. He needed a reliable way to last long enough, but what? Rachel did have a point, his ice magic was second to none, surely he could-

That's it...

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Rachel's voice once more, apparently he'd been silent for longer than he anticipated. "Six? Earth to Six. Are you even paying attention?"

He shook his head, snapping back to reality and recollecting himself. "O-Oh, yes. Sorry, Miss Rachel."

"Perhaps by chance you were taking my words to heart and came up with the solution?"

For the first time since Nine had been banished to the Boundary, Six allowed himself a smile, though small it may have been. He nodded in confirmation. "Yes, I have."

He vanished in a flash of light as he teleported away, only to come back before Rachel could fully register that he'd left a few seconds later. In his hands was a glass ball that he held out for her to take. The ball looked and felt a bit comically large in her tiny, pale hands.

"I'm going into hiding, use that whenever you need to find me again. I'll be waiting." With that Six began making his way out of the cathedral, leaving Rachel alone with her new artifact. The magic she sensed inside had his fingerprints all over it, he definitely made it himself. For what purpose originally, she couldn't tell, but now it was for her to have.

Her bright crimson eyes peered deep into the ball, trying to look past the fog inside that was preventing the transparency it should have. It cleared up as she looked into it, showing her Six walking outside and into Ishana's town square.

So that's what it was...

~~~

There was one more person to find before he could enact his plan. He left the larger city of Ishana and into the forest surrounding the city. There wasn't much so this wouldn't be hard. After some walking, he came to a stop.

"So, how much longer do you plan on just standing there?"

A familiar figure came out from the shadows, a rather short one, though one that Six damn well knew not to take lightly, at least if it was an enemy.

"You've been gettin' better, kid. Color me impressed."

"Well, I had the privilege of learning from many of the best."

He recognized the look on Jubei's face. Behind the friendly attitude, he was just as devastated over their current circumstances as he was.

"Hey, about Nine, I..."

"Just save it, Six." Jubei's mood immediately dropped at the mention of Nine. At this point he just felt...done. Done with the loss, done with the pity, no matter how genuine it might've been.

"No, I'm not here to offer my condolences. I'm sure you already have enough of those to go around. I need to give you something."

"Give me something? What might that be?"

Six had already given his enchanted tracking ball to Rachel, so the next thing to give was a test tube with a crimson liquid inside.

"Use this when the time's right, just pour it onto the ground and it'll lead you right to me, at least when you're close enough."

"Lead to you?" The beastkin was understandably confused. "Where are you headin' off to now, kid?"

"You'll find out eventually. Rachel will know what to do. Just...promise me something. Take good care of that kid for me, alright? She's all we got left of Nine. I'd do it myself, but...it was you she chose."

He had to hold back his tongue, refraining from saying anything more out of jealousy, or perhaps even animosity. He didn't want any of the latter to be between him and Jubei. He had respect for everything he'd done, both for him and the world at large. Jealous? Well who wouldn't be jealous of the person who'd stolen the only person they'd fallen for away, but he couldn't fault Jubei for his own shortcoming of taking the leap. He turned around and started making his way back to Ishana to make the last of his preparations.

Jubei's eye widened to double its normal size as he put two and two together. He stared blankly at his comrade's back as he returned to the city, emotions inside him conflicting left and right at the revelation. A bit of shock, a lot of intrigue, a bit of concern, a bit of guilt.

"Wait, kid, I-..."

The words seemed to completely leave Jubei as Six stopped looked back at him.

"Don't feel bad about it, you just did what I couldn't do myself. All I want you to do is keep that promise."

There were so many things Jubei wanted to say. He wanted to defend himself, he wanted to console Six, perhaps apologize to him. His throat clenched up, and there was only one thing he could muster up the strength to say.

"...I promise."

"Then we're even." The Sage turned back around toward Ishana before his emotions started running too high. Before his resolve could waver. It couldn't, not now.

"Wake me when you need me."

[the-al-chemist]

Artemis Hexley and the Return to the Riddles

Chapter 7: The Most Powerful Puffskein at Hogwarts

A/N: I had THE most fun writing this chapter. Happy Halloween. Kudos to @cursebreakerfarrier for changing the furby’s eyes in the above photo. Warnings: mentions of grief/loss, and a savage beast.

October was growing more autumnal by the day, with the sky painted grey and the grounds covered in leaves in every imaginable shade of umber, orange, and yellow. The giant pumpkins in Hagrid’s garden were almost ready to be picked, and the students had started to don their knitwear. It was a typical autumn term at Hogwarts, in almost every way, except for one thing: the thief was still at large.

With more items going missing daily, and still no luck finding the culprit, Corey Hayden the Head Boy was arranging more and more prefects’ meetings, which Artemis was finding more and more tedious.

“Honestly, this is pointless,” she whispered to Charlie, as Corey announced - yet again - that he still had no leads. “If they’ve run out of the good sandwiches by the time we get to lunch, I’m going to be livid.”

Charlie made a low, sympathetic humming noise, and Artemis crossed her arms over her chest as she looked out of the window at the rain falling steadily on the surface of the Black Lake outside. On the shore, a single white swan was grooming itself and ruffling its feathers. It was miserable weather outside, but Artemis still would have gladly traded places with that one wet swan, if only to avoid having to listen to Corey droning on.

“I’ve been re-reading all my detective novels,” Corey was now saying, “and I think we really should consider the possibility that the thief is one of the people who reported an item stolen.”

“Why would a thief report a theft that they committed?”

“In order to shift the blame from themselves. In The Detective Files of-”

“You’re using tips from detective novels to help you find out whose been nicking a few girls’ jewellery from around the school?” said Victor Ketsueki, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips. “What’s your next theory? A Niffler did it?”

There were a few muffled snorts of laughter from around the room as Victor rolled his eyes and Corey bristled. Artemis pursed her lips. Though she found Corey insufferable, she disliked Victor just as much. She also hated these meetings, but at least she had the good sense to sit through them in surly silence and not try and draw attention to herself. Besides, it wasn’t just ‘a few girls’ jewellery’ that had been lost. These were things that had meant something to their original owners, and still did, such as Murphy’s Golden Snitch pin badge and Talbott’s mother’s old necklace. 

She narrowed her eyes at both Corey and Victor before returning her attention to the view from the window. The rain outside was falling more heavily now, and even the swan had disappeared from view, presumably having grown as bored of his own situation as Artemis had of hers.

“Well, if you all wouldn’t mind speaking again to the people in your houses who claim to have had things stolen from them, that would be appreciated,” Corey said. “You’re all free to go.”

At last, Artemis thought. She slung her yellow rucksack over her shoulder and followed Charlie and Badeea across the classroom. She got to the door at the same time as Victor Ketsueki, who stepped in front of her as if he hadn’t noticed her there.

“Excuse me.” Her mouth dropped open. “I was just-”

“Well done. You remembered the words I taught you,” said Victor. He gave her an insincere smile before turning his collar up and walking away down the corridor in the opposite direction to the rest of the prefects.

Artemis frowned as she watched him leave. Why was he not going to lunch in the Great Hall like everyone else? What was he up to?

“He’s probably meeting a girl,” said Badeea, as Artemis caught up with her and Charlie. “They all seem to like him these days.”

“Why?”

“I expect it’s because of the poems. You should see him in the Common Room, he’s always scribbling away. Tulip and I asked him what he was writing the other night, he told us it was a haiku.”

“Bless you.”

“It’s a kind of Japanese poem,” Badeea laughed, not unkindly. “Short but sweet, you know?”

“She knows about one of those things,” muttered Charlie, and he left for the Gryffindor table. 

He was already halfway across the Great Hall before Artemis understood the joke, and so she tutted to herself as she took her own seat at the Hufflepuff table with her dorm-mates.

“How was the meeting?” asked Penny. “Are you any closer to finding out who the thief is?”

“No.”

“Well, did you tell Corey about mine and Talbott’s Animagus theory?”

Artemis shook her head. As much as she agreed with Penny and Talbott that their theory made sense, what with the fact that ingredients needed to make the Animagus potion had been stolen from Professor Snape’s storeroom, she didn’t see how her sharing the idea with Corey would help find the thief, or if he’d even listen to her in the first place.

“Corey’s got it into his head that one of the people who’ve had something stolen might be the thief,” she told the others. “He read about it in some detective story.”

“For Godric’s sake.” Tonks rolled her eyes. “He does realise that stories aren’t real, right?”

“I’m more interested in why someone would steal all these things in the first place,” said Chiara, her pale eyes furrowing. “I understand the potion ingredients to make an Animagus potion, but the rest… There doesn’t seem to be much rhyme or reason to it. Jae told me in Divination that half of it wouldn’t even be that valuable. Perhaps we are looking at some sort of sudden onset kleptomania. It might be spell or trauma induced.”

“In which case, we’d need to look into anyone acting strangely or out of character.”

“Like Victor Ketsueki,” said Artemis, her teeth grazing her bottom lip. “Everyone who knows him says he’s been acting differently since we’ve been back at Hogwarts.”

“Well, yes.” Penny’s blonde hair fell over her shoulders as she shook her head. “But that is because he’s been turned into a vampire.”

“Has he, though? Or is that just a big lie? Because as far as I’ve seen, he’s not vampire-like, he’s just rude and full of himself. And, I just saw him skulking off somewhere by himself at lunchtime. Why would he not go for lunch unless he was up to something?”

“Because vampires don’t eat like regular people. And he is a vampire, not a kleptomaniac.”

“Can he not be both?” Artemis asked, and Penny sighed deeply. “No, but think about it. If he is a vampire, like you say he is, then he would be able to steal things easily, wouldn’t he? He can go anywhere he likes, as long as someone invites him in. Loads of girls like him these days, they might do it, or he could just fly into all the dormitories as a bat.”

“If someone had invited him in, then they’d know he was there to steal things,” Penny reasoned. “And him already changing into a bat would mean that he wouldn’t need to become an Animagus.”

Artemis frowned. Penny had a point. Still, there was something not right about Victor, she was sure of it. Penny clearly could see that she had out-argued Artemis, because she gave her a wide smile and returned to her lunch. Artemis sighed before picking out some sandwiches for herself. Her stomach had begun to rumble almost as loudly as the thunder outside.

After lunch, Artemis had a double Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Having finished her sandwiches and bade farewell to the other girls, she made her way through the wet and windy grounds to the outdoor classroom, where she found all the rest of her classmates standing under the wooden shelters as they waited for Professor Kettleburn to arrive.

All except one, that was.

“Where’s Merula?” Artemis asked. Her question was met with a chorus of non-committal noises and Charlie Weasley’s shrugging shoulders. “Ismelda, you’re Merula’s friend. Do you not have any idea where she is?”

“No,” muttered Ismelda. “I dunno where she is, and I’m not her friend, either.”

“But I thought-”

“You thought wrong, didn’t you?” Ismelda sighed, a dark look in her eyes. “Merula and I hardly even speak these days. She went all of last month without saying a word to me. I’m not exaggerating.”

“She isn’t,” said Barnaby, nodding his head enthusiastically. “Merula didn’t speak to anyone last month at all. She didn’t even tell me I was stupid. I thought that maybe I was getting cleverer, but she is talking again now and she’s called me stupid three times in the last week. So I don’t think I am getting cleverer, after all. Look, a Bowtruckle!”

Barnaby walked off to look at a nearby tree with a spring in his step, apparently nonplussed by Merula’s behaviour. Artemis frowned.

“Wait,” she said, turning back to Ismelda. “So, Merula didn’t talk for a whole month?”

“Yes, Hexley. I’m surprised that you didn’t notice.”

“Do you know why?”

“No. All I know is that she’s now talking again,” Ismelda scowled. “Talking too much, if you ask me. Keeps reciting lines of poetry or something in Latin at dawn and dusk every day. It’s irritating.”

As Professor Kettleburn trudged through the mud to meet them and the lesson began, Artemis found herself struggling to concentrate. As the class went on with no sign of Merula, something kept niggling at the back of her brain.

“Earth to Artemis,” said Charlie, waving his hand in front of her face. She blinked, realising that she had not been paying attention. Charlie frowned. “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah, I just… Don’t you think it’s weird?”

“Er, what?”

“Merula,” Artemis said. “I mean, she stops talking for a month, and then she’s speaking odd Latin words, and now she’s not here.”

“I guess,” Charlie shrugged, and used the sleeve of his robes to push rainwater off his face as yet another roll of thunder echoed in the distance. “Maybe she just doesn’t like the idea of being out in this rain.”

“And the Latin?”

“I dunno. A spell, maybe? I don’t know what kind of spell you’d need to do every morning and evening though.”

Artemis’ eyes widened. She actually did know of a spell that had to be recited every morning and evening without fail; she had recited it herself for a while shortly before her fourteenth birthday, the night she had become an Animagus. Thinking about it, she had also spent a month not talking as part of the ritual, having held a mandrake leaf under her tongue for an entire lunar cycle.

There was another great rumble of thunder, and Artemis bit her lip, hard. The final stage of the Animagus ritual had to take place during a storm. If her suspicions were correct - and she was certain that they were - Merula would be attempting to complete the spell as soon as the storm reached the grounds. 

The second Professor Kettleburn dismissed the class, Artemis set off at a run. She had to find Merula, and quickly. The Animagus spell was complicated, she knew that from her own experience, and if it went wrong, the effects could be catastrophic. Artemis had only been able to do it with the combined help of Rowan, Penny, and Talbott, and as far as she knew, Merula was doing it alone. 

Once she was sure she was out of sight of her peers, she transformed into a cat and ran through the wet grass across the grounds. When she had completed the final part of the Animagus spell, she had done so on the Quidditch pitch, a good open space that was out of sight from the castle or Hagrid’s hut. It seemed a sensible place to look for Merula, and surely enough, when she got there, she could see her standing in the centre of the pitch.

“Merula!” Artemis called out, girl-formed once more, and Merula turned around to scowl at her.

“What do you want, Hexley?”

“Are you trying to become an Animagus?”

Merula’s scathing look became one of surprise, then one of mistrust.

“How…” she crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at Artemis. In one of her hands was a small potion vial that might have been made of crystal. “What’s it to you?”

“You know how dangerous that is, right?”

“Only if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Do you know what you’re doing, though?” asked Artemis, and Merula rolled her eyes. “I mean it, Merula. You’re messing around with really difficult and-”

“Sod off, Hexley. Stop interfering in things you don’t understand.”

“Actually, Merula, I do understand.”

Merula scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah,” said Artemis, and she sighed deeply before transforming into a cat and back again. Merula’s jaw dropped open. “Right.”

“Okay, so you’re a hypocrite,” Merula told her, quickly regaining her composure. “You don’t care about me. You just want to be the only person at Hogwarts who can change into an animal.”

“I’m not…” Artemis shook her head, stopping before she let Talbott’s secret slip. “I just wanted to make sure that you have help.”

“I don’t need help.”

“I needed help.”

“Well, I’m not you,” snapped Merula. “Just go away, Hexley.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to help you whether you want me to or not.”

The two girls glared at each other stubbornly for a few moments, until a roll of thunder - louder and closer than any of the ones preceding it - made Merula give in.

“Ugh, fine. Just don’t get in my way,” she said. “And don’t say anything. You’ll only annoy me.”

In response, Artemis pressed her forefinger to her lips. Above them, ominous dark clouds had gathered, and the rain was falling so heavily that Artemis wasn’t sure that Merula would hear her even if she were to say something. There was a flash of lightning, and the potion in Merula’s hand turned red. Merula looked from the potion to the sky, and then at Artemis, who nodded grimly.

“Bottoms up,” Merula shouted over the sound of the thunder. She pulled the stopper off the potion vial and brought it to her lips, drinking until the liquid was drained. She pointed her wand to the centre of her torso.

“Wait,” said Artemis, already breaking her silence. “You have to point at your heart.”

Merula frowned, but moved her wand upwards and to her left, before reciting the incantation: “Amato Animo Animato Animagus!” She paused, and seemed to battle with herself before turning to Artemis and asking, “Now what?”

“Now you transform,” Artemis told her. “You should have an idea of the animal you’ll become, like you can see it behind your eyes. Imagine yourself transforming, and then do it.”

As Merula closed her eyes, Artemis crossed her fingers, already wondering what - if any - animal Merula would turn into. If she were to guess, she would have said that Merula might be a wildcat, or a crow, or a skunk; something untamed and savage. More than anything, she hoped that Merula had managed to complete the entire ritual correctly, and would not end up permanently misfigured. 

Artemis closed her eyes as well, barely able to watch, and when she opened them, Merula was gone. She looked down at the ground where Merula’s feet had been to see something small, spherical, and completely covered in thick brown fur.

“A Puffskein!” Relieved and amused, Artemis laughed out loud. Puffskein-Merula looked up at her, and she laughed harder as she realised that even in Puffskein form, Merula had retained her orange fringe, violet eyes, and grumpy expression. “Sorry, I just… You’re a Puffskein!”

Puffskein-Merula made a high-pitched angry chirrup that only served to make Artemis double over with laughter. When she managed to stop and get her breath back, Artemis could see that Merula looked even grumpier than ever.

“Honestly, Merula, I’m just relieved that you managed to do it without hurting yourself,” said Artemis, biting her lip to stop herself from giggling again. “Right. Turn back so we can go back to the castle and out of the rain.” 

Merula chirruped again, remaining in her Puffskein form.

“Oh, come on. It’s cold and I’m soaked through,” Artemis rolled her eyes, and Puffskein-Merula screwed her own shut. She still did not change back. Artemis’ eyes widened in horror. “You can change back, right?”

Puffskein-Merula screwed up her Puffskein face again and again, clearly trying her hardest to transform back into a human, to no avail. There was no doubt about it: Merula was stuck as a Puffskein.

“Merula, I think we need to get you some help. Look, I’m really, really sorry about this, but…”

Grimacing, Artemis bent down and picked up Puffskein-Merula, tucking her under her cloak and ignoring her loud and indignant chirrups as she carried her back to the castle.

Artemis’ first thought had been to take Merula to Professor McGonagall; as the Transfiguration teacher and an Animagus herself, she was bound to know how to return Merula to her human form. However, even as a Puffskein, Merula was able to make her opinions on this matter clear. After Artemis had gained a set of Puffskein-sized tooth marks on her lower arm, she decided that maybe Merula was right, and it would be better to try and solve the problem without any help from the school staff.

Unfortunately, neither the general counter spell nor the detransfiguration spell McGonagall had taught Artemis in her second year served to help Merula at all. She tried taking Merula to the library to see if she could find anything in the books Rowan had used to research the Animagus spell in their third year, but was thrown out by Madam Pince the librarian after Merula attempted to do her own research, using her mouth and hairy body to turn the pages of the large, leather-bound tomes.

“I will not tolerate pets being allowed to handle books, Miss Hexley!” Madam Pince said, glaring at Puffskein-Merula. “Look at this. There are toothmarks on the page!”

“You should see my arm,” muttered Artemis, but she did as Madam Pince told her. She scooped Merula up and carried her out of the library and down to the Hufflepuff Common Room. “Chiara did her work experience in the spell damage ward at St Mungo’s,” she whispered. “She might know what to do.”

Merula exhaled loudly, but did not try to bite. Artemis took that as a sign that she was happy with this plan. She found Chiara revising Herbology with Penny and Tonks in the corner of the Common Room, and plonked Merula down on the table in front of them. 

“You know how you thought that the thief was hoping to become an Animagus?” she asked Penny, who nodded. “Well, we were right. The thing is, now Merula is stuck like this.”

“Wait, Merula was the thief?” Penny asked, her blue eyes wide.

“She was. Now she’s just a Puffskein,” said Artemis, and Merula let out a series of grumbling chirps that made the others start to giggle. Merula narrowed her round eyes at them, and Artemis rolled her own. “I don’t know what you’re so annoyed about, Merula. It’s not our fault that you look ridiculous. Chiara, any ideas on how to get her back the way she was?”

Before Chiara could respond, the girls were interrupted by the arrival of Bea Haywood, who rushed over to the girls with one of her friends, both of them barely able to conceal their excitement.

“Is that your Puffskein, Artemis? Can we play with it?”

Artemis shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

Bea and her friend went to pick up Puffskein-Merula, who puffed up her fur, bared her teeth, and growled at them. The two younger girls squealed with delight.

“Oh, my goodness!” said Bea’s friend, both her hands placed to her cheeks. “It’s so cute!”

“You know, they have a point,” whispered Tonks, as Bea carried a squirming and chirruping Merula away. “Do we haveto put her back the way she was?” 

“Ethically, yes,” said Chiara, though she looked tempted.

“Shame. Guess I’ll just have to find something else to use for Beater practice.”

“Do you know how to change her back?” Artemis asked Chiara, who shook her head.

“No, human-animal transfiguration is far too complicated for me to reverse. You should probably take her Professor McGonagall or Madam Pomfrey.”

“I did try that, but she wasn’t too keen on the idea.”

“I’m not surprised,” Penny huffed. “Really, she could get into an awful lot of trouble for this. Not just the spell, but the stealing, too. I wonder why she’s been doing it.”

“We’ll never know if we don’t get her back in a shape where she can tell us,” sighed Artemis. “I guess I’ll just have to persuade her that McGonagall is the best option. In case she won’t listen, can I borrow a pair of Herbology gloves from one of you? I didn’t realise such tiny teeth would hurt so much.”

Eventually, Artemis was able to prise Merula away from the third year girls, and between the threat of being stuck as a child’s pet forever and the promise that Artemis would take the blame for her transformation, Merula was far more amenable to being taken to Professor McGonagall. The Transfiguration teacher was not best pleased with the situation, nor with Artemis’ explanation that Merula’s state was the result of a duel gone wrong. After a lecture about school rules and ‘knowing better by now’, Merula was sent to the Hospital Wing and Artemis back to the common room, both Hufflepuff and Slytherin having lost twenty house points each.

Merula was still in the Hospital Wing a week later, much to her disgust. Artemis had been curious to know how her detransfiguration was going, but so far, Merula had declined visitors. 

“She’s finally stopped chirping,” Chiara told her friends over dinner after having spent the evening volunteering in the Hospital Wing. “But her eyes are still round and her forehead is a bit hairy. Madam Pomfrey is hopeful that she will be out in time for the Halloween feast on Wednesday, though.”

“Well, that is good,” said Penny. “I’d hate to think of anyone missing their last Halloween feast.”

She aimed her last sentence at Artemis, who pursed her lips tightly. So far, she had managed to miss the majority of every single annual Halloween feast during her time at Hogwarts. It wasn’t her fault - each year something had happened to prevent her attending - but in Penny’s eyes, missing an event like Halloween was close to sacrilege. Still, being her last year, Artemis was fully intending to not miss the feast this time.

“I’m guessing that no one has been able to ask Merula about the stolen stuff if she’s only just stopped chirping?” Tonks asked, and Chiara shook her head. Penny frowned.

“Artemis, you did tell Corey about Merula being the thief, didn’t you?” she said, sighing heavily when Artemis shook her head. “Well, you really had ought to tell someone. You know, that necklace was given to Talbott by his mum before she died. It has a feather on it from her Animagus form.”

“I know, it’s just… Well, why would Merula steal that?” Artemis wrinkled her nose. “I know she took Snape’s potions ingredients and broke into the greenhouse, but we haven’t got any proof that she took anything else. I’d rather speak to her about it myself before I get Corey involved. He’ll only stick his nose in where it’s not wanted and take over.”

“I suppose so. It could be that there are two thieves, after all. Talbott did say that Tulip was telling Badeea that she saw someone trying to poke around the Whomping Willow the other day.”

“What? But that’s mad!”

“I’m just telling you what Talbott said Tulip said,” Penny said. “Apparently it looked like they were leaving something under the roots, or picking something up from under the roots. You never know, it might have been the thief hiding their loot.”

Artemis couldn’t imagine that anyone, thief or not, would risk hiding anything under the vicious tree, but she nodded anyway. It was something else to bring up with Merula once she was free from the Hospital Wing. Until then, she had plenty of other more exciting things to think about, like Quidditch practice and Halloween. 

But by the day of the feast, Artemis had stopped feeling excited at all. She woke up on Wednesday morning feeling strangely apathetic, with a small niggling doubt that grew as the day went on, despite her being unsure what she was doubtful of. It was only as she walked into the Great Hall and saw Penny, Tonks, and Chiara sitting at the pumpkin-decked Hufflepuff table beneath the bat-ridden ceiling that she realised exactly what was bothering her: something - or rather, someone - was missing.

Suddenly, Artemis didn’t fancy going to the Halloween feast at all. Thankfully, her friends hadn’t seen her yet, so she slipped away before they could beckon her over to sit with her, and left to sit in the quad, looking at the stars and listening to the sounds of the other students in the Great Hall from outside its walls. 

A set of footsteps broke her peace and quiet, and she looked up to see that someone else was walking away from the feast. She squinted to see who it was in the darkness, and though she couldn’t make out their facial features, she recognised the leather jacket they wore over their robes.

“Victor?”

“What are you doing out here?” asked Victor Ketsueki, stuffing his hands into his pockets and he walked towards her. “Don’t you have a feast to go to?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Artemis told him, and he laughed sharply.

“Yeah, I don’t really see the point. Like, pumpkins and skeletons are cool when you’re eleven, but we are adults now,” he said, shaking his head so that his hair fell away from his face. “There are better things I can do with my spare time.” He cocked an eyebrow at Artemis and leaned towards her as he added, “Talking to you isn’t one of them. Sorry, Hexley.”

He skulked away, leaving Artemis to glower at the back of his head.

“Where are you going?” she called after him, and he laughed again.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Artemis, thoroughly annoyed now, crossed her arms and scowled. What did everybody see in Victor Ketsueki? He wasn’t mysterious, he was just arrogant. Were all vampires like that? And what was he up to, sneaking around when everyone else was at the Halloween feast? A suspicion re-entered Artemis’ mind; perhaps Victor really was the thief. She didn’t care what Penny said about it not making sense, it made sense to her. No doubt he was off to steal things right now.

Artemis’ mind was made up. She was going to follow him and catch him in the act. She went back inside the castle, where she could hear footsteps echoing down the corridor, and she followed the noise, her lit wand in her hand. She must have been gaining on him, because the footsteps were getting louder. Speeding up, she turned the corner and-

“OW!”

Artemis stepped backwards, rubbing her forehead where she had crashed into the person who had been walking around the corner. Apparently, the footsteps had been getting louder because their owner had been walking towards her. 

“Sorry,” she said, looking up at the person she had crashed into. The other person glared back at her with narrowed violet eyes.

“Watch where you’re going, Hexley,” said Merula, rubbing her nose. “You nearly broke my face.”

“Like I said, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“Who?”

“Victor Ketsueki. I was trying to follow him.”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls now,” Merula said, rolling her eyes. “And I thought I couldn’t possibly have any less respect for you…”

“It’s not like that,” Artemis shook her head. “I think he might be the person who’s been stealing all the stuff from the dormitories.”

“Ketsueki? Nah.”

“Why not? He’s been acting strangely ever since he came back from the summer,” said Artemis, but Merula looked unconvinced. “I think it’s more likely to be him than you.”

“Me?” Merula looked almost offended. “Why would I be nicking stuff from people’s dormitories?”

“I dunno. You nicked stuff from Snape’s store.”

“Only the stuff for the Animagus potion.”

“Penny thought that maybe whoever was making the potion was trying to to become an Animagus so they could steal things more easily.”

“That’s because Haywood is a moron.”

“She isn’t,” Artemis’ nostrils flared. “Okay, then. Why were you trying to become an Animagus? There must have been some reason.”

Merula pursed her lips before answering. “I just wanted to see if I could.”

“You what?”

“It’s one of the most complicated spells there is. I wanted to prove that I was powerful enough to do it.”

“Well, that worked out just great, didn’t it?”

“Shut up, Hexley. I almost got it completely right.”

“Almost,” Artemis raised her eyebrows at Merula before peering up and down the corridor. “I wonder where he’s gone. Maybe to the Whomping Willow.”

“What?” asked Merula, her eyebrows knitting together.

“Apparently someone has been hanging around the Whomping Willow. They think it’s the thief.”

“Why would they think that?”

“Because they were hiding things under the roots. Like maybe stolen stuff,” Artemis shrugged. “But don’t you see? That’s why it makes sense for it to be Victor Ketsueki. Most people would be scared of getting whomped, but if he’s a vampire, he’s hardly going to care about a tree, is he?”

“I guess not,” Merula said, looking deep in thought. “I thought he’d made up the whole vampire thing, but maybe you’re right for once, Hexley. It might be him.”

“I’m sure it is. Do you want to help me find him?”

“He could be anywhere now, and it’s the Halloween feast,” replied Merula, hesitantly. “Shouldn’t you be there, too?”

“Oh,” Artemis averted her eyes. “I dunno. I’m not sure I want to go, really.”

“Why not?”

“Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“Either it’s stupid enough that you don’t need to worry about it and you should just go, or it’s not stupid and… Well, maybe you might want to… I dunno… talk about it?”

Artemis tilted her head. “With you?”

“Maybe. I guess. Yeah.”

Merula huffed, but her face was sincere and not mocking. Artemis sighed.

“Fine,” she said. “It’s just that every year I’ve missed the feast, and the one year I’ve been able to enjoy it, I can’t because Rowan’s not here to enjoy it with me. I went to go and I suddenly felt really guilty, like I should have gone before and been there with her, and now it’s too late for that and…”

“You’d rather not go at all than go without her,” Merula finished Artemis’ sentence for her. Artemis nodded, and Merula frowned. “Why not? I mean, if Khanna liked the Halloween feast so much, she’d hardly want you to sit out here and mope about instead of going, would she? And anyway, it’s not like you’ll have another chance to go. It’s our last one. You say you regret not going before because it’s too late, you know that next year you’ll regret not going this year either, and it’ll really be too late.”

“I suppose.”

“Ugh, I hate that you’re making me do this,” muttered Merula. “Hexley, if you don’t go, then I won’t go.”

“Do you not want to go?” Artemis asked her.

“Obviously I want to go. I love the Halloween feast. It’s the best night of the year, I can’t believe you’ve been missing out all this time.”

“But-”

“But you stayed with me in the rain to make sure I didn’t get horrifically misfigured, and you took the blame for me turning into a Puffskein, so… I owe you one. If you’re not going, I’m not going.”

Merula’s face was stubborn, but Artemis was sure that she could see a faint glimmer of triumph in her violet eyes. Artemis sighed.

“Well then, it looks like I don’t have much choice but to go, do I?” she said, and together,  the two girls walked back through the darkened castle towards the Great Hall, where the Halloween Feast was just about to begin.

[in-the-shadow-of-the-blog]

No Shadow Without Light - Ch1

Chapter One: The Hogwarts Express

Summary: As sixth year begins, the Hero of Hogwarts finds herself returning to the school. Her struggle to navigate her complex relationship with Sebastian Sallow is further complicated by her new Quidditch Captain, and her efforts to cure a friend’s curse fuel a new threat to ancient magic.

(Sebastian Sallow x Hufflepuff OC)

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: None

A/N: The first of a multi-chapter fic starring my MC. Featuring angsty, jealous Sebastian, curing Anne, and Quidditch! This first chapter is a little light but they get better, I promise.

They sat in silence for a moment. Poppy had dozed off with her head resting against the window, and Honoria had become mesmerized watching the scenery pass by as the train chugged along. She was quite content to sit there with two of her closest friends, Sebastian’s thumb idly tracing over the back of her hand.

“There’s something you should know,” Sebastian said softly. She turned away from the window and looked at him, waiting. “About Rookwood.”

Despite the fact that she was beginning her term as a sixth-year at Hogwarts, this was Honoria Dashwood’s first experience with platform 9 3/4. Walking through the wall didn’t bother her; she was hardly surprised by such things now. But she was not used to passing between the muggle and wizarding worlds so seamlessly.

As soon as she passed through to the platform and found herself surrounded by fellow witches and wizards, Honoria felt at ease despite the chaos. Students clamored to board the scarlet Hogwarts Express, a cacophony of parents sending off their children rang in her ears, yet she couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t even aboard the train, and she already felt more free to be herself. The muggle life simply was not for her, she knew that.

Now she just had to navigate getting onto the train and finding a seat among the crowd of people.

“Honoria!”

She had barely turned around when Poppy Sweeting collided with her, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Poppy!” Honoria laughed, returning the hug. “I missed you, too!”

“I saw an empty compartment. Maybe we can grab it before someone else does.”

Without waiting for an answer, Poppy grabbed her hand and took off, leading her onto the train. All the apprehension Honoria had about her first ride on the Hogwarts Express was suddenly gone.

They reached the empty compartment just before a couple of rude-looking Ravenclaw girls could get to the door. The Ravenclaws shot them dirty looks as Poppy and Honoria collapsed into seats across from each other. “What did you do over the summer?” They asked in unison, then laughed.

Poppy had spent the summer taking care of magical beasts with her gran. Honoria spent hers navigating the social graces of Victorian London with her parents. “When you’re in the muggle world, you’ll be a muggle,” her mother had said. They both agreed Poppy had the better time.

“How long is the journey to Hogwarts by train?” Honoria asked.

“Oh, that’s right! Your first time. It will be dark when we get there, so you might as well get comfortable.”

They had just settled in with books, comparing their reading tastes, when a noise outside the compartment got their attention. The compartment door slid open, and Honoria and Poppy looked up to find two Slytherin boys standing there. Poppy found her voice first. “Hello Sebastian, Ominis.”

“Have a good summer?” Sebastian asked cheerfully.

Honoria wasn’t sure where things stood with her and Sebastian Sallow. They had spent the last year at Hogwarts flirting, bonding over their trials. They had even kissed once. And then the catacomb… They had parted as friends at the end of term, kept in touch by owl over the summer, but where exactly did that leave them now?

He leaned in the compartment doorway, giving her that same smile he gave her when she walked into her first herbology class. Honoria was pretty sure she knew what she wanted from her friendship with Sebastian; but did he feel the same?

The two boys took seats opposite each other, Sebastian claiming the seat beside Honoria. Tension remained between Sebastian and Ominis over the former’s misguided adventures last year. Honoria could sense it bubbling just beneath the surface as they sat down. But there is something about old, close friendships that gives them the strength to endure no matter what transpires, and it was that kind of kinship the two Slytherins shared. They didn’t share much about their summer in front of Poppy, but she had become absorbed in her book and wasn’t much attention, anyway.

Ominis stood from his seat. “I’m going to see if I can track down Imelda, she said she wanted to speak to me about something.”

Sebastian reached over and took Honoria’s hand in his. He was tentative and determined at the same time; like he knew what he wanted and wouldn’t hesitate to go after it while still being afraid of the outcome. When she met his raised eyebrow with a shy smile, Sebastian relaxed. He seemed to be working up to something, and Honoria decided she would let him take all the time he needed.

They sat in silence for a moment. Poppy had dozed off with her head resting against the window, and Honoria had become mesmerized watching the scenery pass by as the train chugged along. She was quite content to sit there with two of her closest friends, Sebastian’s thumb idly tracing over the back of her hand.

“There’s something you should know,” Sebastian said softly. She turned away from the window and looked at him, waiting. “About Rookwood.”

Honoria’s hand tensed at the name

The man who had abducted her.

The man who had tried to kill her.

The man she had killed in defense of her own life.

She swallowed, struggling to keep her voice even. “What about him?”

“Seems he has a nephew. Riordan Rookwood. And he’s interested in moving into the family home.”

“But Rookwood Castle is a ruin.”

Sebastian shook his head. “Not for much longer. They’ve been making repairs all summer.”

Honoria worried her bottom lip. Numbness spread through her limbs at the thought of another Rookwood stirring up trouble. Only the comforting warmth of Sebastian’s hand on hers kept her grounded. “Do you think he knows about what was kept there?”

A shrug of his shoulder. “I don’t know. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he knows a lot of things he shouldn’t.”

Worry settled in the pit of Honoria’s stomach, cold and heavy. Did he know about the ancient magic? Or her ability to wield it? Why come back to the ancestral home now? It was too many unanswered questions for her liking.

Sebastian squeezed her hand. “Don’t look so worried. It’s nothing we can’t handle, right?”

Honoria forced a smile. “Right.”

Poppy yawned, blinking her way out of her nap. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed up so late helping Gran but I wanted to make sure everything was in order before I left.” She noticed their pensive faces. “What are you two talking about?”

“Just wondering if potions will be any easier this year,” Honoria lied.

Poppy nodded slowly, clearly unconvinced. Her gaze slid to Honoria and Sebastian’s hands, still clasped on the seat beside them, but said nothing. The two of them awkwardly pulled away, untangling their fingers.

“Anything from the trolley?” A cheerful voice called, sliding open the door once again.

Honoria’s eyes lit up when she saw the trolley. She had been dreaming of all the treats that she couldn’t enjoy in the muggle world.

Sebastian laughed at her reaction and stood. “I had better go and find Ominis. See you two later, all right?”

Honoria and Poppy amassed a smile pile of treats that they shared over gossip and worries about school for the rest of the journey. The train pulled into Hogsmeade Station before she knew it, and Honoria readied herself for a new year at Hogwarts.

—

Between the sorting ceremony and the feast, Professor Black stepped forward to his owl podium for announcements. Honoria looked on warily, wondering whether if his words would be as unwelcome as last year. Assuming, of course, that he spoke with clarity instead of rambling. She had no idea they would be in for such a pleasant surprise.

“In light of the views on last year’s cancellation, and after much deliberation, this year’s Quidditch season will proceed normally.”

A cheer erupted throughout the hall, and Professor Black raised his hand for silence.

“Additionally, Hogwarts will be hosting a Harvest Ball at Halloween this year. Look for announcements from your Heads of House with more information.”

A hum of conversation swept through the great hall as the feast appeared on the tables. “A ball!” Poppy exclaimed. “I can’t believe it.”

“Are balls not common at Hogwarts?” Honoria asked.

“Pretty rare, actually,” said Lenora Everleigh. “I’m not sure I even know how to dance at a proper ball.”

“It’s not too hard to learn,” Honoria told her.

Poppy looked over with wide eyes. “Honoria, do you have experience with parties like that?”

Honoria shrugged one shoulder, feeling her neck flush with embarrassment. “Well, my muggle family is a bit… well-to-do. Balls are quite a popular past time for them.” She cleared her throat. “But there’s no telling what Black has planned. It might be nothing like a muggle ball.”

Her words had the desired effect. The conversation quickly turned to everyone’s theories on what the ball would be like, what they might wear, and what possessed Professor Black to allow such a thing in the first place. Honoria glanced over at the Slytherin table and caught Sebastian’s gaze for a moment. Lost in thought about her dueling partner, she didn’t register another pair of eyes boring into her from her own table.

—

Chapter Two

[witchysethharper]

Fall From Grace || Self-Para

Seth's hunted by hellhounds and has his soul sent to hell.

Trigger Warnings: death

Seth made a lot of mistakes tonight. His first one being that he didn't plan well and absolutely had to get dog food for Circe this evening so she had breakfast tomorrow morning. That was absolutely his bad procrastinating on it and convincing himself he had enough for the week until he looked in the near empty bag. Tonight also happened to be early on in heat week and nearing a full moon. Whatever, right? He'd drive down to Krovs Town, get the food, and then drive back up. Town ought to be quiet this evening with many of the residents tucked in and entertaining themselves with a partner in heat. What could possibly go wrong?

The menacing growl that reached his ears sent a chill up his spine. He froze in place, grip tightening on the opened door of his trunk where he'd just packed up Circe's food. What little noise on Market Square faded away underneath Seth's heart thundering in his ears.

He didn't think about the hellhounds. Or that today –– right fucking now –– his time would be up.

It wasn't like Seth hadn't been seeing these hell beasts day and night for the last month or so but this... this felt different. The chime of the town clock striking the nighttime hour cut through the moment of silence with an ominous, booming chime augmenting the cold dread settling in his bones.

He slowly and carefully shut the trunk of his car before turning around. The few random pedestrians and drivers running some last minute errands didn't see what Seth did –– three massive, monstrous black dogs with glowing red eyes and dripping maws right there in the middle of the street. Each of them haunched and prowling towards the young witch that was their prey. No one else heard the low snarling of the hungry beasts that didn't disappear after Seth shut his eyes and opened them again. They wouldn't until they finished their hunt.

Seth did the first thing he could think of once he momentarily regained control of himself –– he bolted. Charged down the sidewalk passed confused citizens that went about their evening once he was out of sight. He thought he'd come to terms with this, mentally prepared for this moment to inevitably happen no matter whether he ran or stayed still, and yet he kept running as fast as he could down the barely lit street. It didn't matter how fast he was, the hounds were faster, and one managed to clip him across the back with claws. Seth needed distance –– just enough so he could make a phone call –– so he teleported himself as far down Oymyakon Street as he could and slowed to a power walk while he pulled out his phone and dialed the very first person he could think of.

"C'mon, pick up, pickup, pickup," he muttered, frosty mist leaving his mouth as the phone continued ringing what felt like endlessly. A little spark of hope fluttered in his chest hearing Shade's voice before realizing it was just the cambion's voice mail message. Truthfully Seth didn't know if this was better or worse, wanting to actually talk to Shade one last time but also not wanting this to be their last conversation. He didn't plan on this happening now so he was unprepared once the beep signaled him to start his last words to his best friend.

"Uh... fuck. Okay. Hey. Hi. Hey, Dempsey, hey. It's Seth, um..." He slowed down his pace a bit so he could talk more than breathe heavily into the phone. Silence. The hounds hadn't caught up to him yet but he knew they would. He maybe had a few minutes. "Fuck, it's fucking cold out. Anyway, uh, I'm not sure what you're, like, doing right now or whatever but I wanted to let you know... that... it's, uh... time. Got the hellhounds on my ass and motherfucking..." He clenched his fist and grimaced as he remembered why he'd come out here in the first place. "Fuck, sorry, I, uh, I left my car in Market Square outside the pet store. Had to get Circe food so she doesn't starve. It's in my trunk if you could somehow get that up to her tonight or tomorrow morning, please." He turned into an empty alleyway, knowing that he couldn't outrun this moment. Eventually those hounds would track him down and tear him apart and it'd more than likely be painful as fuck.

"But, um, that's not why I was calling. I just... I wanted to hear... your voice one last time, and..." He choked on the words now as his eyes and throat burned as he reached the brick wall end, hearing those dogs howling not too far away from where they'd picked up Seth's scent again. "I wanted to say thank you for... everything. For helping me with car shit and cooking and making me laugh and putting up with me in general for all these years. And for trying to help save my soul in the first place. I'm just... really fucking glad to have met you and had you in my life, everything good and bad and in between with us. And..." Seth looked up now, seeing the hounds approaching him through the blur of brimming tears that threatened to spill. He rushed his ending, not at all wanting the last thing on Shade's inbox to feature the sounds of him getting mauled. "Fuck. Okay. Gotta go. Take care of yourself, a'ight? L-Love you."

His hand shook as he hung up and this time the beasts didn't leave him any time to process his fate. He was cornered and they struck one by one, the first one lunging at Seth so hard he bounced back against the brick wall before hitting the ground. His glasses knocked off his face and fell beside him, one of the lenses cracked from the impact. Claws and teeth tore into him, breaking through his winter layers and muscle and bone. Blood sprayed over the bricks and concrete and Seth cried out, falling still on the cold ground pooled in his blood. Darkness swarmed his vision as he drew his last breaths.

Then everything went silent before the roar of hellfire enveloped him.

[summersnow82]

The Scent of Roses - Part 6

Fanfiction_X-Men

Fictober 2023_Prompt 27: “I don’t know if they will accept this.”

......

Dr. Hank McCoy knew the halls of the White House well, but he still followed protocol allowing his escort to lead the way. She wore her blonde hair in a French twist, the same way Sabrina often did, and he couldn’t help the pang of guilt and regret he felt from their last encounter. If he hadn’t taken her to the dinner and just controlled himself she never would’ve seen that part of him he tried to hide from everyone else. Hank had a lot of attributes he was proud of, but like most mutants he also dealt with immense shame. He couldn’t help but miss his human form, and a day didn’t go by when he hated himself for screwing it up with an impetuous experiment. Interestingly enough, those closest to him were never phased by his furry blue form; to them he was just Hank.

Trish hadn’t seemed to mind at first, either. He was a mutant of prestige – well read, well spoken, well….gifted in other areas, as well. Behind closed doors she’d seemed thrilled by his more…beast-like qualities. In public, she enjoyed the spotlight.

Until that spotlight got uncomfortable, that is.

Hank frowned. Perhaps he’d misread Trish. His intuition was normally spot on, but even he could be distracted by a pretty face.

His escort opened the door to the Oval Office, Hank thanked her, and stepped inside the prestigious room. “Hank.” The President greeted him warmly, crossing the room to shake his hand. “I’m so glad you could make it. We have much to discuss.”

“I couldn’t agree more, sir.” Hank followed him over to one of the plush couches and sat down.

The President’s face was creased with worry as he shifted to face Hank. “I owe you an apology, Hank. You were not supposed to be blindsided with this news.”

Hank leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Why was I, sir?”

“We all were. Warren Worthington II has been working on a cure for his son for decades now, but it’s been kept under wraps. We were recently made aware of this, and the lengths he was going to procure an antidote for his son’s mutation.” Hank frowned at the term, but remained silent. “His methods, from what we can gather, are not on the up and up. His stunt with the press was an effort to buy him time and favor with the public so we would be reluctant to interfere.”

“Are you going to interfere, sir?”

The President sighed deeply. “My hands are tied here, Hank. The human population is thrilled at this news, and from what we’ve seen, so are a good number of mutants, as well. If we go after Worthington it will look like we’re trying to divide instead of unite.”

“But if his methods are questionable - ,” Hank began.

“That’s where you come in. I want you to go out there with a team. Look into Worthington and the process. Your diplomacy is vital right now, Hank.”

Hank folded his hands together, taking all this information in. “Sir, I must tell you the mutant population is afraid this cure will be turned into a weapon. That those who don’t choose it will ultimately be forced to take it. I don’t know if they will accept this.”

The President nodded, lowering his eyes. “I know. I’ve heard similar theories, too. Been approached about it, as well.” He lifted his gaze to Hank. “I’ll be meeting with the press later this afternoon to address this issue. I will be announcing your role in this, and would like you present, as well.”

Hank nodded. “Of course, sir.”

……..

The mansion was quiet when Hank arrived that evening. Most, if not all of the students should’ve been asleep, and his friends and comrades would be moving in that direction. He found Logan at the kitchen table sipping a beer, and without thinking Hank opened the fridge, grabbed one as well, and sat down across from the shorter man.

“Saw you on TV today.”

“Hmmm,” Hank replied, exhausted.

“You buy that story?”

Hank’s mouth quirked in the corner, a hint of a smile as he focused on removing the beer bottle wrapper. “Haven’t decided yet. You?”

“Nope.” Logan took another swig. “Professor’s up if you want to see him. In the library.”

Hank sighed, and shook his head. “Not just yet.” The silence between the two men grew, but it was a comfortable silence. Hank appreciated Logan’s no nonsense attitude, and Logan appreciated Hank’s insight.

...most of the time.

“Sabrina’s in med bay, if you wanted to see her, too,” Logan said pointedly.

Hank’s head jerked up, eyes wide. “What? Why?” He was on his feet in an instant, his chair clambering to the ground.

Logan chuckled. “Calm down. She’s fine now.”

Hank clutched the end of the table, glaring at the younger man. “What. Happened?”

“You should ask her yourself.” Scott’s voice came from the doorway, and he raked a hand through his chestnut hair. He was dressed for bed in a pair of gray sweats and a simple white t-shirt. He took note of the beers in his comrade’s hands and grabbed one for himself out of the fridge. “Apparently you influenced her decision.”

Hank ground his teeth, suppressing a growl. “I consider myself a patient man, but I assure you both I will lose my temper if someone doesn’t tell me what happened this instant.”

“She touched Rogue,” Scott said. “On purpose for an extended period of time. She wanted her to know – really know – how she felt about her before she went for the cure.”

Hank sunk back into his chair. “Is she all right?”

“She’s fine now,” Scott said, joining them at the table. “Jean’s just keeping her down there for observation now.” Hank raked his fingers through his hair. This was his fault. Him and his damn self-loathing.

“What’s the deal with you two, anyway?” Logan asked, pushing away from the table and eyeing the blue Beast curiously.

Hank threw a glare in Logan’s direction. “I told you. We’re old friends.”

Logan cocked his head to the side, grinning as he lifted his bottle. “I don’t kiss my old friends like that.”

Scott chuckled. “I heard about that. You two finally getting together?”

Hank frowned. “What do you mean finally?”

Scott leaned back in his chair, observing the older man with mild amusement. “You serious? She’s only been in love with you since she came here. Everyone knows that.”

Hank’s brow furrowed. “She had a childhood crush on me, but that’s all it was.” The two men looked at him with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment.

“You really don’t know?” Logan asked.

“And I thought you were dense,” Scott said, shaking his head and ignoring the crude gesture Logan shot him. “How could you not know, Hank? The blushing, laughing at all your jokes - .”

“I tell very good jokes, thank you.”

“Not that good,” Logan said.

“It’s in her eyes,” Scott continued. “The way she brushes her hair back when she gets nervous.”

“You sure you’re not the one in love?” Logan asked, smirking.

“Jean and I talk,” Scott said pointedly. “Besides,” he said, turning back to Hank. “I’ve known Sabrina as long as you have.”

“Do you have any idea how long it takes a woman to get ready for a black tie event? She did all that for you in a fraction of the time,” Logan pointed out.

“We’re friends,” Hank said, and the words sounded weak in his own ears. Had he really not seen it? All these years, all that time spent together – how had he not noticed? After Raven’s death he’d struggled – there was no denying that – and now that he thought about it he’d not maintained a single, long-term, healthy, romantic relationship since.

Raven’s death had shattered him. He never wanted to relive that again, so instead he’d burying himself in his work, in the school, in his career, in the X-Men.

...and yet Sabrina had always been there. Even when they were away from the mansion there were letters or e-mails checking in, touching base. Sometimes it was just a quote she knew he’d enjoy or a quick hi and hello, but now that he thought about it she’d been a constant in his life no matter where he was. And every time he saw her name on the return address or her e-mail in his folder his day would improve.

Could she still really be in love with him? Real love? And was that something he wanted to pursue if it was true? Hank stood from the table. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I have a friend I need to check on.”

[whumperstorm]

Keegan's new Power

Written for @whumptober #8: Outnumbered

Content: violence, sword-fighting, child in danger (no actual harm), magic

Keegan sliced through the stomach of another beast. Though, not that these things had anything resembling actual functioning anatomy. They burst up from the soil surrounding the little desert town, built of sediment and sand and held together by the roots of cacti.

"Earth's white blood cells". Vivian had called them, since apparently she knows everything. They were originally triggered by the UNAOC's core drilling project and meant to defend her from internal damage. But now they were attacking anything and everything that harmed the earth's natural systems. Kind of like an allergic reaction to humanity itself.

They behaved like golems. The wound caused by Keegan's blade quickly closed, filling back up with more sand and root. But the wound had given her a quick view of the creature's life source, a glowing green stone in its center. That was what she was really after. She parried a swipe with one blade and with a forceful jab, sent her other straight through its chest.

The stone was impaled and thrust out the back of it's body. Without it, the beast crumbled to dust on the ground. Another one down.

There were plenty more though. Too many.

The town was a prime target for them. It sat right next to an oil rig, which was already half-destroyed by the relentless monsters. They didn't know the different between a factory and a harmless residence and had quickly swarmed the streets, attacking anything and everything that held the scent of human.

It felt like that battle would go on forever. She was exhausted already from fighting under the hot, dry desert sun. But the town didn't have much in terms of defenses. Only a single local fire deportment and a tiny law enforcement office. It was up to Keegan and her elemental sisters to stop them.

She jumped on the next closest one, which was ramming itself against a car filled with terrified pedestrians. The door buckled under its attack and another swipe had the window splintering. Keegan kicked it away and began hacking away once more.

A scream.

Keegan's head whipped around to see yet another creature dragging itself towards a cornered young boy. She tried to break away. Just for a moment, but the second her weight left the monster beneath her, it was reaching for the cracked car window. She rammed it back down, slicing wildly in hopes of finishing it off quickly.

No dice.

The others were too far away, busy with their own fights. There wasn't enough time!

The boy wailed again. The monster was upon him. She had to be there! Now!

A spark. The Phoenix came alive in her heart and something inside her split. Suddenly, she was in two places at once.

A flaming silhouette tore down the beast before it could harm the boy. Fiery arms wrapped around its center and it's sandy body instantly melted from the heat, turning to glass and shattering as it was slammed into the asphalt below.

The flames turned back to the scared little boy and held out a hand to help him up. He hesitated, eyes wide with fear, so the silhouette knelt down to his level.

"It'ssssss ok." Echoed Keegan's soft voice from within the flames. It sounded like Home.

The child slowly grasped her blazing hand. It did not burn. It was warm like an embrace. A hug from a loved one. She lifted him into her arms and walked him gently to his father, who sobbed in relief from the doorway of his house.

"Sssstay inssssside." Keegan urged.

The man thanked her, pulling his child to safety.

Across the street, the true Keegan had done away with the first beast. She pried open the broken door handle and ushered the family out of the car. Once they were safe she turned to look over at… herself?

The flaming imitation stared back for a moment, before dissipating into a cloud of smoke.

Well that was new.

[chickensarentcheap]

Esme stuff :)

@tragiclyhip​, @youflickedtooharddamnit​, @secretaryunpaid​

The old fella has been gone for a few days and I’ve been miserable and just missing him like crazy, and when I got back from the grocery store, these were waiting for me. 

I love you, Tae. I miss you.  Come home soon. Be safe.   I’ll see you when I see you ;)

One of the feral little beasts attempting to take care of dinner for the fam.   We start them young around these parts.   lol. 

Baby Brookie modelling the latest in mummy made ponchos.   Not too sure what to make of it.   Daddy said she looks like a garden gnome LOL

The very last Rake baby.  He is so unbelievably perfect.  Tae and I have shut ourselves off from the rest of the world (work responsibilities wise) and are enjoying every moment with him and just soaking up every second.  It’s bittersweet; the end of our single handedly trying to populate the earth.   But it’s been quite the adventure indulging in parenthood.  We will miss the days of having a baby in the house, but my body sure as won’t miss the mess it becomes when carrying a human inside of it.  

And to my love, the best damn (eight time) baby daddy a girl could ever ask for:  Thanks for all the fun (nudge nudge, wink wink) and input of stellar genes.  Your sperm can finally breath easy and retire at lat. And just think: Now sex really IS just for fun ;)

The Fox and Hound traumatized him and traumatized him good.

Side note:  The moment he took that shirt off at bed, it became mine.  I know you love that shirt, Tae, but sharing is caring.  I’ll let you borrow it once in a while. 

Crackers indulging in some fine literature.  How did I become the creature keeper? 

My husband (teeth chattering, his skin turning blue): “It’s actually really good for your system. You should try it.”

Yeahhhh. No.

TJ (who actually enjoys the ice baths after sports matches) calls it the ‘dinkie shrinkie’ box.  LOL.

Let’s observe the master at work.   He’s going to squeeze between parked cars and somehow manage to not only get the truck door open, but get the precious cargo into its car seat and buckled up. All without waking the sleeping menace.

Anyone else’s spouse take the WORST possible pictures of them?  He always manages.  

Him:  “You look like you just got railed.”

Me: “Ummm, maybe because I DID. Your short term memory really is shit.”

LOL

Every time one of the kids gets moody and pouts, I always comment on how the ‘Rake pout’ and how they inherited it from their dad and his fam.

My husband: “I don’t pout.”

Also my husband:

My sister took in an abandoned cat and she just had babies and look at them. LOOK AT THEM.

One of my all time favourite pictures.  Little Peanut safe and warm in daddy’s hands:

  Not too shabby looking for an old fella, huh?

And yay! Another hoodie for me to steal. I mean, borrow.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Blood - Chapter 8

-> Chapter 7

@mismaeve, @heilith

I had a very intense week this far and have not been able to write much, but tonight, I thought I'd at least post something so you know I'm not dead lol

Words: 1,7 k

Warnings: Blood, injuries, seduction

Chapter 8: Fingon

Fingon woke up with a start; he couldn‘t really understand why he kept falling asleep all the time and it made him nervous to realise that he was in a completely different place than when he had closed his eyes. „Oh good, you‘re awake,“ a soft voice beside him said. „We were starting to get rather worried about you.”

Struggling to keep from drifting back into blissful, cool oblivion again, Fingon lifted his head off the soft surface on which it had been resting only to see that strange woman who had dragged him into a hidden cave standing by a carven door. Apparently, her mad flight had not availed her of anything though as they no longer were in the cold, clammy darkness. He could only surmise that they had been recaptured and were awaiting their death.

Her relaxed smile and overall unperturbed demeanour made this bleak suspicion all the more frightening; had she finally given up?

“Who is we and where am I?” Fingon asked, unnerved by the images that now started flashing through his mind. He thought that they might be memories, but he could not be entirely sure.

Moreover, the woman – Aggie, he remembered suddenly, coming over with a tray laden with food looked entirely too healthy and happy to have nourished some unholy demon at her literal breast.

“I guess you’ll have a lot of questions,” she murmured as she motioned towards the offerings encouragingly. “I’ll do my best to answer them as truthfully and carefully as I can. Many things are not entirely clear to me yet either, but I'd willingly share what little knowledge I have obtained with you. Be advised though that my explanations might induce more confusion than you’re already in now.”

Looking at her for a long, breathless moment, Fingon weighed his options. “Am I dead?” he then asked, patting his chest as if to check whether someone had ripped him open while he had been out.

“No, you’re not,” she replied with an indulgent smile, evidently deeming his question much less ludicrous than he thought it to be. “Nobody has touched you.”

“Did you let that creature drink your blood?”

Aggie flinched violently.

“Yes,” she then admitted. “I wish I could say that it’s a long story, but it is not. I have recently learned that there are other things in this world than just birds, beasts, and boring humans. I was a guest in these halls, and I’ve traded – for lack of a better term – my blood against my very life.”

She smiled wistfully. “I have also offered my blood to save his life.”

As Fingon’s face shifted into a mien of outrage and chivalrous anger, she lifted her hands placatingly. “It was my choice,” she specified, “and – man of standing that you are – you might not understand this, but it felt good to have agency.”

“Why did you flee then?” Fingon asked, still frowning fiercely.

“To protect them,” she chuckled wryly. “Idiotic, I know. The one you took for an angel is one of the masters of my town. He’s come to retrieve me and – as you might remember – his negotiations with our host have taken a rather bloody turn.”

“Good,” Fingon cried out, interrupting her tempestuously, “let them tear each other apart.”

“I’d much prefer if they wouldn’t.” Aggie mirrored his frown, visibly disagreeing with his stance. “They’ve done me no harm and I wouldn’t want them to be hurt on my account or my behalf. May I also remind you that they’ve not hurt you even though you were leaking blood all over the floor?”

“They…Oh they would smell that, wouldn’t they?” Fingon said breathlessly; by now, he entirely accepted that he had been captured by blood-drinking monstrosities and was already planning his escape to be sure that he would also stay as hale as possible.

It was incomprehensible to him how Aggie could be so calm and collected about her situation as a living, walking blood bank.

Pensively, Aggie pushed the plate full of delicacies closer to Fingon and once more nodded at him encouragingly. “You might be right about my Lord, by the way, he has behaved very decently towards you indeed. They are…more than what they seem to be, I think.”

The memory of that fire-haired beauty made Fingon seek her evasive gaze. “Where is he? What happened to him?”

Fingon had only half-listened to Aggie’s further explanations after she had divulged the awful truth about the two strange beings who had found them in the cave; nonetheless, he couldn’t disregard the sensation of dread that had clung to her rosy skin ever since he had first seen her. Finally, he understood that she had been afraid for these creatures rather than of them.

Consequently, Fingon deduced that there must have been some danger to their immortal selves, and he yearned to know whether that peril had indeed passed or if they were still in the midst of a conflict that far surpassed his level of wisdom and skill.

“He has been made prisoner of my…of our host,” Aggie replied, her mouth tight with displeasure and her eyes bright with determination.

It gave Fingon a considerable jolt to realise that she intended to challenge that decision; he had thought her slightly peculiar from the start, but even her wildest previous behaviour could not have made him suspect that she’d dare confront a vampire about the way he treated his foes.

“At least he’s been given acceptable quarters,” she griped under her breath and then her shrewd, sharp eyes returned to Fingon’s face intently. “Why don’t you go check on him? I have a self-proclaimed king to deal with?”

Fingon nodded dazedly and placidly took the hand stretched out to him to be led down a long, lightless corridor.

“Fingon? It doesn’t hurt, you know?” she whispered as she pressed a hasty kiss on his cheek and ran back the way they had come.

He was surprised to find himself in a vaulted room, lit by flickering torches, which contained a shallow, steaming pool.

As his eyes grew used to gloomy atmosphere, Fingon could make out a tall, slender figure sitting hunched over in the farthest corner of said artificial body of water; it seemed to him as if what little light wavered in the cavern was attracted and bundled by the shimmering white of its skin.

Stepping closer though, he could also discern the angry red gashes of wounds he would have known to be lethal to any other man. To his astonishment, they looked more like tears in fabric or cracks in stone than like actual injuries on that pristine canvas of marble and milk.

For a long moment, he simply stood in the shadow of a large pillar and observed the surmised angel, ladling warm water over his shapely flesh idly.

His heart clenched as he realised that the nefarious creature looked positively depressed.

Nevertheless, he – for Fingon was entirely sure that the shape of this body, supernatural as it might have been, was that of a man – was of a mind-numbing beauty. His long, unbound hair fell across broad shoulders and the muscles rippling with every movement reminded him of avalanches of snow tumbling down a mountainside in an elegant symphony.

Everything about him seemed to draw Fingon in. He halted, digging his heels into the hard floor vainly; of course, a refined predator such as this one would attract his prey easily and Fingon was not about to be led to his doom without so much as putting up an honest fight.

“I can feel you there,” the being then spoke softly, its voice warm and melodious despite the audible weariness. “You may draw closer. I am too weak to do you any harm.”

In spite of his previous thoughts and resolutions, Fingon shuffled forward eagerly, walking right into the pool and feeling the water saturate his clothes until they hung, soaked and heavy, from his own shivering frame.

“What?” The vampire lifted his head quickly, blazing eyes drilling into Fingon with something akin to amusement. “Are you trying to drown yourself?”

In a flash, his speed belying his assurances, he was by Fingon’s side and steadied him as he slipped on the smooth tiles.

“What is your name?” Fingon asked breathlessly. “Who are you?”

The lethal prisoner – was this what Aggie had had in mind? – smiled indulgently before offering up “Maedhros” as a reply to his question in a tone that suggested that he had more than one name and merely suggested this one because he thought it easiest to remember or pronounce.

“I am part of a neighbouring coven and the other vampire, Thranduil, has taken something that belongs to us,” he then explained calmly.

“Aggie?”

“Yes.” Upon seeing the struggle between pugnacious bravery and primal fear in Fingon’s eyes, Maedhros drew back slowly. “She’s a peculiar one, I have to admit. She’s defended you quite impressively.”

“Me?” Fingon was aghast by that revelation as he stood still in the middle of the pool, his eyes never leaving the marred being whose pulchritude was only heightened by the brave pathos of its gaping wounds. “And you complied?”

Maedhros cocked his head thoughtfully and nodded. “You’re…special too. Thranduil got what he needed from your little friend and I would not have harmed you. You are in no danger. I am sure that he’d let you go if you asked courteously.”

“I won’t,” Fingon heard himself say as he shrugged out of his dirty tunic to alleviate the drag of the water sloshing softly when Maedhros started to pour it over himself again. He was entirely naked, Fingon then realised, and a wave of heat surged from his stomach into his head.

“Why?” A quizzical smile appeared on that unbearably handsome face, turned up confidently and inquisitively.

It was then that Fingon realised that he did not truly know why he suddenly no longer cared about his father’s expectations or his future bride…not when those captivating eyes roamed across his bare chest with unguarded hunger and desire.

“You called Aggie my friend,” he mused aloud, “and I’d want to be a friend to her. Explain to me what I saw when I woke up in that cave, please.”

Maedhros sighed deeply and then his eyes closed as he slumped against the wall of the pool.

So, new dividers and some tension...

Lots of love from me <3

-> Chapter 9

[stab-the-son-of-a]

Liars and Those Who Believe Them

No. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE Lies | New Scars | Breathing through the Pain

CW: The POV character has a flashback, a panic attack, and imagines a scenario including a child death. There is no actual child death. Also, a sentient creature is referred to in dehumanizing terms and by pronouns.

Tag list: @teamwhump, @painsandconfusion, @annablogsposts

Sloan let out a shaky breath as they closed the cellar door, but it was only after they’d turned the key and returned it around their neck that they allowed themself a weak moment pressed against the door. Their legs wobbled beneath them and they had to brace themself just to avoid sinking down to the floor. 

That was it. That thing down there was the one from six years ago. Those damn golden eyes and deep green markings were exactly the same as in their nightmares.

They could still smell the copper in the air, but even years later they weren’t sure if that was blood or the monster’s magic. They didn’t care to find out. 

Begging God and their sister and their friends to hold on, eyes watering from smoke and grief, fingers slipping wetly along bloodied skin. Throat ripping open from fear and pain and their own useless screams.

The monster in the basement had no right to be here. None whatsoever. Losing one family had been hard enough, but to lose this one, the one they’d only just felt fully a part of? No. Never. Unconscionable. 

Unbidden, their mind filled in the memory of that burning night with the faces of their friends. Immediately sick, they held back their nausea with a firm hand over their mouth and cooled the boiling rage and disgust with rapid, shallow breathing. 

They couldn’t lose Euliana, she had so many years to live, an entire life to develop- she was only a child. A sweet, energetic, lively child that needed their protection. And to consider losing Lorne or Brynn- that couldn’t possibly happen. They couldn’t live a day without Brynn making some stupid joke or making the dinner turkey talk or dance, or without Lorne and their crooked, relieved smile whenever Sloan offered to take Euliana to town with them. And they could never forgive themself if they let the light that had only just returned to Paxton’s eyes disappear into the unrelenting darkness of death. For Merry to be still forever, never to watch her animatedly launch into an explanation of her latest forays into a new recipe or dish? Never. 

Sloan stood between death and their family and they would stand strong until their last breath, no matter what else was taken before then.

Only the knowledge that the monster was securely locked away, collared, chained and caged, helped soothe the panic, but only briefly. Sloan shut their eyes and counted backward.

Ten bars on either side of the cage. Nine separate runes for burning, tearing, trapping, keeping that beast locked away. Seven links of chain between the shackles on the creature’s legs. Six shuddering breaths. Five dear souls to protect. Four years of joy they could lose in an instant. Three methodical locks on the door. Two long empty years without anyone by their side save for grief and pain. One monster in the basement.

“Sloan?” 

They jerked their head up and surreptitiously slipped the stun baton into their jacket pocket.

Paxton approached them carefully, hand and eyebrows raised in concern, his mouth slightly open still. “Are you okay?”

With wide eyes, Sloan jerked their head up to stare at him. “Pax…” Their voice broke and their breathing came in a drawn shuddering gasp. They reached out - and almost sobbed as Paxton crossed the rest of the distance to pull them into a tight hug, folding their body against his protectively.

“Did- you’re not hurt, right?” he asked them. He gingerly carded his fingers through their hair, a motion that soothed the vicious panic prickling in their blood. Sloan buried their face in his shoulder. “You’re trembling.”

“No- not really- it- it tried to bite me,” Sloan blurted the first thought that came to mind. 

Paxton sucked in a sharp inhale.

“I- I’m fine, really, it didn’t bite me for real, but I was just- it just–”

“You were scared,” Paxton whispered, speaking the words so that Sloan didn’t have to. They relaxed slightly, though their hands gripped tighter onto Paxton’s shirt. “I can join you next time–”

“No!” 

Sloan wasn’t even aware that they shoved Paxton until the man had stepped back, his own fear trembling in his hands. Guilt hit them like a baseball bat, sickening and stealing the air from their lungs. 

“No, no, I- I’m so sorry, Pax, I- I hurt you- I’m sorry,” they babbled.

Paxton offered a weak smile, but his eyes were dark and shadowed with his own memories. “Let’s just have some tea together.” 

For a moment, they were certain they had irreparably hurt Paxton- only for him to hold his hand out to them.

Relieved by the peace offering, Sloan gratefully slipped their hand in his and allowed him to lead them to the living room. They paused only long enough to stow their jacket - and the stun baton - in the closet.

Sloan breathed a little easier after that.