#the lower body and the crossbow were a given but not even the hair was working man

[starswordartblog]

“The red shooting star running through the fields, that’s me...”

Shininginktober late Day 10: May Matilda! I like her japanese name better okay, also it’s not shared with two more characters.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 2,759 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, references to gore, mentions of anxiety, disturbing imagery, typical TWD stuff Summary: Daryl and Y/N are outside the walls when they hear a baby crying. A/N: THIS IS SO SOFT I MIGHT DIE. Requested by anonymous! Hope you like it! Thanks for the request!

Your name: submit What is this?

You froze. You glanced back at the archer, “D’you hear that?” you asked him in a harsh whisper.

Daryl strained his hearing. “Heard somethin’.”

You’d been venturing out with Daryl for tracking lessons for quite some time. He’d been somewhat opposed to the idea at first, not liking the idea of you wandering around outside the walls, but you’d worn him down. Now, you were getting quite good at reading sign and he had noticed that you seemed to be much more observant, vigilant as you moved through the trees. Your footsteps were nearly silent.

You straightened up, turning from the trail of the deer you’d been tracing, and Daryl watched as you turned to the side, your eyes lifted to some unknown distant point in the trees.

“What is it?” he asked, noticing the slightly anxious look on your face.

You shook your head almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling more than anything.” You glanced back at him and were met with his steady blue eyes. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment. “Come on,” you said, stepping away from the deer trail and moving in the direction you thought the sound had come from.

You didn’t have to go far before you heard the sound again, and this time it was much clearer. Your wide eyes met Daryl’s, his brow heavily furrowed. Your stomach twisted. You turned and increased your pace.

You moved through the brush as quietly as you could and finally you saw a shape looming ahead. It was an abandoned house, more of a shack really than anything. The sound was clear now as you crouched at the edge of the lot. Daryl knelt beside you and you exchanged a harried glance with him.

It was a baby crying and it was coming from inside the house. There were about a dozen walkers beating on the rotten woods of the dilapidated structure. It looked like it wouldn’t be long before they broke in.

Daryl worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “S’a lot of walkers,” he murmured.

You gulped and looked back. “We have to do something.”

He sighed, hesitating, his eyes flickering between your face and the group of the dead.

You couldn’t wait anymore. There was a swell of urgency growing in your chest, like a high tide rushing in. You swore under your breath and unsheathed the knife at your hip. You rushed out of the brush and right toward the walkers.

Daryl scrambled up to follow you.

You plunged your knife into the skull of the first walker lurching at you and immediately repeated the action with another. As you pulled your knife out, you landed a kick into one of the dead who was grappling for you.

Daryl was soon beside you, slashing and stabbing just like you were to clear the way to the building.

By the time you were done, you were drenched in sweat and Daryl looked at the circle of now still corpses around you. There was a spray of walker blood across your neck. He was about to scold you for rushing in, but he was taken aback by the number you had killed, and you weren’t done with your somewhat frantic mission.

You charged to the door and saw that it was splintered from the latch. They’d almost broken through. You turned the handle and pushed inside. You froze with just one foot inside the small house.

Daryl looked in past you, over your shoulder.

There was the desperately wailing baby, still swaddled to its mother in a makeshift carrier. She was dead. You made a lunge toward the infant, but Daryl’s hand clasped your shoulder gently and stopped you. You glanced back at him, your eyes glistening with tears and your expression pure desperation.

He nodded. “We dunno what she died from. And she could turn at any second. Be careful,” he murmured.

You nodded at him and he lifted his hand. You approached the prone figure cautiously, all the while the baby’s cries piercing straight through you. You knelt down and carefully lifted the swaddled infant from the body of its mother, being careful and kind to the body of the woman who had probably given her everything to see that her child survived.

Daryl watched as you murmured to the infant in a soft voice, shushing and humming. “Shhh, it’s alright. It’s okay.” You pressed the baby to your chest and stood, bouncing slightly to try and soothe the cries. Eventually, she stilled. You glanced up at Daryl, your eyes still wide and glistening, although no tears stained your cheeks.

He was staring at you with a curious expression on his face. It was soft and thoughtful. He shouldered the strap of his crossbow and moved farther into the house, looking around. “Gotta be some supplies for that baby here somewhere, right?” he said. He felt the need to focus on a task because looking at you with the little bundle against your chest was bringing to life some warm, fluttery feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Hopefully,” you said, wrapping the sling around yourself and settling the baby inside. You smiled sweetly as she grasped your finger and a little laugh of joy bubbled out of you. Daryl looked up from his search and saw you smoothing your hand over her soft hair. “She has to be starving,” you said, your eyes a little starry.

Daryl tore his eyes away from the scene again. “Mm,” he acknowledged, the best he could do because he was worried what might slip out if he said any more. “Here,” he said, picking up a small duffel bag. It had some bottles and formula in it, as well as cloth diapers and a baby toy.

He shouldered the bag and walked back to you, peeking in over your shoulder at the little face pressed against you, your finger in her tiny, curled hand. “C’mon,” he said softly, surprising himself and you as his hand landed lightly on your lower back. “Let’s get her back somewhere safe.”

You looked up into his face and saw that his expression was open, earnest, soft. Your heart jumped. You nodded, but hesitated a moment when he started to head toward the door. Daryl looked back when he didn’t feel you behind him and saw that you were staring down at the still figure on the floor. “We can’t just leave her like this. She’ll turn,” you said softly, your brow furrowing.

He gulped and nodded. “Alright. Just wait outside a sec. I’ll do it,” he said, unsheathing his knife.

You gave him a sad but grateful look, pressing the baby against you more securely and nodded. “Thank you.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You arrived back at the gate to Alexandria and Rosita let you in. Her eyes went wide when she realized what you exactly that bundle slung across your chest was. She came closer and peeked into the sling, her eyes flitting up to meet yours.

“We found her in an abandoned house, surrounded by walkers. Her mom was already dead,” you whispered. She was sleeping against you.

Rosita’s expression was sad for a moment, but then she smiled at the rosy cheeks and long eyelashes fanned out against the little girl’s cheeks. “Preciosa,” she murmured.

You smiled up at her.

Daryl was watching the whole interaction from a couple feet away and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were so soft and gentle, the look in your eyes like you’d never seen something more beautiful in your whole life. He kept feeling waves of warmth blooming out from his core and suddenly seemed unable to stand still, shifting his weight and tapping his fingers against his leg. “We should take her to get checked out by the doc,” Daryl said quietly.

You nodded, giving Rosita one last smile and then falling into stride beside him.

Daryl glanced over at you as you walked to the clinic. You caught him studying your face and gave him a questioning look.

“I wanted to yell at ya out there for rushin’ in like that,” he said. He glanced again at the baby. “But I get it. If you hadn’t, I woulda.”

You nodded. “I don’t what happened—I just couldn’t sit there and let them get her, even if it meant I might—” you broke off, not wanting to speak what was always a real possibility outside the walls.

“Yeah. Ya killed like seven of ‘em yourself before I even got there,” he said, slight amusement turning one corner of his mouth up.

You smiled abashedly. “Yeah…”

“I mean, I know ya can fight but—” he broke off, shaking his head, that vague smile still slightly curving his lips.

You arrived at the clinic and Daryl led the way inside. Denise looked up as he came in and immediately sighed. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me one of you needs stitches again?”

But she froze when you stepped in with that swaddled bundle in your arms.

Her eyebrows lifted. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked, bewildered, as you wandered over.

“Can you take a look at her?” you asked, lifting her out of the sling that was draped around you. She woke and stirred, immediately starting to cry again. The sound tugged at your heart.

Denise nodded. “Of course. Bring her over here,” she said, leading the way to a cushioned exam table.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. It’s alright,” you cooed, setting her down on her back. You offered your finger and she gripped it tightly. You smiled up at Daryl and his heart skipped a beat at the breathtaking light in your eyes and that irresistible grin. “She feels strong. That’s good, right?” you asked, turning to Denise.

She was setting her stethoscope aside. “Lungs and heart sound great. She looks healthy.” She glanced up at you. “I don’t know exactly what happened out there, but I have a hunch she’s lucky you found her.”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“I think I saw some baby formula and other stuff you might need in the supply room. Lemme just check,” Denise said.

You scooped the little girl back up into your arms and her cries immediately became less desperate. You pressed her to your shoulder and rubbing her back softly, shushing her and bouncing, pressing her soft hair to your cheek. “Daryl, would you mind making up a bottle for her?” you asked.

He nudged his nose up in a nod, and you felt warmth in your face as you watched the tough biker pull out the canister of formula and a bottle, which looked tiny in his hand. You smiled to yourself as he went to mix up a bottle.

Denise returned with another canister of powdered formula and more cloth diapers as well as some other odds and ends for baby care. She shoved them into the bag Daryl had found at the abandoned house. Denise smiled and smoothed a hand over her soft hair. “Pretty amazing. Everyone is going to lose their minds over her. Little ones are so rare now,” she said. “First Judith and now this sweet little one.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if Daryl and I had waited until tomorrow to go tracking, or if I had just ignored the first sound I heard.”

Denise nodded. “But you didn’t. And she’s safe and healthy now.”

Daryl came back with a bottle he had warmed slightly in the microwave and you grinned at him as he handed it to you. You adjusted her in your arms and she immediately latched on to the bottle and started eating. Daryl studied the tender expression on your face, that little smile that seemed like it might stay there forever now. He reached a hand up and rubbed absently at the ache in his chest. You looked up at Denise again. “Thanks, Denise,” you said. “We should head back to the house.”

“Anytime.” Denise gently smoothed her hand over the tiny girl’s hair one more time and gave you a kind smile.

You and Daryl started back toward the house at a leisurely pace. He still had the bag slung over his shoulder and you watched as she drank the formula hungrily. You could feel Daryl’s eyes on your face again and you glanced up at him.

“This mean you’re a mom now?” the archer drawled. You were struck by the question your eyebrows lifted.

“Huh… I hadn’t really thought about it that way,” you said, adjusting the bottle in your hand and looking back down at the little one in your arms. “She needs a mom. And I’m here,” you said softly. “I guess so,” you said, looking back up at Daryl. “Life is strange,” you said, shaking your head, peering back down at her.

“Mhm,” Daryl agreed. “She’s lucky to have ya.” Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

You were immediately swarmed by the group when you arrived back at the house. Everyone pressed in to see the baby, cooing and smiling. She was going to be so loved.

“Can I hold her?” Carol asked immediately.

“Hey! Nuh uh!” Daryl said, hurrying to set down the baby bag and his crossbow. “I helped save her and I ain’t even held her yet. Give her here,” he said, holding his arms out.

You grinned at him and carefully passed her to Daryl. He smiled down at her, rocking her from side to side. The sight of him with that sweet little baby in his strong arms was doing things to you… You hoped your face wasn’t turning red from the flush of heat you felt. “She needs a name,” you said thoughtfully.

“Easy. Lil’ Asskicker 2.0,” Daryl said, letting her grasp onto his finger. Everyone had a good laugh about that.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That night you fell asleep on the floor of the living room with the little girl beside you on a blanket. You were curled around her and she was pressed close against you, needing the comfort of someone to sleep.

Daryl was sitting on the couch nearby, alternating between cleaning and sharpening his blades and thoughtfully watching you sleep beside the new group member.

Carol leaned on the back of the couch beside him, looking over at you and the baby, smiling. Daryl turned to look at her.

“It’s nice to be reminded that good things can still happen,” she said softly.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, nodding. He flicked his thumb over the edge of the knife blade he was sharpening, testing to see if it needed more. “Ya should have seen her out there. She just ran right into this group of walkers and started takin’ ‘em out.”

Carol’s smile widened. “Maternal instinct,” she said. She glanced over at the archer and saw his blue eyes fixated on you. “Looks like she has a mom. She’s going to need a dad.”

Daryl’s eyes snapped over to peer back at Carol, his brow furrowing low. He scoffed a little at her statement. “She’s got a whole group of us. She don’t need me.”

“So, you wouldn’t like that? Having your own little family within our big family? Especially with Y/N…” she said, a knowing smile on her face. “Come on, your ears turn red every time she enters the room!”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably as Carol spoke a wish that was close to his heart, but which he was too terrified to act on.

Carol quit her teasing and sighed, looking back at you and the little one sleeping peacefully. “You’re not your father, Daryl. You’re you. And you’d be an amazing dad,” she said. “And if you don’t try, find something worth holding onto, worth protecting, what’s the point anymore?” And more than anything, Daryl knew that you were worth protecting. And now so was this little one. So, maybe it was time that he tried for what he wanted.

[teamddixon]

A New Normal - Part 2

Summary: Set in the future of the TWD timeline, this story follows Daryl, Y/N and her brother through their journey in the world of the undead. It wasn’t like Daryl to let people in to his heart easily, but it was Y/N’s smiles that had captured him completely, and before he knew it, there wasn’t a scenario Daryl could think of about his future that didn’t have Y/N in it.

A/N: Second part of A New Normal is here! Check out Part 1 here. Just a quick note, for readers who can’t relate to having an older brother, Andrew can be read as an older cousin, or a friend. He doesn’t have to be a biological brother. :) Comments and feedback are appreciated! As usual, photos/gifs are not mine, but any mistakes in this are certainly mine. Hope you enjoy this second part! It’s doesn’t have a lot of action going on but hope you like the fluff!

Daryl loaded his crossbow with the arrow he had just dug out from the walker’s head and slung it across his back. Y/N watched him from the sidelines and got increasingly intrigued by him. Daryl’s hardened and tough exterior was evidence of a man who looked like he had carried the weight of the whole world on his shoulders all his life, yet beneath that shell sat an inkling of a kindhearted and tender man. She didn’t know Daryl, but she felt safe with him, as with Andrew. Daryl had after all just saved her from a walker.

“Ya gon be okay alone out here?” Daryl’s stern expression was now softer, gentler. Despite having just met her, Daryl was worried about Y/N going on her quest alone. It was almost like an occupational disease after years of taking care of people around him. Daryl immediately felt a strong sense of responsibility for her, like he wanted to do anything in his might to keep her safe for as long as the world allowed. He was almost instantly attracted to her, like a moth to a flame – or a walker to brains. It wasn’t that he had no faith in her survival skills, but because the world – or whatever was left of it – needed her smiles. He needed her smiles and he needed to protect it at all cost.

“Yeah, I’m going to be. My brother shouldn’t be too far from here.” Y/N wanted to leave, but there was a disconnect between her brain and her legs. She continued to stand exactly where she was, across from Daryl. A part of her didn’t want to say goodbye. She felt a strong, undeniable pull towards him. And Daryl hadn’t moved from his spot either.

Daryl held on to Y/N’s gaze, his mind racing to think of the right words to say. He didn’t want to come off as a creep wanting to follow Y/N, but he didn’t want to see her leave either. Silence hung thick in the air between them. Y/N cleared her throat in an attempt to break the silence, although she had not exactly thought of what she was going to say.

At that very moment, Daryl’s ears picked up the sound of rustling leaves and breaking twigs not far from where they were and the sound was coming from all directions behind them. The low growls were getting increasingly noticeable, so was the smell of rotten flesh in the air. From the sound of it, Daryl estimated the herd to be at least 20 to 30 walkers. The earlier tussle between Y/N and the walker must have attracted the herd’s attention to their location. His instincts immediately kicked in and his very first thought was to get Y/N to safety. On his own, he would have easily taken all of the walkers down, but he wasn’t about to risk Y/N’s life.

“Let’s get outta here.” Daryl’s urgently called. Y/N turned and saw that walkers were fast approaching them, their jaws hanging like starved animals. They were both in plain sight of the walkers. Daryl pointed towards the direction in front and gestured for Y/N to run. Quickly and steadily, with the knife firmly in her hands, she followed behind Daryl without turning back. As Daryl ran, his mind was focused on one thing – Y/N. Ever so often he would turn back just to check if she was still there. Through the rush, Daryl saw that her smiles were gone now, replaced by a look of determination and fight.

Daryl moved quickly and silently with Y/N hot on his heels until he spotted a secluded area that would hide them away from the walkers. It was a tiny opening obscured by a thick foliage and just about enough space for two adults. Grabbing Y/N by the arm, Daryl shoved her inside the opening before joining her. Y/N watched in bated breath as the walkers staggered right past the spot they were hiding, completely unaware of their whereabouts. Soon, the sound of their growls became softer and softer, until she couldn’t hear them anymore.

Y/N finally let out the breath she was holding and looked up at Daryl just as he turned to face her. A soft laughter escaped Y/N’s lips, which made Daryl’s heart swell and his heart rate increase. He looked away quickly, afraid that his face would give him away if the sound of his heartbeat against his ribcage doesn’t. Standing face to face with each other, Y/N was suddenly extremely aware of the lack of space between her and Daryl. Her head was almost touching his chest, and she could feel it moving up and down with his panting breaths. There was a rhythmic sound of a constant thumping, almost as if someone was playing drums right inside of Y/N’s cochlear. She later realized that it was the sound of her own heartbeat that she was hearing, which she attributed not to the run she just had, but to the feeling of closeness between them. There was no way they could have caught the sound of each other’s heartbeats over their own. Although the walkers were now long gone, they continued to stay where they were, the absence of space looked as if they were both stuck together. Daryl closed his eyes for a second, mentally willing his pounding heart to slow down. When he opened them, he saw Y/N looking up at him, her expression unreadable.

“Ya okay?” He asked, as they finally stepped out of their hiding spot with Daryl fussing over the cuts on Y/N’s face and arms from the sharp branches. “Ye – Yes, I, uh, I am.” Y/N whispered. Seeing the way Daryl fussed over her, making sure she wasn’t scratched or bit anywhere made her cheeks burned. For some reason, she tried to hold her breath, as if afraid that even the slightest movement from her would break the moment. Without missing a beat, Daryl reached out to touch Y/N’s face to examine the cuts she must have gotten when she was squeezing through the foliage. That simple act, which would have been natural for most people, shocked even Daryl himself. His old friends wouldn’t have pegged him as someone who would easily show his affections for a girl he just met, and yet there he was. “How about you, are you okay?” Y/N finally breathed, to which Daryl simply nodded in response.

“I, uh, should go. I need to find my brother.” Quite a long time had passed since Y/N was separated from Andrew and as much as she enjoyed these moments with Daryl, she didn’t want Andrew to worry.

That was the moment Daryl knew he had to say something. It was now, or never. He needed to see Y/N again and to know she was safe, at least until she found her brother. In the current world they were in, tomorrow was not a given nor guaranteed. He may never see her again if he didn’t say what he wanted to say. “I’ll go with ya.” He half-grunted, half-whispered, evading Y/N’s eyes while pretending to be busy adjusting his crossbow.

Surprised, yet strangely elated with Daryl’s preposition, Y/N smiled. There were no words required. A bond had been forged between them and while they didn’t yet know, they were about to be bound together like each other’s new family.

Andrew soon came into view, not far from where Daryl and Y/N had started off from. He was visibly stained with blood all over his body. Seeing her brother again, Y/N dashed forward and threw him a hug. “Are you okay? Are these blood –“ Y/N gasped.

“The walker’s.” Andrew replied, relieved to see Y/N. When the herd came through moments ago, Andrew had been worried. The herd came from the direction where he last left Y/N more than an hour ago and he couldn’t help but worry if she had managed to evade, or at least fight them. He took down the walkers with ease, and quickly traced his trial back to look for her. From a distance, he saw her running towards him with a man next to her, his disheveled hair obscuring his face. He immediately reached for his gun, a weapon he only use during emergencies, ready to shoot, but the look on his sister’s face had been… happy, smiling. She hadn’t seemed afraid of the man at all, nor did she looked like she was under any kind of threat. Still, the sudden appearance of the man kicked in all of his protective instincts.

“Who are you?” Andrew asked as he stared directly into Daryl’s eyes, gun trained on Daryl’s forehead. Y/N was all he had, and if he had to kill someone who was a threat, he would have no qualms. Daryl on the other hand had made no moves to reach for his crossbow. 

“’M Daryl.” Daryl nodded at Andrew.

“He saved my life back there. Twice.” Y/N quickly interjected, tapping on Andrew’s arm to lower his gun. Andrew shot his sister a look, but his hand remain raised with the gun. “Are you hurt?”

“No I’m fine. Just some cuts from hiding from the dead but otherwise fine. Look at me, I still have all my limbs!” Y/N smiled and spun around with her hands in the air, her light chuckles filling the spaces between them. Andrew nodded and looked back at Daryl again, holding the gaze for a moment before lowering his gun and returning it to its holster. Daryl watched as Y/N twirled around, her loose pony tail flying behind her like a kite in the sky. His heart felt full again when he saw Y/N’s smile and hearing her laughter ringing in his ears. It was enough to light up even the darkest of times he’d experienced and he wondered where that smile had been in his life all along.

“I think we should move together.” Y/N steadied her footing and proposed the idea to Andrew and Daryl. Daryl had proven to be an experienced walker-killer and was quick witted, but most importantly, although Y/N didn’t want to admit it, she just can’t bear to say goodbye to Daryl. Where they are living in now, it wasn’t like she could just call him on the phone to meet up at the coffee shop down the street any time they wanted. Any day could be their last day on earth, and she wasn’t ready for that day to be last time she saw Daryl again. She was afraid of Daryl’s rejection, but she was even more afraid of her brother rejecting her preposition. Trust don’t come by easy, not when the alive were more dangerous than the flesh eating corpses.

It wasn’t like Daryl to allow people in to his heart so easily. He was happy and contented on his own and he’d rather be that way, so he could avoid the heartbreak when someone left or died. Just like so many others who were still surviving in this crazy world, Daryl had had his fair share of losses. People he loved, people he cared for, so cruelly taken down. But he was conflicted. On one hand he really didn’t want to part with Y/N, but on the other, he was so afraid of opening his heart to her, only to have his world torn apart someday. He weighed the cost in his head and finally decided to risk losing Y/N later than losing her now without even trying. Daryl held Y/N’s gaze and nodded in agreement before turning to look at Andrew.

Y/N’s heart and spirit immediately lifted upon seeing Daryl’s simple nod of his head. She got to see Daryl again, and even if it was only for another day, it would have made all the difference. She turned to look at Andrew, silently anticipating, praying. She understood the risk it involved, inviting a stranger into their midst. While Y/N had never been a hundred percent accurate with her character judgement in the past, she gravitated towards Daryl naturally and her instincts told her he was a trustworthy guy. Y/N nudged Andrew’s arm lightly to elicit a response and finally Andrew nodded too. “Thanks for saving my sister back there.” Andrew called out to Daryl, and Daryl nodded in response. “But if you tried to harm my sister in any way, I would not hesitate to kill you.” Andrew leaned in towards Daryl and whispered.

Even after years of being alone, it wasn’t hard to get used to Y/N’s presence in his life. She was like a rare flower in a land of the barren, her energy bringing hope to an otherwise hopeless future. Every day in this crazy world, new walkers were made when people died and there never seemed to be a way out of it. But having each other was all they needed to not just simply exist, but to live. Daryl, Y/N and Andrew travelled together for weeks, scavenging new camps left by now-walkers, hunting for animals, looking for shelters.

Just within the first week, it was already easy for Andrew to completely trust Daryl seeing the way he looked out for Y/N. He was quiet yet absolutely badass when dispatching the walkers and keeping them out of Y/N’s way. He was resourceful and almost anything he touched could be used creatively and effectively as a weapon. Andrew could see that Y/N was smitten, she once spent an entire afternoon naming random objects and betting with Daryl that he could turn them into a weapon. “I bet I can throw you a cotton ball right now and you would have made it into a deadly bullet or something.” She laughed, her admiration for Daryl exuding like the noonday sun.

Andrew felt assured with Daryl looking after Y/N. He could tell there was a spark between them and he could tell clearly that Y/N liked Daryl as much as he liked her, although the two of them had never openly admitted it. Andrew had never seen Y/N so happy like she was now since the day shit hit the fan. Daryl and Y/N grew closer and closer, and even though Daryl still wasn’t the type to show physical affections, Andrew swore he caught Daryl attempting to hold Y/N’s hands on multiple occasions.

Travelling wasn’t easy. A journey that would have taken them 3 hours took them 3 days on foot. It was a stroke of luck one day that they found a car that still had some kind of fuel in it, and it was even more of a miracle that when travelling down that winding road in the car, Daryl spotted a motorcycle abandoned along the side, almost hidden from sight. He quickly got out of the car and picked up the motorcycle to check its state. There was a hint of a grin on his face, which Y/N caught a sneak of, when he realized the motorcycle was working.

Y/N grinned, watching Daryl from the side as he admired the two-wheeled metal like a kid who had just been given an unlimited cartoon time. “Can I ride with you?” Y/N chirped excitedly, bringing Daryl’s attention to her. She turned to look at her brother, who rolled his eyes at her in response. Daryl looked at Andrew too, waiting for his approval. He would love to bring Y/N on a ride, but he was worried about overstepping Andrew. Daryl’s worries were unfounded though because there was no way Andrew could say no to Y/N. And he knew he could trust Daryl to keep her safe.

“Hop on then.” Daryl said as he threw his leg over the seat like second nature. Y/N laughed excitedly as she did the same. It had been years since she had last ride pillion on a motorbike. The pure excitement was like finally getting into the roller coaster she had been queuing hours for. She snuggled in onto the seat behind Daryl and waved to Andrew who was now in the driver’s seat of the car next to the bike.

Y/N wasn’t afraid to let herself laugh out loud. The sound of the engine was louder than her laughter anyway. She grabbed tightly onto Daryl’s waist with one hand, and raised her other hand in the air, enjoying the cool breeze kissing her cheeks as Daryl brought her down the road. It felt so freeing with Daryl there with her, the sound of the engine and winds in her ears drowning out the hungry calls of the walkers.

Unknown to Y/N, Daryl’s face was positively flushed. The gentle pressure and the warmth of Y/N’s arm around his waist gave him comfort, a comfort he didn’t know he was yearning for until he met her. A comfort that felt so much like home that it was unnatural for Daryl who had never felt the comfort of a home his whole life. He never knew he would find this simple comfort in the most unlikely of worlds. Bit by bit, Daryl was learning to receive intimacy from another person because of Y/N. Slowly but surely, the walls he had built were coming off brick by brick, mortar by mortar because of Y/N. He watched Y/N through the rearview mirrors and saw her beautiful face looking skyward, her eyes closed and a contented smile on her lips and his heart swelled. He wanted to freeze time at that exact moment where it was just him and Y/N, and none of that dead shit happening around them. The irony though, had the undead not happen, he probably would have never met Y/N.

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 14

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 14

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“Tt. I will cut that stupid harlot into pieces.” Damian scowled. He, Allegra, Claude, Jon, Felix, Marinette, and Chloé sat at one of the prime tables in the cafeteria. His wife just finished telling them what happened after the initiation meeting.

“Maybe we don’t immediately jump to murder?” Claude suggested.

“I agree. We don’t have a place to hide a body yet.” Chloé supplied. 

“That’s not what… nevermind.” Allegra sighed. 

“Dami! I appreciate the thought, but maybe keep it as plan Z?”

“Plan Z is where I need more than one body bag.” He grumbled but nodded. “But we can postpone it.”

“Okay. Let’s act rationally and focus on prevention. Teachers will be useless.” Felix chose to act as the voice of reason.

“I really hoped it would be different than Paris…” Marinette moaned.

“It is. If they actually catch her, she will be expelled. But you’re not exactly the headmaster’s favorite person while Erica seems to be held high by him. We would need a solid proof and she is cunning.” Claude explained. 

“Remember Lucy Hunt?” Allegra asked. “She did something to attract Erica’s wrath and she had to move to Metropolis after she had a mental breakdown. Nothing was ever proven and to the naked eye it would look like a series of coincidences.”

“So she is smarter than Lila?” The shorter Parisian asked, worried about what was to come.

“Nah. She just knows how to talk with the right people.” Claude dismissed. 

“First order of business would be to ensure she has nothing real to hurt you with.” Felix started. 

Damian and Marinette shared a worried gaze before the boy spoke. “The site is foolproof. Drake made sure to use some of the best technology we have to protect it. Not even a super AI can hack it.” He subtly nodded his head to where Max and Markov ate. Kim and Alix were with them. The skater girl looked really upset. “Same with social media. Short of an alien invasion or if someone physically broke into where we hid the servers, you’re safe on that front.” 

It clearly took a lot of weight from her shoulders. 

“Okay, now onto blackmail?”

“Tt. That’s not something to discuss where we can be overheard.” Damian quickly shut that topic down. 

“Right. Sorry.” Jon rubbed the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry, Kent. I’m covering that front.” Chloé smirked. 

“That’s great…” Claude started, but then pointed toward another table, with quite a lot of people. “Is that Erica… and you said that Sausage Hair was Layla Bossi?”

“Lila Rossi,” Chloé corrected him. “But I like Lie-la Bossi better now.”

“They seem… friendly..” Jon commented when the two girls hugged.

“I would actually expect them to be rivals, given that both want Damian,” Allegra noted. 

“Are they… crying?” Marinette asked.

“Crocodile tears.” Felix glared at them. “They are up to something. I don’t…” He never got to finish, because a purple butterfly descended from the ceiling and landed on Erica’s ring. The corrupted energy surrounded her momentarily and when it died out, her whole appearance was changed.

She now wore a black one-piece cheerleader uniform, similar to what GA cheerleaders wore, except it was black with red lines and not lilac with a white finish. On her chest, there was, in a jagged script, written ‘Gargoyle’. Her face was now in a light shade of red, with tear stains permanently etched on her cheeks. Her eyes were entirely white. Her blonde hair was turned into a messy mane and two horns stood proudly on her forehead. Her lower legs turned into that of a goat, complete with hooves. She was now holding a whip in one hand and a burning pompon in the other. Small wings were folded on her back.

“A succubus! +10 to charisma and +5 to strength!” A small Asian girl shouted from the nearby table.

“I am Weeping Gargoyle!” The Akuma spoke. “I’ve been used by the one I held dear and now I’m going to get what I was denied. But first,” the creature turned to Marinette and her friends. “You! I’m going to deal with you!” 

“Frick frack I lost me…” Claude started some rhymed joke, but a fireball sailing toward them shut him up. 

Thinking quickly, Marinette flipped over the table to use it as an impromptu cover. Damian kicked the ground and a sword popped from next to his chair. Nobody had time to question how he hid it there because everyone scattered. There was nowhere to transform in all the havoc.

“What’s going on here?” Headmaster Hammer walked through the front doors to the cafeteria to see a demonic cheerleader tossing flaming pompons that exploded. “Teenagers.” He growled. From under his cloak, he drew a saber and took a battle stance. “Fiend!” He rushed at her. The whip slashed at him, but the headmaster deflected it with an incredible show of swordsmanship. This created an opening for Damian to charge from the other side. He managed to dodge the flaming ball and slice at her hand. At the last moment, the wing shielded the Akuma and his blade bounced off without leaving the slightest cut. The headmaster was met with the same fate. 

“Stupid men!” The Akuma shouted. A ring of fire exploded from her, pushing and burning both of the attackers. 

“Run.” Headmaster snapped at Damian. “I’ll hold her off.” 

“Tt. You’re old. Get to safety.” The boy snapped back.

“You’re so getting detention for this!” Hammer scowled as the two dodged their separate ways.

“Hey! The tryouts are in the gym!” A voice spoke from a hole in the roof. A spotted heroine leaped from the hole while throwing a yo-yo at the Akuma. The cheerleader shielded with her wings before flapping them and lifting from the ground. 

“You’re not who I want! I’ll get your miraculous later!” She flew through the same hole the heroine entered through. The whole cafeteria was now on fire. Ladybug met Damian’s gaze for a moment before grabbing the headmaster and jumping outside. He was in bad condition from all the smoke. 

She laid him on the ground to make sure he was okay. He coughed several times before the professor was able to speak correctly. “What about the brat!”

“I’m going in now.”

“No need.” Black Cat appeared next to them. “I got him out. We’re lucky the main doors were still working because the rooftop fell apart after I entered.” 

“Cat! The Akuma will be on her ring. It was what created all the fire.”

“Tt. Let’s go.” The two jumped away from the headmaster, who hid a small smile.

-----------

Three girls and two boys snuck around the campus. Most of the students were already evacuated, but they managed to stay undetected and remain in the action area.

“I still think we shouldn’t go after a supervillain.” Kyle tried, but Maps made a gesture that told him to stop speaking.

“Sh! I’m telling you, it was Erica. A butterfly landed on her and she suddenly transformed into that monster.”

“I read about it. It was a demon. The Lord of Butterflies sent it to take her over. If we aren’t careful, it will turn all of us into that monster.”

“Olivia? You’ve got the crossbow?”

“Please. Demon? Lord of Butterflies?” Colton criticized. “Are you sure it wasn’t just some manga?”

“Shut up! How else would you explain what happened to Erica?” Pomeline asked. “It’s obviously dark magic.”

“Okay. Assuming it is dark magic, how are we supposed to protect ourselves? I’m pretty sure I don’t have tinfoil hats on me.”

“Fool. The only thing that can protect you from the Lord of Butterflies are positive emotions.” She spoke like it was an obvious fact, yet still making it sound ominous. 

Abruptly, the wall they were hiding behind exploded, and a girl dressed in a skintight red and black outfit flew past them. A boy in assassin garb followed. He landed on his feet and started to spin a staff fast enough to create a shield. Several fireballs flew at him, but they all smashed into the shield harmlessly. 

He noticed them cowering behind the wall.

“Tt. What are you doing here!? Get away! Now!”

Ladybug jumped up and leaped from behind him, throwing her yoyo. It wrapped over the leg of the villain and pulled the flying Akuma down. Cat charged past his partner and smashed her with his baton like it was a baseball bat, sending her into the wall. 

“Lucky Charm!” The heroine tossed the yo-yo above her head and a red-and-black watermelon fell into her arms. With only a moment’s hesitation, she tossed it to Cat, who already knew what to do. Once more playing baseball, he redirected the watermelon over to the akuma. She just managed to get it together when the fruit landed on her horns and got stuck. The change of weight made her fall, which Ladybug used to dash toward her and tie her with her own whip. She then pulled the ring from her finger and crushed it in her hand. 

A purple butterfly escaped her grasp, which she caught into her yo-yo. 

“Bye Bye little butterfly.” She then grabbed the watermelon and tossed it high in the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!” 

The item exploded into a swarm of glowing bugs that fixed everything there was to fix. It looked like the supervillain never attacked. 

“What… I…” Erica was back to normal and very confused. “There was… I remember…”

“Don’t worry. The paramedics will be with you shortly.” Ladybug calmed her. There was a bit of cold in her voice, but it was probably because she just finished fighting her a moment ago.

“I told you it’s magic.” Pomeline grinned victoriously while she whispered at Colton.

“Ehm.” Suddenly, the group was startled by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them. “Mind explaining to me why are you here and not evacuated with everyone else?”

“Oh! Um… You see…” Maps started, but Pomeline was too focused on something else. “Where did you learn magic! Can you teach me?! I mean we go to school here and I want to help if Lord of Butterflies and his Demons attack again!”

“Lord of Butterflies?” Ladybug walked to them and asked, again startling the whole group.

“Yes. There was an old book in the library. I managed to decipher part of it and it spoke of the Lord of Butterflies and Demons he sent to possess people. But there is only so far a translator on my phone could take me. I’m not exactly fluent in Mandarin.”

“Can you lead us to it?” The superheroine was showing almost too much interest.

“Will you teach me magic?” Pomeline tried to bargain. 

“Tt. You will take us there or we return with the police and you will take us there.” Black Cat was not in the mood. Blackmail was the last thing he wanted right now. 

“Fine.” The girl scoffed and led them toward the library.

“How did you summon a watermelon?” The smallest girl asked zooming over to Ladybug. “Are you a summoner? I never played a summoner. They have some nice spells I suppose…”

Ladybug, against herself, giggled at the girl’s antics. She also noted in the corner of her eyes that Damian was also smiling under the hood. 

Nobody noticed when Erica slipped away.

-------

The library was large and dusty. It didn’t look like many people came here.

“It’s the old building. When Bruce Wayne funded a new library with new books, they decided to just keep the old one as an archive. Now only people that come here are us and Mr. Scarlet.”

“The new library totally had nothing to do with Damian Wayne getting expelled for the fourth time.” Colton joked and Ladybug giggled when Black Cat muttered a curse under his breath. 

“The book was in the back. I didn’t want to move it…” 

When they turned the corner, they saw a woman in a blue and purple dress standing over a book with a tablet. She was taking pictures of the pages. Her skin was blue and her hair purple. 

The group immediately pressed against the wall, and Pom pulled a handheld mirror to take a look around the corner without risk of being spotted. Meanwhile, Ladybug and Black Cat looked at one another and their faces took a serious expression. There was a kind of silent dialogue going on between them and they both nodded at the same time. In complete silence, Cat used his staff to up and meld with the shadows. Only his green eyes were visible until they too disappeared. 

Ladybug opened her Yo-Yo like a phone and took a photo of the feathered villain. She was turned to them, but even something as simple as that could be a major help. Kwami bless magical phones for making perfect pictures without a flash. 

With the proof needed, she aimed her yo-yo, spun it twice around before throwing it forward. The projectile sailed true and wrapped around her arm holding the tablet. The villainess was surprised and let go of the tool as Ladybug yanked on the line and made her opponent lose balance. That was the cue for Black Cat, who swooped from the ceiling, snatched the tablet, and leaped back into the shadows. 

“Ugh! Stupid peasants!” The Peacock cursed. Instead of freeing her hand, she allowed the fan to slip into her hand and unfolded it. She tried to pull on the yo-yo’s line and make her opponent fly to her. It worked, but Ladybug twisted mid-air and came at the villainess feet first in a kick. The blue woman had to block it, but she still held the line. The heroine used it for her advantage and flipped the line over Peacock’s neck and started to choke her. It also held her in place. Black Cat, who already deposited the tablet in a safe place, swept down and tried to grab the brooch, but he got kicked back by an angry woman, fighting for a breath. 

Peacock folded her fan and swiped at the line, cutting it and making Ladybug fall on her back. The Villainess took a deep breath and looked around to analyze her situation. She was outnumbered and the element of surprise was still on her opponents’ side. Even without the yo-yo, Ladybug was a formidable foe and she wasn’t sure who the new Black Cat was. She had a silent suspicion, but nothing solid. 

“Until we meet again, fools.” She leaped up and onto the shelves. Cat went in pursuit, but she saw the kids hidden behind one of the shelves and purposefully made it fall when she jumped onto it. The kids didn’t have enough time to scatter. Predictably, Black Cat went to save the kids. 

He pushed Maps from under the falling shelf but got stuck there himself. His suit and enhanced body could withstand it, but not his bruised ego. 

“Don’t be a grumpy cat. We’ve got her tablet.” Ladybug stood over him and grinned before helping him stand up. 

“Tt. We might have our first lead.” He grinned. 

“Let’s go check the book itself. The fact she was after it makes me think it has more value than I first suspected.”

----------------

Masterlist // Next

[mcfanely]

I just thought of something, it's after the whole mess in the never realm. The ninja made a live appearance at a event. Lloyd is making a speech, with the others pitching in every once and awhile. All of them except Cole, who is standing next to Zane scanning the crowd. When a shot rings out, Cole was already moving to intercept. The bullet was supposed to hit Lloyd but missed and was headed straight for Zane. Cole can only think of protecting Zane. Protecting his Emperor. So Cole moves infront

I love this idea so much, and I think this idea would hit a lot harder if its been a while since the Never-Realm! Like, talks have been had, recovery is well on its way and everyone is doing well. There have been no nightmares, no unusual behaviour, it's all just been a solidly good few months and Cole and Zane are thoroughly back. Not saying they aren't effected by their time in the Never-Realm, things like that don't just disappear. But they're coping, they can openly talk about it and they've come to the agreement that it wasn't them. That it was Vex.

Horrible things might have happened by their hands, but they weren't controlling it. In the end, it was always Vex, and the knowledge that they'd never willing choose to do what they did shows that they were both victims of a man's revenge.

Sure, maybe Cole is a little quiet, but give him something good to talk about and that boy can rant.

Zane may be tentative about his powers, but his wariness has only granted him so much more control over his ice. He can weave fractals together like a spool of wool on a loom; tiny fragile threads of his element stitching together in such a beautiful and precise show of control? Then in a second, Zane can harden it into a barrier. Create an impassable field of shards of floating ice. Ice spikes aren't exactly his go-to.

So seeing this instinct drawn out of them? When this person attacks, using a public show of unity and strength as a way to get close to the ninja? To the ones that had protected and saved so many people, who consistently are on the front line with everything thay goes wrong?

It's no surprise that they both revert back to a mental space where they had to be alert at any given second should they be attacked.

Cole gets a feeling of impending doom before anything even happens. His body tenses, his eyes start moving over each individual face in the crowd. Zane picks up on Cole's wariness too, but with a careful hand onto the Earth Masters shoulder and that is usually the end of it.

Cole doesn't relax.

Then he's moving before the shot even rings out. All he had to hear was a click of a weapon, a single carefully held breath in the crowd and that's enough for him to step in front of Zane. In front of Lloyd too. Cole gripped the sleeve of his green gi as if being ready to jerk him out of the way.

He barely feels the crossbow bolt clipping through his left shoulder from the back. The pain doesn't register. But Cole sees the way that Zane's eyes go blank in less than a second, his expression dropping away to something that he hadn't seen since the frozen wasteland of the Never-Realm.

Cole sees the Ice Emperor in his brothers gaze, in the way he now holds himself. That's all he needs in order to act himself. He tears away from his brothers, off the stage, down into the dispersed audience towards the single person who still hadn't lowered his crossbow.

It's easy to know who to attack.

It's easy to get the person on the floor, easy to rip the weapon from their grasp, it's so easy for the growl to escape his throat and for his single blue eye to flare with a dangerously bright and etherial glow. White hair droops down over his face, gaze set resolutely on the terrified person pinned to the ground.

It's over when ice gradually starts to creep up from the ground. It may have been a warm day but these see-through spikes of ice pinning the persons limbs down and preventing them from running away until the can properly be detained. Frost is littered around the venue, Cole breath is chilled and fogging with each ragged breath.

Everyone breaks out of their stupor and looks to Zane, who's still staring at the scene with an impassive and almost detached expression.

There are quiet commendations at the Ice Ninjas quick thinking, summoning his element to prevent the person from doing any more damage.

Cole eventually gets up, blinking away the numbed fog that had encased his mind as he gradually comes back to the present. He had Nya's hand around his forearm as a way to ground him, Kai's warm presence just off to one side as they deal with the attacker and ensure that their two currently distant brothers are going to be okay.

Cole just nods when prompted, he mentions the injury to his shoulder. Though he slips his hands under his arms as if he trying to close in on himself.

In reality, Cole's hiding the dusting of frost that had begun spreading over his skin.

[alarawriting]

52 Project #33: Amaldis

Yikes, I completely forgot to post this! Hard day at work. -------------------------------------------

The prince was young and handsome, as they all were, with the sort of arrogant good looks that wealth and power almost always brought.  It was a tragedy that so many of these young men had to die, the old woman thought.  Such a waste. She stepped out into the road, into the pathway of his horse.

The horse reared up as the prince pulled on the reins.  "Out of my way, old woman!"  he shouted.

"Are you going to the capital?"  the woman asked.  She was over 40, but well-fed, clean and well-dressed.  His eyes flickered over her, as if trying to decide her station.

"Yes.  What business is it of yours?"

"Have you come to join? To swear allegiance to the sorceress Amaldis?"

"No."  The prince's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword as fury darkened his features.  "I've come to kill the witch."

"Are you a fool, young man?"  The woman's eyes blazed, and she stepped up to his horse, glaring up at him.  "Threescore young men, brave and noble, have come to Cythia to kill the sorceress, and all of them have died.  Are you so arrogant and foolish as to believe you'll succeed where so many have failed?"

"I don't fear the witch's sorcery,"  the prince said firmly.  "I have a good sword and a trusty mount.  That's all I need."

"Oh, you are a fool.  A younger son? Expendable? You need to do something impossible, to make a name for yourself?"

"She stole lands that belong to my father!"  he shouted, his face purpling.  "My family's honor is at stake!"

"And so you'll die for your family's honor."

"If I die, at least I'll die in glory."

"Glory?" There was cold fury in the woman's voice.  "Let me tell you what glory is, boy.  Glory is a corpse rotting in a field, the crows plucking its eyes.  Glory is your lover weeping, knowing her man will never come home.  Glory is children bereft of fathers, crops burning, women raped, people enslaved.  I spit on your glory."  And she did, spitting on his boots.

The prince drew his sword, provoked beyond endurance, and swung it to behead the woman.  But she wasn't there.  Startled, he looked about himself, trying to find her.

The ground rumbled. The trees lining the road shed leaves in a storm of colors, and the earth began to shake.  The prince's horse reared up in terror, and tried to run, paying no heed when the prince pulled at the reins.  Then a chasm opened at the horse's feet, and horse and prince tumbled in together, screaming.

The chasm closed, and all was normal again.  Except for hoofprints that led to the midst of a meadow and vanished, it was as if the horse and rider had never been.

***

The scene vanished from the focusing crystal as the woman leaned back.  Her apprentice, Joraine, asked, "Did you have to kill him?"

Amaldis turned.  She was a stout woman of peasant stock, appearing to be a well-cared-for dowager of over 40 or so, with wavy black hair and blazing black eyes.  The fire in those eyes died slightly, to be replaced by sorrow, as she spoke.

"Sometimes it can be avoided,"  she told Joraine, a large-boned woman in her late twenties or early thirties. "But not this time.  You heard him.  I tried to get him to turn back, but no.  He was bound and determined to die gloriously."

"It seems so cruel,"  Joraine said. "All these brave young men, in the prime of their lives..."

"Yes.  It is cruel, and a waste.  But it's them or us.  If they had their way, they would make you a serf; condemn you to backbreaking labor all your life, with only the bare necessities of life in return.  Some would demand the right to rape you on your wedding night, or whenever you took their fancy; others would allow their priests to torture you for refusing to spout their doctrines; still others would conscript your sons to die in their wars."  Amaldis shook her head.  "Sooner or later, a group of these young heroes will come together and raise a truly massive army, perhaps a thousand men or more.  That will be tragic.  Because my powers won't be enough to hold them off entirely; and our people will have to fight and die."

"Why do they keep coming if you keep killing them?"

"You heard the one just now.  Honor and glory are worth more than their lives, and they think we stole their land."

"We did steal their land."

"Who gave them the right to own it?"  Amaldis looked hard at Joraine, and some of the fire came back to her eyes.  "We asked people if they wanted to be ruled by lords, or if they wanted to rule themselves.  They wanted to rule themselves, so we extended the borders of Cythia to their areas and let them.  As far as I'm concerned, the land belongs to the people who work it, not the nobles who get fat off it."

"Yes, but I'm saying, from their point of view we stole it."

"Yes.  And so they'll never leave us alone."  She sighed.  "That's why I want you a master sorceress as soon as possible, Joraine. Our defenses are strong, but they all rest on me, and I'm only one woman.  The most powerful sorceress in the world will still die if someone gets close enough to put a crossbow bolt through her throat."

"We have a militia, Amaldis.  They'd die to defend you, and so would I.  Anybody in Cythia would-- all of us love you."

"But everyone else in the world is trying to kill me."

"Don't talk like that!"  Joraine got up, distressed, and looked down at Amaldis.  "Remember the First Rule? 'When a magician and a swordsman fight, the magician will always win, provided she is smarter.' You're certainly smarter."

"Amend that rule. 'Provided she is smarter and makes no mistakes.' I'm 200 years old, Joraine, and I'm tired of being paranoid. I'm tired of constantly scanning to see if anyone is after me.  But I can never stop, because if I die, Cythia dies with me.  Unless you can protect it."

"I'm only 35," Joraine said quietly. "You've got 8 score more years of power built up in you.  Even when I turn master in a few years, I won't have nearly the power you do." She walked around to Amaldis and put her arms around her mentor's shoulders.  "Is something wrong?"

"Yes..." Amaldis stared into space. "I've had a premonition."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. Something terrible.  I don't know..."

Abruptly, awkwardly, Joraine hugged Amaldis.  "I won't let it,"  she whispered fiercely.  "Nothing's going to happen to you, so long as I have breath in my body to prevent it. You're the only mother I ever had, Amaldis, and I won't let you die."

***

Mor rode through the fields and woods of Cythia, heading steadily for the capital.

He was a big, brawny, barbarian type, proficient in any weapon but best with his broadsword, which was unbelievably large.  He came from a country many, many miles away, where he had successfully killed over a dozen magic-wielders.  He had also been offered the position of heir to the kingdom of Lowellan, if he could kill the sorceress Amaldis.  And he had no doubts about his ability to do so.

All this Amaldis could gather just from watching him through the focusing crystal.  It had been three days since the last prince had come, and she'd dispatched him; three days since she'd told Joraine about her premonition. A chill went down her spine, watching Mor ride.  Something about his aura frightened her terribly.  A dangerous man, moreso than any of the others.  She was tempted to kill him now, without even trying to persuade him to turn back.  But she had vowed she would always give them a chance.

So she focused herself, and appeared as an astral image, as solid as flesh but less real, standing in front of his horse's path.  The horse didn't even slow down.  It kept trotting on as if it would run her down, and Mor made no attempt to stop it.

Hastily she stepped back from its path.  If it went through her, it would do her no harm-- but it would reveal her as an illusion. "Will you stop, Mor, and listen to what I have to say?"  she said.

"There is nothing I need to hear from old women,"  he said.

Well.  That settled it, then.  She had given him a chance, and he had spit in her face.  

Amaldis came back to herself, letting her astral image vanish.  She looked deep into the crystal, focused, and spoke a Word.  It resonated in the air around her.  The resonation through the crystal was even greater.  There, the Word whipped the trees and caused the ground to shake.

Mor's mount stood firm, holding in one place as Mor stroked its head.  When the chasm started to open, the horse bolted as fast as it could go in the opposite direction, which happened to be the direction of the city. The chasm stopped widening before it could catch up to the fleeing beast, the power of the Word spent, and Mor and his animal made all possible speed for the city.

Amaldis threw another chasm in their way.  They leapt it, outran its expansion, and kept going.  She summoned demonic familiars and hobgoblins to waylay them.  Mor slew them all.  She cast illusions, which Mor paid little to no attention to; she summoned elementals, which Mor defeated; and she threw murderous obstacles in his path, which he destroyed, overcame, or bypassed.  Amaldis had never seen anything like it.  The man was at the outskirts of the city already, and still moving.  Nothing magical had done more than slow him, and she was exhausted from rapid spellcasting.

Grieving in her heart, she called for a messenger, and told him to tell the militia about the threat. Good men and women would die at Mor's hands, she knew, and if it were merely her own life at stake, she would gladly die in their place.  But she was founder, governor and defender of Cythia.  Without her, morale would be destroyed, the government would become unstable, and Cythia would be wide open and vulnerable to whatever conqueror wanted to take it.  

In her crystal, she watched as the militia went forth.  Then she began preparing for the possibility that Mor would reach her.  She set up some powerful and terrible binding spells, summoned a few invincible creatures from the lower planes, and set them to guard her door.  Then she sent a messenger to Joraine.

"Tell her I want her to go to the belltower and prepare a Spell of Unbinding of Truths," she told the messenger. "When it's complete, I'll examine it."  This particular spell took several hours to complete, and required its caster's full attention.  Joraine had been telling the truth, 3 days ago-- she would even sacrifice her own life to preserve Amaldis'.  Which would leave Cythia without a sorceress, if both of them were killed.  Joraine had to be tricked into leaving the battlefield before the fight began.

That done, Amaldis turned to watch the battle in her crystal.

The militia were getting decimated.  Amaldis sucked in her breath.  How was this possible? Few of them were very good swordsmen, and Mor was the best of the best, yes.  But still. It was impossible that one man could be doing such damage, and taking so little in return.  One man, and not a magic-user at that.  It wasn't even an enchanted blade he held-- Mor's contempt for magic was legendary.  Without assistance from magic, it was just not conceivable that one man, no matter how skilled, could cut his way through an army, no matter how green.  And yet Mor was doing it.

He had to be getting some sort of secret assistance. Amaldis focused in, looking for an invisible familiar, an enchanted item, something.  There was nothing so obvious.  If he had magical assistance, it was subtle and ran very deep.  Sick at heart, Amaldis forced herself to watch the slaughter of her people.  Here is your noble glory, all you young heroes. Here is what you wanted!

When she felt strong enough, she struck again, after sending a messenger ordering the decimated remains of the militia to retreat.  It looked as if Mor would pursue them, and continue the combat until they were all dead, but he changed his mind when she called a thunderstorm down on him, as if remembering that she was his real opponent.

She rained lightning at him, but somehow, impossibly, he always managed to avoid them, fortuitiously moving at the same split-second she initiated the bolt.  As he headed deeper and deeper into the city, people fled, knowing from the stormcloud that their governor was trying to stop the man, and failing.  Amaldis sent all sorts of creatures at him.  He killed them all, and kept coming.  Even when one of her creatures managed to kill his horse, he leapt off the beast and kept coming.

If he were not in her city, she could swallow him with a chasm now, or put a ring of fire around him-- without his horse, he was more vulnerable.  But this was her place, and she couldn't cause such damage to it. She notified the palace guard that he was coming, hoping desperately that he would be tired from the constant fighting, and easier to take down.  She had given the guard strict instructions that if casualties were too heavy, they were to flee.  But she didn't truly believe they would obey.  

The palace guard met and fought Mor.  He was still impossibly skilled-- his battles seemed to have barely blunted his edge. Again, Amaldis scanned him for magic, and this time she did catch a faint whiff.  Quickly she focused her probe, sweeping him up and down, but at this range it still eluded her.  When he got closer, perhaps she would be able to find it, and negate it; but of course, when he got closer she would have other things to worry about.

She began to scream into the crystal, ordering the guard to retreat, as Mor destroyed them.  She appeared to them astrally, pleading with them to run and save themselves, but they ignored her.  Mor was only a swordsman-- they should be able to take him down.  The fact that they obviously couldn't meant nothing, when it was honor at stake.  Tears burned in her eyes.  How many more good people would die for honor's damnable sake?

Now nearly all her guard were dead.  Amaldis steeled herself.  He was coming this way.  One way or another, even if he kills me, he won't live to enjoy his victory.

Then the door slammed open, and slammed shut behind as Mor strode into Amaldis's chamber.

"Time for you to die, witch,"  he said, advancing on her.

Amaldis released the demon guard.  Invincible and tireless, the two launched themselves at him, battering him.  The air rang with the clash of his sword on their metallic armor.  While he was occupied with that, Amaldis searched him magically-- and finally found what she was looking for.  There was a magical luck charm on him, cast before his birth, woven throughout his entire being.  He had never failed at anything.  And there was no way to remove the charm, not without negating her own power.

At this point, Mor defeated the invincible demons by thrusting his sword's point into their mouths. That shouldn't have killed them. But by now, Amaldis knew that the universe was on Mor's side.  If an improbable occurrence was necessary for his survival, it would happen.  If an impossible occurrence, even, was necessary, it would happen.

How could she defeat someone like that?

She spoke a Word, to activate a binding spell.  He hated magic so much-- if she could make him see that he was using magic, perhaps he could renounce the spell, or perhaps he would leave her alone.  It was not very likely, but the only other alternative was to negate all magic, and that would destroy her power, too.  The spell caught Mor tight, holding him motionless. He struggled against the spell, as Amaldis spoke coldly.  "You have such contempt for magic.  But you yourself are a magic-user, Mor of Savann."

"You lie, witch," he grated out.

"No lie.  How do you think it's possible that one lone man can kill over 50? That you miraculously survived everything I attacked you with? It's impossible.  No one else has gotten even as far as the city, much less the palace, except for you--"

She sensed the bonds shattering before it happened.  Somehow, he had broken her binding spell by flexing his muscles.  That's not possible! Amaldis thought, and then remembered that Mor's luck charm could do the impossible.  She leapt out of the way as he grasped his sword and swung it at her.

Amaldis cried a Word of power, and a bolt of light flashed out from her fingertips-- but he dodged. The laws of reality seemed to be breaking down to accomodate him.  She threw up a magical shield, and his broadsword cut it in half.  That wasn't possible, either.

Amend the rule, she thought, gasping, as she dodged another broadsword swing at her head.  The magician will always win, provided the sword-wielding barbarian doesn't have magic of his own.  It was getting harder to dodge, and there were fewer places to dodge to.  Amaldis truly understood then that no magic could stop him.  Even a sudden death spell would unravel against the luck charm placed on him. There was only one thing that could possibly work, and the notion filled her with horror.

There was a secret spell, jealously guarded by the few magicians who knew it.  It was a last-resort weapon in magical combat, intended to take one's enemy down with one.  The secret spell consisted of a single spoken Word, which could negate all magic within a certain radius.  Mor was certainly within that radius.  Unfortunately, by definition, so was the caster-- which was why it was a weapon of last resort.  Amaldis had built up a great deal of power in 200 years.  If she negated Mor's advantage, she lost all of that power, which might end up dooming Cythia as surely as if she died.  And without her magic, she would be no match for him in combat anyway.

The sword smashed her crystal, scattering pieces everywhere, as she ducked behind it.  Then there was a wall at her back, and nowhere to dodge to. Terror gripped her-- this was it. Only one chance-- and even that was more likely to see her avenged than saved.  But it would be enough to be avenged, if that was all she could have.

She said the Word.

The magic drained out of the air.  Amaldis sagged against the wall, feeling suddenly a thousand years old.  For the first time, she could hear the pounding on the door, and realized it had been going on for some time.  

Mor hesitated.  He had sensed the change, apparently, though doubtless he couldn't understand what it signified.  In that moment of hesitation, Amaldis flung herself to the side, and so when the broadsword came down it pierced through her shoulder, slicing away her arm, not her head.  Amaldis screamed.

The door slammed open behind Mor, and there was a flash of light.  Mor dropped, an expression of disbelief on his face.  With rapidly glazing eyes, Amaldis saw through the pain that Joraine was running toward her.  Then it became too dark to see anymore.

***

Amaldis wakened to the sound of Joraine weeping.  "It can't be too late,"  Joraine was saying.  "Come on, heal, Amaldis, heal! Please!"

Amaldis swallowed, and croaked in a hoarse voice, "I seem not to be dead.  How surprising."

"You're back!" Joraine wiped her eyes and looked at Amaldis.  "I brought you back! Oh thank you, Goddess, thank you, thank you..." She hugged Amaldis and began to weep again, this time for joy.

But as memory filtered back, Amaldis could see little cause to be joyful.  She was alive, yes, and Mor was dead...  but the cost had been her power.  The only defense Cythia had had to keep it from a bloody war, and being overrun and conquered, had been her power.  And now it was gone.

Tears welled in her eyes. After all her hard work, all the energy and enthusiasm her people had expended to make her dream a reality, one man with a magic charm could bring it all crashing down.  What was the point to living, if her dream was dead? In a voice like ash, she said, "Joraine, my powers..."

Joraine lifted her head and looked down at her.  "I know. I know."

"Cythia is finished."  There was no strength, no life in her voice, just ruins and despair.

"No-- there's a way. There has to be a way."

"That's wishful thinking.  " Amaldis changed the subject. "How did you find me? I told you to prepare a Spell of Unbinding..."

"The guard-- what was left of it-- broke in and told me you were fighting with that creature." Joraine's voice had an edge of fury to it.  "I couldn't get the door open, at first--"

"His luck charm. It must have kept the door locked."

"When I got it open and saw he'd cut off your arm-- I almost went berserk.  But it's all right now.  I healed you.  Your arm's fine."

"My arm's irrelevant, Joraine.  My magic is gone.  Without that..."

"No! We can buy time. We can keep going on a bluff for a while.  I won't let your dream die like this!"

"Buy time for what?"  Amaldis wanted to be swept away by Joraine's youthful determination, but 200 years of experience had told her that when something was doomed, it was doomed. There was nothing they could do. "It'll be another hundred years before you're powerful enough to defend Cythia by yourself..."

"Then we can't rely so much on magic.  We need to find other solutions."  Joraine got up off the bed.  "We can buy time, like I said.  And in that time, we can recruit more people.  We can train all our citizens to fight and defend the country if they have to. We can try to recruit another magician. If we could get two or three magicians my age, we could all band together.  Besides.  Once people hear you killed Mor, they won't be eager to try you for some time.  No one needs to know you're injured-- and as long as they send in their heroes one at a time, we can pick them off ourselves, the militia and I.  We can send emissaries to other countries, and see if they have superior weapons or magical techniques we can use.  There are all sorts of things we can try, Amaldis.  You can't give up!"

"I'm old," Amaldis said softly.  "I had a dream once, a revolutionary new idea, when I was young.  But I'm no revolutionary anymore."

"You can't give up--"

"No.  I'm not giving up.  I'm passing the torch to you."  Amaldis forced herself to a sitting position.  The change made her dizzy and she swayed.  Joraine quickly moved to prop pillows behind her. "You're right, of course. I'll continue to govern Cythia and to teach you magic-- I still know the techniques, I simply haven't got the power for them anymore.  But you'll be in charge of devising our defense, Joraine.  You're young and creative enough to see new ways of doing things.  I can't anymore."

"I don't think you're as old and decrepit as you think you are, Amaldis,"  Joraine said.  "Is this because you lost your magic?"

"Yesterday, for all my years, I was a young woman.  Today I feel older than time itself.  It has to be you, Joraine.  I-- lost something vital when I lost my power, I think.  Cythia's future is going to rest on you."

"You should rest," Joraine said, moving the pillows back so Amaldis could lay down.  "Go to sleep.  You'll feel better when you're recovered."

"I doubt it," Amaldis said softly, but allowed Joraine to put her to bed.  The last thing she saw, through slitted eyes near the edge of sleep, was Joraine sitting by her bed.  Her face seemed to Amaldis to look like her own had, when she was only thirty and had grandiose dreams for saving the world.  Yes.  The torch was in capable hands.  

Amaldis slept.

[audreyandherocs]

Thea's Cave: Chapter 5

<Previous Chapter>

“You don’t have a communicator?!”

“Tommy, tommy, I literally woke up in the world just…I don’t know how long actually?” said Thea, her face scrunching at the realization that she didn’t keep count. “Wait, what’s a communicator?”

Tubbo trotted up to her and pulled out his communicator, showing it to her. “We use these to call and keep into contact with people. Also other things like if people get despawned or something.”

“Ohhhh, yeah definitely don’t have that. If I did, then I would’ve known there were other people around.”

“This is unacceptable! We got to get you one now, or how else are you going to need help from Tubbo and I!” yelled Tommy as if it was a crime.

Thea folded her arms together and human, leaning slightly against her wall. Her newly acquired bees were buzzing around which was a great delight to Tubbo.

“I mean, I’m close to L’manberg to book for it” noted Thea but the boys didn’t notice it. They were going in and out of the house, exploring everywhere as Thea just snorted at their antics but kept on working and learning.

She had a crossbow, snatched from the pillagers all those time ago, and apparently, she could shoot fireworks out of it. She had planned to experiment more with the fireworks but that plan went out of the window when the boys came.

It had been only three days since she met these boys and she already knew, they were chaotic and would need supervision when they were handling TnT. So, she had gone out and looked for some animals, Tommy enthusiastically helping her round up cows and chickens, and bees by an enthusiastic Tubbo. Thea found some sheep and now she was just tending to them and the farmland.

“HEY THEA,” yelled Tommy from the balcony as she turned to him nonchalantly, “WHERE ARE YOUR GUEST BEDROOMS?!”

“I DON’T HAVE ANY!” she yelled back and turned to her planning potatoes.

“WHAT?! WHY!?”

“WHY WOULD I?!” she yelled back a question, before snorting. There was someone jumping off and Thea turned back to see Tommy and Tubbo parkouring off the balcony and rushing towards her.

“So we can sleep over!”

Thea stood up and dusted off her pants, noting absentmindedly that she should get new clothes.

“If you guys do, just set a bed somewhere in the bedroom, I don’t care. I got wool and dye, just mark which is which and mind my stuff.”

Tommy and Tubbo beamed and dashed off as Thea realized she had just given the two permission to set their place. Thea shrugged as she heard the two boys in her home yelling about something and as she collected honey, she felt another presence.

She turned to it, seeing Wilbur walking down her little path. His eyes met hers and Thea instinctively waved her hand to greet him, smiling as she did.

“Hello Mr. President” she said as Wilbur gave a smile.

“Thea, I see you got a house now” he said, hands folded behind his back and head turning around to take in the place.

“Yeah, don’t need much sleep and got it done” said Thea as she put away her honey. “Here on some official business?”

“Something like that but it’s nothing right now. Tommy had mentioned a few things and I had some time so I thought I would come check it out.”

Thea hummed and nodded. Her eyes focused on Wilbur’s face, taking his features in before noting how skinny he was. Even if he was tall, he looked to be pushed thin from exhaustion and lack of management. Although his eyes were not focused on her, she could see the tiredness and the bubbling madness that was threatening to burst.

She didn’t want to think why the madness was there, but she guessed it had to do with elections and politics. It always did a number on people, one way or another.

Thea gestured to her home and smiled, “Well, would you like to come in for some tea? It’ll be nice to get to know you more.”

Wilbur jumped in surprise, eyes wide.

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“I want to” said Thea, placing a hand on his arm but just above hovering. An open invitation but not one of force.

Wilbur looked at her and his posture relaxed, giving her a small smile. “That would nice, thank you.”

Thea grinned and guided Wilbur to her home. “Tommy and Tubbo are here already so what’s one more?”

Wilbur was led into her home and was immediately hit with the smell of food. His mouth watered at the smell and he then wondered when he last ate. He took another whiff and knew it was stew with freshly baked bread mixed in it. The door was opened, allowing the smell of flowers waft in.

He looked past the smell of food and he found himself standing in the room. He saw furnaces and her crafting station to one side of the home, where nearby were piles of chests and barrels. A weaving station was another part of the home with a chest bit it. There was a table with chairs surrounding it, on top of it with a nicely placed cactus.

There were two entrances, one leading up to the balcony and one leading down to the basement.

There was thumping upstairs and Wilbur instantly recognized Tommy’s and Tubbo’s voices. There were also sounds of barks and remembered Lupa and Fenrir.

Wilbur heard clattering as he turned to see Thea walking from her ‘kitchen’ and to the table. He politely walked over and sat in a chair as Thea sat opposite of him. She served the tea, him politely saying thank you before the two sat there with their tea and snacks.

There were a tense few awkward seconds before Thea felt the need to break the ice. “So, how are things?”

Wilbur chuckled nervously, lowering his cup. “I’ve been busy, with the election coming up and work to be done.”

Thea politely nodded, “Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“Excuse me?”

Thea took a sip before speaking. “One cannot take care of others if they cannot take care of themselves.”

Wilbur stared at her bewildered as Thea elaborated, “I get it, being president is stressful and there are ton of things to do and think about. But you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be able to take care of anyone else; much less a country.”

The man in front of her ran a hand through his hair, resting his arms on the table. “You do make sense, but there’s a lot you don’t know. From the start, we fought for our freedom and our country but then once it was over, my control on the country has been slipping. Losing this election would make our effort for naught.”

Thea let him speak on and on, silently encouraging Wilbur to drink and eat the snacks. Soon they were finished as Wilbur sighed, leaning against his chair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t plan on-“

“I’m a new person, I literally know nothing or anyone else. With the election soon, whatever you say to me won’t matter either way, I won’t be able to influence any changes and it’ll be nothing once it’s over” cut in Thea, “So, don’t worry about it.”

Wilbur stared at her bewildered and he was only met with a straight-face. It was only a few moments pasted that Thea realized what she had said and her face was covered with her hands.

“Sorryyyyyyy, totally uncalled for” she groaned out.

Wilbur chuckled, “I didn’t expect you would say something like that.”

Thea removed her hands and she had a disgruntled face, “10 years of basically off the grid will mess with your social skills. Though, I haven’t considered myself to be particularly charismatic.”

Wilbur chuckled and took a sip of his remaining tea. Thea lowered her hands, about to speak when the tell-tale sign of Tommy yelling was heard.

“THEA!”

The aforementioned person stood up in her chair in a panic, eyes wide and body stiff with attention. She looked to the stairway and so did Wilbur. Tommy and Tubbo barreled down the stairway, holding her sketchbook in hand. They ran up to her and held out the open pages.

“I didn’t know you could draw!”

Thea relaxed, giving a huge sigh of relief and fell back into her chair. She had a hand on her face as she gave a nervous laughter. “Don’t scare me like that, I thought the worst-“

“Yeah, yeah-“ cut in Tommy before placing the sketchbook down on her table and flipped it with Tubbo and Wilbur looking with interest. “These are so pog, why don’t you show them more?!”

“Tommy, I will say this again and again. I literally woke up after god knows how long, I had other priorities. I haven’t exactly had time to paint either.”

“If we win the election, will you draw portraits of Wilbur and I?!”

Wilbur placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, scolding him. “Tommy, you can’t just ask her to-“

“Sure.”

They all looked at Thea who had a thoughtful look on her face, her arms crossed and back leaning against the chair. She had a thoughtful expression before she smiled at them. “But don’t get your hopes up though. It’s been years-“

“Wait, really?” gaped Wilbur.

Thea shrugged. “On any other circumstances, no. But, it has been years since I’ve properly drawn anything. At the end of it, it would be a great exercise and practice. Not to mention,” her eyes softened. “It’ll help solidify the fact that I’ve met people and interacted with them. That I was here.”

Wilbur looked at her with surprise as Tommy cheered. Tubbo tried to ask if he was included too which Thea confirmed that he too would be included. The two boys were chattering and bouncing off ideas to Thea who hummed and gave her honest opinions. Reminding them not to get too attached.

Wilbur had a small feeling of warmth in his chest and he didn’t know why. He was about to pull Tommy and Tubbo away for over-staying her hospitality when there was a large growl.

Everyone turned to Wilbur, whose ears turned red and Tommy gawfed, ready to make fun of the president when his own stomach betrayed him. It was Tommy’s turn for his ears to turn red and Tubbo was about to laugh and it started a domino effect.

Thea choked a bit before she let out a laugh, wheezing and everyone turned to her as she was slamming her hand on the table and knee, before keeling over and continued to laugh. They all watched in awe and concern as the girl continued to laugh and fall onto the ground, holding her stomach.

“What are the odds- HOLY COW” choked out Thea in laughter as she struggled to get back on her feet. “I…the ODDS!”

Tommy gawked at her and started to protest. “Hey, hey, stop laughing!-“

Thea snorted as she shakily made her way to the kitchen. “I…I’m going to get… *SNORT* Just sit down, I got it-“ she continued to laugh, forcing herself to stop as she slammed her head against the wall to force herself to stop.

Tubbo giggled before he went to help Thea who was wobbling due to the lack of oxygen.

Wilbur ran a hand over his neck bashfully as Tommy groaned, muttering to himself. Soon, they were all gathered around the table as plates of food were offered. They all dug into the soup, bread, and meats that were offered.

All three of them dug into their food and Thea couldn’t help feel that her suspicions were right on that they weren’t really taking care of themselves. She absently mindedly noted to keep her food stores stocked in case these shared meals were going to be frequent.

As dinner was wrapped up, Thea asked Tommy and Tubbo to help feed her wolves and check on the farm. The two eagerly dashed away from escaping dish washing duties. Wilbur rolled up his sleeves and politely helped Thea clean up the table and take them to the kitchen.

Thea washed the dishes after thanking Wilbur, offering him another cup of tea. The man leaned against the nearest window seat, watching outside where he saw Tommy and Tubbo running around outside, partly doing Thea’s request while also playing. Fenrir and Lupa accompanying them.

Everything was peaceful and Wilbur didn’t know when he last felt so close to contentment. At peace. His eyes were tired and he quietly realized he wasn’t taking care of himself.

He sipped his tea when he heard a soft melody. His ears prickled at the noise, his musician side of him instantly intrigued.

He found his legs walking quietly towards the source of the music and over the corner, he saw and heard Thea singing. It wasn’t a full song nor was it perfect. It was a mixture of singing of lyrics and hums when she didn’t remember it. Her voice cracked every so often but Wilbur knew those were from the lack of warm-up.

Wilbur found himself drifting off, eyes closing to focus on the singing and then there was peace for a moment.

Thea had finished washing up and walked out of the kitchen, drying her hands as she did. She went to check on Wilbur, half-expecting him to have walked back to L’manburg with the boys.

Instead, she saw Wilbur slumped against the nearest place. She stiffened and checked on him, noticing his eyes were closed, with soft breaths rhythmically. The teacup loosely wrapped in his hands that threatened to spill if any more loose.

She stared at Wilbur, bewildered on how he was sleeping there before she thought what to do next. Waking him up was definitely out of the question, remembering how tired he was, and begun to think if she could move him.

She looked at her hands, flexing them as if it would tell her how strong she was.

A moment and two passed before she took in a deep breath and further rolled her sleeve up. She bent down and took the cup away, moving it to the side somewhere before slipping her hands under him.

She paused, readying herself, before slowly but surely lifted Wilbur. He was much, much longer then she was, so she had to balance him while her arms strained. She held him up for a moment, seeing if he would wake up but the soft snores reassured her.

Sighing in her mind, Thea walked to the stairway, just as Tommy and Tubbo had come in. They looked at her bewildered, mouths wide open with shock. She ignored them, figuring they would follow her or stay there. She didn’t care as she had bigger problems.

She reached the bedroom floor, noting the green and red beds already there with her pink one. She went to her pink bed, carefully depositing Wilbur into it and drew the blanket, tucking him. The person now occupying her bed was unaware and undisturbed. If anything, he snuggled further, sighing in content.

Thea smiled and had her hands on her hips, taking a moment to breathe. She could lift someone to bed, but barely.

She turned to the stairway to talk with Tommy and Tubbo, but saw their heads peeking out of the stairway. She rose an eyebrow but gestured to their beds, hoping they got her question.

They all nodded and quietly but quickly made their way to their beds, taking off their outer clothes and armor before slipping in. Thea hummed, checking on them if they were settled (while absentmindedly tucking them in further and patting their heads) before closing her home.

When she was sure the place was secure, her wolves followed her as she took off her armour and placed a blue bed near the others and slipped into bed. Her wolves cuddled around her as she sighed, eyes heavy with sleep.

She listened to the room, hearing Tubbo and Tommy’s breathes starting to settle and Wilbur’s soft snoring. Thea closed her eyes, feeling sleep pull her in. Before she let the darkness claim her, she spoke.

“Good night, sweet dreams.”

The boys muttered back quietly and Thea fell asleep, the darkness no longer silent but simply, quiet.

<Next Chapter>

[trickthecloak]

Whumptober 2020 Day 2

No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY "Pick Who Dies" | Collars | Kidnapped

Using alternate prompt 4: Shot.

Halt frowned from where he crouched by the body that was sprawled on the forest floor. The body had a puncture through the left calf - Halt himself had fired the guilty arrow. However, that wasn't the wound that had killed the man; rather, it was the rather gruesome crossbow bolt embedded in his chest that had done the man in.

"Did the others... kill him?" Gilan asked, uncomfortably wrapping his arms around himself from where he stood several meters away. Gilan had taken only one glance at the body before feeling decidedly ill, choosing to keep to his distance and more than content to let Halt do the inspecting. "I thought they were working together."

Halt shrugged and stood. "He was injured, and as such, a liability."

Gilan paled and shook his head with disgust. "That's terrible," the boy declared, absolutely sickened by the idea.

"They're efficient. No one said they were decent." Halt's brow furrowed in thought for a moment before he continued, "I'm going to follow tracks. I want you to stay here and look around. Make sure there's no second trail or sign of them splitting up."

Gilan's eyebrows shot up. "What if they come back?!" he squawked, alarm flashing across his young face as his eyes darted back to the body on the ground.

"They've killed a man and are inclined to put distance between themselves and any followers - us, in this case. If you've committed a crime, people are unlikely to return to the scene."

Gilan gnawed his lip for a moment. "I suppose," he reluctantly agreed.

"Be vigilant," Halt called before melting into the brush. Gilan watched him leave before sighing and moving to look for the tracks he knew he wouldn't find. If there had been a second set of tracks, Halt would have already found it in his inspection of the scene. His mentor had given him the assignment in order to keep him away from the more immediate threats. While the young apprentice understood the reasoning, being left alone with only a corpse for company was not the scenario he'd have chosen.

A rustle in the brush had Gilan freezing before hastily melting backwards into the cover of the nearest tree. Four men stomped into the clearing, heading towards the body in clear agitation... the body that Gilan's tree was uncomfortably close to.

"Can't believe no one remembered to grab the map to the rendezvous house," one grumbled and he roughly started feeling the pockets on the dead man. The second man rolled his eyes.

"Shut your trap. You didn't remember either."

The first man grumbled something unintelligible, but Gilan barely heard, his pulse quickening.

Rendezvous map. If Gilan could get it, he and Halt could potentially clear out a crime circle larger than they had originally accounted for.

A moment later, Gilan shook himself. He was sixteen, and map or not, pitting himself against a dangerous criminal group was a stupid idea at best. Halt would return soon enough after seeing the tracks double back, and then his teacher would form one of his brilliant strategies that usually had Gilan beaming in admiration.

Coming to this conclusion, Gilan carefully turned and stepped, intending to put more distance between himself and the men.

A mistake.

Pressed up against the tree as he'd been, Gilan's cloak had snagged on a rough, loose section of bark. As he'd pulled away, the bark had torn off with a sharp crack, his cloak becoming a ripple of movement.

The reaction was instantaneous. With a burst of shouts, the men became a flurry of movement.

Gilan bolted. Scrambling through the brush, over logs, around trees - all thought of hiding forgotten, instead fueled simply by the primal instinct to get away. A hard jab impacted his lower thigh, and his cheek was welted from a pine bough. In the young Ranger's urgent flight, these things barely registered until the voices faded. Once he was certain he was out of sight and direct line of approach to his pursuers, Gilan paused, reaching a hand down to his leg to rub the sore, bruised muscle where he had been jabbed from what must have been a tree branch.

His hand met warm and wet, and for a moment, Gilan stared in confusion as he inspected his blood covered fingers.

The adrenaline that had fueled his flight was beginning to wear off, and with a groan, Gilan attempted another step. He staggered, and the next step, his leg buckled altogether.

He hadn't run into a tree branch, Gilan realized with disbelief. He'd been shot.

The trail was doubling back, Halt realized, his gut tightening as he realized the tracks were heading back to where they had found the body.

Where he had left Gilan.

Gilan was fine, the Ranger reasoned to himself as he immediately headed back to where he had left his apprentice. The boy's talent at unseen movement was something to behold - should the men return, Gilan certainly was more than capable of keeping himself out of sight.

His anxiety lessening, Halt continued towards the scene, keeping his senses perked and searching in case his apprentice had parked himself nearby. Halt didn't find him, but the Ranger brushed it off. It was a big forest. Gilan would be around somewhere, waiting for Halt to get him.

Voices caught his attention, and Halt moved closer to where the men had gathered around the body again. They were red faced and breathing hard, and Halt raised an eyebrow. He was curious about why the men had returned, but it didn't make sense for all of them to have pushed themselves to such an extent.

That is, until Halt was able to make out their conversation. The Ranger's stomach dropped.

"That was a Ranger, I saw the cloak!"

"It was the kid. The apprentice."

"Either way, I hit him. I've got to have hit him."

Halt took a shuddering breath, forcing himself to think. They had found Gilan, and potentially injured him. However, Gilan wasn't in the hands of the men, which meant he had gotten away. Their ability with a crossbow was likely mediocre at best, and with the thick wood and Gilan's cloak working for him, there was little reason to think that his apprentice had been injured, especially with no sign of the boy having gone down.

The Ranger nodded to himself. Gilan was likely positioned some ways away, having thrown the men's scent and waiting for Halt to show and provide further instruction. The men were still conversing, most likely putting together a plan to find the apprentice who had slipped from their grasp.

It was as he skirted the perimeter that Halt saw it: a blood splatter, that continued into a dripped trail.

The Ranger set his jaw. So Gilan had been hit. Halt's only reassurance was the his apprentice had still been moving - physically able to, and mentally with it enough to have the sense to keep putting distance between himself and his pursuers.

A glance back revealed the men scattering in several directions, the hunt for their prey now in the works. Halt's face darkened. He would deal with them later.

First, he had an apprentice to find.

The blood drips lightened somewhat shortly into the trail, as if Gilan had thrown some form of compression on the offending wound; likely the field handkerchief that Halt insisted was always carried. However, other things bore testament to his apprentice's deteriorating condition. In some areas, the blood drips were smeared and streaky, as if Gilan had unsuccessfully attempted to wipe them off. The tracks themselves were growing clumsy, at one point seeming like one leg was practically dragging.

Halt stopped for a moment and leaned against the side of a large fallen log. He was desperately trying to combat the sinking feeling in his chest when he heard the quiet, breathy whisper.

"Halt?"

Halt froze, then dropped, sweet relief flooding him as his eyes met Gilan's a moment later. Careful not to jostle the boy, Halt moved in deeper to the small recess under the fallen log that his apprentice had wedged himself into. Gilan's face was pale, and when Halt touched a hand to his cheek, the skin was cool and clammy. Halt set his jaw before lightly skimming his hands over his apprentice, searching for the injury. It didn't take long to find the roughly bandaged handkerchief, and the Ranger raised his eyebrow questioningly.

Gilan closed his eyes, his face tight with pain. "Just a deep graze... but it hurts."

Halt exhaled, thankful for that small mercy. Had the crossbow bolt hit straight on... Digging into his pocket, Halt pulled out his own handkerchief. At the sight, Gilan whimpered, his face somehow managing to go a shade paler. Halt winced and ran a hand through Gilan's sweaty hair. "I have to. I'm sorry, but I have to."

As Halt pulled the handkerchief tight over the soaked one already covering the wound, Gilan bit his lip so hard it bled. Even still, he was unable to contain the gasping sobs that tore out of his throat. Tears stained the boy's cheeks, and as Halt finished, he leaned forward and drew Gilan's head against his shoulder, letting the pain ride out... wishing more than anything that he could take it and bear it himself.

Slowly, Gilan's breathing evened out, hitching only every now again, and Halt gently propped him back again. "Better?"

"I'm great," Gilan croaked, and Halt scoffed.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you. Right now, let's stick with 'better'." Halt frowned again, then continued, "I have to go take care of our ugly friends. They're out on their own little hunt, and I do believe that they have earned themselves a discussion with me. I'll be back soon. Stay put and don't die." Halt gave Gilan's shoulder a squeeze before rising out of the recess.

"Halt," Gilan said suddenly, and Halt stopped, turning a questioning look to his apprentice. "Shoot them in the left thigh."

Despite himself, the barest corner of Halt's mouth twitched.

"Of course."

[godzillaslayer101]

A Faustian Bargain

Faust I

The Peterhelm Theatre was quaint. That was the best word for it. There were around a hundred seats in the theater, some clearly meant for the enjoyment of nobility or high-ranking parents given the fine leather the chairs were fashioned with. The stage itself wasn't even that large, only able to hold up to twenty people. 

It was never meant to hold the collective student body of Chernobog, and it couldn't. It hadn't stopped Mephisto from squeezing as many people as he could for his first presentation, and it hadn't prevented him from doing it for the second time. Luckily his friend hadn't asked for any oil, but Faust was unable to relax. A sentiment shared with every other student sitting in the seats and the Reunion members standing guard at the doors and on the second floor. 

A floodlight turned on and a single person was revealed on the stage. 

"I'd like to thank you all for coming once again." Mephisto started, smiling as his green eyes raked across the room. He put his palm on his chest. "As a lover of democracy, it brings warmth to my heart that you all were able to so quickly elect a representative to bring your interests to me."

Because you threatened to flay them alive if they didn't, Mephisto. Faust thought but kept his silence from where he was hidden to Mephisto's left. His men had reported multiple incidents where the meeting room had nearly come to blows only for one of Mephisto's Possessed to pass by. It's thundering footsteps and pained howls enough to cow the children into submission. 

Faust was taken from his thoughts as Mephisto snapped his fingers. "Ursine ladies and gentlemen, give it up for your Student Council, President Natalya Andreyevna Rostova." 

Another stage light was turned on, revealing what had to be a seventeen-year-old Ursus Girl. She was dressed in a White Peterheim School uniform; she bowed to the student body. The only sign of fear was her trembling fingers. 

"I said, clap!" Mephisto shouted, saccharine voice becoming venomous. 

Thunderous applause broke out as each student tried to outdo the other. Faust still kept an eye on the students whose clapping was more restrained. The ones who could think were always the most dangerous. 

Natalya, to her credit, kept her fake smile and bowed. The clapping came to a sudden halt as Mephisto thumped the stage with his staff and inclined his head towards the new Student President. 

"Everyone, thank you for electing me as your student council president. I know these are trying times." She began with one of the biggest understatements Faust had ever heard. "But it is my belief that the Ursus student spirit is resilient and through cooperation with the Reunion Movement that we will come out of this...whirlwind of events stronger than ever. However, to do so any troubles you feel with our new teachers must be brought to me." She finished bowing once again and ceding the floor back to Eno.

Mephisto bobbed his head twice towards the poor girl, clearly pleased at her mediocre acting skills, and took back control. "Thank you for your kind words, Ms. Rostova." He began to inspect his fingernails, displaying the black veins on his hands to the whole student body. "However, there is a problem."

Natalya's smile was frozen in place, and Faust could feel the tension in the room rocket back up. He raised his crossbow up just in case.

 "You don't have any cabinet members."

What? 

Mephisto shrugged, "It's important to elect a leader, but no one man or woman is an island, but given recent events, I understand and forgive your mistake. In fact, To ease your burden a little. I've already chosen most of your cabinet. Come on out, girls."   

Faust watched as four girls walked from the back of the stage to the front. He'd assumed Mephisto wanted to make examples of them, but clearly, he had been mistaken. Two of them had been roughed up while the blue-haired one and yellow-haired one were practically curling in on themselves at the situation they had found themselves in. 

"I'd like to introduce your new Student Body General Zima and Student Body Lieutenant Leto," Mephisto said. He gestured to a brown-haired girl with red highlights in her hair and a girl wearing a uniform with yellow highlights. The Former glared at Mephisto, both her eyes bruised, and Faust resigned himself to killing her. The latter waved with her one good hand, the other kept in a makeshift cast.

Mephisto began to walk around the four girls. "These two already have quite the reputation and will be dedicated to ensuring Ms. Rostova's instructions will keep order. In fact, they'll be in charge of the fight clubs which I've heard are all the rage these days. And I do so hope they do a good job. Because if they don't, my big friends will have to take matters into their own hands, and while I'm sure they'll try their Originium ridden hearts out, they aren't the most delicate." 

 The whole student body couldn't nod fast enough. 

Mephisto came to a stop behind the yellow-haired girl. She practically leapt out of her skin when Mephisto's hand landed on her shoulder. "Well, don't be shy. I'd like the new Student Council Head Chef to introduce herself." 

"Hello everybody" The girl meekly began.

"Louder," Mephisto ordered.

"Hello everyone, my name is Lada. I'm a long time member of the Ursus Youth Scout, and I'm going to be in charge of making sure everybody remains well-fed here," The girl shouted, with the fakest cheerful voice. Everybody saw her trembling. 

"I'm sure you'll give it your all." Mephisto's piercing green eyes flicked to his side, and Faust flashed a signal to his men. 

Two bodies with bags over their heads fell from the ceiling before snapping taut as the ropes around their necks caused them to swing from side to side. 

Faust heard a few boys and girls panic, but the sounds of Crossbows being cocked and the growls of Possessed made them quiet down quickly. Faust's nose flared as he picked up the smell of urine. It was the newly appointed head chef. 

 Mephisto's smile was all teeth as he began to speak. "These two cooks were a disgrace to your school and tried to steal food from you. Since it was their first offense, they had the pleasure of dying quickly. Any other repeat offenders won't have such a luxury. And I'm sure little Lada over here is going to try her best to ensure you all stay fed. 

"I will, I promise, I promise." The girl screamed tears in her eyes.

"Good" Mephisto muttered, rolling his eyes before he moved over to the last girl in line. She was the youngest and had a hair full of blue hair. She clutched a large book to her chest. Faust's traitorous eyes briefly replaced her with a young, innocent boy with kind green eyes, and he shook his head to banish the illusion. 

"Now young Anna has a vital job. In fact, I've hadn't even told her what it is."       

  She was insurance. Zima had frozen in place, the murderous rage in her eyes being replaced by fear as soon as Mephisto walked over to the blue haired girl. 

Mephisto leaned forward like he was eager to share a secret. "She's going to be my personal assistant. School administration is such a hard job, and my talents make me more medically inclined." He turned to the newly appointed student council. "Ms. Rostova, you stay up here. All you other good girls can take your seats at the front." 

Once they were seated, he clapped his hands, the sound breaking the sudden quiet that had fallen over the room. "I know that this student council is unorthodox, but it's simply a fact we live in unorthodox times." 

Most of the positions were clearly made up, and Reunion was ransacking the city. Yes, Mephisto, that does count as unorthodox. Faust thought but once again kept to himself. 

 The theatre shook as two Possessed brought forward a chalkboard of all things. It was covered with sections of time "It might surprise you to know this, but one of our dear leaders in Reunion cares deeply about the educational welfare of the Ursus student body."

Patriot definitely hadn't had this in mind when Mephisto had gotten control of making sure the students were isolated. Faust was sure of that, but it could be worse. He glanced at just the two dead bodies still swinging from the rafters. So much worse. 

Mephisto gestured with his staff against the chalkboard. "I'll leave it to Ms. Rostova to elaborate." 

"Everyone, there will be three meals a day. All students will be scheduled into blocks that they will stay with. Lessons in Math, Arts, and Science will still be taught by the remaining faculty. However, a large portion of the day will be dedicated to physical exercise taught by Mr. Faust."

They what? Fausts couldn't stop his mouth from falling open. The girl was looking around the room, her confusion minimal to his. What was Mephisto doing? 

Mephisto sighed before walking over to where Faust was hidden under the illusion and clapped him on the shoulder.

"You'll have to forgive my friend. He's very shy." His best friend said smiling warmly at Faust. 

Faust dropped the illusion. He lowered his chin so that his face was hidden by his black sweater and raised his crossbow slightly. His friend elbowed his side, and Faust glared at him before sighing. "I will ensure all of you will be in the best physical shape possible." 

"Wonderful, Mr. Faust; I'm thankful we are in your care," Rostova said. And Faust resisted the urge to spit at her blatant flattery.

Mephisto took the praise in stride, rewarding the girl with a smile that lacked his usual malice. "Yes, Faust is...Faust is my best friend. I would have died many times over if it weren't for his wisdom and protection. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that he's the most important in the world to me...Other than big sis Talulah of course." He tacked on shocking Faust. 

"And it's because of that, that if I hear one word of any of you skipping his classes. I'll skip stripping you of your meals and go straight for flaying you alive or making you my Possessed." 

Mephisto's green eyes landed on Rostova, whose skin was almost as pale as her hair. "Am I clear?" 

"Yes, Dean Mephisto."

"Ha," Mephisto barked in laughter. "I'll leave it to the council to inform the rest of the student body of our policies going forward. Faust and I are going to set up your new lesson plans."

He turned on his heel and left. Faust hands flew through signals that ordered his men to keep him updated on the theatre situation and followed his friend out of the room. 

They walked through the schools winding hallways passing by classrooms packed with students before arriving at an office. The placard read "Nurse's office" his friend held open the door for Faust to enter, locked the door behind him, shut the blinds, hopped on the bed, and patted a spot for Faust to sit by him. 

The second Faust joined Mephisto, the white-haired Ancient sagged onto Faust's shoulder. He froze at the sudden contact. Mephisto had always been fond of doing this when they were younger, but ever since their discussion about Talulah, these moments had become fewer and fewer. 

"Go ahead, ask your questions." 

"How am I supposed to teach a bunch of kids?"

"Just teach them what the Flag Waver taught us." 

Faust stared at his friend. "You want me to teach a bunch of children, guerilla tactics." Faust was proud of the way he kept his tone neutral. It was a bad idea- no a terrible idea, but Mephisto hadn't been this open or restrained in weeks. In fact? 

"What happened, Eno" Sasha asked his best friend. 

Eno stiffened, "What do you mean?" 

"You're hardly sleeping, and when you do, you wake up screaming. And...I didn't think this was how you were going to run this lockdown." 

"You thought I was going to burn their food and leave them to fend for themselves. Let them experience an ounce of our childhood."  

Fausts silence was answer enough.

"It's tempting," Eno admitted. "But we need the students." 

Faust ran his fingers through Eno's hair. "Why?" 

"Sasha, Talulah's different." Faust froze. The words were so quiet, but they thundered in Fausts' ears all the same. "I'm a monster and a coward. But I think I'm ready to choose." 

Sasha continued to stare down at Eno, unwilling to even breathe. Was he dreaming? Was this happening? 

Eno looked up at Sasha, and Sasha couldn't even breathe at the fear within those eyes. 

"Sasha, would you leave Reunion with me?"

It was treasonous, stupid, and a thousand visions flashed through Sasha's mind of them dying horribly. 

But...But they had promised each other to suffer through life at each other's side, and for the first time in a long while, it didn't hurt to follow that promise. 

[thywanderer]

Fallen Star (Chapter 1 excerpt)

Hello everyone! I’ve been working on a Tangled AU fanfic lately and I thought I’d share some of it here! This is an excerpt from the first chapter. Not ready to post the full chapter just yet, but I should be soon! 

For the story, this will be a Moon!Varian based AU with a few other ideas I had of what could have been a part of the show. The story centers around Varian and my oc, takes place in season 3 right after Rapunzel’s Return, and diverges from canon from there. So there will be major changes from season 3 in this story. Changes that I hope everyone can enjoy. 

Please enjoy this snippet!

XxXxXxXx

The Moon shone brightly in a clear night, casting dim shadows through the large window of a castle. A few of the shadows twisted and turned in sinister shapes as thick bars lay across the tall window, keeping anyone from entering—or rather exiting said window.

An old grandfather clock ticked away in the far reaches of the circular room, creating a faint echo through the space. Large towering bookcases lined most of the room, reaching all the way to the ceiling. A ladder leading up to the top creaked as a figure climbed down. Jumping down once close enough to the bottom, the shadowy silhouette walked away from the bookshelves to go to the other side of the room. A large bed with a canopy sat near the window. On this bed were a tangle of blankets, strewn clothing on top, and a courier bag sitting at the end of the bed. The shadowed figure went to the end of the bed, digging through a creaky pine chest, shuffling through the assortment of items within. Pulling out some of the contents, the figure quickly stuffed them into the bag on the bed along with the book they had brought from the bookcase.

Going over to a vast wardrobe across from the bed, they pulled out a few clothing items before returning to the courier bag once more. Once finishing packing, they shut the bag before letting out a heavy sigh. Walking away from the bed, they slowly made their way over to the large window. The moonlight slowly revealed a young girl. She was perhaps in her teen years from the look of her. Nothing was particularly strange about her, save for the brilliant silver hair that fell in waves around her. It was long, falling about half way down her back, and her bangs brushed the tops of her silver brows. The color was very unique, nothing like the silver one may find on an elderly person. No, this hair almost glowed as the moonlight shone on it.

The girl let out another heavy sigh as she sat down on the windowsill. She gazed out to the grounds below, staring at the massive wall that surrounded the entirety of the castle. The light of the full Moon showed a few guards walking through the garden. Her blue eyes shifted to the top of the wall. The room was just high enough to see the valley woodlands beyond the castle. In the daytime, the girl knew the sight was breathtaking, which had always given her a deep yearning to go there.

The grandfather clock chimed, making the girl rise swiftly to her feet. She stood rigidly by the window, not moving an inch. Placing a hand to her chest, she took a deep breath before turning and promptly making her way to the door on the other side of the room. The door was something to behold. It was gigantic, made out of solid metal, and had massive lock mechanisms intertwining the entire construct. If one were to try and break down said door, it would be a miracle to even attempt such a feat. The girl knew this from experience as she stared at the gleaming door.

One by one, the locks on the door began to turn, clicking and clacking as it steadily unlatched. Finally, the door groaned and swung open a few inches. A male was seen kneeling by the entry, pushing forward a metal tray with an assortment of food. The girl crouched down, touching the tray gingerly.

"Hello. How's the night treating you?" the girl asked quickly, smiling sheepishly at the man. The guard’s eyes darted briefly to her before looking away.

"I'm sorry, Your Ladyship. You know I'm not allowed to speak with you," the man replied quietly.

The girl sighed, her smile dropping. "Yeah, I know." Her smile returned, though significantly less sunny than before. "Still, I wish you the best tonight."

"Thank you, my lady." The guard nodded before standing to heave the door shut once more. 

The girl stood with tray in hand, listening to each lock fall back into place. She took the tray to one of her study desks by the bookshelves, placing it down onto the mess of papers scattered across the tabletop. There was not much food. A hunk of cheese. A small baggie of cookies. A flask of water. It was more akin to a traveller’s rations than an evening snack for a ladyship. She seized everything from the tray, hurriedly going over to her bag and shoving it all inside.

"Okay, okay . . . I think I have everything," she whispered in a breath to herself. She placed the bag over her shoulder before going back over to the tray. It was empty now with just a silver plate left on it. She turned it over to reveal a large key that was stuck to the back. Pulling it off, she held it close to her chest as she made her way back over to the broad door. "Oops, almost forgot." She went back over, grabbing the glass cup from the tray before stepping to the door. She pressed the cup to the metal and then her ear to the bottom of the cup. She waited with bated breath, straining to listen.

Soon, she heard the guard change coming up the stairs.

"Evening, Henry," came a gruff sounding male voice. She could barely hear this through the thick metal, but was glad she could.

"Ready for the night to be over," replied Henry, the man who had given her the food moments before.

"Aye, I hear you," said the gruff man. There was some shuffling of steps.

"Wait, do you hear something?" said Henry, sounding concerned.

"What?"

"It came from the window."

"Huh? I don't hear anything."

The girl flinched as she heard a loud thunk and a sharp surprised gasp from a man before the falling of a body to the floor. Acting quick, she tossed the glass aside and whipped out a black ribbon from her trouser pocket to tie her hair back with a bow before pushing the key into the keyhole on the door. All locks made a loud clack collectively as she turned the key. With a grunt, she pulled hard on the door, making it open slowly. She felt she was not moving quick enough. Time was short now for her.

She managed to squeeze through the small gap she had made in the doorway. Stepping out into the dimly lit hallway, she saw the new guard was unconscious on the ground at her feet. Looking at the other man, she saw how he sheathed his sword and knew he had used the hilt of it to knock out the guard.

"Thank you, Henry," she breathed as she pulled out the large wrench from the strap on her leg. "Sorry about this."

"Don't worry, I've dealt with worse," chuckled Henry. She closed her eyes as she struck him on the back of the head with her wrench, peeking them open as soon as she heard him fall to the floor. She felt bad about having to hurt him, but she had to make it look believable. Henry would have been in a lot more trouble if it looked like he had helped her in any way.

Turning down the hallway, she walked away from the stairs (what would have been the obvious exit) and instead opened the window at the end of the hall. Retrieving a strange device from her bag that looked like a small crossbow of sorts, she then pointed it at the wall that surrounded the castle. At the end of this mini crossbow was a three-clawed hook resembling that of an eagle's talon. Squinting, she aimed carefully before firing the device. Out shot the claw from the device, sailing true and straight to the wall. It hit the top of the wall, sinking into the stone with ease. The girl tugged a bit on the rope that was attached to the claw across the way, making certain it was securely fastened before climbing up onto the window's ledge. Letting out a small wavering breath, she wrapped the rope's end securely in her hand before making a leap out of the window. The cool air of the night felt amazing as she swung across the large gap between the castle and the wall, her silvery hair blowing behind her in a ponytail. Placing her feet out, she used them to brace herself when she hit the wall. With quick action, she hooked the rope into the crossbow-like tool. She then cranked on the device before releasing a small lever on the side of the bow. It whirled to life, feeding the rope through itself causing the girl to practically fly up to the wall's top. Once at the top, she hurriedly walked across the top of the wall and prepared herself to go down the other side.

Her blue eyes drifted back to the old, unwelcoming castle behind her, the place that had been her only home her whole life. She felt a mixture of emotions as she stared at it. But her expression grew determined as she flipped a lever on her device and she was lowered to the ground below. The moment her feet touched the grass, she yanked the rope and caused the claw on the wall to release, falling back to her. Flipping the lever from before, the rope spun and the claw was back in place on the device once more. Putting her device back into her bag, she looked at the wall while slowly backing up.

"Goodbye," she whispered, before smiling brightly and turning to the woods before her, running into the night.

[annoyed-galaxy]

Fable 2 Aftermath

Aka I couldn’t find a title for this so this is just what I’m gonna call it.

This takes place one year after Sparrow has defeated Lucien. It’s a small scene and is what will start my Sparrow and Reaver’s little romance that will go on to Fable 3. I will add as a warning: there is an attempted suicide in this. Just in case that would trigger someone, I’m adding that here.

I hope you will enjoy this little story and let me know what you think. I’m pretty sure there’s going to be a second part to this or just more in general as I figure out what the hell my characters are going to be.

Enjoy!

   She had done it. She accomplished her mission. She exacted her revenge against Lucien.

   And yet...she still felt empty inside.

  It had been a year since she killed Lucien and made her wish in the Spire. Not much happened in that year. She got a statue erected in her honor and she bought a lot of houses and stores and made the rent and prices affordable for the less fortunate people. People saw her as a selfless saint. She had the chance to bring back her sister and even her beloved dog, but instead chose to bring back thousands upon thousands of random strangers. The people of Albion praised her. When she walked the streets, people would cheer and weep at her mere presence.

   But she still felt empty. She was alone. All three of the Heroes had left and Theresa had basically kicked her out of the seer’s life completely. She had begun regretting her choice. But anytime those thoughts came up, she would get herself so drunk she could barely stand or find some random person to warm her bed and take her mind off things. She was almost reverting back to her young adult self, the selfish woman who came from Bower Lake with only one goal in mind.

   Now she was just a hollow shell of her former self. She had no regard for her life anymore. After all, she had sacrificed her youth and beauty for one bastard.

  For some reason that thought had kept coming to her over and over. Why did she do that? Why did she sacrifice her own youth and beauty instead of forcing it onto that random girl in the Shadow Court? Why did she choose to bring back strangers rather than her beloved sister and puppy?

   Thinking about these things didn’t help.

   Sparrow looked at the bottle in her hand. It was already empty. She sighed and threw it to her left, then proceeded to take another bottle from the crate on her right. There were four bottles left, with three missing. She had bought the crate from one of the vendors in Bloodstone and had taken the thing down to the beach where she sat in the sand and stared out into the ocean, drinking her life away. She could see the Spire from where she sat. It didn’t help with the memories floating in her head. Anytime a memory tried to come up, she would take a swig from the bottle and wash it away.

   Was this healthy?

   Of course not.

   Did Sparrow care?

   Hell no.

   It had been a year and Sparrow was trying to find some purpose in her life. She did what she could to help out around communities such as Old Town and Oakfield, but they never satisfied her. Nowadays, nothing really did. She missed her dog. She missed playing fetch with him and cuddling with him. She almost missed him more than she missed her sister. It was a pain to admit that, but Sparrow was young when she lost her sister. The only reason her vengeance grew so much was because of Theresa’s careful taming.

   And when the end came, Theresa tossed Sparrow to the side, not a care in the world. Not a single goodbye or anything. At least the Heroes had said goodbye, which was a surprise because Sparrow had not expected Reaver to say goodbye at all. But if that smarmy bastard had some decency to say a farewell, how come Theresa, Sparrow’s mentor, didn’t?

   The thought made Sparrow clench her teeth and want to throw something at the Spire. The closest thing to her was a seashell. Poor thing soared through the sky as Sparrow threw it as hard as she could. It traveled pretty far before Sparrow saw its splash. Sparrow clicked her tongue and took another drink.

   The sun was already going down, but Sparrow had no care. The moon could have made its lap across the sky and the sun come back and she wouldn’t have noticed. She barely noticed time anymore. It was irrelevant to her. She was going to die young, she knew it. What purpose in life did she have now?

   A dangerous glance dragged her attention to the new pistol she carried on her side. She had put her crossbow up in a place of honor and picked up a pistol. The age of crossbows was coming to an end and it was becoming more troublesome to carry around. The pistol was light and did more damage than her beloved crossbow. But it was also easier to use for darker needs.

   Sparrow took the pistol out of its holster and examined it. It was a beautiful thing. Black and gold like her crossbow; she would have had it no other way. It was one of those fancy clockwork pistols that only the Spire guards had used. Five bullets in one little clip. However, her pistol only had one bullet right now.

   Sparrow didn’t know when it struck her, but she no longer felt a reason to live. She did meaningless tasks everyday. Saving a bunch of slaves, killing hobbes and balverines, chopping wood, making swords; none of it meant anything to her anymore. She tried contributing to communities by teaching young boys and girls how to fight and protect themselves for when there were no more Heroes in Albion. Some people giggled at the notion, thinking it was unnecessary. But it entertained the children so they let the great Hero do it.

   Yet even that never helped close the gaping hole in Sparrow’s chest. In fact, it made her even more depressed; seeing all the children laughing and happy. She even saw siblings playing like she and Rose used to. Only these children never had to suffer through the things Sparrow and Rose did. Their families didn’t know poverty or struggle, and that was thanks to Sparrow. They never knew heartbreak or hardship. They all thought of Sparrow as the greatest Hero of all time, but she never saw that herself. After the ten years she spent in that awful Spire, wasting away and hurting other people, she would have given everything just to make others not suffer.

   She didn’t realize how much she would make herself suffer through.

   Another swig from the bottle brought Sparrow to the present, to the pistol resting in her hand. Maybe Albion would mourn her death, but then again, they were okay. People were happy. People did not suffer. And they wouldn’t for a long time. No matter Theresa’s intentions, surely they couldn’t be evil right? Would she really kill everyone in Albion with the Spire?

   Sparrow honestly didn’t care now. She wouldn’t live to see what would happen.

   The Hero took a deep breath and brought the pistol to the side of her head. There was no point in living now. She could join her sister and dog in the afterlife. She would see her lost parents again. Maybe she could be happy. It had been so long since she smiled. So long since she felt something good.

   Tears started to roll down her cheeks. She just wanted to be happy. She could make other people happy, but why couldn’t she make herself happy? She wanted to give herself to other people just so they could be happy but why did she torment herself? Why did she do these things to herself? She had no value left in her. She had already given her flesh away multiple times. Gave her blade even more times. She would jump in front of incoming fire just to save some merchants without a single regard to her life. She had no longer valued her life.

   She honestly couldn’t remember when that started. If that was before or after the Spire. Maybe it was right after she left Bower Lake. Sure she wouldn’t have gone out of her way to save someone, but she didn’t love her body enough to cherish it. Gave it away freely to distract herself from bad memories. She thought after her time in the Spire, she would have changed. But...she didn’t. Not really. The only thing that changed was that she cared more about people. She had never loved herself. She had never placed any value into her life. She always thought that Rose should have been the one to survive. To become a great Hero. Not Sparrow.

   She had no meaning anymore. She was always Theresa’s pawn. She was a means to an end. Killing Lucien did nothing to quell that vengeance. Hell, after a while, she wondered if that was ever what she truly wanted. At first, maybe, but in the end, she just needed to kill a madman. Everything she had ever done led up to this moment.

   Sitting on a beach, drunk on cheap alcohol, with a gun to her head. Sparrow looked out into the horizon, watching as the sun cast a fiery blaze across the ocean and behind the Spire. It was a beautiful image. And it would be the last one she ever saw.

   “Are you really going to do that?”

   A voice pulled Sparrow out of her thoughts, her eyes away from the horizon.

   A lone figure was swaggering into her view. She couldn’t quite tell who it was, the setting sun was already casting shadows on the beach. “Who are you?” she called out, her voice raspy and hoarse from lack of use and excessive amount of alcohol consumption.

   Her hand lowered the gun from her head and rested in her lap. Whoever it was, they stopped her from ending it all.

   Sparrow finally could make out the swaggering walk, the lush hair that stuck out well too-groomed for one’s own sake, that sassy hand on hip, the cape flowing behind. Now she wished she had pulled the trigger as Reaver fully came into view. He stood a couple feet away and had that little shit-eating smirk on his face that made Sparrow want to grab his hair and slam him into the ground.

   She snorted and took a swig from her bottle, no longer interested in the Hero of Skill’s sudden arrival.

   “Well that’s just rude!” Reaver feigned offense, putting a hand to his forehead. “Is this how you greet an old friend?”

   “We’re not friends,” Sparrow let out, glaring at the horizon. She refused to meet the pirate’s eyes. “You would sooner stab me in the back than call me a friend.”

   Reaver clicked his tongue. “Well that’s a rude assumption.”

   Sparrow glared at him, really considering summoning a blade and piercing it through his pretty little immortal throat. Reaver chuckled at the look Sparrow gave him, before moving closer and sitting by her side. “Mind if I take one?” Reaver asked already reaching for one of the bottles in her crate.

   “Do you like that hand?” she asked without looking at him. A spectral blade formed above his hand and hovered dangerously close.

   Reaver couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled his hand away. “My, aren’t you a grump. I mean I imagined something was wrong when you were about to put a bullet through your head. Tell me, were you really going to go through with that?”

   Sparrow didn’t know why this little bastard cared if she did shoot herself or not. If he hadn’t said anything, she’d probably be a corpse right now. “Why the hell do you care?” she growled. She never looked in his direction, but rather kept her attention focused on the horizon.

   “Well I’m just curious. Aren’t you a celebrated Hero? Albion absolutely adores you! You saved thousands of lives. I imagine you’d be showered with all sorts of gifts. Maybe be swooned to some alluring man or woman and have several children by now.” Reaver cocked his head to the side. “So how come such a loved person would dare put a gun to her head?”

   Sparrow scoffed. “Like you would fucking care. What does it matter to you? Would you weep if you had found a cold body here rather than a drunken husk?”

   “Someone’s frisky.”

   Sparrow flung her fist out, ready to make contact with the smarmy bastard only for the little shit to casually dodge. Sparrow pulled back and bore daggers into whatever pathetic soul Reaver harbored. His smirk grew wider as he looked this woman up and down. Her hair was a mess, her eyes red from tears and bloodshot with an overwhelming amount of alcohol. Her Will lines even seemed dimmer than they were when he first saw her.

   “You really have let yourself go. It’s only been a year,” Reaver commented.

   Sparrow wanted to pummel that pretty face into a pulp, but knew he would just dodge her drunken attacks. She turned back forward and chugged the rest of her bottle. She threw it to the side, but didn’t reach for another. “It’s only been a year and you’re already back from Samarkand,” Sparrow replied after some silence. “What happened there? Crawled into the wrong bed and get in trouble?”

   Reaver smiled at her teasing tone. He really did like a person with a quippy tongue. “Oh no, I didn’t crawl into any wrong beds. Actually they were all the right ones. The people over there are a little more exotic than our humble Albion citizens.”

   Sparrow snorted. “Wow. Did you spend your entire time there sleazing about?”

   “Actually no. My visit was cut short by a certain Will user.” Reaver waved his hand around. “He was a little upset that I tried to kill him and nearly turned me into a crisp.”

   Sparrow glanced at Reaver. “You tried to kill Garth, failed and barely escaped?”

   Reaver nodded.

   “Shame. Would’ve been nice to see a burnt ass pirate.”

   “Oh come now, where would the fun be in that!” Reaver threw his arms in the air. “I’m too handsome to die.”

   “Haven’t you lived for a couple hundred centuries? I’m pretty sure your time is coming to an end.”

   “Well, maybe, but I somehow always manage to find a way unscathed.”

   Sparrow rolled her eyes. “How unfortunate for society.” She finally reached for one of the bottles and popped the cork. There was no hesitation as she ingested the foul liquid. She had already drank three of these bottles. Her taste buds had gone numb to the horrid taste.

   Reaver and Sparrow sat in silence for a while. Long enough for the moon to rise behind them casting their shadows on the sand. Sparrow’s mind drifted away, back into deep thoughts. The pistol was still in her lap and she wondered if she would actually go through with her original impulse. Or did Reaver ironically save her? Was there a reason for this? No, she shook her head. Just random chance. Then again, Reaver could have watched as she pulled the trigger. Unless maybe he wanted a go at her himself.

   “Tell me something, shithead, why’d you stop me?” Sparrow finally asked, breaking the silence.

   “Hm?” Reaver responded, tilting his head.

   “You could have watched me blow my brains out, but you didn’t. You said something and stopped me.” She turned to him. “Why?”

   Reaver shrugged. “I didn’t think you were actually going to do it, whether I had said something or not. I was simply surprised someone like you would even think about that.”

   “What do you mean someone like me?”

   “Tch, you have everything you could have ever wanted in the world! People shower you with love and praise and would throw themselves before you begging to take your hand in marriage. And you have the gall to go and off yourself?!” Reaver let out a condescending laugh. “Truly pathetic.”

   Sparrow snarled and threw her bottle to the side, the alcohol spilling and staining the sand. Reaver didn’t have enough time to react before Sparrow was on top of him, her hands around his throat. “Of course a bastard like you would say that!” She squeezed harder and Reaver grabbed her arms, trying to push her off of him. “Of course you would think my life is so grand! You’ve probably never even given a shit about anyone but yourself! Actually I know that’s true because you tricked me into giving away my life, just so you can stay young!” Sparrow snarled harder and could feel Reaver’s throat slowly collapsing in her hands. “Well I’m going to take your fucking immorality you little shit!”

   Sparrow squeezed harder and harder, but did not expect the breath to be knocked out of her by a knee in her back. The blow caused her to loosen her grip and gave Reaver enough time to roll around and pin her to sandy ground. He pinned her arms above her head and dug his knees into her sides. It took him a few moments to catch his breath and all the while, Sparrow struggled. But in her drunken state and current position, she was too weak to force Reaver off of her.

   “I must say, that is the closest...anyone has gotten to killing me,” Reaver chuckled, still trying to collect stolen breath. “And that is the closest anyone has personally gotten to me to kill me. Most attempts on my life are far away.” He smiled down at Sparrow who was still snarling. She looked like a savage dog, ready to rip his heart out if he were to let go of her. “I love that fire in your eyes. It does things,” Reaver purred leaning in closer.

   “This fire will manifest if you’re not careful, shitstain,” Sparrow growled.

   “Oh ho ho, you have such a foul mouth. I like that.”

   Sparrow tried to push herself off the ground, but Reaver had her arms in such a weird position that she couldn’t move. It didn’t help that he had squeezed his legs against hers, preventing her from kicking at him like he did with her. Maybe if she could flick her hand properly, she could get a spectral blade to pierce through his skull. She figured it was worth a shot and began moving her hands.

   Reaver clicked his tongue and shook his head. His hands moved to her own and he locked their fingers together. “I’ve always considered Will users cheaters. There’s no fairness in magic.” Sparrow growled and tried to throw Reaver off balance somehow. Nothing worked. The pirate had her pinned completely. She was too weak and drunk to actually do anything.

   She relaxed and let her head rest in the sand. “Just fucking end me already. I’m tired of these bloody games Reaver.”

   Reaver raised an eyebrow. “End you? What, do you think I would kill you?”

   “Really?” Sparrow asked sarcastically. “You literally tried to kill Garth, had originally tried to betray me to Lucien, and even said you would try to kill me. So yes. I think you would kill me. And honestly at this point, if you did, I’d probably kiss you.”

   Reaver smiled at that last part. “Is that what would it take to get a kiss from you? Simply end your life?”

   Sparrow rolled her eyes. “Yeah have fun kissing a corpse you bastard.”

   Reaver leaned in closer, dangerously close. “What if I got that kiss before I ended your life.”

   Sparrow frowned. “I wasn’t being serious.”

   “Oh but I was.” Reaver smiled again.

   Red spread across Sparrow’s cheeks. She had many men and women flirt with her, but they usually fell on deaf ears and had never affected her. Even when she did take them to bed. Most of the time, those lovestruck idiots were simply a distraction to her. A way to ease her mind of things.

   But the way Reaver flirted with her was different. She didn’t know what it was, but the redness on her cheeks clearly showed something was amiss.

   And she hated it.

   She hated that this scumbag piece of shit was making her blush.

   He was close enough that Sparrow could headbutt him. Reaver cried out, but didn’t let go of Sparrow’s hands. He simply fell back, pulling Sparrow up with him. She saw this as her chance to break free, but before she could react, Reaver had quickly recovered and had her arms twisting behind her back. They were even closer now and it made Sparrow’s skin crawl.

   “You’ll have to do better than that darling,” Reaver smirked. “With the amount of times I’ve been headbutted, I’m surprised there isn’t a permanent dent on my beautiful face.”

   “I’m going to rip your pretty face to shreds if you don’t let me go,” Sparrow hissed.

   “Now how would you do that with your hands behind you back and legs in no position to overthrow me. You’re completely drunk, I’m still astonished you can speak full words. You have no advantage here. How exactly are you going to beat me?” Reaver asked, his words filled with challenge.

   He was right. With her hands awkwardly bent behind her back and Reaver sitting on her lap, his legs keeping hers from moving, there really wasn’t anything she could do. She couldn’t even try another headbutt without risking pulling an arm out of socket. And there was the fact that she was drunk. She could feel the buzz coming over her body fully now, because of the movements she had made. Her head was dizzy.

   It was weird, the thoughts now coming to her mind. How was she here, trapped in the arms of the man who basically stopped her from taking her life? Now all she wanted was to sleep. No dark thoughts tried to pry themselves into her mind. No feeling of loss or self-hatred. She was just tired.

   Sparrow sighed and let her head rest on Reaver’s shoulder. “I submit. I’m too tired to fight back. Just do whatever. I don’t care at this point.” She closed her eyes and relaxed. She wasn’t going to fight him. Even if he let her go and left her on the beach, she’d just curl up in a ball and sleep, the sound of the ocean being her only comfort.

   She could feel sleep starting to take her as Reaver let her arms go. Her shoulders stung as her arms fell to her sides, but she didn’t care. She was too tired to care. She barely reacted to Reaver picking her up bridal style and taking her somewhere. The last thing she saw was the Spire in the distance over Reaver’s shoulder before the dark embrace of sleep finally took over.

[starswallowingsea]

Will You Trust Me?

Fandom: Skyjacks 

Pairing: Gable/Travis 

Word Count: 4162 

Summary: Love has never been in the cards for Gable. They never felt interested in it but their mother has placed a lot of significance on the topic. Travis has been a swan for most of his life now and spends his days in the forest, swimming on the lake and thinking about life. A lot. When they meet, Gable isn’t sure what to make of Travis, but they seem to hit it off together quickly. Will Gable be able to break Travis’ curse? Will Travis finally get over himself and his attitude? Will my backspace key stop breaking on tumblr?

Notes: Swan Lake Gable/Travis AU based on this post by @lopxart and it’s finally finished! This is a minor disclaimer but I’ve never actually seen Swan Lake so I based most of this on various summaries I read online and split it into 4 acts + a prologue and epilogue. I also took a lot of liberties with character relationships to make things work. Enjoy! 

--- 

Prologue

Travis and his friends had gone hunting in the woods together. They were after some meat to show off their talents at the feast tomorrow, and to have some fun together one last time before they all got married off to somewhere far away. 

As day turned to dusk, and dusk turned to night, the group of friends were still in the woods, getting ready to head back to the castle. They double checked that they had all the animals they had killed, their weapons, cloaks, and anything else they may have brought with them. As they began their trek back, a shadowy figure walked towards them.

“Why have you come here, prince?” A smooth, deep voice asks.

“To hunt for food and have fun! What else would we be doing here?” Travis says, only a little phased by the mysterious stranger in front of them.

“T-Travis, I don’t think you s-should have said that,” said Dref from behind him.

“Your friend is right. You’ve trespassed on my land, and I cannot simply forgive you for that.”

Travis turns around to look at the others, confused and concerned looks crossing their faces.

“Well we didn’t know it was your forest, you should have a fence or a sign up or something. We promise we won’t do this again.” He says, displaying his hands in front of him, a lilted grin on his face.

“It’s a sacred law that nobody shall hunt in my forest without permission or an offering first. I must make you pay for this.” She says calmly, raising her own hands.

“Look lady, everyone just thinks those are stories and only the superstitious people really believe them. You can’t expect me to just take these things at face value, can you?”

She never answered, rather, she raised her arms and pain overtook their bodies.

Act I

Gable descended the stairs as their mother approached them. They greeted each other with kisses on the cheek and their mother clasped their shoulders. “Gable, you are coming of age today and need to get married. We will be having a ball tomorrow for you to find a suitable spouse.”

Gable gently took their mother’s hands off their shoulders. “Mother, today’s my birthday, could this not have waited until tomorrow? I wanted to spend some time with my friends, maybe go hunting with them.”

“Yes, I know you want to go be with your friends, but you cannot keep this lifestyle up forever. What will you do when I finally pass away and you must take the throne?”

“That hasn’t happened yet, so I haven’t thought about it. Besides, you’ll be alive for many more years. We have the best doctors around and you have been pretty good about keeping up your health. Surely I will be much older when it comes time to think about those things.”

The Queen sighed and once again placed her hand on Gable’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“The future is never set in stone. Just think about who you want to marry at least before tomorrow for me?”

“I suppose I can do that.”

Gable reached up to grab their mother’s hand and squeezed it gently.

“Thank you,” she said.

---

A few hours passed filled with dancing, drinking, and talking amongst friends. Gable took a sip of their drink as their friend tried to tell them a story without laughing too much. The sun was starting to sink, but it was still light out.

The Queen stepped over to her child, tapping them gently on the shoulder to get their attention.

“Hmm? Yes, what do you want now?” They asked, not entirely sure as to why their mother was interrupting their conversation.

“Since I cannot stop you, I thought you might enjoy one last hunt with your friends,” the Queen said, bringing out a crossbow from behind her back. “It was your father’s and he would want you to have it.”

Gable stared down at the gift, gently taking it from her hands into their own. The two never really talked about their father, but Gable sometimes overheard stories from workers in the castle. He loved to hunt, a master with the crossbow.

“Thanks…” They said, trailing off and turning the weapon over in their hands.

Hildred took a look over their shoulder, wanting to see what Gable’s mother had given them.

“Ooooooooh, are we going on a hunt today?” She asked. “It’s been a while since we’ve done that.”

“Yes, we are. Get everyone together, we’ll leave in a few minutes.”

With that, Hildred ran off to get her own crossbow and Gable gave their mother a tight hug.

Act II

The group of friends walked out into the woods, having, of course, made an offering to the Forest Queen before stepping foot into the forest. They broke off in small groups to try and catch more game without disturbing the animals as easily.

Gable and Hildred walked together for some time before Gable got lost. They didn’t remember if they took a wrong turn or if Hildred had stopped and they just didn’t hear her say anything. Either way, they ended up alone in a clearing by a beautiful lake. They never realized it was there, but then again, they normally didn’t come this far into the woods on their own.

There appeared to be some swans on the lake, swimming around peacefully. Gable set their crossbow down and leaned up against a tree, watching the birds move across the surface of the lake. They couldn’t make a shot from here and didn’t want to risk them flying away if they got closer, but there was still something oddly calming about just watching the swans, distracting them from their thoughts.

---

They couldn’t tell how much time had passed when they heard rustling behind them.

“Gable! There you are! We’ve been looking for you all evening! How’d you end up all the way out here?” Hildred shouted from behind them.

Gable jumped up at the sudden noise, hand reaching for the crossbow reflexively before realizing who it was.

“I don’t know. One second I was with you and the next I was here. Don’t worry about me though, I’ll be back later. I want to try and get one of those swans on the lake but too many people might scare them off.”

Hildred looked past them to the lake and saw the swans swimming in the center of the lake, which appeared golden in the setting sun.

“Alright, whatever you say Gable.” She said, patting their shoulder before yelling at the others to head back to the castle.

---

As the sun continued to sink into the sky, Gable wondered if the swans would ever come ashore. Surely they needed to come back eventually. The sky turned golden, then pink, and finally an inky black, the moon and stars reflecting from the lake’s surface.

The swans finally came ashore when the moon rose just above the treeline. Gable slowly crept forward with their crossbow loaded and aimed at the most beautiful swan of all. This one even had an old crown on its head, styled like that of the rulers from decades ago. It must have fallen off into the lake long ago and been picked up by the swan.

Their finger hovered gently over the trigger as they found the best spot for a clean kill when the swan ducked down and began… changing shape? Gable kept the crossbow up as they approached, keeping to the trees so as not to disturb whatever it was that stood on the beach.

A figure stood up where the swan had been; a beautiful, slender man with silver hair and clothes stood up before them. Gable, unsure of what to do, kept the crossbow in front of them, aiming it past the person (or swan-person, as it was) in front of them and firing a warning shot into the lake.

The man jumped, cursing loudly and looking in Gable’s direction, searching for who fired the shot.

“I know you’re out there! You don’t scare me! Shoot again, I dare you!” He said, stretching his arms out wide.  

Gable sighed and lowered the crossbow, seeing that whoever this was, he was mostly harmless. They then stepped back into the clearing, making a show of putting the weapon on the ground, along with undoing the quiver along their waist and dropping it into the sand.

“Oh, so it was you, was it?”

“I thought you were a swan, that’s all.” Gable said, crossing their arms over their chest.

“Well, you see, I’m a different bird, but I can understand where you got confused.”

The man turned around and began dancing by himself on the beach, graceful like a bird, but still lonely.

“Care to join me?” He asked, extending a hand to Gable.

“Only if you tell me your name.”

“Travis, and yours?”

“Gable.” They said, moving forward to grab his hand. Gable was never one for dancing, but they let themselves be led by Travis, still unsure of what exactly he was.

“So… can you just change into a swan whenever you want or something?”

“I wish it were that easy. A long time ago, me and some friends were cursed by the Forest Queen for breaking one of her rules or something. I didn’t see what the big deal was, but she changed us into swans, allowing us to only be human at night.”

Gable stayed silent for a moment, thinking about what he just said.

“And after we were cursed to be swans forever, our families wept for years. Their tears make up the lake here. It wasn’t there when we were cursed…” He said trailing off, thinking about how his family had lived and died without him all those years ago.

“I… I’m very sorry for what happened to you. Is there a way to break this curse?” Gable asked, slowing down, but still moving with Travis in the dance.

Travis took a deep breath, coming to a stop.

“One of us needs to be someone’s first and only love. Only then will we be able to remain human and properly die of old age.”

At that Gable sat down in the sand, thinking about Travis’ response. Travis sat down next to them, leaning back and looking up at the stars.

“It’s not a bad life we lead, you know. We don’t age, injuries don’t last for longer than a day, we can’t really be killed.” He said.

“It must get lonely. Without being able to see your other friends and your family ever.” Gable said.

Travis was taken a little off guard by the statement. “Yeah, I suppose. You get used to it after a few years though.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. You shouldn’t have to be used to being a swan and being away from your family and friends. This isn’t right.”

There was a tense pause in the conversation as they both let what Gable said sink in.

“I…

“I’ve never been in love.” Gable says with a shaky breath.

Travis looks over at them, their eyes focused on the other side of the lake.

“Well, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” Travis said, scooting a little closer to Gable.

Gable looked over at Travis for the first time since sitting down. “That would probably be the best place to start, huh.”

They began talking about their home, their friends, what they did when they weren’t training for being the next ruler of the kingdom, even how boring their training was. Slowly, they started relaxing, opening up to Travis more, as he also told them about his life before. The two laughed together, gently shoving each other when they said something ridiculous. Gable finally felt like they could be themself with someone and Travis had finally found someone to talk to that wasn’t one of his swan friends.

---

By the time the moon began to sink behind the horizon, Gable realized just how long they had been out.

“I have to be going, but… you aren’t that bad.” They said, grinning.

“Likewise.” Travis said, standing up. He offered a hand to Gable to pull them up and into one last embrace.

Gable opened their mouth to say something, but they were interrupted by a loud voice behind them.

“Go, dance on the lake, my swans. Far away from shore, so this human cannot follow you.” It said. Travis jerked away from the hug and felt himself pulled towards the lake, dancing. From around the shore, his friends also came out with him.

“Travis!” Gable shouted, reaching out for him as he danced further and further towards the center of the lake. They tried to follow, but they sank  in the water instead of floating above it.

“I suggest you go home, young royal.” The voice behind them said.

A tear escaped from Gable’s eyes as they turned around, grabbed their crossbow and bolts, and walked home.

Act III

Gable awoke the next day after a fitful sleep. They only got two or three hours of it after coming home late from the hunt, having spent a large amount of time talking with that swan-prince bird person. They still didn’t know what to make of him, annoying sure, but maybe if they had met before, Gable would have been able to present him to their mother for today.

In either case, Gable needed to get ready for the big day ahead of them. The servants already had breakfast and their clothes ready so they could have enough time to get properly dressed for that evening’s events.

“Where were you last night, Gable?” Their mother asked, sitting across from them with her own food.

“Must’ve fallen asleep in the woods I suppose.” They said, taking another forkful of food.

“But Hildred told me that you told her to just leave you alone, that you would be back in an hour or two.”

“Did I? I guess I did. I think I fell asleep against that tree waiting for the animals to come into range or something.”

Their mother looked skeptical at that, but didn’t say anything else.

“You know you have to pick your future spouse tonight,” she said, handing her dishes to a servant waiting nearby.

“I am fully aware that you intend for me to do so, yes.”

“You need to marry so that after I die, our reign can continue. The choosing ceremony is a part of a long tradition--”

“Yes yes I am fully aware of all of these things, mother. I will attend if that will appease you but I will not be choosing a spouse tonight, nor any night for that matter.”

“What happens when you die? You have no heir? Who will take over this kingdom?”

“Maybe you and father should have had more kids. Then we wouldn’t be having this issue.”

At that their mother became furious. “Don’t you dare disrespect your father like that. You know we tried many times to have children and you were the only result of our efforts.”

Gable finished their breakfast, stood up, and walked away without saying anything else.

---

Gable sat in their ceremony clothes, fidgeting with the sleeves, thinking about Travis. There was no way he would be able to come in if he was a swan half the time and how would they explain to their mother how they met him in the first place?

It didn’t really matter.

Their mother walked in, an apologetic look on her face. “Gable, I am so sorry for how I acted at breakfast. I know this is difficult for you, but it is difficult for me too. I do not want to see my only child be lonely for the rest of their life, you know that. I am just thinking of you.”

Gable rolled their eyes. “I know, and I’ve told you over and over that marriage will not make me happy. I want this kingdom to prosper, but I don’t want to do it in the way you seem to think I should.”

Their mother sighed and moved to stand in front of Gable. She pulled a chair over and sat down, placing her hands on Gable’s and said “I really, truely, am sorry for all of this. I know that this is a stuffy old tradition, but at least try to pick a suitor tonight? Dance with them, have fun, maybe something will click with one of them.”

Gable clenched and unclenched their fists, thinking it over. They still didn’t really want to do this, and the whole ball itself felt very stupid and played up. “If I won’t be tied down by any decision I make, then yes, I can promise you at least that much I suppose.”

“Thank you,” their mother smiled, patting Gable’s hands before standing up to leave. “I will leave you to get ready then.”

---

Hours later, Gable stood at the top of the stairs as music swelled around the ballroom. They descended the stairs, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. Hildred was there, as were all of their hunting friends. Near them, was a line of young people, around Gable’s age, of various genders, waiting to see if Gable would select them to rule the kingdom.

Gable first walked over to Hildred and their friends.

“I can’t believe your mother did all this for you! Not nearly as stuffy as some of those events though,” Hildred said, pulling Gable into a hug.

Gable hugged her back. “I know. She still wants me to choose someone tonight so I can properly succeed her when the time comes, which hopefully for all of us, won’t be soon.”

Hildred chuckled at that.

“Well, you better go dance with your suitors. I’m sure they’re just as nervous as you are,” Hildred said, smirking.

“Yeah, probably.”

---

Gable moved across the dance floor, seamlessly flowing between dance partners, some suitors, some not. They would talk for the duration of the song playing and then move on, sometimes picking up after minutes or hours of separation. It wasn’t a bad night, but there were certainly places Gable would rather have been.

A gust of wind brushed past them as the doors opened. It was late and the air was cold, but still, someone decided to arrive hours late.

Gable looked over and saw one of their mentors and… Travis?

Gable let go of their current dance partner and made their way over to Travis.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” they said, offering a hand to shake.

“Oh I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he responded, taking their hand and bringing it to his lips. Something about his whole demeanor felt odd, but they had only spent one night together, so there were certainly things they wouldn’t know about each other.

“Well I’m glad you made it. Would you care for a dance?” Gable pulled him closer before he could respond and merged into the dancing crowd together.

---

A lone man walked up to one of the many windows around the ballroom and looked inside. He knew his presence would not be appreciated by Gable’s family and the guests, as much as he wanted to go in and torture them with his presence.

His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the person they had spent much of the day thinking about. He saw them dancing with another man, one who looked an awful lot like Travis himself. He wanted to run inside and break the two up and steal Gable away to live in the woods and annoy them with bird jokes for the rest of their life, maybe even break this damn curse.

Travis moved over to the door and just as he pushed it open, his stomach dropped.

“I think… I’m in love with you,” Gable said, pulling the fake Travis closer.

“I cannot believe you would fall for this,” Travis shouted from the door, drawing everyone’s attention. “This fake man pretending to be me, and for what? Clout? And you just believed him when he told you he was me?”

Gable looked slowly between the two men, trying to process what was happening. There were two Travises and one of them was very, very angry right now. But Gable didn’t have time to process things as the other Travis ran out the door and towards the woods. The “Travis” that they had been dancing with transformed, growing an inch or two and visibly changing his face and body, revealing someone else entirely.

Gable ran out after Travis as fast as they could.

Act IV

“Travis! Travis I’m sorry!” Gable shouted, running for the lake where they had met just yesterday. That felt like years ago now.

“How could you not know it was a fake? A fake me!” Travis’ voice echoed from ahead of them.

Gable didn’t say anything else. They had thought it wasn’t really him that they were dancing with, but never said anything.

They approached the beach, Travis sitting in the sand, head in his hands. “I trusted you, you know.”

“I… I know.”

“I wanted to come to the ball too. Bother you in front of your friends. But I guess I didn’t need to. Mr. Fakey Fake came and replaced me huh?”

“You know I didn’t mean--”

“Do I know that, though? How do I know you’re being sincere?”

Gable sighed and sat next to Travis in the sand, resting a hand on his arm. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I can show you that, how I can make it up to you, even if you are a little bit of a bastard. I could make the grandest of gestures, say all the right words, but it wouldn’t mean anything.”

Travis looked up at the touch, into Gable’s eyes as they spoke. He sighed, too, dropping his hands to the sand. “You’re right. I would have to just trust that you wouldn’t do it again. The only problem is, you can’t break our curse anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

“Only someone who’s never been in love and who falls in love with one of us swan-people can break it. I told you this already didn’t I?”

Gable just shook their head, not recalling any conversation like that happening.

Travis rolled his eyes and stood up. He offered a hand to Gable. “Would you share this dance with me anyway?”

Gable took his hand and stood up, pulling him close to dance with.

And the two swayed together, moving across the beach for a few peaceful minutes. They shared some jokes and toes were stepped on (by accident, of course), until the Forest Queen interrupted them.

She coughed loudly, not intending to be subtle about her presence as someone else appeared from the treeline behind her.

“Royal Gable, did you not promise to marry the man standing beside me? Did you not declare your love for him over the swan you are standing with now?” She asked.

Gable turned to face her, letting go of Travis except for his hand. “You tricked me into saying that! I have no love for that man, only for Travis, as stupid as he may be.”

“Hmm… indeed you were. But it still stands that your love with Travis will be forbidden, for now he cannot become human and your mother would never allow it. Tiberius, my wonderful son, on the other hand, is a human and is more than delighted to become your husband and to help the kingdom grow and prosper.”

Gable turned to look at Travis.

“Will you trust me now?” They said, looking into his eyes and gripping his hand tightly.

“Do I have any other choice?”

Gable smiled and rolled their eyes, pulling him with them towards the water. The water rose up to their knees, hips, chest, neck, eyes, and when their heads were covered they kept running anyway. Gable pulled Travis into a tight embrace as the last of their breaths left their bodies.

Epilogue

The other swans, who were humans for the night, came out of the forest and watched, as Travis and Gable ran into the water away from the Forest Queen.

“I’m certainly n-not sorry to see him go.” Dref said, watching the ripples slowly die off where the two went under.

“Hey, c’mon! Travis was a good friend and you just won’t admit it,” someone else said, clapping Dref on the back.

“Jonnit, I know you haven’t kn-known Travis as long as I have, but you would h-hate him if you spent more than twenty minutes with him after a-a hunt.”

“You’re probably right, but that doesn’t mean we won’t both miss him, right?”

“That’s certainly o-one way of putting it.”

The rest of the flock had now gathered around the beach, and together they watched as the souls of Travis and Gable danced together into the sky.

[packsbeforesnacks]

Little Lion Man || Kaden & Winn (feat. Ricky)

TIMING: Friday, July 17th, 2020, Midday LOCATION: Ricky Cordero’s Workshop, Harris Island PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup​ & @packsbeforesnacks​ (feat. @ricky-corderbro​) SUMMARY: Winn confronts an old enemy. Kaden regrets having friends. WARNINGS: None.

Winn had come up with some piss-poor ideas in his life, but meetin’ with Kaden fuckin’ Langley easily made it into the Top Five. Ricky, for his part, seemed to know exactly how bad an idea it was, offering up his workshop as neutral ground. While Winn wouldn’t be a problem — he couldn’t shift right now, even if he wanted to — there was no way to know how Kaden would react. Would Kaden respect the selkie enough to not cut Winn open on the floor? Hopefully! Was it foolish to hope that Kaden wouldn’t be able to sense the wolf? Probably! That part of him wasn’t gone. Just hidden away, somehow. The Full Moon had been the last time Winn had really felt that part of himself, his ‘wolf’ fading more ever since he’d spoken to Mercy. Winn hadn’t slept either, not since he’d touched the raven, not since Mercy had told him what he’d done. Truth is? He was terrified that he’d fall asleep, and that person would come back. All of it, together, was enough to drive a wolf-man insane. Sighing, Winn knocked on the door to Ricky’s workshop. No turnin’ back.

Kaden had no clue why Ricky had asked him over. Just said someone wanted to talk to him. Whatever weird tenuous friendship he had with the selkie, it was enough for him to show up to the guy’s workshop. No doubt Ricky had pulled a Regan and lied about the meetup time, told him to be there something like a half hour earlier than he needed to. So far he was doing nothing more than sitting in the corner, just throwing his knife in the air and catching it again and again as he waited. “This better be worth my time, Sneezly.” Ricky had all but ignored him and kept on working on something or other while Kaden practically pouted in the corner. He had no idea what half of the stuff was in here, but it was all well made, he could tell the craftsmanship was second to none. Not that he’d ever fucking say it outloud. Kaden perked up at the sound of footsteps by the door, heard them before the knock. Fucking finally. When the other guy walked in, Kaden tensed. He felt the tingle down his spine before he even saw who was there. He didn’t know who it was yet, couldn’t see, but he knew they were a fucking werewolf.

It’d been all of thirty minutes and Ricky was already regretting his involvement in this whole debacle. Kaden was lounging in the corner, tossing a knife in the air and sassing his way through the morning, and it didn’t help Ricky’s ability to focus on the project at hand. “Oh fucking shove it, Frenchie. You didn’t have shit else to do but sit here and drink my fancy coffee and annoy me while I’m trying to get work done.” He gestured to the very nice coffee tray he’d brought out, complete with some pastries he’d swung into town to pick up at Candy House earlier in the day. Taking a drink of his own coffee, he bent over the lid to one of the specialty coffins he’d been commissioned to make, frequently glancing back at the reference photos and incredibly detailed schematics he’d been up all night working on. He’d barely managed to start on one of the pictographic corners when there was a knock on the door and Winn came through. “Coffee on the table over there.” He gestured with one hand, before finishing the small symbol and looking up, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Aight. Please remember that you both are standing in a room that represents my entire livelihood. If you get in a fight in here and wreck shit you directly impact my ability to support myself. Which is why we’re in here. Everyone loves some guilt tripping incentive.”

Ricky reached under the table he was sitting in front of and pulled out a small hatchet, thunking it down. “We all went to summer camp, I’m sure yours involved murdering things and being deprived of normal childhood experiences, K. This functions along the same lines as a talking stick. Except this is the no talking stick. If you’re a dick or keep interrupting I’m going to hit you with the no talking stick. I don’t know if you can heal a detached finger. But we can find out together. Have some coffee and pastries. Be adults. Etc., etc. Go.” Bending back to his work he resumed carving, hoping that by some miracle he wouldn’t have to clean a dead body out of his workspace.

Well, this was awkward. Winn sat there for a second, unsure what to say. He had questions, but it seemed rude to lead with them. Really, had he and Kaden ever, like, actually met? I mean, he’d seen Kaden at the cookout, knew things about him from Blanche and Ariana, but this was — had to be — their first time… bein’ alone(ish) in a room together. Winn settled for standing up, walking over to Kaden in the corner, with as little tension in his form as he could manage, and holding out his hand. “I’m Winn Woods. It’s, um, nice to meet you. Thank you for comin’.”

Kaden had been sitting in the corner, arms folded across his chest as he waited for the werewolf to enter the building. It was a damn good thing for the wolf, whoever he was, that somewhere along the line Kaden had found some odd respect for Ricky. He wasn’t sure where the fuck it had come from, but he knew it was there simply because had they been anywhere else, Kaden might have considered decking the guy for even thinking about trying this little sit down right before getting up and walking away. Instead he paused, arms still crossed a moment, He held back the eyeroll that he wanted to unleash and put out his hand. He felt the hair on his arms stand on edge as he shook the werewolf’s hand reluctantly. “Kaden. But I guess you already knew that.” His teeth ground together a moment as his jaw clenched, arms returning right back to where they were before. “So what the hell is this about?” If this was some little ‘let my werewolves go speech’ or some attempt at intervention, he was out of here. And Ricky would be getting an earful later.

Winn couldn’t entirely mask the surprise on his face when Kaden took his hand, eyes a little wide. “We have mutual friends,” he tried, going the simplest route. Winn got the distinct feeling bringing up Blanche, or, worse, Regan, wouldn’t be the best idea, right now. “Including Ricky.” He returned to his seat, chewing and swallowing a bite of a chocolate croissant (maybe his allergy had disappeared with the wolf?) and sipping his coffee. “I, um,” there wasn’t a way to say this that wouldn’t bring up questions Winn wanted to avoid, “was hoping to ask you about… hunting, actually.” Not wanting to let Kaden make any assumption, he talked quickly, holding up one finger while he finished. “I have friends who are hunters, I wouldn’t abuse Ricky’s trust like that, I’m really tryin’ hard to just understand. I really, really don’t have any other motives here. Just… I want to know more about it.” He lowered his hand, biting at his lip and trying to keep steady eye contact.

Kaden didn’t love hearing that he had anything in common with a werewolf, especially not friends. He worried for his friend’s safety in this town far too often as it was. And given how little those friends seem to believe him about the dangers of werewolves, it concerned him even more. Still he nodded in acknowledgement. His coffee was left untouched for now. He couldn’t manage to feel comfortable enough to sit and drink and eat. Not while he could only focus on what was sitting in a room with him. His brow arched at Winn’s proposition. It felt like a trap. Like another way to sit and tell him why everything he did was wrong. He looked over at Ricky for any indication that he knew what this was going to be about but the selkie was just working away. Maybe this was genuine curiosity after all. He still didn’t trust it. “If you have other hunter friends, why not ask them?” he said curtly. “Hoping I’ll say something different?” Even without looking over at Ricky, he could feel the presence of the “no-talking” hatchet and figured he had to cooperate as long as he was here. With a small groan, he dropped his shoulders and tried to be a little less defensive. “Fine. What about it?”

Good question, Kaden. Why wasn’t he askin’ his friends? Winn opted, again, for honesty. “It’s because they’re my friends. I don’t want someone to sugarcoat their answers ‘cause they want to protect my feelings. And with you… We might have friends in common, but we’re not friends.” Was it too much to add yet to that? Probably. Winn took another swig of his coffee and rolled his neck, settling in for what was going to be, he assumed, an unfun conversation. Noticing the shift in Kaden’s body language, Winn tried to be as open as he possibly could. No danger, no threat. Just curiosity. He could only hope Kaden got the message. Where to start? Oddly, given that Kaden had literally put a crossbow bolt in his shoulder, Winn trusted the man. Trusted him to look out for humans, knew he hadn’t hurt Ariana or Layla. He knew that Kaden wasn’t… well, soft wasn’t how Winn would describe it, but Kaden was a far cry from Juliet — or even Adam. But. He wasn’t Gotch, either, or the hunters who attacked Ariana. Winn sighed. Maybe that was a decent place to start? “Hunters have Codes, right? I know they’re all different, family to family or whatever, but what’s, y’know, your Code? Personally now, or what you were reared on, or both. Actually, yeah, both?”

“Got that right,” Kaden muttered under his breath. Shit. That’s right. There was a chance Ricky may not have heard it, shitty selkie hearing, but there was no way the wolf across from him did. Sometimes he forgot that he wasn’t the only one with enhanced hearing. Oh well. He didn’t care much if he hurt this wolf’s feelings or not. Suppose that’s what he wanted anyway. Perhaps this wasn’t a completely misguided endeavor. He took a deep breath and held it in. Explaining his code wasn’t something he loved doing. Partially because it was hardly ever well met. It was exhausting. Felt like a waste of breath. That wasn’t his hesitation now. Now it was a matter of what the fuck his code was. He spent so long talking to Theo and Celeste about writing his own codes. But he still hasn’t figured it all out.

Okay. Easiest place to start was the Langley codes, what his family taught him. He could go from there. “You really want to know. Alright. What I was raised with. Langley family code states that nothing supernatural should live.” Funny, he didn’t expect that to send a pit in his stomach. Then he caught a glimpse of Ricky out of the corner of his eye. Shit. It was harder to spit it out knowing that, if he was following said code, his friend wouldn't be sitting there. He fucking hated this already. “Basic idea is that supernatural creatures are dangerous. And even the ones that don’t kill humans are like magnets for the rest. The world would be better without supernatural interference and humans would be safer. So hunters evolved to help protect humanity. And that’s our code. To help humanity.” Regurgitating what he was taught since he was a child was easy enough. What did he believe himself? A much harder question. “As for me. Now. I don’t know. I guess I’ve made exceptions. But I’m not about to walk away from hunting. Werewolves are still dangerous. Especially on the full moon. People aren’t going to stop dying at the hands of werewolves just because you all made a couple human friends. It’s not about to suddenly give you control or make you roll over like puppies.”

Winn barely knew Kaden, but the Langley family code sounded… draconian. Kaden was datin’ Regan, though, right? No way he didn’t know that she was fae. Between his drunken rambling, Blanche’s confirmation, and Winn’s own interactions with the good doctor, Winn was sure that Regan wouldn’t be able to keep it from Kaden. “That’s heavy,” Winn settled on, looking over at Ricky and making a soft sound in the back of his throat. He continued listening. “I, uh,” Kaden likely didn’t give a shit what he thought, but, “It’s fine not to know, I think.” Winn shrugged. “That means you’re tryin’ to figure shit out for yourself. That’s admirable, man. Honest.” Winn cocked his head to the side, staring at the hunter. “And, truth be told? I wouldn’t want you to walk away from huntin’, if I had a say in it. You’re right. Folks die ‘cause of werewolves. I’d like to think it’s all ‘bad’ werewolves, but I’m not naive. We’re all different, some of us aren’t cautious, some of us aren’t able to control the wolf any time, not just the full moon.” Winn leaned forward, hands clasped. “Like, if I was ‘bout to hurt a human, a werewolf, another supernatural… I mean, I’d hope y’all could stop me without puttin’ me down permanently. But we don’t all have the luxury of a decision, when it comes down to it.”

“I’m… ha, is it weird to say I’m glad to hear all that?” Winn looked at the floor, wringing his hands. “As much as we’re not all innocent, the same is true in reverse.” He decided to leave it at that, knowin’ Kaden didn’t need a big lecture from him on werewolves bein’ people. And ‘sides, Winn had somethin’ else he wanted to ask. Only problem was how to phrase it. “There are folks out there, though. Hunters that I’m not even just scared of. Kinds that I hate. And there are folks who aren’t even hunters, who just know there’s a market for werewolf… everything. And they don’t wait till the full moon, neither.” Winn stood, pulling his shirt over his head and turning around. It had faded, with time and werewolf healin’. But somethin’ done on a new moon… Well, he was still human. Sometimes, in some ways. “2015. I was sleepin’, next to someone who’d gone after me, knowin’ what I was. But I didn’t know that. I let him in, into my home, with my friends. Before dawn, mornin’ of the new moon, he drove a silver dagger into my back. Then went after the others.” Winn pulled his shirt back on, sitting down, looking older than his years. “What would you have done?”

Kaden had braced himself for the standard response that every supernatural or every bleeding heart gave. Only it didn’t come. His brow furrowed and he tried his best to wipe his confusion off his face, keep it neutral. But every sentence just, it didn't add up. He had anticipated being combated, fought with, he planned to be bearing white knuckles as he tried to be respectful of his friend and his workspace. “Right. Good to know some of you are reasonable.” That was all he could really manage to process of that. It was too confusing having a werewolf call his views admirable. Didn’t add up.

His arms were still crossed in front of his chest as the conversation continued. He sat still and listened to what was coming next. Waited for the other shoe to drop. And there it was. Not all hunters are innocent. The tirade didn’t drop, though. Not yet, at least. Kaden wasn’t unaware of the less than favorable hunters out there, but something about disowning them to a werewolf just wasn’t the same. Like talking poorly about family. It was one thing when he said it, when he disparaged trophy hunters and those like Montgomery, it sat a little different coming from a werewolf. Still, he sat there, cold stare on his face while the wolf took off his shirt. Alright, he did roll his eyes when that happened but all the same. His gaze steeled again at his question. “What, if I were a wolf? Or if it were reversed or…” He trailed off and let out a strained sigh. “I don’t know.” Kaden wanted with everything inside of him to say he wouldn’t retaliate or defend himself. That he would never murder someone. He wasn’t sure he could. The thought hit him like a ton of bricks. He chewed the inside of his lip a moment and looked back over to his coffee a moment, sitting there getting cold, untouched. “Might defend myself. I don’t know. Why are you asking?”

This was where it got tricky. Winn winced at Kaden’s question, truly not sure how to approach this. It was hard when he didn’t remember. But, he supposed, it didn’t matter that he didn’t remember. “I’m not askin’ ‘cause I think self-defense is wrong.” In fact, it was a thing Winn had forgiven himself for, largely. But… a thing he knew, now, had only been the beginning of somethin’ that he didn’t know how to process, what to think about. “Defend yourself or don’t. I think that depends on the person. But, I don’t think anyone wants to die.” Ha. Ironic. Super ironic. He swigged the rest of his coffee, buying himself time to compose himself. “It changed me, that… betrayal. You said your family raised you to think nothing supernatural should live. I— For a while, I thought all hunters were like that, that all hunters… y’know, would kill without even givin’ us the benefit of the doubt. That resentment, that anger, it built in me. Until I let it out.” There was no reason to go into the gory details. “I don’t remember it. But I got a rude awakenin’. Don’t need forgiveness, don’t expect it. But, um,” he sighed, “I’m gonna be gone, maybe, by Monday. Gone as in… gone-gone. Dead. I guess I wanted… I don’t know what I wanted, but I thought… I wanted someone to know. Someone who could do better, for the both of us.” He sighed. “You prolly don’t want to be, I dunno, the bearer of a legacy, ‘specially not mine. But if I could… I don’t know. Don’t want anyone to have to go through all that, just to realize that shit’s… complicated,” Winn finished, lamely. He waited for Kaden to say something, to pass judgment.

Hearing the wolf nearly confess outright to murdering hunters made Kaden bristle. It was hard not to. Hard not to see the clear image of his parent’s mangled bodies at the mention alone. He could feel his fingernails digging into his palm again, his teeth gritting together. “Good, cause you’re not getting it,” he couldn’t help but snap at the word forgiveness. He could feel the judgment from the seal across the room, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t something he could offer anymore than he could be upset about hearing there would be one less werewolf in the world. Circumstances didn’t fucking matter to him. Less werewolves? Only a good thing. “Legacy?” He huffed. “What do you know about legacy? I got enough of that without your help.” Maybe it was because he’d dragged up his hunter’s code earlier that he was on edge. He felt like he was failing at upholding his family’s legacy the longer he sat here. It made his skin crawl, he wanted to wriggle out of it, make the feelings of failure die down. He wondered if this werewolf wanted to be someone else some days as much as he did. “Look, I don’t know what you want from me. But are we done here? Did you confess your sins now? Feel better?”

Winn had trained as a counselor, could see the tell-tale signs of… something, buildin’ in Kaden. Honestly, the man was takin’ the almost-a-murder-confession better than Winn had expected. Ricky, for his part, was still workin’ resolutely on his project, but, then, Winn knew Ricky’s feelings on hunters — complex, to say the least, despite his apparent friendship with that-hunter-what-who’d-shot-him. “I… want you to be resolute, in whatever your path is. I want you to go into it with a clear head, I want you to think ‘bout what you wanna be, who you wanna be. I fucked up. Might kill me. Doesn’t need to end up killin’ you. I want you to— I dunno, make sure when you go out on the Moon, make sure you’re doin’ it for reasons that you can live by.” Winn felt his posture go slightly defensive, as if thinking Kaden might pull out the crossbow again and shoot him in plain sight of Ricky. “You shot me, on a full moon once. Silver crossbow bolt, right into my shoulder. I was drunk, and high, and I don’t think I was a danger to anyone other than myself, stumblin’ through those woods. Hell, my best plan to escape you was ‘drop a tree on him.’” Winn laughed, without humor. “It was close to dawn. If you’d caught up to me, naked and still-drunk and scared, what would you have done, Kaden? I don’t need an answer, but you need to have that answer for yourself. I don’t feel better. I won’t. If I live, I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ up for that, helpin’ people others won’t, people who don’t think they deserve it.” He gave a soft smile. “This is the beginning. Or the end. Ask me Monday.”

Kaden grit his teeth as this werewolf told him what he wanted for the hunter’s life. Who the fuck was he to dictate all that. And why did he even give a shit? “That’s great. I’m glad you care or whatever but like you said before, we’re not friends.” Still, he shifted a little in his seat at the words. He hated that any of them resonated at all. There was no way he could know. Fuck that. Kaden wasn’t some open book to read and even if he was, he hadn’t invited this. He just agreed to this as a favor to Ricky, not this Winn guy. Where did he get off telling Kaden about himself like he knew him at all? As the wolf displayed his scar, the only thing that ran through his mind was: Shame I didn’t kill you. A wave of guilt ran through him that he didn’t expect, almost like he’d said it aloud, like Ricky could hear him and was judging him further. No, he was imagining that, surely. And why the fuck did he care anyway? He was a hunter. Shooting werewolves was his job. Killing them even more so. So there was no need to feel guilt looking at the scar, taking in the wolf’s words, contemplating his scenario. Right? “I—” he started, but thought better of it. No. He didn’t owe anyone a fucking explanation. “It doesn’t matter what I would have done. That’s not what happened. So save your guilt trip.”

This wasn’t going anywhere. Not anywhere he liked at least. He didn’t need to sit here dealing with this. He’d done what he said he would. He showed up. He listened. There was no punching or destruction. “Whatever it is, I don’t care. And this is the end of this conversation.” Kaden stood up, feeling a little bad that the coffee was wasted. And so was Ricky’s time and patience. “If this was some sneak attempt at an intervention, seal boy, you can keep it.” Sure, he had a feeling Ricky had shit all to do with this crap, just agreed to host and nothing more. But it would have made more sense to him if that was the end goal than whatever it was Winn was looking for. A werewolf he didn’t know, a werewolf he shot claiming to look out for a hunter’s interests or morals or whatever it really was? That was unfathomable. And he refused to listen to it.

[twdeadfanfic]

I ain’t sick, Pt.2

Daryl x Reader

Chapter 2/4

Summary: Daryl has gotten sick with fever, but he won’t admit it and slow down until he just can’t keep going, passing out and ending up bedridden, haunted by nightmares and trapped in deliriums about his past abuse while the reader tries to take care of him.(Or: Me indulging in how much I want to take care of Daryl, comfort him, and protect him from everything.) Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff…just my kind of things. Prison era.

Inspired by a request. It’ll be updated twice a week, next chapter coming on Monday.

If you want to read more Daryl x Reader series, mini-series, one-shots and drabbles, check my masterlist in the description of this blog.

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You didn’t have to walk for long until you saw another walker dead on the ground, and a few meters ahead you found another two, one of them with a broken bolt in his head. Daryl… Worry closed your stomach but as you looked around you couldn’t see him or anything that told you where had he gone. You kept walking but you didn’t find any more walkers, neither any other trace of Daryl, and so you decided to backtrack, see if you had missed something.

You had walked past the first walker you had found when a noise caught your attention. Looking towards it, you saw a walker stumbling its way to you. You unsheathed your knife, but before you could do anything, you heard a whistle and the walker fell down to the ground, arrow embedded into its forehead.

You turned around and spotted Daryl making his way to you. He looked worse than this morning, worse than even just an hour ago, his skin paler than you had ever seen him, and even from distance you could notice his laborious breath and the layer of sweat that covered him.

“The hell you doing out here alone!” You couldn’t help but snap, scared and worried as you were.

“Hunting.” Without looking at you, Daryl went to yank his arrow back.

“You’re sick! You’re sick and you have gotten worse!” You stepped in front of him so he’d look at you but he didn’t. “You can’t just go out all by yourself! Putting down walkers and what not!”

“I always hunt by myself,” he grumbled, annoyed. “Those walkers ain’t nothing.”

“But you are sick!” You repeated, exasperated. “You’re not feeling well, anything could have gone wrong, anything could have happened, you have a fever…” You felt tears in your eyes just thinking about it. Daryl was a hothead, sure, stubborn, and not one for resting, but still, he was being irresponsible and it scared you.

“Told you I’m fine!” Daryl snapped, though when he looked at you he seemed to realize how scared you were, and his voice softened. “Hey, Y/N…I’m sorry I made you worry…” he apologized, taking you aback. “But I’m okay.”

“You’re not. You’re ill, and you have a fever, and those things are dangerous now, and you wouldn’t let us help, and you go out alone, and you wouldn’t listen!” You half snapped, half whimpered.

Daryl looked at you as if he didn’t know what to say. “Let’s go back, okay?” He offered, eyeing you carefully.

You nodded and began walking, upset. “I’m not even going to tell you to take the medicine, and rest, because what for, you won’t listen…” Daryl didn’t say anything, and you both walked back to the prison in silence.

Once you were sure Daryl was safe inside and wasn’t planning on going out again, at least for that day, you went to your cell. You needed time to calm down. You thought that maybe you had overreacted, but you couldn’t help how worried you had been knowing that Daryl was alone and outside while he was ill with fever, how scared you were when you saw those walkers…

After a while, Daryl came to the cell too, hair wet after having a shower that did nothing to lower the heat you still could feel radiating from him when he sat down next to you on the bed. For a while, he didn’t say anything and neither did you, until he finally spoke.

“I really need to teach you how to track, you were doing a real shitty job today. Going in the wrong direction and all.”

“It’s not funny!” You snapped, shifting to lie down on the bed with your back to him, upset all over again.

“I’m not saying it is…” Daryl grumbled, letting out a sigh, dropping onto the bed too. “Told you I’m fine, Y/N.”

“No, you aren’t…” You looked at him over your shoulder. “But I’ve given up on trying to make you rest, take the medicines, or anything to help you. Just…just don’t go out alone again or anything like that while you’re like this…”

“Okay…” Daryl murmured, and you didn’t think you could ask anything else from him, you didn’t know if you could even believe his word anymore.

Daryl woke you up twice that night. First when a coughing fit shook him, despite his efforts to pretend nothing was wrong while he kept saying he was perfectly fine. The second time, you woke up when you heard him mumbling and whimpering in his sleep. He still felt warmer than usual, warmer than he should, and you wondered if he was in pain or just having a bad dream.

He kept whimpering and mumbling and you reached to stroke his hair as you tried to shush him and calm him down. He flinched away from your touch but at the same time snuggled closer, and so you held him until he calmed down.

“Are you hurting?” You asked when he woke up.

“No,” he rasped, as you knew he would.

“You still have a fever,” you held your hand to his forehead. “It might have gotten worse.” You were sure Daryl was going to say something, but he just nuzzled into your touch, which worried you more. “I’m going to wake Hershel, tell him to give you something.”

“No,” Daryl wrapped an arm around you when you went to get up.

“Daryl, it’s for your own good…” You tried to move again but he held you tighter.

“No.” His hand fisted on your shirt and he pulled at you to lie down again. “Please.”

He rested his head on your chest, his arm around your middle as if trying to prevent you from leaving, and you didn’t have the heart to move away when he asked like that, maybe you should, but you couldn’t. Instead, you wrapped your arm around him and began to stroke his hair. You could make him take the medicine in the morning.

*

Daryl didn’t take the medicine in the morning, didn’t let Hershel check him, even though it was painfully clear he wasn’t feeling well, his voice as hoarse as you had ever heard it, his eyes glazed, and his skin pale and sweaty. Still, instead of resting, he joined the group who was going to clear another cellblock. Nothing anybody said made him change his mind, and you were afraid that if they didn’t let him help, then he’d go alone by himself again. With an exasperated sigh, you took your gun and your knife, and followed everyone with Daryl by your side.

Once the main area of the cellblock was cleared, all of you paired up to inspect the corridors, see what you could find and put down any walker that might be stranded there. You paired up with Daryl, peering worriedly at him. You could hear his laborious breathe, the way in which his hands shook when he trained his crossbow in front of him. He’d been slower than his usual self when putting down the walkers in the main area, but you hadn’t said anything in front of everyone, afraid of Daryl snapping. You reached for his arm now.

“Daryl…you’re not feeling well, don’t say you are. Let’s go back.”

Daryl moved his arm away from your hand, stubborn. “No. Let’s clear this place.”

“Fine…” You sighed, rolling your eyes.

At least there didn’t seem to be many walkers in the place, if you were lucky you could just sweep through the area and leave without any problem. For a while, you just found dead bodies on the ground and empty shelves. It was disappointing, but it was better than a herd of walkers.

At some point, though, you hear the growl of some walkers, and as you approached the area you found a group of them. It was small enough, though, just three of them munching on something.

“I got it,” you said, unsheathing your knife, though Daryl was already loosening the bolt, putting down one of them.

You put down the other two before he reloaded his crossbow, once again slower than usual, and when you turned to look at him, you noticed Daryl’s hands trembling as he put the string into place, and the way in which he seemed kind of dizzy when he looked up from it.

“Why don’t we go back already?” You suggested again.

“No, let’s see if we can find something here…” he rasped, gesturing around at the big room weakly. “Go through that area and I’ll check these cabinets.”

“Alright…”

You went to do your task, trying to do it as quick but efficient as possible so you could leave soon. You were still at it when you heard a clank that startled you, and when you turned around you saw Daryl had dropped his crossbow. He was looking down, head hanging low, not doing any movement to retrieve his crossbow, not that you had ever seen him letting it fall down before.

“Daryl…”

“Maybe…” he muttered, voice so low that you could barely hear it. “Maybe I ain’t feeling that well…”

Hearing him say that, the way in which his voice sounded, the way he looked, you felt fear paralyzing you for a couple of seconds, before you rushed to him.

“Okay…okay…” You tried to calm down, feeling as if your heart might burst out of your chest at how fast it was beating. “Come on, we’re going back to our cellblock, alright?”

Daryl nodded his head once, so weakly that you could have missed it, but he didn’t move. When you bent down and picked his crossbow he reached out a shaky hand as if to take it from you, but he didn’t seem that coordinated and you strapped the bow to your back, deciding to carry it yourself.

“Come on…” You took Daryl’s hand, which was so hot it felt like burning. You began walking, Daryl stumbling next to you, looking worse than you’d ever seen him. It seemed as if each step took him more and more effort, his eyes more and more unfocused, and you tried to control your fear as you wrapped one of his arms around you.

“I’m fine…” He murmured, but he let you support part of his weight, as if he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

You tried walking you both to the first corridor and then to your cellblock, but Daryl’s weight felt heavier and heavier as he leaned more on you, and you could see him fighting to stay conscious, until he couldn’t stop it anymore, his head hanging loose as he passed out and you stumbled under his weight.

“Damnit…” You tried to stop Daryl from falling down, dropping onto your knees so you could lower him down, holding him to you as you tried to think what to do.

“Sorry…” Daryl whispered so weakly, seeming to be barely conscious, as he tried to move but couldn’t, falling into your arms again. “I’m good…”

He wasn’t, that much was obvious, and it didn’t look like he was going to get better, if only worse. He was fainting again and you tried not to panic. You shifted him so he could rest against the wall. You needed to go looking for help, but you hated the idea of leaving him alone and defenseless.

You knew there weren’t walkers behind, but you weren’t so sure about what you might find ahead, most of the corridors had seemed clear, but it wouldn’t be the first time that a group of walkers seemed to come out of nowhere in that maze of a prison. Still, you needed to do something, and so you walked forwards, giving Daryl worried glances, until you reached the hall in which you had gotten separated from the others.

They hadn’t come back yet and you didn’t know what to do. You didn’t dare to venture much further while leaving Daryl alone and unconscious behind, but neither could you carry him alone. Making noise was dangerous, you knew it, but you didn’t know what else to do, and you hoped all the corridors were clear by now.

“There’s somebody close? Rick? I need help! Please!” You called for the others, as loud as you dared.

It seemed nobody heard you, but then you heard an unmistakable growl and you cursed under your breath as you saw a couple of walkers stumbling out of a dark corridor. They hadn’t been there before so they must have wandered from someplace else, and you hoped there weren’t more than those.

You still had Daryl’s crossbow and you took it, reloading it as Daryl had taught you and aiming for one of the walkers, putting it down silently. You had just reloaded again and aimed for the other walker when you saw a group approaching. Shit…

“Help!” You yelled, not caring about being loud now, you were just worried about the monsters getting to Daryl. “Rick! Anybody! Help!”

You loosened the arrow to put down another and began to backtrack to the corridor where you had left Daryl, the walkers slowly by surely moving to you.

You stopped midway, closer enough to Daryl to see him but far enough to hopefully put down the walkers before they could get too close. You looked back at Daryl, still passed out against the wall, and charged against the walkers that were getting closer, putting them down by knife.

“Y/N?” You looked back at Daryl’s weak voice, distracting you almost enough to let a walker grab you, but you hold it back and stabbed your knife into its head. “Y/N?” He called weakly again, his glazed eyes trying to focus on you. He went to grab his knife, but it dropped onto the floor, and then he tried to get up, stumbling against the wall again. “Y/N…”

You didn’t have time to tell him to stop trying to get up before you had to charge against more walkers, but as more approached you knew in the back of your mind that they were too many for you, but you refused to acknowledge it. You weren’t going to let them get to Daryl, no matter what. Before you could think that everything was lost, thought, Rick, Carol, Glenn and Maggie showed up, charging against the walkers too, and you all put all the monsters down.

“What happened?!”

“It’s Daryl…I think he’s very ill, he’s burning and he passed out! We have to get him to the cell.”

Rick wrapped one of Daryl’s arms around him and Glenn the other, dragging him to the cellblock, while he slipped in and out of consciousness, murmuring unintelligible things, though he never seemed to be really conscious. They dropped him onto the bed, you sitting down next to him, and Hershel rushed into the cell to check him.

Daryl seemed unconscious, but then he flinched away from Hershel roughly. “Don’t touch me!”

“Hey, hey, shhh…” You pressed a hand to Daryl’s chest to hold him down, your other hand soothingly stroking his hair, while he kept murmuring and squirming, trying to open his eyes and failing. “Shhh, it’s okay…” He was weak enough for Hershel to be able to check him, and the worried look in the vet’s face just scared you even more. “What?”

“His fever…I can’t know exactly how high is it, but too high. We need to lower it, or else…”

“Or else what?”

Hershel didn’t say anything, just reached out to squeeze your arm reassuringly, and then he began explaining to you what needed to be done in order to help Daryl. You tried to focus on what Hershel was telling you, but you couldn’t help your mind from wander, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe…could Daryl…could he die from this? From a fever? Just like that…it didn’t seem real. It couldn’t be. Not like that, not after everything you all had gone through, not after everything he had survived.

It just couldn’t be.

.............................................................

And...we’re diving into deliriums...

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ML: Are They Worthy? Chapter 81: Of Monsters and Men!/Superbug (The Battle for Paris, Part 1)

A cloud of darkness had descended upon Paris. At the center of it was a being who was entirely purple, masculine, had wings, antennae, grizzly sharp teeth, and void pupil-less eyes. Their fingers were clawed. He looked around. He noticed that he was being filmed.

“Heh heh” he laughed. “Greetings Paris” he said to his audience. “I’ve been waiting for a long time. Watching. Doing nothing but observing without the power to do anything. But finally, I am free! And now I shall conquer.

Ah. Forgive my manners. My name is Nurushwa. I am a kwami. A kwami labeled evil by some. A label I don’t hate. I’ll be blunt with you all. I wish to take over, and once I do, I will free my captive brothers and sisters also deemed evil. This can be as painless or painful as necessary. I don’t mind either way, but my personal preference is painful.” Nurushwa laughed.

Meanwhile, all the heroes and Hawk Moth were watching this unfold on their devices. “Evil kwami?” Ladybug remarked.

She got a call and took it, while also keeping an eye on Nurushwa. It was Sting. “Ladybug! Web-Spinner and I are converging on your position! Have every hero do the same!”

“What’s going on?” Ladybug asked.

“That thing is an evil kwami!” Sting replied. “It’s apparently a powerful creature that’s been locked away for quite some time!”

“How did it get out?” Ladybug asked.

“It takes three things to unleash it!” Sting explained. “A close proximity to the area in which they are locked, an affinity to miraculous energy, and overwhelming negative emotion! Someone MUST have found them!”

“But who?” Ladybug asked.

Nurushwa was still laughing when he started gagging a little bit. Suddenly and viscerally out of his mouth pops the head and torso of Lila. She takes a few breaths. “Paris! I am sorry! I don’t deserve your kindness! I lied! About everything! Truly, I am a terrible person! But please! Stop this monster! And if you could find it in your heart! Save me as well!”

“Well that answers that” Ladybug said.

Nurushwa used one of his arms to push Lila back in. “A feisty one.” He turned his attention back to the cameras. “Enough dilly-dallying! Now my pretties, DESCEND!” The dark cloud broke up. It turns out, they were a cloud of akumas. They rapidly descended on the city, engulfing the citizenry one by one. However, instead of any unique villains, they turned into beings that looked similar to Nurushwa.

Meanwhile, Lila was inside Nurushwa, fearing for her life. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you everything you’ve wanted. Power. Friends. Control.”

“I don’t care about that anymore!” Lila said, sobbing.

“Oh, but it isn’t a choice,” Nurushwa told her. “There’s just one thing I’m asking in return.”

“What?!’ Lila hissed.

“Your humanity” Nurushwa answered.

Lila started to feel her body start to fade away. “What are you doing to me?!”

“Heh heh” Nurushwa laughed. “I’m simply turning you into one of us.” Lila was even more scared. “Ah. You have the soul of a fox kwami. Trickstern would love a new playmate.” He laughed as Lila was struggling while her body was slowly turning into a kwami like him.

Within a matter of minutes, all of the heroes had met up with Ladybug and everyone else. “What do we do?!” Honey Bee asked. “There’s a crazy, maniacal...thing, and it has Lila!”

“AND it’s taking the rest of the city” Chienne Reaction pointed out.

Hawk Moth turned to face Adrien. “Adrien! Get out of here! Go to our house! You should be safe!”

Adrien looked at Hawk Moth. He smiled and sighed. “Sorry, but I can’t.” Hawk Moth was confused. “Plagg! Claws out!” he turned into Cat Noir.

Hawk Moth was surprised. But he shook himself out of it. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now, we need to deal with Nurushwa!”

“So, you’re willing to help out old man?” Carapace asked.

Hawk Moth glared at him. “I’ll be the first to tell you that I’m no angel. But today, I’d like to be on their side. I’ll do anything I can to help.”

Ladybug looked up at Nurushwa. “Well, Sting said that they need a person. What if we try to free Lila from him?”

“It’s a good idea” Rooster Gold started.

Bleat Star came in. “But I don’t think he’d let us get close to him!”

“Even with all of us, he’s creating an army as we speak!” Hog Wild reminded her.

Ladybug thought. She looked at Chienne Reaction and Hawk Moth. “That’s it! We need to power up! Chienne Reaction! Power up Hawk Moth! Once he’s powered up, he can bestow more power unto us! Once we have that power, we could take the fight to him more easily!”

“Plus, we could save people, and have Hawk Moth give them powers as well” Cat Noir said jumping in.

“Right!” Ladybug said. “Are you up for it?”

Chienne reaction thought. “While I don’t LIKE supporting Hawk Moth, I think it’s our only option.” She breathed out. “Here goes. Kiss of Luck!” She powered up Hawk Moth.

“Thank you,” Hawk Moth said. Butterflies surrounded him. “As a reward, here you go” he powered up a butterfly and infused it with Chienne Reaction’s miraculous. She transformed so that she was a bit taller, a bit stronger, the color of her costume was a bit darker, and she had three heads. “Cerberus. Once I give everyone else a Tenshi, I want you to power them up further. Can you do that?” Cerberus nodded. “Excellent. Now then, who’s next?” He created an army of tenshi, and one by one, they fused with the miraculous.

Bunnyx gained a light blue helmet with the bunny ears still attached, light blue elbow pads and knee pads, and was now floating on a giant chromatic light blue pocket watch. “Time Hopper!”

Viperion’s arms and legs got covered in different bangles, but the original one was still distinct. He also had a headband, which lifted his hair a little bit, a belt, and a metal mask going across his mouth, all of which were similar to his bangle. “Viperidae!”

Pegasus grew longer dreads, and they were no longer tied up. His shoes were edged with a bit of metal. Additionally, he had two black spots on the palms of his hand. Aside from that, he was made a little taller, and a little stronger. “Wyld Stallyn!”

Tigress’s stripes were made bolder, and more jagged. Her hair was let down, but more frizzed. She also grew nail-like claws of different colors on each one. “Neon Tigress!”

King Monkey gained a golden light around him, as well as a cloud-like essence coming off of his gloves, footwear, and tail. “Wukong!”

Ryuko’s face was enveloped with a dragon mask which kept the horns. Ryuko’s eyes peered through the nostrils, while the eyes on the dragon head were white, but reverberated an energy to them. Additionally, all of the black on Ryuko’s costume, aside from the seal, turned to that same white color as the eyes, and was also radiating energy. “Ryukyu!”

Hog Wild’s shoulder pads grew hair-like thistles. The tusk design on her respirator grew out into actual tusks. And her hair stood on end, with a line of pink going down the middle. “War Hog!”

Rooster Gold’s feet grew three talons. His hair grew a little bit longer. His crossbow became bigger, and he was also surrounded by two rings of feathers which made him look like an atom molecule. “Thundercluck!”

Scouries grew little tufts of hair on her suit to make her look more mangy, and her natural hair followed suit. Her torso was adorned with a multiplication sign with the number 1 in the middle of it. She gained longer mask ties, and she was also given a small, floating monitor. “Miss Souriesous!”

BleatStar’s horns grew in size. The suit’s black feet and hands turned gold to reflect the color of the bell. His hair was let down, leaving it a bit messy, and he had a lightning strike design going across his face. “Abaaaddin Sane!”

Each section of Oxenfree’s costume was given a little scale which read out how hard or soft he is. At the moment, all of the needles were in the middle. “Kiloxenfree!”

Paonne Ange gained two sets of deep blue wings; one set on her upper back, and one on her lower. Her domino mask gained a vertical rectangle in the middle of it. “Paonne Archange!”

Sting’s arms grew pincers that acted as gauntlets around his fists. His tail grew bigger, and his stinger grew sharper. “Heraculeaus!”

Web Spinner’s fangs became more pronounced. Her costume grew four legs that could hold her up. She also gained an hourglass insignia on her chest and back. “Web Weaver!”

Honey Bee’s decorative wings became real, and her honey colored gloves felt like they were made of tangible honey. Also, her hair was let down, and she had two more streaks going through it, one black, one honey colored. “Honey Queen!”

Carapace gained giant, shell-shaped knee pads, elbow pads, and shoulder pads, as well as a face scarf that covered the lower half of his face. “Murtle!”

Rena Rouge’s hair was let out of its ponytail, and the little tails in her hair stood on end. The black sections on her arms and legs gained orange lines that followed the skeletal structure of those areas. “Rintails!”

The hood of Judgement Wolf’s cloak was made more wolf-like. His cloak was now fully open, and his torso was adorned with three gray claw marks. He also gained claw-like nails on all fingers, except the one the miraculous resided on. “Lupus Judgement!”

Cat Noir’s entire body came to look like a black mist, but you can still see a tangible shape. Also, his claws were more pronounced. “Ultra Noir!”

Finally, Ladybug’s outfit changed so that she was white with red spots, instead of red with black spots. “Superbug!”

Cerberus powered up the tenshied heroes even further. Paonne Archange was next, as she brought back everyone’s sentimonster from a few days ago that had one. Heraculeaus got Golden Dragon back, and Web Weaver got a similar one called Jade Dragon. Paonne Archange also gave one to Hawk Moth; a humanoid figure who looked like Gabriel, except he was all white, with the exception of a red cross going across his chest, whom Paonne Archange dubbed “Healer.” Royal Guard came in and powered everyone up even further.

“Alright,” Superbug commanded, “I will go and confront Nurushwa directly and try and figure out a way to free Lila. While that’s going on, the rest of you are going to fight these akumas, save the people, and have Hawk Moth and Paonne Archange create more heroes and sentimonsters to aid us in that. Cerberus will continue to power people up as well. Are we ready?!” Everyone nodded. “Then let’s go!”  The heroes spread out from their position, while Hawk Moth stayed there to create more tenshi to spread around the citizenry.

Before they went off fully, Murtle stopped and pulled Wyld Stallyn  and Time Hopper aside. “Hold on” Murtle said. He created a barrier behind Hawk Moth that stretched across the remaining city on that side. “Nurushwa does not have anyone there!” Murtle explained. “Whoever we free, send them there.”

At that moment, a large group of people started appearing. Time Hopper shrugged. “I guess I already did.” Murtle nodded, shook his head, and the three of them left off.

While this plan came together fast, Nurushwa’s power was unlike anything they had seen, and he already amassed a powerful, sizable army to fight on his behalf. However, the process of turning Lila into a kwami was taking its time since Lila was his primary power source after being locked away for many years. “Why are you doing this?!” Lila asked.

“Because I can,” Nurushwa answered for his prisoner. “I have the power to exert dominance over others. The other kwamis go on and one about peace, and unity, and helping others. It’s disgusting. Once I have freed my like-minded brothers and sisters from the prisons those other kwamis made, we can finally subjugate these pathetic humans.”

Lila remained silent. She knew she couldn’t preach of the ideals he threw aside because she herself failed to live up to them herself. She realized she felt like she was doing what he was. “What, no comeback?” Nurushwa taunted. “Of course not. You’re just like me. And soon, that will fully be realized.”

Lila silently cried. I guess there really is no hope for someone like me.

There was an explosion. “What the?” Nurushwa sensed his army was taking several blows. “Grrrr. HOLD STRONG! WE’RE GOING TO TAKE CONTROL! NO BACKING DOWN!” he yelled at his army, to which they cheered. The army continued making advances.

Superbug was bee-lining it to Nurushwa, taking out what she could of his army, with Royal Guard doing a lot of the heavy lifting. Despite the fact that there were now tens of thousands, she was more confident than ever that her team, Hawk Moth, and the army he was conjuring up would handle them.

Ultra Noir was keeping close to Superbug, but focusing on the enemies rather than where she was going. His misty features made it hard for the enemies to hit him. Ultra Noir also found that he could create Cataclysms as big or as small as he wanted. He used it to destroy parts of buildings to land on Nurushwa’s unwilling minions, as well as destroy them outright, while keeping the humans inside safe. He continued his attack.

Meanwhile, his Sentimonster, Guardian Angel, flew close by; taking out Nurushwa’s army with their light powers and feather manipulation. They also had the ability to heal those who had been recently freed from Nurushwa’s control.

Lupus Judgement was going around freeing everyone he could with his powered up Reveal Claw. He only took out his sword when he needed to defend himself. Lucky for him, this was a rare instance because Firefighter was backing him up at every turn.

As Rintails was running, she saw Nurushwa’s akumas descending. She grabbed Murtle and said “I have an idea! I’ll lure them with fake people, and you capture them in little bubbles!”

“Sounds awesome!” Murtle. Rintails nodded and began phase one of her plan. The akumas took the bait, which allowed Murtle to do phase two. To protect them from danger, Composite Ladybug and Bubbleblast worked together to fight off any attackers.

Honey Queen was flying around the city. On top of her beebots immobilizing Nurushwa’s army, she could also shoot sticky honey from her gloves to make them stick to where they were. Following behind her was Pride Monster, who would swallow the akumatized people and spit them back out free of Nurushwa’s control.

Also taking to the skies was Paone Archange. She flew around granting people Sentimonsters. She would usually coordinate this with people being Tenshied by Hawk Moth to gain even more power. She would protect herself when needed, but she also received aid from Buzzstormer and Cerberus. Cerberus would also go around powering up the Tenshis to make them even stronger.

Time Hopper and Wyld Stallyn were working together to track and find anyone free from Nurushwa and time travel/teleport them to the area behind the defencive wall, while also taking care of anyone attacking them directly. MX-01, apart from being really good at taking out Nurushwa’s soldiers, was able to locate these people and relay that information to Speedstaker, who in turn would bring those people closer to Wyld Stallyn and Time Hopper. Time Hopper would invite people onto her watch-board and travel to the safe zone; instantly traveling back to take enemies by surprise. Wyld Stallyn would create portals for himself when the situation called for it, but he would also use the spots on his hands to make portals for others. His was his main way of getting people to the wall.

Viperidae launched chronospheres from each of his straps. Each Chronosphere covered a section of the city. He and Soundwave Rider would make their way through the city, battling the monsters. Every so often, each strap, at a different time, would reset everything in the chronosphere it had influence over, on the chance that things would go wrong in said Chronosphere. The heroes inside would be made aware so they could make adjustments.

Wukong would blast out disruptive objects to the minions, causing them to lose control. Valkyrie Archer would then use their arrows to pin the monsters. Both would attack together if the situation called for it.

Kiloxenfree was fighting the creature head on. Most of the time, he remained hard all around, since that made him practically invincible. However, if the situation called for it, he would go soft in some places; most notable whenever something was thrown at him, it would fly back at whoever threw it. Loveheart also helped with the offensive front.

Miss Souriesous was also fighting Nurushwa’s monsters, when one of them snuck up on her. However, another Miss Souriesous, at full size and with a number 2 on her X, attacked them. The two Miss Souriesouses smiled and nodded at each other. Miss Sourieous 1 looked at her monitor and saw that her plan of dividing and conquering was going well, with many Miss Souriesouses of differing sizes fighting these monsters all across Paris. Courificator helped by attacking these monsters, and providing transport to some of the smaller Miss Souriesouses.

Ryukyu was storming the area and fighting the Nurushwa army head on. Whenever she would call upon one of her weather powers, not only would the seal glow to the corresponding effect, but the eyes on the dragon mask would change color to match, as well as the sections on her costume that matched. This meant that not only could she change into the effect itself, but those parts would have the powers of said effect; making them really useful in combat. Aiding her was Oniposte, and their battle prowess alongside each other was astounding.

Neon Tigress was doing her best to remain calm. This is so that whenever she shot out a Reverb, the monsters around her would calm down as well. Because she was powered up, she could shoot out many reverbs at a time. Threadmaker would then tie them all up, and the two would continue to advance.

Wherever War Hog went, she would distort her surroundings before battle. She would do this during battle too, but doing it before allowed her to make the area to her liking, and it also gave Rebel Cat better opportunities for surprise attacks.

Thundercluck worked on keeping his distance and sniping the monsters with Down Strikes, while Pagemaster summoned as many drawings as it could to aid in the attack. Whenever one of Nurushwa’s monsters got close, they would touch one of the feathers circling Thundercluck and instantly fall asleep. This was helpful, as it allowed Thundercluck time to move when necessary.

Abaaaddin Sane notices that one he began harvesting feelings, they would continue to come to him. This gave him more than enough ammo to take down Nurushwa’s army in many creative ways. Following him was Multi-Bleat, who would often assist Abaaadin Sane with his takedowns.

Heraculeaus and Web Weaver were working together. Web Weaver would corner the monsters, alongside Golden Dragon and Jade Dragon, and the Heraculeaus would use his stinger to unlock the binds of the akumas to the people. Healer was not too far behind, and he would heal the citizenry after they were free, and protect them from getting akumatized again.

Nurushwa was furious that his minions were taking severe blows. “Well well, it looks like we’ll have another thing in common” Lila chuckled. “Losing to Ladybug.”

“Grrrr” huffed Nurushwa. “It’s not over yet! I’ll just have to keep making more! Soon, they’ll be so overwhelmed and overworked that they can’t help but fall!” Lila became worried.

However, as Nurushwa was gathering the energy to do this, he was interrupted. “HALT!” screamed Superbug. Nurushwa looked at her. She was staring at him intently. “LET LILA GO AND STOP THIS SIEGE ON PARIS! OR I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!”

Lila looked up. She could see what Nurushwa was seeing. She could believe her eyes. “Ladybug?”

[flutteringphalanges]

                                              Mirabile Visu

Summary: Sister Agatha Van Helsing discovers she’s in over her head when a competitive game of chess ultimately results in her becoming pregnant with the child of her worst enemy, Count Dracula. Now tied by a bond deeper than blood, the two must learn to coexist and adapt in a world that could be potentially hostile towards their offspring. Parenthood has never looked so batty.

Characters: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapters: 9/?

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Thank you all for the love and support! This story wouldn't be what it is without you! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! Knowing there is an audience for this story keeps me regularly updating it! Stay healthy and safe! -Jen

                                                Chapter Nine

                                               Dracula Residence

                                                  Present Time

This was different from the raid on Whitby beach, that much Dracula realized. As he stood there, trying his best to shield his wife from the onslaught, he found it very difficult as the guards formed a circle around them, pressing in so that he couldn't make a tactical move. Suddenly, from the blown in door, a woman stepped inside. She was familiar, her scent immediately assaulting his nasal passage ways. Dr. Bloxham. Ah, the thumbless scientist.

"You know," the woman sighed, looking from Dracula to Agatha. "It didn't have to come down to this. Your flat is rather lovely, it was a shame really."

"If this is about your finger," the count commented. "The nine others aren't completely useless."

"Dracula," his wife hissed quietly. "Don't antagonize…"

"She's right," the woman answered, cutting Agatha off. "I'd be mindful if I were you. I'm sure you've noticed, but there has been quite an adjustment made to our weapons?" She motioned to one of the men, his black uniform masking his features. "Military grade fabric designed to withstand 3,000 PSI bite power. Extra padding around the neck to protect the throat and jugular. Pure silver buckles and," she smiled, pointing to a deep pocket. "Stake holster. But that's not the best part."

Both vampires watched as Bloxham's fingers trailed across the strange device each figure held.

"A crossbow rifle combination," the woman smirked. "Equipped with bullets fashioned similar to stakes with pure silver tips. And," her eyes sparkled maliciously. "Even managed to get them blessed. I must say, the cost was incredible, but thankfully the Foundation has money to spare."

Count Dracula snorted. "I've been shot many times, mortal bullets don't cause us any harm."

"Oh really?" Dr. Bloxham inquired, cocking her head to the side. "Care to wager on that?"

Before either could react, the scientist nodded towards one of the men who pointed the weapon towards Dracula. With a click, he aimed and fired the device, the bullet embedding itself into the count's shoulder.

"Dracula!" Agatha cried out, turning to her husband in horror.

The vampire gripped his arm in pain, trying not to give the doctor the satisfaction of a groan. When he looked to his wound, to his utter surprise, dark red liquid began to trickle down from the entry point. Blood. He was bleeding. And it wasn't immediately healing either. He felt Agatha's hand pressing tightly over his, her eyes wild with concern.

"Detain them," Dr. Bloxham said, turning on her heels. "And if they give you any trouble, shoot them." Her lips curved into a small smile. "Dr. Van Helsing...never trust someone who's emotionally tasked with such a job..."

                                    Zoe Van Helsing’s Residence

The sun had just disappeared below the horizon when Sorina eyes fluttered open. Yawning, she sat up in her bed, blinking back sleep. She was not surprised to see Jack sitting against the wall opposite of her, mindlessly tapping away at his phone-one of his game apps for sure. He'd stayed over after the incident with her parents, Zoe surprisingly allowing it.

"Hey," she smiled tiredly. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Hey yourself," Jack chuckled, putting his cell away. "A little," he admitted. "Zoe gave me a pillow and a throw blanket. At least it was something. Can't exactly complain there."

Sorina sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. "Last night was…"

"Unexpected?" The young man finished. "Look, I know I should've told you about your dad and his...opinion on me, but you just got reunited with your parents and I wanted you to rekindle your relationships before I blew it up."

"If anyone blew up, it was me last night," the halfling stated. "And Mum is pregnant, wasn't expecting that curve ball." She shook her head, glancing at the curtains that still hung over the window. "Where's Zoe anyway?" Not that she really cared. After last night, there had been a long period of silence between them.

"In her room, I think," Jack replied. "Last time I checked she was trying to contact the Foundation. It's strange, she said the phone lines kept sending her to the public voicemail, not to the laboratory itself despite the password. Maybe there's a mishap in the system."

"Could be," Sorina agreed. "I mean, the place is nearly as old as I am. It has its occasional blips." She exhaled, moving to stand up. "Hungry? I was thinking we could order a pizza?"

"Extra pepperoni and bacon?" He smirked, meeting her gaze. "I'll call it in."

"You know me best," Sorina grinned. Pork had, of course, always been a food she gravitated towards. "I'm going to go have a word with Zoe. Hopefully it won't take too long."

Still dressed in her clothes from yesterday, she headed in the direction of her aunt's room. As she drew nearer, Sorina could just make out Zoe cursing softly under her breath. Peering through the slightly ajar door, she watched as the doctor repeatedly typed a series of numbers onto her phone before holding it up to her ear. Seconds passed. Nothing. And the scientist brought the device down to her desk with a sigh.

"Zoe?"

The woman jumped, slightly startled by the sound of her name. Hesitantly, Sorina slipped inside, closing the space between them. Zoe looked tired. More exhausted than usual. Sorina noted a small cut on her bottom lip where the woman must've been chewing on it nervously.

"Sorina," her voice was flat. "You're up." She turned in her chair, now facing the girl head on. "Are we going to have a proper discussion about last night?"

"About how you not only neglected to tell me that my Mum was pregnant, but also the Foundation wanted to 'study' her like some exotic animal?" Sorina nodded towards the phone. "Why are you trying to reach them anyway? To attempt to call things off like some hero?"

"This is a lot deeper than you realize," Zoe sighed heavily. "But yes, I'm trying to handle the situation in favor of your parents. However," she ground her teeth together as she spoke. "No one is taking my calls. Not Bloxham. Not the research facility. No one." Shaking her head, she moved a strand of hair out of her pale face. "I'm sorry, Sorina, what I did was not done with the intention of hurting you."

"If you'd really cared, you'd leave the Foundation for good after this," the young woman exclaimed. "Once my Mum's safety is secured." She paused, noting the gaunt expression on Zoe's face. Anger momentarily melted into concern. "You should've left a long time ago. Have you taken your pills today?"

"They only dull my senses," Zoe stated wearily. "And right now, having a clear mind is needed to figure things out." She glanced at her laptop and her frown deepened. "It's almost like my key card has been cancelled…" It was then her eyes lit up. "Ask Jack to come downstairs, I want to try something."

Sorina studied her aunt curiously for a second, before doing as she requested. Once Jack had joined the two women in the room, Dr. Van Helsing sat up straighter in her seat, expression one of determined nature.

"Call the Foundation," she informed the young man.

"I thought the lines were down?" Jack posed, dialing the number on his own phone. "What makes you think," he continued, now holding it to his ear. "That they'd answer to-"

"Jonathan Harker Foundation," a voice responded on the other line. "Please enter the twelve digit code on the back of your key card to proceed."

The room grew quiet and, though she wasn't sure at the time why, Sorina's blood grew. Jack, looking rather unsure, only continued when Zoe nodded eagerly at him. He typed in his identification number and was immediately redirected.

"Hello," a man answered. "Who am I speaking to?"

"This is Jack Seward," he said with hesitation. "I was wondering if I could reach Dr. Van Helsing?"

"I'm sorry," the person responded. "But the person by that name no longer works for the facility. Have a good day."

With that, the other line hung up. Jack lowered the phone from his ear slowly, his eyes locked on Zoe's. It had been loud enough for all three to hear it. The halfling felt a lump growing in her throat, even her aunt's expression had paled. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

"We have to go back to your parents' flat," Zoe said, breaking the silence. "I've made a horrible mistake."

                                 The Jonathan Harker Foundation

The prison situated in the center of the Foundation's research room seemed even smaller than Dracula remembered. The vampire found himself pacing, his shoulder still aching from his injury. It had begun to heal, his body pushing the bullet out within a few hours, but the sting was still there.

Agatha watched nearby, her eyes scanning the room as if trying to figure out some solution that would lead to their escape. At every given corner, a guard stood poised and ready to take action if provoked. One hand rested on her still smooth abdomen, a feeling of helplessness hanging over her. A mother was sworn to protect their child and being trapped here was going against that instinct.

"Bloody Mina Murray," Dracula growled, turning on his heels. "Should've killed her when I had the chance. Why didn't you let me?!"

"We're really going to argue about this now?" Agatha frowned. "About me saving the life of an innocent woman during a massacre you caused?"

"Well look where it brought up!" The other vampire gestured around. "She had to go and created this ridiculous little institution of hers."

"Well if I hadn't," the woman countered. "You wouldn't have me, Sorina, or…" her voice trailed off as her eyes flickered down to her stomach. The count seemed to sense her worry and moved to her side.

"I won't let any happen," he promised, placing his hand over hers. "To either of you."

"It's funny," she smiled weakly. "You said to me once all those years ago that I can't save everyone and yet here you are, proclaiming the same thing."

"Perhaps you unfortunately rubbed off on me," he smirked. "You do have a way of doing that."

"Must be the inner nun in me," she chuckled, leaning into him. "To think a game of simple chess led us this far."

"Remind me to burn the game when we escape," he replied.

"Not after I challenge you to another round," she countered, the mood beginning to lighten. "I…"

The former nun's words were cut short as the heavy metal sliding doors opened and Dr. Bloxham strode in. She seemed to study the two vampires, expression void of any emotion as she approached, two men at either side. In her hands, she clutched a clipboard, her focus shifting to whatever paperwork was attached to it.

"It's rather unfortunate that I never got a proper examination of your daughter," the woman commented. "Based on the relationship between the Van Helsings and the Murrays, it was declared that she was off limits. A pity, I would have loved to learn what made her tick." A low growl escaped from deep within Dracula's chest and the doctor smirked. "Did I hit a pressure point?"

"For a place that relies so much on Christian faith, you sure lack the understanding of it," Agatha answered bitterly. "Forgiveness, Kindness, Humility…"

"I don't take preaching from a fallen nun," the woman countered. "As for my beliefs on God, they pertain solely on the idea of how to destroy a monster such as yourselves." She paused, amused by Agatha's threatening glare. "I will say, I am quite curious though as to what's inside you. I may have missed out on your daughter, but your second child and its development. I think I'd like to have a better look at that."

Dracula nudged Agatha behind him as the armed men began to circle around in close proximity to the prison's frame.

"Restrain him," Bloxham said simply. "I'm only interested in her."

                                          Dracula Residence

Sorina was the first to leap out of the car and bound towards her parents' home. She could hear Jack calling out, his footfall far behind hers. There was something off. She could sense it. And as she rounded the corner, her heart immediately sank at the sight.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no!"

The damage was done. The door blown right opened, wood splinters. She could smell it. The scent of blood. And it was not human. Zoe and Jack stood behind her, both humans panting as they too took in the sight.

"Sorina," Zoe said breathlessly, reaching out for her niece. "I…"

"You!" She snapped, turning to face the scientist. "This is your fault!"

"I didn't know this would happen," she replied, pain laced in her tone. "I didn't…"

"I don't care," Sorina muttered. "About you or about the Foundation. I'm going to get my parents back alone or otherwise."

Her eyes had grown dark, and for the first time since he'd known her, Jack felt afraid of her.

"They just fucked with the wrong family..."