#who said we have to stop making what will be the future's most cursed artifacts in the present

[myrulia]

An Oiran's Sacrifice - Kokushibou x Oiran!Reader

Oiran

Oiran (花魁) was a specific category of high ranking courtesan in Japanese history. Divided into a number of ranks within this category, oiran were considered – both in social terms and in the entertainment they provided – to be above common prostitutes, known as yūjo (遊女, lit. 'woman of pleasure')

Warnings: Strong language, prostitution

Word count: 3758

Next chapter

`` Why must you do this to yourself? ``

`` For my family. ``

`` Family means nothing if you are working as a self degrading prostitute. ``

`` It is what I must do if I wish to live. ``

               ◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

It was yet another late evening, alone in your compact minka, yet it never was a bother, for this was how you usually spent your nights. Due to your poor living style, your father was driven to thievery. It was the only way to keep the two of you somewhat fed, clothes on your back, and a roof over your heads. Your living style has helped you become more grateful of any small blessing that came along your way. Even the smallest fortune would put a smile on your face because it ended the little sorrow in your heart at the realization of your poverty.

``[Y/N],`` You heard a voice beckon to you. The voice you knew all too well at this time of night that originated from the only person who would even dare leave do commit such crimes. `` Coming father. ``

Getting up slowly from your dimly candle lit chabudai, you scurried your way to the wooden door of your minka, letting inside the only other family member you had, your father. Watching how he takes slow strides inside the bleak, wooden-paneled small space of your home, you mentally cursed yourself for ever allowing yourself to come to terms with your reality. Deep down you hated how the man in front of you risked his life nearly every night just to make sure the two of you were fed, yet, it is not like you could do much to change your misfortune, for it is your depressing reality.

`` Miracles do happen [Y/N]. I promise you, with this, we can finally turn our life around, and leave this dreadful place. `` Being intrigued by your father's words, you eyed the gleaming object in his hands that you unfortunately recognized. `` Father, why? From the Suzuki family no less? They will have our heads if we are to be caught..! ``

Your worry was bothersome to your father. He knew just as much as you what the consequences are if he was ever to be caught. It wasn't easy for the male to successfully loot the expensive statue in hand, so you didn't doubt he'd do his best to hide any evidence of his caper. You couldn't help but worry of your future, because the Suzuki family was the most wealthiest family in your little mountain-side village. Known for being ruthless to anyone that disrupts their peace and fortune, the Suzukis will not tolerate such thievery inflicted upon them, which is why your worry only increased even more because you did love your father of course, and to see his head served on a silver platter was gut wrenching.

`` [Y/N], rest assured that we will not be caught. We will use this to escape this little village and live somewhere safer, maybe in the forest like your mother always wanted. We can live a peaceful life without relying on thievery. Please, my beautiful blessing of a daughter, place your trust into me. `` You merely sighed at your father's declaration. You knew he'd pull the mother card on you just to persuade your emotions even more to agree with his actions. Obviously you do not, because at the end of the day stealing is bad and punishable by death, so the constant worry always lingered in your heart.

`` I do not care if we are the lesser fortunate of our village, I just want to you to stop stealing. I already have a job- ``

`` That barely pays you enough. This is why I do what I must to keep us alive. I am ending this conversation here, I do not want to hear another word from you [Y/N]. Now, please get your much needed rest, you are developing eye bags. `` With those somewhat encouraging words to actually get some rest, you trudge your way to your comfortable futon, which wasn't too much of a distance because everything was set in the same confinded room of your one room house.

Your father blew out the warm colored candle before getting comfortable in the similar futon next to you, letting out a small groan as his muscles seemed to relax. Letting a small sigh escape your lips, you turned over so that you were laying on your side. Whilst closing your eyes, you finally allowed yourself to escape into a somewhat peaceful slumber, since you strongly believed you were in the clear from being beheaded in public since your father managed to get away unscathed.

Just as quickly as you fell asleep, you found yourself waking up to the bright light of the sunrise that glistened through the only window of your home. Yawning, you covered your mouth while slipping out of the warm fabrics of your futon, peeling open your eyes slowly. From how quickly you woke up, you felt as though it was going to be a rather long day. Truth be told you wish you had the urge to sleep longer, for you did not wish to face the day with a guilty conscience lingering over your head as a constant reminder of what your father does in the wake of the night.

`` Father, we have lots to do today, please wake up. `` Expecting to hear a soft groan in return, you turn your head to the now empty futon before you. Shock was all that was found on your face, because your usual routine was to wake up your father and start the day by finding any food to buy from the market place, but that is not the case today. Your father was gone.

`` Father? FATHER?! ``

Worry took over your emotions just as fast as your shock did. The man who was usually still in bed was no longer there so obviously you'd do your best to look all over for him. Getting out of your futon just as speedily as you woke up, you slipped on your geta shoes and bolted out of your living space and onto the busy street of your village. It was all too sickening when you tried to make sense of the situation, but only one solution came to mind. That solution only seemed to make more sense as you ran through the people-covered streets, pulling up your kimono just a bit so it'd be easier to run around until a loud boisterous voice was heard from the townsquare that confirmed every suspicion you had.

`` This pitiful man chose to steal from me! How sad that his life must end like this. It is only fair that death is his punishment for taking a precious family artifact right? `` The cheers of those in the audience caused a ringing in your ears. That was your father they were wishing death upon, and yet nobody seemed to care. As long as their own heads were on their shoulders, they were fine.

Pushing past the multiple men and women in front of you, you managed to escape from the crowd, yet to your disapproval, you were now directly in front of the cause of all the commotion, Suzuki Kenta. Your act of boldness triggered all eyes to be on you, but you could care less. You did not want to lose yet another family member in the arms of selfish people. So, bowing down quickly, you mustered up the confidence to beckon out to the head of the Suzuki family. `` Suzuki-san, as this pitiful mans daughter, I beseech of you to please, spare his life. He knew it was wrong yet it was only to save us both from the misfortune inflicted upon us!! Please, I beg of you..! ``

In your desperate plea, your eyes became bloodshot since tears were welling up on your bottom eyelid. Now looking up from your bowing stance, Suzuki Kenta had prominent veins on his face that showed his distasteful attitude towards your cry of desperation. It was obvious the angered male did not want an interruption, especially from a poor female no less, so obvious agitation was expected.

`` This woman.. really believes she can save this scum of a man... how cute. `` Kenta took slow strides to your smaller, still beneath him, form. You could practically feel him looming over you in utter disgust for ever believing you could persuade such a powerful man himself. Deep down you had a feeling that both your heads would be severed off, or hanged and humiliated publicly for your foolish actions. Who would believe this is how you unfortunately came to your end. Desperately trying to save your thieving father, knowing what he did was wrong? Bitter. The Bitter truth always hurts.

`` Look at me. ``

And as just as quick as he said his order, you gave in and risen your head from the ground, your cheeks being stained by hot tears rolling down your face, looking even more pathetic than what you had wished. Although if it was going to save your father's life, then so be it. If you were going to look like the dirt that everybody walked on, then that is what you will do. Sacrifices like these were common you, especially saving your own fathers life multiple times before this so this was nothing new.

`` You are just as pitiful as your father. You wish to save this low life man who had the audacity to steal from me? `` Kenta snarled in distaste. You had no choice but to stay silent, for there was a blade in the male's hand that he could use any second to take your life, and if you wanted to live, you needed to be careful and word your sentences just as carefully. `` I apologize on his behalf, I wish to make it up to you Sakimi-san. ``

`` Clever girl.. I have taken rather a liking to you. You are smart and you know your place, I will respect that. `` Letting out a relieved sigh, you eye the weapon in his hand before averting your gaze back to his twisted and still somewhat agrivated face. Kenta looked as if he was contemplating something in his head, all the while his bodyguards made your bloodied father watch everything unfold before him without a say in anything.

`` You do have quite the beautiful face, and a body that compliments you oh so well. I will give you two options Miss Fujisaki, you either return the stolen item and watch your father die here and now, or, you become an oiran for my lovely son. Pick wisely, and immediately. I expect an answer now. ``

Murmers were heard from the crowd who also stayed to watch the commotion unravel before them. Of course everyone knew all too well what the life of a low ranking oiran is, and knowing that the options given were supposed to be a punishment, you were going to be no more than a yujo, working as a sex slave for Sakimi's sex hungry son. But, if it meant saving your father's life, then so be it. `` I will accept the life as an oiran.. Sakimi-san.. ``

`` Perfect! I didn't want to get this perfectly good suit dirty so gentlemen, let the scum go. `` Just as quickly as Kenta snapped his fingers, the bodyguards let your father go. Seeing his bloodied and beaten to a pulp body ignited a fire in your heart as he tried his best to make his way over to you. `` Father please save your energy, we'll get you some help.. `` you addressed as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

`` Oh do not worry! My men will get him the help he needs in due time, for now please allow yourself to be escorted to my estate for further details of your new living space. ``

`` I thought I was an oiran, do I not have the decision of going back home. ``

`` My lotus, please do not talk ba- ``

`` You will be nothing more than a yujo. Your face is sweet but your tongue is bitter, and so as a punishment you will be completely submissive for my son. ``

Your eyes practically doubled in size. The fact that Kenta believes you are so willing to not at least have a shred of your dignity left is beyond anything you ever thought of. After being publicly humiliated, you'd at least expect for him to understand how you felt, but at the end of the day, selfish rich people know no boundaries. Sighing once more with your father in your arms, you slowly stand on both your dusty legs, all the while helping your father keep his balance. ''Fine then..'' was all you said.

You found yourself now following the Sakimi bodyguards, for they were escorting you to the one and only Sakimi estate. It was rather large and sat on an even larger hill, so the trail up the grand staircase was a bit of a hike for the beaten man that you loved so dearly. During the entire walk it truly allowed you to comprehend your reality for the rest of your life. You were going to be a oiran, the lowest ranking form of oiran no less. It had your blood boiling with how easily you are so willing to save your father from death time and time again.

Since the small little hike would end soon, you took the chance to take in your surroundings. It wasn't like your previous way of living in the village, but a more extravagant way of living. There were statues with small-scale ponds in front of them that had different colored koi fish inside. The afternoon brightness of the sun reflected upon the water, but that was not the only thing because you could catch a glimpse of your dirtier form from your bow of respect from earlier. Looking back you realize the man who you will be working for deserved now ounce of respect, for your body was yours, even if you were to be a yujo you'd still keep your dignity.

Other than that, in your barely noticeable reflection, even under all the small specs of dirt and filth, your face resembled your mother. You pretty much looked like a copy and paste version of the woman so it was no surprise that you had her beautiful features. Above all that it still saddened you that from above, she'd be watching her daughter become a self degrading prostitute if it meant saving her dear father from execution. A reality, that was so tart to even look at in the eyes of others.

`` Ahem.. Fujisaki, ``you heard a feminine voice call out to you. It was shocking so your head whipped to the side to whoever called out to you. To your misfortune, it was the head oiran of the Sakimi estate. Lowering your head out of respect, you partially gripped your father's shirt out of nervousness because it would be the start of a new chapter in your life that you never wanted to reach. `` Now that I have your attention, let me look at you. ``

Before you knew it your father was ripped from your arms by the same bodyguards who held him at knife point. Your face of worry was noticed by those around you, so to direct your attention the head oiran, who you had yet to introduce herself to you, held your face in her amazingly soft hands. `` Ignore them, they're going to patch him up and send him home. You, my beautiful underling, will be coming with me and my ladies. ``

Her boldness wasn't shocking, so following her didn't make you as uncomfortable as you perceived it would be. The beautiful woman who held your wrist as you finally entered the large minka, had started speaking so quickly that your mind took a bit to process. `` I am the head oiran known as the tayu and you are my precious little yujo. I'm Sakura, over there is Jade, that's Blossom, and there is Waterlily. You will address us by our oiran names only and the same goes for you. You will no longer be "Fujisaki," but rather a lovely name, Lotus. ``

The irony in that moment made you want to cringe. You only permitted your father to call you such a thing, but now that it is what others shall be addressing you, it caused an obvious look of discomfort to be plastered on your face. Just as suddenly as Sakura stopped talking, she just as suddenly dragged you to another, more secluded, area of the minka. Inside the room she pulled you in looked like an oversized closet, easily bigger than your one room home.

`` In here is where you shall prepare yourself to look proper, right now you look like actual filth, so please, make yourself look presentable for Master. ``

Before you could utter out a single word, Sakura left you, alone in a pretty large room without any guidance. During the time your mother was with you, the both of you would pass men with many different beautiful women surrounding him. Despite being too young to fully understand their jobs, your mother simply said, `` They are called oirans my dear, beautiful women for service. ``

With that in mind, you remembered how the others look and tried your best to copy their image. Grabbing a nearby hakuhodo, you dipped the end into the white power and began gently stroking your face, turning your fair skin milky white. It was a longer process than anticipated so once you were done you had to message your muscles because making sure the powerdy substance stayed on your face took the longest. You felt embarrassed to call for help, so you being you decided to do everything yourself. Grabbing what you perceived to be an eyeliner pencil, you tried to keep your hand steady as you basically used yourself as a canvas of art.

Unfortunately it was another long process because a few strokes were a bit wobbly, but finally perfecting the look made you feel a sense of pride that you could do such things yourself. Grabbing one more brush, you dabbed the end into a red power and brushed lightly where the end of your eye starts and stopped just about before your hair line. Moving onto the multiple shades of lipsticks, you grabbed a bright red and began applying the shade onto your lips. `` I look ridiculous, don't I mother? ``

Your tilted your head up to imagine her soft laughter at how content you are with your actions. You still felt pride in the fact that you were able to successfully look like a professional oiran without help from the tayu. Smiling gently to yourself, you got up from the plush chair to look for your new kimono that'd you'd be working in starting from that point on. When you came to no prevail, you sighed once more while scampering your way to the wooden sliding door. `` Sakura-san? ``

`` Yes my underling? `` Was all the beautiful woman said from a little ways away. Telling by the gentleness of her voice, she wasn't too busy at the moment so you scurried over to her as quickly as you could.

`` If you are not busy at the moment Sakura-san.. may you help me with my kimono?``

`` Of course not my little lotus, come with me. ``

Following behind her yet again, she leads the both of you into the dressing rooms where you originated from. Her movements were fluid and as gracefully as she could, pulled out each layer of kimono you'd be wearing for the one they called "master." Placing each layer onto a nearby chair, she faces you with a softer expression while holding your face in her hands once more, like earlier. `` For a fresh underling, your make-up is more professional than most. I must admit that I am proud of you my Lotus, so please hurry and get dressed so I can give you a proper tour of the Sakimi estate. ``

And with that, Sakura left, leaving you to your disposal of getting dressed. Unfortunately she hadn't told you the order of each layer, so it was more like a ball game to see if you actually got it correct. From your eyes, it seemed like everything was a test to see just how much you knew about an oirans job. In contrast, you were a clever one, so it wasn't too tough to memorize the oirans you passed as a child, remembering each layer and how they dress accordingly.

Yet again, another long process which you figured out all on your own.

Looking in the mirror, you no longer recognized your mothers features on your own face. In your eyes, you saw another person entirely, that was no longer you. To everyone else you'd be known as Lotus, not [Y/N] Fujisaki. It was the future you brought upon yourself, so keeping your chin raised high, you took slow strides out of the dressing room and looked for Sakura who was supposed to give you a proper tour, but to no avail, you did not see the woman from earlier.

And so, you took it upon yourself to look around until you found yourself on the engawa that wrapped around the entire minka. The evening breeze hitting your face as you looked down at the small forest beside, taking in the sunset cascading down upon you. You hadn't expected for the entire day to simply rush by. It felt like just yesterday you were waiting for your father to return from his capers almost every night, but no longer shall he steal, owing to the fact that you'd make money as a yujo.

This was your life, and you had no say in how it was to go for the rest of your days.

◇◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆◇

`` Ohhh..~ She is a pretty one Kokushibou-dono~ I want her as my next meal. ``

Kokushibou, who wasn't listening to the Upper Moon Two, eyed a woman who had changed entirely since the last time he had seen her. His confusion didn't go unnoticed due to the Upper Moon One usually having a stoic expression. `` You seem to have taken a liking to her? How pitiful she is nothing but a prostitute n- ``

Before the demon could finish his sentence, one swift movement of Kokushibou's blade had his head off in seconds.

`` Silence, Douma. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

[cinearia]

The "Morally Grey" in ACOTAR

I decided to write something I have been thinking about since I saw some people saying this when pointing out the wrong attitude of some characters in ACOTAR (aka Rhysand and company), but I think this can apply in general. In another specific story, but I will focus on ACOTAR.

And please, if you disagree, that's fine. This is an opinion of mine that I decided to write and post, because I find it an interesting subject that does not necessarily apply only in ACOTAR, but that is in the saga and I have seen people commenting on it. I don't want to fight with anyone, okay? I put in the tags that fit in.

So...

I love morally gray characters, but just to make it clear right now, I don't think that EVERY story has to have ambiguous characters. It's okay if the story is to follow a line more heroes versus villains line. But one of the things I saw here on tumblr and twitter about the attitudes of IC, Rhysand and Feyre was using that same argument, that they are not perfect, that they have their flaws. I definitely agree with that.

But history itself does not recognize this (and some fans too). Because nobody seems to call their shit out.

Starting from a general view that can include all of the IC. Like, how not to worry about your image while protecting your city? Okay, i get it, we had to be the tHe BaD gUyS, but y'all will suffering the consequences for this, especially if its to protect your own city. Some other people are protecting their citys too. Doesn't mean that you are wrong, but everything has consequences.

Or, how they constantly abuse their power; how Rhysand threatening and using his powers even at a political meeting sound good? How Feyre ended up hurting someone during that same meeting, even if unintentionally, was just fine? No one will call their shit about using their powers? Do you really seek to make allies and friends in the middle of a war by showing abuse of power and threatening others (and not just feysand doing this)? Or saying that they should step over the others so that there is only one king and queen in Prythian (that was right for you, Amren).

And that is partly the fault of writing. Now, more specific:

They lie and steals a valuable artifact from a possible ally and political leader of an entire court? Ah, but it is for a greater good. It will not jeopardize the confidence of a HIGH LORD OF A COURT who was supposed to be his ally in the midst of a war.

Did Feyre decimate an court? Ah, but the leader was abusive to her, she felt trapped in the place that was rebuilding because of a curse of hundreds of years, even though there are innocent people. And, of course, you will have the consequences for this.

(this one more personal and less political) Elain, perhaps the least worst of all, neglected Feyre as much as Nesta did, and also do nothing when she went hunting? Ah, but Elain is Elain.

Did Rhysand hide information from Feyre's pregnancy that she and the baby could die in childbirth? Ah, but he didn't want to worry her, he was scared to lose her and her son. And the whole IC agreed not to tell her anything? Ah, they also care about her, the High Lady.

(And this is the worst and yes, I’ve seen someone say that) Rhysand did it all with Feyre UTM, drugged her, put her in a dress that didn’t cover anything, made her dance all night on his lap? But because he wanted to protect her, we need to hear both sides of the story.

And that's fine because they are the good guys in the story. But it is nothing more than pure hypocrisy, and no consequence falls on them. If it happens, it will be unfair, is just to move the plot.

Do you want us to believe in the heroes of history, do you want us to side with them? Great, we can do that. We could have liked Feyre and Rhysand and the whole IC more, as a group that doesn't always do the right things, except that would have to change literally EVERYTHING (a little bit of charisma would be good).

Instead, for me, it became an egocentric boring FoUnD FaMiLy group that only cares about their own city - and it's not necessarily wrong to be concerned only with Velaris, it's part of their history. But forcing an image on them that doesn't match their actions makes me believe the opposite, especially cause started in ACOSF, again from AMREN, about a King and Queen in Prythian.

So, I came to believe that it was a POV issue. For IC, they are the heroes of history, and think they are better than the rest.

It would be curious, in fact, if the whole point was that Feyre's POV would incapacitate us from seeing the flaws that she doesn't see. And totally proposital. That is why we have to see her as a saint, but at the same time so badass. Wow, no one, i repeat, NO ONE, suspect of me while i pretend to be innocent.

Or how we see her mate so perfect, to the point that history doesn't allow us to stop and think 'wait, this is kind of ...weird'. Or that, as much as there is an error there, but not leat the reader question the characters themselves. Rhysand, for Feyre, is perfect.

We have to see Rhysand as that altruistic, laid-back person who does everything for others, mostly because he did it for Feyre, and that can't be denied. He saved her, took her to her city, her family. What made me stop to think is how Feyre may be reproducing their behavior. How he seems to want her to be part of it so badly. I don't know how to put it into words, but that's more or less what I wrote in another rant I did.

Everything she does is justified by the other characters. At the same time that she, Rhysand and everyone in the IC have hypocritical and very wrong attitudes that history itself does not recognize. And, worst of that, the story seems glorify her POV.

Seriously, when she disobeys the instructions given to her (what she does the most) she has no one to say 'girl, please stop. Just STOP)

And with this said, i add:

We don't have to agree with everything that the characters and the protagonist do. We can love them and still disagree with them, because they are people, or fae, like any other, and there will always be something in them that we will disagree with. It makes them real. They can be heroes and still have their dark side.

The reasons may be as noble as possible, but that will not exclude the consequences, it will not exclude them from being wrong. They do not necessarily need to take a spur or a lesson in morals, but just do not miss out on what every action can bring, especially political leaders in the midst of a war.

Whenever the IC does something, it is for a "bigger" reason, but without giving us the chance to even question it. We don't see them paying for their words, without necessarily moving the plot of the story, in a story that focuses so much on the development of the characters themselves and putting the war in the background (or how should been). Without us being able to question the motivations of the good guys and always doubt the villains.

And this is where I’m going to focus on a more specific point; funny like any character who is "MoRaLlY GrAy" and who "have YOUR rEaSoNs" are men or with history of abuser. Thats funny, right? The new one now is Eris, who was part of Mor's trauma and one of Lucien's nasty brothers, that one who already attacked Lucien, the one who was going to kill Feyre. Who did all that to Mor.

But having Eris saying that she, the victim, didn't tell the whole truth, and the history is now showing that we will see his side...

It just makes me ask, how, in ALL the process of creating and writing these books, passing for her editors, in the books that she wants to pass the message of feminism so much, SJM didn't stop to think, or didn't have a friend to put their hand on your conscience, how wrong does it sound for the abuser to say that the victim is lying?

Why are the men in this saga constantly gaining the gift of doubt?

I can no longer see Rhysand as being morally gray precisely because of what SJM wants us to believe as he is and justifies his actions. What could have been in ACOTAR stopped being completely from ACOMAF, probably because SJM wanted that in her story, the girl would stay with the """villain"""

For from then on, every action of Rhysand is justified and without future consequences, since we are supposed to root for him. Now he is the protagonist's new love interest. So we don't blame him for what he does. So, everything is fine. He's not the bad guy.

And meanwhile, Tamlin comes down to being the bad, abusive guy and... That's it. And no, I don't think he's a good person, he doesn't have to have an arc of redemption, what he did with Feyre is still wrong. The difference now is that Tamlin is just that, those are his only attributes now, while Rhysand has attitudes as bad as, perhaps more, than he had. One is being extremely vilanized while the other is the hero of history, when they are only two sides of the same coin.

I can share this hatred as ALL characters feel for Tamlin, if I didn't see how everyone else did such bad things. Let's remember too, one has the job of torturing people, another has decimated an entire village. They really do what they want and... It's okay.

Doesn't work say that the story has a morally grey area with the characters if the consequences balance it does not lean towards the protagonists.

It costs me less to believe that they are what they are every time SJM reinforces in Feyre's POV how selfless Rhysand is and how much Feyre talks about how badass she is and the two of them such a powerful couple. Literally, I start to think the opposite.

(I did a second part of this rant, but I think it can get a little more personal cause focus in Nesta and Feyre that I decided to split it in two)

[nyan-koii]

Hashira ft. Sabito as genshin impact players

aunotes : Bad grammar ahead! I didnt proofread it so be aware of brain damage. plus i initially wrote it at the 1.6 update

PART 1 : T.Muichiro, R.Kyojuro, K.Shinobu, S.Sanemi, U.Tengen 

Muichiro : he probably would be uninterested at first. He's more to first person shooting game or anything other than this concept of farming or investing. So that's why when he saw yuichirou banging his fist on his desk, trying to get his fav character, he would simply just watch

"Fck this game, i've had enough,"

"But you havent finish your wishing things yet,"

Stares. "How about you give it a try mui. You might get the character i want,"

"You sure about that? You might get angry at me," "better than nothing. Now go go, get em you donkey,"

His first ten pulls on the game brings out a light we all want to see

"Eh is tha-" "AAAA A FUCKING 5 STAR FCK FCKFCK,"

Apparently, it was one of the luckiest wish yuichiro had ever seen so far

"OHMYFUCK, you GOT A GODDAMN KLEE, QIQI AND SUCROSE WTFF???"

"I think i get your fav character?"

"Yeahh!! More than that to be honest. I want klee but you brought me two more person," sniffles and cries "you're really lucky mui. You should try and play the game,"

"It's probably the system. I doubt im that lucky tho,"

Nah, he really is lucky. Apparently he wished for his friends and got what they all really wanted for so long

"Thank you for getting me the aquila favonia, muichiro,"

"It's nothing really. I just simply press the button. It might be the system that's giving you the thing you want when i wish,"

"But still, even if i were to wish, i can get really scared and paranoid over it,"

"That's bad. You shouldnt invest yourself that much in the game tanjiro. It's just a game,"

"Ehehehe, i guess so. But you're really good at it muichiro! If you download it, we can play together :D!"

!!!!

It took the word "play together" to get muichiro down on his knee for that game. Usually the idea of playing with your friends is not that interesting. So when tanjiro said that, you bet he's going to play it

Type of player

Extremely lucky it's not even real. He got a five star on the beginner's banner

Fast farming. He probably will complete all the quest and become an endgame player within one month

"I just wanted to play with tanjiro..." bashfully

He's really good with whatever he's doing. Attack combo, dodging, elemental reaction and all sorts of stuff. If he invest more of his time on artifacts, he would probably even one shot it!!

He's very lucky. Very

Kyojuro : he wouldnt even know the existence of this game. Well, he took a glimpse of it one day and boom, heart stolen. Maybe it was the fiery burning passion in bennett that made him play the game.

'oh wow!! What a determined young boy! Even though he has a very bad luck he still keep pushing forward! Amazing!!'

'I want to be like him'

Kyojuro's the type of player to read and pay attention to every single lore of his fav character. Bennett, oh my how he wish he could've had bennett in his team. Every wishes he made would make him a c6 bennett main if only barbara wont stop coming home

"I really like you barbara but i dont want you!! Thank you for the c6 though!! I promise to use you in the future but just-" he prepares to wish

"not NOW!!" Clicks

The highest con of bennett he had ever gotten is probably c1. One day the paimon's bargain shop offered bennett as their monthly character. Kyojuro had never been so excited over a game before. He usually perks up over academics and not this kind of thing. But it's bennett, the character he admires the most.

Unfortunately he couldnt get it due to low currency. He had never feel so sad in his life.

"I shall not give up. Dont worry, i will be a c6 bennett main!!!"

He will be a c6 bennett haver!!

Type of player :

Carefully reads every stories and listens to their lines attentively. He finds it amazing how the company spent their everything on this game. It amazes him. From the stories, lores and lines, he truly appreciates it.

Balance his team pretty well. He mains bennett so he doesnt need that much of a healer in his team.

Enjoys bennett's hangout very much!! He tried to not get him killed by the dungeon's trap but ended up having to sacrifice him which ultimately ends the route. He had never felt so down and guilty before.

Not much of a damage dealer. He prefers to play it in normal mode and doesnt care that much about one shotting monster.

He feeds his character three meals a day!! If only there's a sleep option, he would be sending bennett to sleep first before the rest.

Everyone loves his teapot

Shinobu : found the game while she's scrolling through the app store out of boredom. Initially she played it on her phone but due to the fps and a really bad ping, so bad that douma wouldnt find her interesting anymore, she finally downloaded the game on her pc where things has starting to get real

"Ara, shinobu chan, it's lunch time already. Come downstairs please,"

"Sis give me five more minutes, JUST FIVE PLEASE I NEED TO KICK CHILDE's ASS,"

"he's not going anywhere sweetie,"

"yEAHH BUT MY BP IS,"

'Bp?'

"DIE DIE DIE!!" Aggresive clicking intensifies

"Shinobu chan dont hurt the keyboard that much!!"

She got lucky on the beginner's banner too and pulled a 5 star along with bennett and noelle. Who's the 5 star? Diluc Ragnvindr in all of his glory. Shinobu benched him sadly. She prefers sword over any other weapon

"I mean he's cool i guess but i just really dont get that 'WOAHHH COOL' vibe from him you know?"

"then give your diluc to me! I really want him so bad shinobu chan!"

Deep sighs "yeah sure. You can have my c2 diluc mitsuri..."

Loses 50/50 to diluc everytime everyone would think she either is lucky or cursed by the amount of that man greeting him on the screen. She still bench him though, sadly

"Im begging you, give me jEANN THE GRANDMASTER I NEED HEALER iN MY PARTY TO DO ABYSS

Type of player :

Suffers a lot in the abyss because she just want the primos which is a valid reason to do because that's the only thing that keeps her going

She's a sword character main. She'll properly build every character as either support or dps. The support would be kaeya and bennett, and her main dps ayaka

Ayaka main btw

Honestly at some point she wanted to quit the game because of how tiring it is but then inazuma came out

Fragile resin = 0

Resin = 160/160 happens once in a blue moon

"i should probably control myself with the amount of resin i've used,"

"But i cant,"

Hates domain but always can be seen playing in there

Only coops if mitsuri is there

"So that someone can calm me down,"

"That's not a really good reason shinobu chan,"

Sanemi : dude probably know the game through obanai. He watched the latter play and finds it interesting on how high the numbers he dealt. He loves challenges so a game like genshin impact would probably satisfy his need.

"Obanai, are you hearing this shit?"

"What is it sanemi, im busy doing this event,"

"That loser giyuu is also playing the game,"

"Oh yeah i know,"

"YOU KNOW? WHY YOU DIDNT TELL ME??"

"i just know right after you told me,"

"...."

Sanemi's a meta but a mediocre one. He's meta but he doesnt show it that much. Probably buys welkin once in every three months or when he really needs it same goes with battle pass too. Honestly, he really just use his money when he really needs something

"Donno if my allowance can buy me a welkin so i'll probably skip,"

"But the next banner is zhongli's,"

"....."

"Ah fuck it," buys

My man cant dodge after he got zhongli. Its very painful because he used to studies the enemies movement in the early game so that he can utilizes it on the team but zhongli's shield is so tank he forgot that dodging exists

"Im gonna kill you and you and you hhahaahhaah just you wait im gonna shred all of yo- oh shit zhongli's shield. puT IT BACK PUT IT BACK ON,"

That one event where zhongli's shield plays an important role in the domain? Yeah, he felt like a god at that time. Even got his c2 on his rerun. Sanemi just really like zhongli because it kinda reminds him of himejima. Calm and wise and strong too. He looks up on that kind of person

"Zhongli sama, im in debt for all of your hard work protecting my team," bows and wipes tears

Type of player :

Spends a little money on the game to get what he wants

Zhongli main

Is that one player that has hoards of food but doesnt even use it

"Why need healer when you have zhongli's shield,"

Compare to kyojuro, he doesnt even touch the teapot because he finds it ridiculous and bothersome to create and design everything in it

Loves one shotting bosses and compares it to giyuu. He ask for advices from obanai regarding team build supports and stuffs

Doesnt do character's story quest. The key is full every single time. He unlocks it but leaves the quest like that.

"Ah shit, i accidentally activate the quest,"

His friend list only has obanai in it. Whenever people sent him friend request, he wouldnt hesitate, more like wouldnt care to accept it

They either have to coop in obanai's world or his world and after that, unfriend immediately

Says thank you after coop because he has manners and then completely disappears

"Zhongli main forever,"

Tengen : played since 1.0 this madlad has been staying loyal to the game ever since. Quite huge amount of money he spend on this game to be honest but he never gets broke by it. You can see his regular donation to the game by purchasing welkin and battle pass and some genesis crystal too. He's loaded with money, he didnt know what to do with it.

Uzui also plays honkai impact and guns girl Z so when he saw the unknown god at the intro , he was not surprised.

"Oh we have to pick between the siblings? Cool cool co- oh hi kiana,"

"Thats so herrscher of void hahahahah,"

Although he is a loyal fan to MihoYo games, he lost his composure when he saw the 1st genshin anniversary reward because what was that. Imagine getting billions of money and they give us this? Tengen cant believe this shit

"Oh god wtf was that reward, i have to draw to get a welkin and some primos?? aND I ALSO HAVE TO BE LUCKY? WHAT-"

"WHERE'S MY FREE MONA,"

In need of mona. He needs mona so bad he literally spent his money on standard banner to get mona but always ends up with qiqi. Not that he's complaining but he just wants the astrologist to complete the support team

"GOD QIQI YOU AGAIN? WTF WFF WTF-" converts genesis crystal to primigems

"Tengen, you should control yourself!"

"SHUT UP KYOJURO, IM GONNA WASTE MY MONEY TILL I GET HER,"

"yeah but my f2p ass is hurting with how many bennett cons you got," droops

Tengen sees potential in every character. Everyone has their weakness and strength so when kokomi comes out, he diss her at first but then realize maybe its a new way for a character. Adds the uniqueness if he may say so.

"Meh i dont care honestly. You guys should pull whoever you find nice or beautiful. Like me ;)"

"Who do you main uzui?"

"Beidou,"

Type of player

Spoils the storylines, lores, leaks A LOT THE REST HAVE TO BLOCK HIM ON SOCIAL MEDIA

Speed runs the game and has become an endgame player ever since but he still does his daily commission and helps people with domains and stuffs

R5 every battle pass weapon

Fights azhdaha for fun and to test out his characters rather than ruin guards and stuff

Mona wanter

Puts traveller as the pfp and doesnt display any showcase of his characters and namecards. You can only see his achievements and spiral abyss ( 12-3 ). Says its for fun and mystery

Throws a lot of pickup lines and roleplays a lot. Spams your chatbox messages with stickers and censored stuffs

Probably steals your ores and exotic things like violetgrass, qingxin and silk flowers

Screams in the chatbox whenever he saw Mona until Kyojuro had to calm him down

Changes signature every single time and sometimes put spoilers in it

In every survey he would complain "MihoYo where the fuck is my Mona,"

Doesnt heals his characters

[emma-nation]

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 8

Day 8 - The temperature of your chest gets hotter when you are closer to your soulmate and colder when you move further away. (D&D AU)

Pairing(s): Romantic Roceit, Romantic Background Analogical

TWs: Swearing

–

“Oh I adore being made out to be the bad guy here.”

“You robbed the lair of the Dragon Witch! It’s literally your fault that we are mired in this bog of despair!”

Roman’s accusation rang loudly within the wagon as they made the long ride back to Amoresse to rest for the night. Janus rolled his serpentine eyes, 

“You, dear delusional knight, are totally not the one who went and killed said Dragon Witch, thus leaving her treasure for the taking.”, the half Yuan-Ti hissed, appropriately, “Besides, you can absolutely take the moral high ground here when you stole her crown at the first opportunity.”

The pristine elven knight gasped dramatically, clutching his figurative pearls at such an accusation! 

“This is an outrage-!”

“Both of you shut the fuck up or I’m driving this wagon off the nearest goddamn cliff!!”

Roman and Janus both immediately quietened down at the threat issued so casually by their wagon driver as the dhampir hissed curses under his breath. The two in the back glared at each other back and forth, avoiding looking towards the wrecked fabric of the canopy and the splintered wood. In Roman’s defense, he hadn’t known that grabbing the crown specifically would cause the Dragon Witch’s castle to fall to ruin around them. He’d realised his mistake almost immediately when he felt the dark magic radiating off of it. However, he couldn’t bring himself to admit that was the case. Especially not around Janus, the damn snake wouldn’t let him live it down. 

Being careful to pick his moment, Roman hazarded a glance over at the reptilian rapscallion eyeing up his spoils; Janus was an enigmatic entity to Roman, showing such sophistication and poise while also being prone to stumbling over his words or his own two feet in the same breath. Unabashedly, he displayed selfishness unrivalled by even the most aristocratic nobility, but in a pinch, was fully able to toss aside even the most valuable of artifacts to save a life. 

Roman had tried not to think about it. The noble and chivalrous knight, Roman of Sandaria, being saved from the jaws of death by a conman who, by all accounts, he had fully expected to leave him to die. The elven man wasn’t sure where his resentment lay; perhaps Roman thought he should’ve been able to save himself, perhaps he felt guilty for misjudging Janus but couldn’t find it in him to admit it, or perhaps it was an underlying prejudice from his training days. Yeah, he really  didn’t want to think about it.

Instead, Roman made his way to sit up front next to the moody wagon driver, making light conversation,

“I should be the one manning the wagon, your highness.”

“Roman, I’ve told you before, you can just call me by my name.”, the dhampir met Roman with piercing silver eyes, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t understand my- Virgil,”, he corrected at the last second, “Nothing’s wrong. Aside from the fact you refuse to allow me to call you by your title-”

“That’s horseshit and you know it, Roman.”, Virgil kept his eyes on the road, anxious over the possibility of a crash if he kept his gaze averted too long, “I’ve known you since we were kids, I can tell when you’re lying. Besides, being called ‘your highness’ feels wrong as it is. Coming from you? It’s even fucking weirder than this whole marrying into royalty thing...”

Roman rolled his eyes but sat closer to offer Virgil a one-armed hug. The latter gave it a moment before accepting the gesture, “Virgil, you’ll be fine. If any one of us was suited to princedom, I cannot think of a better candidate. And your future husband is unreasonably attractive, so I don’t see what you have to complain about-”

“Oh my god, shut UP!”, Virgil chuckled and shoved Roman playfully. “I mean, you’re not wrong but the last thing I need is to think too hard about Logan and crash this stupid fucking shambles of a wagon!” 

The lighthearted banter did wonders to distract Roman until Virgil managed to get things back on track unfortunately, “Now, stop deflecting and tell me what’s got you so gloomy, Sir-Sing-A-Lot.”

Roman rolled his eyes at the old nickname, “I’m fine, Virge, really. I merely wish our cascading castle adventure had been a little less…ruinous.”

“.... Was that a fucking pun-”

“Ahem.”, Janus cleared his throat from behind the two of them, “I do so loathe to interrupt.... whatever this is,”, he gestured between the two of them, “But I believe that’s our stop up ahead. Wouldn’t want to go destroying that as well.”

With that, the serpentine rogue slunk back into the wagon. Roman muttered something under his breath, inaudible to Virgil, before reluctantly joining the scaled nuisance bagging up his wares. The elven knight made sure to keep his crown tucked into his rucksack, just in case thievery was something to be wary of in Amoresse. The town’s reputation, however, gave Roman hope that their visit would prove more helpful than hindering; the rumours told of a town renowned for helping wayward, lonely souls find their soulmates. As a single, disaster gay, Roman sure hoped the rumours were true. Truly he could think of nothing sadder than turning up alone to his best friend’s wedding.

Getting booked into their rooms at the tavern was a far easier ordeal than having to endure the overly chaotic gate guard to the city. The bizarre tiefling had spent so long rambling on and on about the most grotesque topics that by the time they had successfully secured a wagon bay, the moon now shone in all her celestial beauty. Virgil had suggested resting for the night, and despite Roman’s urging that they stay together, Janus had been insistent on checking out the nightlife. The knight had been content to let him do so while he guarded the prince, but the tired dhampir insisted he too take the night to enjoy himself. Roman would have argued further had Virgil not issued the suggestion as an order after his first protest.

And that was how Roman found himself sitting at a small outdoor bar tended by a rather friendly dwarf. Said dwarf, Patton as he came to learn, was quite the chatterbox while Roman was content to take in the night air in spite of his earlier worries. 

“Say kiddo,”, the dwarf broke from his pleasant rambling, “you’re looking a little lonely there. You got something on your mind?”

Roman hadn’t expected that. He pursed his lips in thought. 

“I suppose I may as well be honest with you. I’ve been wondering if-”

“If the rumours are true?”, Patton finished, “Well, luckily for you, they are!”

He ducked down behind the counter and pulled up an ornate crystal bottle that contained a marvellous prismatic liquid inside. Roman watched with great interest as the dwarf pulled out a goblet and began to mix a sweet, fruity smelling drink before dropping in three drops of the colourful elixir.

“Anima Venenum”, Patton informed him, “Our town’s alchemist created it by accident a couple of centuries back, and ever since, we offer some to tourists who look like they need a little guidance in the ol’ world of love!”

Roman was mesmerised, “Really? You mean, I needn’t pay you for it?”

“Nope! Our only rule is to never hand it out to anyone who doesn’t ask us for it. It’s up to you if you wanna accept this, so no pressure. I just figured you looked like you might be in need of it.”

The knight had so many questions swirling around in his brain, but by the time he had settled on a single one, his hand was holding the goblet to his lips. The taste was citrusy like sweet clementines, but with a mixed berry and almost floral taste that reminded him of a rose wine. As the last of it slid down his throat, Roman noted a soft honey-like taste as he thanked Patton, 

“That tastes wonderful! I’ve never had an elixir that tasted so good.”

Patton chuckled, “Actually, the elixir itself is tasteless. People just take better to it when it's mixed with a good drink, otherwise the texture weirds ‘em out.”

“Ah, I see.”, Roman let out a gentle chuckle. He didn’t feel all that different, truth be told, and so he asked, “How will I know it’s working?”

“The effects are instantaneous, don’t you worry! It might be hard to notice at first, but when you’re near your soulmate, your heart will feel really warm- In a good way! Not like heartburn, so don’t worry about it feeling unpleasant.”, Patton assured him.

Roman nodded, making a note of it as he got up to leave before quickly asking, “Oh! How long will it last?”

Patton waved him off, assuring him, “It’ll last for as long as you need to find your soulmate, guaranteed!”

With the night reaching its peak, Roman found himself strolling along the cobbled streets back to the tavern when he felt it; a flicker of warmth in his heart. Soft as the beating of a butterfly’s wing but very much there. He followed the feeling until he came upon a narrow street, hardly lit by the lamps stationed at it’s opening. The street itself was largely empty bar a silhouette in the dark leaning against the stone bridge that arched over the shimmering water running beneath it. 

His heart raced as Roman approached the figure, the flames licking at his heart until he arrived about a foot from the entrance of the bridge. The figure turned to Roman, smirking a familiar smirk,

“Come to join me, oh loyal guardian of our beloved prince?”

Janus. His soulmate was Janus?! Roman couldn’t believe it, yet no matter how thoroughly he scanned the immediate area, not a single other soul revealed itself. The half Yuan-Ti raised a bemused eyebrow at Roman, “Please, do keep ignoring my question so you may continue to look like a fool.”

Roman scowled. Maybe the kindly dwarf was just teasing him? No, he didn’t seem the type. But this conman? His soulmate? Perhaps Roman would indulge it, see where that led him. Worth a shot anyway. 

“My apologies.”, was all Roman offered as he took a spot on the bridge next to Janus, the flames of his heart undeniably soaring to life at the close proximity. Janus gave Roman a puzzled glance which let Roman take in his features; a half scaled face and body that, the more he watched the moonlight dance along the scales, made Roman want to gently reach out and touch them. In fact, he had subconsciously been doing just that when Janus had held his wrist in place, “It’s not completely rude to just touch someone’s scales without permission. What’s gotten into that underbaked brain of yours, Roman?”

Flustered and embarrassed by his lack of tact, Roman uttered quietly, “Soulmate cocktail.”

“Pardon?”

Roman panicked, “So many cocktails. Is what I said. Like, 14 whole cocktails.” 

Great. Excellent save.

“..... You’re expecting me to believe that? Did you forget that I’m rather adept at being able to tell when someone’s lying to my face, Roman?”

End him. Just end him now. Roman wished a stray lightning bolt would smite him where he stood so he wouldn’t have to face his own stupidity. Quick, say something to help ease the situation.

“Okay. I had 16 cocktails.”, he stammered with a laugh, “I’m absolutely drunk. You got me, you clever reptile you!”

Roman of Sandaria you are a certified idiot. 

“.... Alright then. Prove it.”, Janus goaded him, locking onto Roman’s crimson eyes with his own citrine snake-like eyes. 

“Prove-?”

“Let me smell your breath.”, Janus clarified, getting closer. Each inch set Roman’s heart aflame all too literally. “If you’re as inebriated as you claim to be, your breath will absolutely stink.”

Shit.

“Uuuh, personal space-”, Roman began to move back, but Janus grasped the front of his tunic.

“Don’t give me that, Mister Personal-Space-Is-A-Societal-Construct, I’ve seen how often you get in your dear prince’s personal space...”, Roman could’ve sworn for a split second that Janus sounded resentful, or perhaps envious, before his tone took a more curious route, “... or perhaps could there be another reason you don’t want to be so close to me?”

The knight became aware of the burning within his chest threatening to rage out of control, the distance between them barely a couple of inches now. Roman wasn’t sure what to do, but the lure of Janus’ eyes and the way his ribcage radiated with a heat he’d never felt before spurred him to act; he leant forward and pressed his lips to the serpentine man before him.

It surprised Roman just how pleasant it felt, though he prepared himself for harsh retaliation from the half Yuan-Ti when he felt Janus take in a breath against his lips. However, Roman was pleasantly surprised to find that Janus, not only didn’t issue him a well-earned slap and spend the rest of the night cussing him out, but instead kissed him back even harder. Not that Roman was complaining. By the time they pulled back for air, Roman didn’t even notice the fire in his heart subsiding to be replaced with a more natural warmth as Janus’ hands softly caressed Roman’s cheeks. “I’ll be the first to admit, I totally saw the night heading that direction.”, Janus mused in surprise.

Roman let out a hearty chuckle, hardly even noticing that he’d subconsciously wrapped his arms around Janus.

“Care to tell me what brought this on, Roman of Sandaria?”

Just hearing his name spoken in such an enticing dulcet made his knees feel weak; how had Roman never noticed how beautiful Janus’ voice was? His mind was too busy latching onto every octave, every syllable, that he nearly forgot to answer him. He took Janus’ scaled hand and pressed his lips to it in a gentle gesture his soulmate clearly wasn’t used to if the flustered way he averted his eyes was anything to go by,

“I suppose you could say I did a little soul searching.”

----

Have some straight up Roceit fluff, this came out so cute.

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @lavender-mochi [I know you love your Roceit so I figured I’d tag you incase you needed this] @fandomsofrandom [I nearly missed the reblog where you asked to be added I’m so sorry]

[minruko]

Dragon’s Thief|Chapter 1

a/n: If you’ve come from the preview thanks for sticking around if your new welcome to my first series! For clarification for future scenes, the main character (or whatever you would call it) in this story is a POC. I hope you all enjoy this fic.

Summary- You are the kingdom’s most prominent thief anything your heart desires you can steal, but what happens when you happen to steal the heart of a certain Dragon Master?

Word Count- 1.3k+

Taglist: (Let me know!)

[Next]

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Chapter One: Thief! Thief!

You were slightly awoken by someone softly shaking you awake, you opened one eye to be greeted by Uraraka’s smile. “No.” you said bluntly. “W-What? But I didn’t even ask you anything yet!?” You narrowed your eyes and glared at her “You were going to ask me to wake up and the answer is no.” You rolled over in your bed and pulled the covers over your shoulders to go back to sleep. “Fine..” she walked out of your room purposely leaving the door open. “I’m going to murder her later” you thought to yourself. Five peaceful minutes passed by until Jiro burst into your room, “Hey Y/N wake up.” “Never.” You said coldly. “I wish it didn’t have to go this way.” She walked up to your bed and pushed you off. “JIRO WHAT THE-” She calmly cut you off “You know how much Yaoyorozu hates it when you show up late.” You rolled your eyes “How could I forget she made me do extra training last week.” “Yet you refuse to get up.” “Ughhh I’ll get ready”

You walked into the meeting room and pulled up a chair to the table to sit next to Hagakure. She smiled softly at you. Even though you could not see her face you knew her well enough to be able to tell. Yaoyorozu walked to the front of the room to prepare everyone for the briefing. “Here is today’s task we were hired to steal an artifact from-” “Wait a minute” You interrupted “Who the hell would want to hire a bunch of thieves?” “You know the girls got a point” Jiro added with her brows furrowed in thought. “Well I was going to get to the point *ahem* as I was saying we were hired to steal an artifact from the royal museum.” Uraraka politely raised her hand. “Yes?” “Question who hired us?” “Well our hirer requested to stay anonymous to keep their name out of our affairs .”  “Well then who’s going on this mission then?” you asked.  “Based on current skill sets and compatibility with the mission… It will be you and Hagakure.” “Just don’t come back covered in flour this time Hagakure.” Jiro teased. “HEY! It was only one time..” You wrapped your arm around her shoulders “Don’t worry Hagakure we got this!”

You and Hagakure cleared a path from your base to the museum through the forest to avoid being seen. After an hour of walking Hagakure spotted the building. “Y/N look the building!” You looked up to see the tall white building with gold accents, a smirk started to grow on your face. “You ready Hagakure?” She turned to look at you “Always.” You both started sprinting towards the back of building stopping in front of a window to peek through. “I can’t believe there’s no guards outside, this seems too easy..” she mumbled. You turned to face her “Maybe they’re all inside besides, they won’t be able to see you anyways.” “You’re right, here hold my gloves and boots I’m going in.” You grabbed her gloves and boots and hid in the nearest bush. Hagakure was easily able to avoid the guards. She made her way to the treasure room where the artifact was held ready to take it, she reached out to grab the artifact once she grabbed it, she was getting ready to make her exit until she felt an arrow whiz past her head. “Don’t. Move.” the archer demanded. “Yeah..sorry about this.” She ran toward the nearest sword rack and threw a sword towards the window, she ran at full speed towards the window and jumped out. The archer tried to run after her but Hagkure was too light on her feet.“Gather the other archers! Find the guard captain, STOP THAT THIEF!” Hagkure ran towards the bush you were hiding in “Y/N LET’S GO” “What’s going on?!” She grabbed your wrist and ran while explaining the situation.

“Shit.” you cursed to yourself, they were hot on your trail and not letting up. “Ummm Y/N.. they’re catching up!” Hagakure exclaimed “Really? I couldn’t hear them OVER THE HORSES!” You said with sarcasm lacing your tone “I mean you could literally be invisible how did you get caught!?” Hagakure pouted “It’s not my fault they were- GO LEFT!” The guards had created a blockage with their horses. “Damn it!” You both took a sharp turn to the left, you ran past a sign reading “Maxin valley” a wide grin spread across your face, this did not go unnoticed by Hagakure. “Y/N... that’s too risky!”  You knew this kingdom like the back of your hand, up ahead was a ravine. “We have the momentum to make the jump!” You said with determination “This is crazy! What if we- “you cut her off “Do you trust me?” “What? Now is not the time for- “Do. You. Trust me?” “Of course, I do.” You could hear the fear in her tone, but she was always there for you, she trusted you with her all. As you neared the cliff the guards started to catch up pushing their legs to their fullest potential. “Well it’s now or never! You ready?” You looked at Hagakure. She simply nodded, even though you can’t see her face you could tell she had determination in her eyes. “LET’S DO THIS!” “STOP THEM!” The guard captain yelled, there was a very expensive bounty over both your heads, he was ready to do whatever it takes to take you both down. “READY THE ARCHERS TAKE THEM DOWN!” By the time the archers got into position it was too late, you and Hagakure already jumped and rolled to safety on the other side of the ravine.  

“Is the artifact okay?” “Y/N.. I almost died..” “Well is it?” You taunted with a goofy grin on your face. She laughed at your grin “Anyways put this in your bag and, let’s head back.” “About that heading back part…I have good news and bad news.” She tilted her head to the side. “Tell me the bad news first.” “Well the bad news is the base is back there.” You gestured to the ravine. “The good news is if you give me a lift and help me climb that tree maybe we could find our way back or at least find a place to stay for the night.” She sighed “Dang it, this is all my fault isn’t it.” She facepalmed. “You said it I didn’t, now take your stuff back and give me a boost.” After a few moments of bickering she gave you a boost, you climbed the tree quickly but slow enough so you don’t injure yourself. Once you finally reached the top you noticed a mansion far off in the horizon. “HEY HAGAKURE THERE’S A MANSION STRAIGHT AHEAD!” “Got it! Hurry up and come down so we could head off!” You carefully made your way down branch by branch. “Alright let’s go!” After walking through miles of forest you and Hagakure finally reached the doorsteps. “Soooo…Who’s knocking...?” you asked. She turned to face you and took off her gloves “Oh no I have no hands I guess you have to knock.” She teased. “But it doesn’t even- “you sighed “Were going to be here all day unless I knock aren’t, we?” “Yep!”. You hesitatenly knocked twice on the door. The second time you knocked the door suddenly opened. You both walked in “Huh you know what this place is pretty big I don’t mind spending the night here. Even though it is pretty dark.” “Since this place is pretty spacious let’s split up to find the bedrooms. And if you happen to find some candles somewhere that would be great.” Hagakure advised. You continued to explore the downstairs area while Hagakure searched upstairs. While exploring you found some matches and candles allowing you to further explore the downstairs area, you found a kitchen, a bathroom, and a spacious lounge room. “A girl could get used to this.” You thought. While walking down the halls you bumped into someone. You looked up to meet their gaze, two crimson eyes glared right down at you.

“Oh shit.”

[Thanks for reading! Hopefully you’ll read the next one!]

[Next]

[littlepikmins]

Character Development in the Kirby Series

I wanted to share some headcanons/speculative ideas about Meta Knight, King Dedede and Bandana Dee’s character progression throughout the Kirby series.

Disclaimer: Some speculation in this post relies on Super Star and Super Star Ultra taking place at the same time in the timeline, and Ultra only adding more details about events. So chronologically this post assumes Ultra takes place between Kirby Dreamland 2 and 3 like the original Super Star. Also I haven’t played all the games referenced in this post recently so if I remember something wrong or forgot something I apologize in advance.

Kirby’s Adventure I’ll be starting with Kirby’s Adventure. In Adventure King Dedede breaks the Star Rod into multiple pieces to stop Nightmare and gives those pieces to denizens of Dream Land he deems his friends. These friends include the following characters: Whispy Woods Paint Roller Mr. Bright and Mr. Shine Kracko Heavy Mole Meta Knight This is the first game that Meta Knight appears in and already we learn King Dedede considers him a trust worthy friend. My headcanon on this is that Meta Knight works under King Dedede as his knight and Dedede is fond of him for reasons discussed below. Dedede has been stated to be a self-proclaimed king. Based on this he probably just showed up one day and declared himself king and Dream Land’s citizens went with it. I like to think his reasoning for this is because Dedede had an idea in his head about what kings are like and wanted to be one. It supports a lot of his early greedy tendencies if he had a glorified idea in his head about powerful worshiped kings based on their portrayal in storybooks.

Usually storybook kings have knights. Meta Knight’s past is really too mysterious for me to get into (and I’m okay with that, it’s part of his charm) so for now we’ll just assume one day he showed up at Dedede’s castle. Dedede, having this vision of what it meant to be a king, decides to ask this cool mysterious swordsman to be his knight. Meta Knight was probably like: “Sure, why not?” Assuming he had some reason to stick around Dream Land and staying in the Castle of Dream Land’s supposed King was convenient for him.

In Adventure even though Dedede obviously trusts Meta Knight enough to give him a piece of the Star Rod, Meta Knight assists Kirby throughout his journey to collect them all. Technically Dream Land was unable to sleep with the Star Rod broken, so Meta Knight most likely wanted to assist the person who was actually going to get rid of the problem. I think it’s safe to assume that Meta Knight doesn’t respect Dedede as much as Dedede respects him at this point in time. Dedede is a self-proclaimed King after all and Meta Knight may be skeptical of his rule, especially since while Dedede did stop Nightmare temporarily, he didn’t actually try to completely get rid of him.

Super Star Ultra

I think Meta Knight being skeptical of Dedede’s rule becomes clear in Super Star/Ultra especially. In Revenge of Meta Knight he states he wants to end Dream Land’s “lazy lifestyle.” My personal headcanon for why he does this is because he wants Dream Land to be less disorderly and believes this would be possible if Dream Land had a more capable ruler. Kirby shows up and makes quick work of Meta Knight’s plans though. Revenge of the King presumably happens around the same time and it should be noted in this instance of a fight with Dedede he copies Meta Knight’s fair fighting style by offering Kirby a hammer before their fight begins. He also dons a mask and fights with a more advanced hammer. My idea on this is that Meta Knight explicitly said to Dedede before Revenge of Meta Knight that he was unfit to rule and explained why. King Dedede was upset by this and in order to prove himself fit to be Dream Land’s King he believes he needs to defeat Kirby, which leads to the events of Revenge of the King. He also emulates Meta Knight’s act of giving Kirby a weapon at the beginning of the fight to make it even, wanting to show he is playing fair. In the end Kirby beats him.

Bandana Dee and 64 Waddle Dee

Since I’m discussing Super Star Ultra I wanna talk about Bandana Dee here. I know there’s the headcanon that Bandana Dee and 64 Waddle Dee are the same Waddle Dee. I do like this idea but Kirby’s timeline makes that confusing if the games are meant to be chronological.

Either way I do think a certain Waddle Dee stood out to King Dedede, possibly for his courage, which eventually lead him to giving him a bandana to distinguish him from the other Waddle Dees. After Bandana Dee’s fight with Kirby in Revenge of the King he then begins training to become stronger.

Post Super Star Ultra

Dreamland 3, 64, and Amazing Mirror, happen after this point. Meta Knight and Bandana Dee aren’t around in Dreamland 3 and Dedede gets possessed by Zero. In 64 King Dedede works with Kirby for the first time to collect the Crystal Shards. In Amazing Mirror, Meta Knight fails to save the Mirror World so it’s up to Kirby to find the pieces of the mirror and save him. I want to point out two things here: First, Meta Knight already knows about the Dimension Mirror which implies he could have knowledge on some artifacts presumably created by the ancients. Second, Kirby stopped Meta Knight’s ambitions in Super Star not too long ago and now Meta Knight fails to defeat the Dark version of himself and needs Kirby’s help. This makes Meta Knight begin to realize he may not be as capable as he initially thought.

Squeak Squad

This is where I get more into headcanons I have that might not have too much evidence behind them, but they’re still fun to think about.

In Squeak Squad someone steals a slice of cake from Kirby. Kirby thinks Dedede has to be the culprit and goes to his castle to fight him. After Kirby fights him the Squeaks appear and steal a chest from Dedede’s castle. Dedede throws Kirby at them and they all fall into a chasm. Later when Kirby manages to get the chest back from the Squeaks again, assuming his cake is in it, Meta Knight suddenly appears and takes it before he can open it. It is later revealed the chest contains Dark Nebula. So this raises a few questions: Why was the chest originally in Dedede’s castle? How did Meta Knight know it contained Dark Nebula? The first question could be answered by simply assuming Dedede being a king gathered treasures from across Dream Land and one happened to have Dark Nebula in it. However, this doesn’t explain how Meta Knight knew about a specific chest in Dedede’s castle housing an evil power in the first place.

What I like to think is this: Meta Knight finds this chest somewhere and learns of it’s dark power (like I said he seems to have knowledge on some ancient artifacts). Wanting to keep it safe so it’s power is not accidentally unleashed, he takes it to King Dedede’s castle and entrusts the King to protect it. This is his way of somewhat apologizing for the falling out they had in Ultra, by showing he trusts Dedede with this task. I’m not sure how long the chest remained there but eventually the Squeaks come along and take it, so Dedede informs Meta Knight about Kirby and the Squeaks falling into the chasm with the treasure. And this is why Meta Knight later appears in their location and takes the chest before Nebula is released.

Personally I like to think of Squeak Squad as a turning point for Kirby. Any way you look at it, Meta Knight and Dedede were not in the wrong in this game, but Kirby mistakenly assumed they were. Kirby’s always been very kind hearted, but recognizing that he may have made a mistake after the events of Squeak Squad could be another reason why in future games he is so willing to forgive.

Kirby’s Return to Dream Land Onward Since Bandana Dee has been absent for some time we can assume he has been training. He rejoins King Dedede as the spear wielding Bandana Dee we know and love just in time for RTDL, and Kirby, Meta Knight, Bandana Dee and King Dedede work together to help Magolor retrieve his ship pieces, but are then deceived and forced to fight him. After that Triple Deluxe happens. In terms of character development this game and Planet Robobot are very important. Based on what was discussed earlier, Dedede may still be figuring out what it really means to be a king rather than just having a glorified version of it in his head. In this game, Dedede gets to see the consequences a power hungry corrupted ruler has on her people first hand. And I believe due to seeing these consequences Dedede is even more motivated to become a true and good King for Dream Land. Similar to Triple Deluxe, Planet Robobot exposes the consequences individuals who believe they are bringing order to the planet has on Dream Land. This relates to Meta Knight’s earlier desire to end Dream Land’s lazy lifestyle. While I don’t think Meta Knight meant order in the way Susie and Haltmann regard it, it still shows how a group of people that view themselves as more civilized and advanced can harm the denizens of Popstar. Bandana Dee also appears in these games to assist Kirby. It is important to note that other than King Dedede and Meta Knight, he is one of the only other characters brave enough to actively work against the tyranny of these disruptive forces. Rainbow Curse also displays his courage as he teams up with Kirby to help restore color to Dream Land while Meta Knight and Dedede are unable, having been turned into statues. I believe thanks to these adventures, Bandana Dee further understands Kirby’s motives and sees him as a true hero. That is why he is willing to help Kirby best any foe, because he knows Kirby’s intentions are pure and that he only wishes to keep the peace and protect the denizens of Dream Land from corruption.

Kirby Fighters 2 Skipping to Kirby Fighters 2, King Dedede and Meta Knight working together makes a lot of sense. They both have a strong drive to prove themselves, similar to Bandana Dee. However, they also want to prove they can best Kirby (especially after both of their loses to the pink hero in the past). Kirby Fighters 2 from my perspective shows that Meta Knight now respects Dedede as the ruler of Dream Land. He has fought alongside Dedede in RTDL and Star Allies, and has seen that Dedede is no longer as selfish and greedy as he used to be and truly wants to be a fit ruler for his kingdom. They’ve also both been victim to a lot, in particular in Robobot they are both captured and used by Haltmann and Susie (Dedede is cloned, and Meta Knight is turned into Mecha Knight), and in Star Allies they are both corrupted by a Dark Jamba heart. By now it’s really more beneficial in the long run if they set their differences aside, to best face whatever may happen in the future. Dedede on the other hand I believe always had a great deal of respect for Meta Knight, but he’s still probably happy Meta Knight is willing to team up with him. By the end of the game I’m sure Meta Knight also grows to appreciate Dedede’s drive to not give up, and I believe this is why he is even willing to comfort him after their defeat. Bandana Dee is intended to be the buddy character for Kirby canonly in Fighters 2 based on the artwork in the game. While this could be seen as upsetting for Dedede, it could very well be the opposite. In one of Dedede’s Directory posts on Twitter, he mentions feeling proud of Como (little spider enemy) because he’s now able to fight as an ally and enemy in Star Allies. I’m sure his feelings on Bandana Dee growing into his own person have to be similar, even if he’s on the receiving end of his attacks. Okay… I think that’s everything! If you read this all the way through I want to thank you for taking the time out of your day to do so! Again, I might’ve forgotten a few things or misinterpreted something but I hope this made some sense heh.

[pl-panda]

Damienette aranged marriage: part 3

Whoa... Two parts in one day. Sorry if this one is worse, but yet again I wrote this instead of sleeping. 

Warning: there will be some cursing from Jason, but can you really blame him? Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1

Previous

Next

Damienette arranged marriage: Part 3

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

“And why would you tell her everything?!” Jason screamed, still hidden behind Batman’s towering posture.

“Because she is my wife Todd!” Damian screamed. The silence in the room was thick enough that if the assassin swinged his sword, he would be able to cut it in half. Finally, Bruce was the one to break it.

“Fuck.”

This worked like detonating a bomb. Immediately, Red Hood, Red Robin and Nightwing pushed their way into the room and surrounded the two teens. 

“You were gone for less than forty-eight hours!” Dick

“How did you manage to get married!” Drake

“You are just fifteen demon spawn!” Todd

“And who is she!?” Drake again.

Talia watched this whole ordeal with no small amount of amusement. That is until Bruce suddenly appeared next to her. His frown was downright scary even for her. “Explain. Now!” The growl was low and emotionless, but it was enough to yet again put the room in dead silence.

“Beloved. It is good to see you too.” Talia smiled seductively.

“I am not in the mood. Now talk!”

“Fine.” She dropped all illusion of niceness. “I made peace with old enemy of the League. Or even a shaky alliance. But to seal the treaty, an assurance was required.”

“And that assurance was?” Jason asked confused, earning a facepalm from Dick.

“The Royal Marriage. An heir of the League and future leader of the Order.”

“And that leader would be… her?” Batman asked, not fully convinced.

Marinette was standing there the whole time, greatly uncomfortable with the attention Bat Family was giving her and Damian. She did read a bit on them, but it was always Alya who never shut up about heroes. For the most part, she preferred talk about Ladybug, but lately there was slowly forming a rift. The aspiring reporter was falling into Lila’s lies, posting unreliable videos on Ladyblog. Rossi had it for Ladybug and Alya, together with the rest of Marinette’s class, was falling for her machinations. They still hanged out with Marinette, but there was this distaste forming around her. She was no longer their to-go person with personal problems, being replaced by Lila who was awful at helping others unless it benefited her. But now Marinette had more pressing matter than a pity little liar. She looked at Batman, then at the bat-kids and finally at Damian. They were all looking at her expectantly.

“Oh right! Sorry. I did it again…” She gave them a sheepish smile. “I am Ladybug, hero of Paris and Great Guardian of the Miraculous.” She stated. Most of the heroes (bar Damian who knew a tidy bit about the Order of the Guardians) were confused.

“Paris doesn’t have heroes. There aren’t even any supervillains there.”

“Excuse me?! How does nobody knows what is going on in Paris!” Ladybug shouted. “Ugh! Seriously?!”

Batman narrowed his eyes. “Forgive me, Ladybug, but the Justice League would know if there was a threat in Paris. So who are you really.”

“Then ask Green Lantern. He was the one who laughed at my plea for help.” She scowled, but then her demeanor changed. She calmed down and gave a sheepish smile. “But guess I should thank him. I can only dread what would happen if Superman was akumatized. Or Flash. Or anyone really. I don’t think I could win.”

Batman frowned. He would have a talk with Hal once he dealt with this. If there was really a threat like that, ignoring it was not only stupid, but dangerous. And the girl was at best Damian’s age. She was dealing with this for how long? The way she spoke suggested that she was in charge. A child fighting in a war all alone. 

“For now beloved, it should be enough for you that the two of them are legally married.”

“Like hell!” Jason shouted at her, waving his gun. “They are fifteen. No court would accept this.”

“Actually,” Tim started, “under some laws they can be married. For example ‘The Personal Status Law of Muslims’ in Sudan sets the minimum age at ten.” He spoke like he was reading an encyclopedia.

“But we are somewhere between Nepal and China. I don’t think there are such laws here.” Dick said, but his confidence wavered.”

“Tt. First of why don’t anyone ask me or Marinette about our opinion?” Damian asked irritated.

“Shut up Demon Spawn. Adults are working here”

“If you don’t shut up, Todd, I will make you eat your dirty socks until you choke on the stench.” The young boy threatened. Marinette cringed at this, not really wanting to imaging such situation. 

“The marriage stays.” Talia stated coldly. “Otherwise, I will not be able to stop League from going to war against Order of the Guardians.”

“You are their leader.” Batman pointed out.

“That may be correct, beloved, but I am but a regent. Only after Damian finally assumes the leadership, his word will be law. I do try to reform the league, but there is little I can do in this situation.”

“Bullshit!” Jason cursed. “You are just manipulative bitch.”

“Jason!” Dick hit the back of Red Hood’s helmet, causing him to almost tumble. “Language. There are minors in the room.”

“Don’t worry Mousier.” Marinette noted that the whole debate shifted to English. She learned it years ago when she first got interested in fashion. Some of the greatest fashion critiques wrote only in English and she didn’t want to be left behind. And other foreign critiques and designers were always translated into English. “After today, cursing is the least of my worries.” During the talk, Marinette pulled her yo-yo to check the situation in Paris. The good news were that there was no Akuma attack since her confrontation with Hawkmoth. Bad news: she was gone for over forty hours already.

“What exactly is the deal?” Bruce sighted. He loved his boys, but he could practically feel his hair graying. At least the girls didn’t go around marrying total strangers. “I want the full story Talia. Don’t even try to deceive us.”

“As you wish Beloved.” She smiled and sat back at her chair. Jason was about to hop onto where Marinette sat, but Damian ‘accidentally’ tripped him. Ladybug detransformed and Tikki flew out. 

“What is this flying mouse?!” Dick screeched upon seeing a kwami.

“My name is Tikki. I am kwami, or if you prefer a small god, of creation and luck.” 

“Okay… I’ve totally seen weirder.” Jason shrugged and Tim was too busy trying to plug in his pocket kettle to make himself some coffee.

“Ekhm.” Bruce faux-coughted to get their attention. “Begin Talia.”

“Many centuries ago, magic jewels bestowing extraordinary powers were created. These were... the Miraculous. Throughout history, heroes have used these jewels for the good of the human race. Order of The Guardians was responsible for protecting and distributing the Miraculous for the good of all humanity. Some time in the past, League has learned about the existence of this artifacts, more powerful than even Lazarus Pit. A secret war began between two organizations. There was a constant stalemate until the Order was mysteriously destroyed without a trace. We believed all miraculous to be lost until two years ago heroes and villains using them appeared in Paris. Initially, we ignored them, long since abandoning this war. But then, some month ago a temple of the Guardians suddenly reappeared with the Order in chaos. The League attacked, but they were strong enough to withstand the initial strike and turn it into a siege. In time, we would have succeeded and wiped them once and for all. But instead, the Guardians understood their situation and reached to us with agreement. A truce and alliance, in exchange for sparing them.”

“Yeah right! Only an idiot would take such offer!” Red Hood kept arguing with the Assassin woman.

“Or a strategist. Either way, the League wins. They no longer need to worry about threat, but this way they also get an ally.” Batman remained expressionless, but he kept sending Damian and Marinette side-glares. He wanted to know how they are coping with this. The girl was a bit shaken, but that was to be expected. He would talk more with her later. What surprised him was that Damian seemed to show concern for her. The kind he usually reserved only for his brothers and father. 

“Yes. While our methods differ, the League and the Order have a common goal: prosperity for all humanity. But to ensure that neither side would go against the other, there needed to be a more tangible symbol of this union.”

“Marriage of the heirs. In the past such method was often used to symbolize an alliance. It symbolized equality of both partners and parties they represented.” Tim acted as an universal encyclopedia again, which Jason did exploit to tease him mercilessly while the others focused on the discussion.

“And let me guess” Dick frowned. “If they break the deal, it means war?”

“Yes.” Damian simply nodded. The memory of his mother’s threat hanging over the girl’s live was still fresh. Now that he got to know her better Damian was surprised that someone so brave and strong could at the same time be such emotionally unstable or open. It was almost refreshing. His family was awful with emotions and beyond that women only saw his last name. Many times he dealt with liars who tried to use him to get into the pockets of his father. But with Marinette he was sure that she was genuine with her feelings. He could not find any reason for her not to be at the moment, especially after she revealed her secret to him. 

“So what? We are just supposed to roll with it? What will press think? You will give Alfred a heart attack Damian.” Dick rambled. Youngest Wayne decided to ignore him and turn to his father. 

“While this might be a bit inconvenient, I believe it is the best course of action for now.” Damian spoke with cold and calculative voice.

“And what about you?” Batman turned to the girl, who for the most part lately was busy discussing something with the kwami in French. Bruce was proficient, but he was too focused on Talia and Damian.

“I… I accepted that my duty as Great Guardian comes with certain responsibilities. If this is what it takes to preserve peace, then I guess… I guess I will roll with it.” She smiled at Dick, almost daringly. Damian smiled too. Anyone who teased his brothers like that earned some points in his book. “But I can’t just leave Paris. For now it’s peaceful, but I don’t know how long it will last. And there are my parents… Oh Kwami! What will I tell my parents! Or my friends! Or my class! What if they reject me for this and I will be kicked from home, then I will not become a professional designer and I will never fulfill my dream and I will be forever lonely…” She unintentionally rambled in mixture of English and French while walking in circle and waving her hands. Damian grabbed her by her wrists to stop her before she accidentally knocked someone out and then cupped her hands with his. She was still talking random stuff, which made absolutely zero sense. Damn. She is cute when she is rambling. What!? He shut down the intrusive thoughts and focused on the girl… his wife.

“Calm down. Take deep breaths. You will not be alone.” He hoped it would work, but she barely slowed down. He sighted. Damian looked her deep in her bluebell eyes and she saw the two whirlpools of jade green he had. They were more prominent that Adrien’s. “Listen to my voice. All is going to be fine. We will not leave you.” This time, it did work and she calmed down. 

Rest of the Batfam watched in shock how Damian has acted. It was most unusual for him to initiate physical contact at all, much less act this gentle. They looked at Talia, but she shrugged.

“I didn’t do anything if that’s what you think.” She smirked. “But I don’t think I needed.” Two newly-wed were just standing there, starring in each other’s eyes.

“Robin!” Batman finally got him to break out of this. “We gotta go. We will figure out exactly what to do later.”

“Fine. But we are taking Marinette with us.” Damian stubbornly stated.

“Yes. She should not stay here. And I have more questions for her.”

The flight to Paris was surprisingly fast. They traveled in perfect silence, but she felt rather uncomfortable with how everyone (bar Damian) sent her a suspicious glares. Finally, they landed around 8 PM on the rooftop of local Wayne Enterprises headquarter. She walked out first, happy to finally get back onto her home turf.

“Now there are some questions that needs to be answered.” Batman spoke.

“Uhm… Okay?”

“Stop intimidating her Father.” Damian scowled. 

Bruce reluctantly nodded. “Maybe it would be the best to discuss it in private of my office.” He pressed some buttons on his glove and the bat-plane camouflage. Well, it was probably more of Bat-cargo plane since it could fit six people comfortably and still have much space free. 

They got into the office, where Bruce had a total of five armchairs set around the coffee table. Immediately, Damian and Dick took two of them, leaving the head one for Bruce and one in between the two Waynes for Marinette. Tim didn’t bother trying to fight with Jason over who gets the last place, instead opting to just jump onto computer chair at the desk and activating a holo-screen. He quickly connected to Batcomputer and started to pull various files (mostly on Marinette and her close ones, but she didn’t see it). 

“So tell me. What is our young couple planning to do now?” Dick teased them.

Jason was standing next to the alcohol bar, pouring several glasses of whiskey. Before Bruce could protest, he brought five and placed them on the table. His reaction to disapproving glare from the other adults was to just shrug. “What? They are married. I think underage drinking would be the least of the problems. Oh! That reminds me.” Jason grinned maliciously and pulled his wallet. He tossed something square and silver at Damian. “I don’t want any demon spawns junior running around soon.”

Once Marinette realized what was that and what was he implying she turned redder than Tim’s outfit. Damian scowled. “I have a sword on me Todd, so watch what you are saying. I might not have chosen her to be my bride, but I will not let you embarrass her just for your fun.”

Jason saw an opportunity and he would be damned if he didn’t take it. “Which sword are you talking about?”

Damian hissed like an angry cat and drawn his sword, lunging at his brother. Todd initially wanted to block the attack with his gun, but fine steel cut right through it. Seeing murder in Damian’s face he did the only plausible thing: started to run.

Marinette was inventing new shades of red with her blushing. Bruce gave her an apologetic look. “Please, don’t take his comments to heart. Jason is…” before batman could find a right word there was a sound of something crashing, followed by a painful yelp. In just a moment, Damian returned happy, his sword a bit bloody.

“Please tell me you didn’t kill him…” Dick begged. Marinette was not sure whether this was a joke or not, but the longer she stayed with the batfam, the less sane they appeared.

“Nah. But he didn’t look where he was running and toppled the stack of boxes and I ended up stabbing him in his left calf. He will live.” Damian assured them. And true to his words, a limping Jason appeared in the doors. He grabbed a fresh bottle of whiskey on his way to the armchair and slumped resigned. “Demon spawn!”

“Idiot!”

“Enough!” Bruce wanted to pull his hair out. “We came here to discuss a certain situation not stab each other. Marinette?”

“Yes monsieur Wayne?” She asked, still stunned with what happened. She had to admit Damian acter chiviliarus protecting her honor, even if his way was pretty violent. 

“I was trying to ask you, what do you plan on doing now?”

“I… I don’t know. This all happened so fast…”

“It’s okay. I don’t think anyone would have a plan for such situation.” Dick reassured her

“Bruce does. It’s inside the safe in the batcave in folder labeled ‘Talia never gives up’.” Tim chimed in before returning to his research. 

“Well, no one sane has such plans.” Dick tried to cheer her up. It did work even if just a bit. “But ask yourself what do you want.”

“Well… I would wish to finish my education and I always dreamed about becoming a professional fashion designer.” 

“And how is this plan working so far?” Bruce inquired.

“Well, I do run a small internet boutique, where I take commissions and uncle Jagged refuses to wear anything that wasn’t personally designed by me.” She said casually.

“Wait a moment… Uncle Jagged as in Jagged Stone, the world-class rock musician?!” Tim suddenly shouted.

“Uh… yes?” She got confused

“But his only designer is the mysterious MDC! That would mean you are MDC!”

“Uh… yes?” Marinette had no idea why Tim acted like that.

“Oh god! Oh god! I got to meet MDC! Can I get your authograph?” He was suddenly next to her, holding a copy of the her first album cover she made for Jagged.

“Sure.” She signed it and handed it back. It read: ‘Good luck TD, MDC’.

Tim Fainted.

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

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)

@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 

[friendlyunclej]

Baician Memoirs: A Wealth of Curses

Prologue

     Being the only child of a business tycoon, I've always had a path laid before me to follow. From etiquette classes to study halls on conducting business amongst every race on Kalldor, my father has placed me on a path towards his "perfect future" for me. It's a life where I wouldn't want for anything in this world or the next. A destiny where the entire world of Baicia holds its breath at my beck and call. Now that I've come of age, he's been desperately trying to provide me with a suitor that can provide me with it. Every single person he has brought have bored me each date as they speak only of themselves, trying to sell their own worth to me. Some bring gifts, others bring gold, and they all lack the curiosity to get to know me. All they care for is to better their station in life. All I care for are the relics I can find and the only man I trust to help me.      I’ve always been interested in what the lives of those we’ve left behind had been like. When I wasn’t learning what correct dress to wear to appease business partners according to their heritage, I was desperately trying to collect any relic I could get my hands on. My hands grew coarse as I spent my free time excavating. There were many times I would get lost spelunking through the caves of the mountain, discovering ancient tomes, dilapidated bones, and primordial relics. There were even a few times where I lost track of time in my hobby. If my memory is sound, I once became lost in what was an abandoned labyrinth for twenty-two days. During that time, I collected bones, fossils, relics, and even a few ancient weapons. I was so enraptured with the amount of history I was surrounded by that I hadn’t realized I ran out of rations. I was lost for nearly three more days before collapsing with the exit in sight. Waking up staring up at a wooden ceiling, I thought that my father had saved me. Thankfully, Dig found me instead.      Digleby Eversharp has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I met him thanks to our fathers having served together during the Great War. My mother disappeared shortly after my birth and my father would leave me with Uncle Hellock and Aunt Lorrh the days he had business to attend to. Thankfully, that meant growing up alongside Dig. He’s not the stockiest dwarf in the mountain, but I’m grateful for that. He relies more on his wits than any brawn he possesses. Because of that, he’s actually been the one to help me identify the many relics I’ve been finding. We’ve spent nights together, going over what each relic, fossil, or item was. When we couldn’t, we would instead play a fun game where we would craft our own fiction as the artifacts’ history. I would usually craft a story of romance, speaking of the artifacts as a long lost lover’s attempt at reconciliation or a gift that never found its way to the proper recipient. He would always craft these astonishing stories of the many adventurers and criminals that the artifact has transferred between, being stolen and fought over as this omnipotent item from societies long since dead. We’ve been enraptured by each other even before I realized that we could be more than simply friends. However, my father would never allow it. As sharp as Dig is, my father demands that whoever I am betrothed to be wealthier than he is. As Cudgel Keep is a city dedicated to a goddess of combat, there aren’t many wealthy options for those who are more intelligent than strong. The few that exist in this city isn’t the most moral. Although my father and I have had many enraged arguments about what I would want for my future, he’s made it clear that Digleby will only ever be beyond arm’s reach. When I told Dig about how virulent my father is on the topic, he assured me that he wasn’t going to simply take a no. I suggested that we simply run away, but he’s certain that he has a way to convince my father of his worth. As much as I love him, I do wish that he didn’t care for my father’s approval as much as he does.

A Gnome and a Deal

     “Alright, Digleby,” I say to myself, trying to bring whatever courage I have to the forefront of my mind, “All you have to do is go into his office and tell him that you wish to have his daughter’s hand in marriage. A simple conversation, is all it is, my dear me.”

     As I turn towards the door, the smile on my face swiftly washes away as my anxiety makes the dwarven-sized door stretch to the mountain ceiling. My courage swiftly washes away as a sense of dread replaces it.

     “There’s always tomorrow, right?” I say as I try to convince myself to abandon ship.

     Taking a deep breath, I center myself while stating aloud, “It’s only a conversation, Digleby...we can handle a conversation.”

     My hand tremors as I reach for the brass handle to Sir Ironfist’s door. I start to lose my breath as I relinquish control of my heartbeat to my impending panic attack. Every footstep from the nearby alleyway sends shivers down my spine. My fingertips barely find purchase on the door as it swings open, courtesy of Sir Ironfist’s guest.

     “I suppose that I’ll leave you for the gods to deal with, Fallond,” the stocky and scarred Dwarf said as he held the door open, paying me no mind yet.

     “Once your gods come around to me, perhaps they’ll have more sense than one of their so-called ‘Venerated’, Baldor,” Sir Ironfist responded with a tinge of annoyance.

     As Baldor turns around, he stops just before bumping into me as he regards me with a joyous, “Oh, by Nadari’s breastplate, if it isn’t Digleby! I thought we discussed about you needing to be a bit louder in your life at our last consultation, lad!”

     Pulling me in for a boisterous hug, it’s almost difficult to breathe as I respond, “Ah, of course, Sir Baldor. I’ll continue to work at i-”

     He swiftly places me back down before interrupting me to say, “I believe we also spoke about you dropping the ‘sir’ as well, young Dig.”

     Straightening my back and hearing a few vertebrae pop, I respond, “Right, sorry, Baldor, it’s just...there’s a lot we talked about last consultation. A bit difficult to work on all of it at once.”

     Slapping his meaty palm against my shoulder, I nearly stumble as he continues, “Don’t worry, my dear boy! You have all the time in the world ahead of you to work on it. Besides, if it was easy, it wouldn’t be worth your time, now would it?”

     I try to continue the conversation just as Sir Ironfist exclaims, “If our business is done, I would prefer you two take your discussion out of my realm.”

     “We’ll be done in a moment,” Baldor retorts, barely turning to glance at him, “Just rub your sacks of gold in the meantime.”

     Sir Ironfist frustratedly drops the two pouches of gold he’s palming as Baldor gently places a hand on my shoulder before leaning in to whisper, “Are you here for the other thing we discussed?”

     Nervously, I answer, “I am, Baldor, but, perhaps it’d be best if-”

     Shaking his head as he interrupts me, Baldor places both hands on my shoulders as he says, “Listen to me, boy. You’re destined for great things. Wonderful things. A life of adventure, excitement, treasure, and, most assuredly, love.”

     Hearing words of encouragement, I feel my heart calm for a moment as he continues to say, “But, every grand adventure starts with a single step. This is your step, kiddo. Take it and seize what glory awaits you.”

     As soon as he finished his short speech, I felt a surge of courage form within me. It was as if a furnace which was long abandoned had finally been given fresh coals. My anxiety and concern left as all that was left inside of me was steadfast determination. Baldor gave me one last nod, smile, and pat on my shoulder before leaving the room. The aggravated glare of disdain painted across Sir Ironfist’s face swiftly clung to me as soon as the brass and wooden door to his headquarters shut.

     “Eversharp,” Sir Ironfist regarded, voice filled with antipathy.

     “Sir Ironfist,” I respond, holding a calm look against his, “If I could trouble you for a moment of your time-”

     Interrupting me, he places his hands behind his back as he retorts, “Oh, you’ve bothered me for far longer than that, boy.”

     My brow drops to a perturbed scowl for a moment as he continues to glare at me. I take a deep but quick breath to control myself as I take in his attire.

     “Sir, I understand that you are a busy man, but I can assure you that what I have come here to discuss is well worth your time,” I respond.

     “Worth my time? Worth? My? Time?” he mocks, poking my chest with his left hand covered in gold rings and rubies as he enunciates each syllable, “What would you know about my time?”

     Taking a breath, I try to retort but my moment of hesitation simply invites him to continue, saying, “A minute of my time afforded me the gilded mithril armor upon my chest. An hour of my time had me obtain the golden filigree floor you’re feeble body is desecrating right now. A day of my time fetched me three wives and the fate of Netton Harbor to toy around with. A decade of my time gave me half of this city as payment for my service to it during and after the Great War. Would you like to know what all my time in this realm is NOT worth, Diggsy?”

     Having spat on my glasses during his vitriol, I calmly pull a small handkerchief from my vest and begin cleaning them before trying to say, “I would-”

     “It’s NOT WORTH a sad excuse for a Dwarf to demand my time to hear desperate pleas for that which will never happen,” he says to me as he pushes me up against the door before walking back to the center of his golden theater, “My daughter and I have already discussed your desires.”

     “Well, if Nel has spoken to you, then you know that she wants the same as I,” I return, placing my glasses back upon my nose as I while walking towards him, “We would be happy together, away from your businesses, making our own way and treasure about the world of Baicia.”

     “Happy? How would my only daughter be happily married to a man who can’t even earn a single gold piece a day?”

     My heart sank a bit, causing me hesitate as he flicked his satin robe aside.

     “You know why I took you in a decade ago, Eversharp? After your parents succumbed to Abbathor’s Poison.”

     Knowing where the conversation was heading, I felt a hot rage flush over me as he continued, slowly pacing around his golden auditorium.

     “Because of the pity I felt knowing that one of my brothers-in-arms had fathered a child that couldn’t take care of himself after his passing.”

     Trying to keep myself from doing something drastic, I attempt to interrupt just for him to speak over me again. My teeth began to grind as my anger continued to grow.

     “Your father was one of the strongest men I ever knew before his misplaced faith corrupted him. I saw your father fend off entire droves of Duergar from our city walls single-handedly. I watched him, as a humble shop owner, gain the respect of the entire city. He was a dwarf worthy of any realm’s fear and admiration. But you...”

     Turning back around to look me in my face, Sir Ironfist slowly stepped towards me as he continued his insults while brandishing his golden teeth.

     “You’re a dwarf who can’t keep gold in his pocket, much less provide it for his future wife. My daughter deserves someone who can shower her in enough presents to bury her boredom for a life time. All you have ever brought her was old bones and painted stones.”

     “As is her desire, sir,” I speak up, stepping towards him.

     “My child deserves a dwarf who will actually protect her with more than sickly sweet begging. All I’ve ever seen you do is talk your way out of altercations, in fear of the damage that may come to you.”

     “Because my father’s dying wish was for me to rely on my mind rather than my brawn, sir,” I retort as my hand begins to ball into a fist. 

     “All you can afford her is a life of false promises and shortcomings. A false promise of love which will never be fulfilled. A shortcoming in worth and life, just as you fell short attempting to take your own the night your parents perished. No daughter of mine will be left in debt because her supposed husband can’t provide for her. No daughter of mine will be left alone because her supposed beloved can’t live long enough to love her.”

     I have no retort as he continues. My mind goes blank as I simply wait for him to get closer.

     “You’re godless. You’re gutless. You’re penniless. You’re not worth your father’s name. You’re not worth the past decade of time I’ve afforded you. Most importantly, you’re not worthy of my daugh-”

     As he gets within arm’s reach, I finally muster up the courage to interrupt him. However, my frustration closes my mouth as my fist instinctually flies into his jaw. Before my second punch could land, I’m nearly blinded by a flash of white magic as I’m sent flying into the stone steps just below the door. Barely able to feel my back, I desperately pat out the small fires on my chest as there’s now a smoldering boot print on the front of my tunic. Sir Ironfist slams his right foot down onto my chest to pin me to the ground. I feebly struggle as he slams a halberd next to my cheek, splitting the stone floor. 

     Standing over me with the spite of Altcher coursing through his weapon, I say to him between staggered breaths, “You know that Nel loves me.”

     “I know that she’s a delusional young lady who grew too attached to her childhood pet,” he replies, grinding his halberd.

     “Don’t you want,” I struggle, trying to breathe as his boot grows heavier, “Your...daughter...to be...happy?”

     “She’ll learn to be happy when I find her a proper dwarf,” he claims, raising his halberd above his head.

     Just as he swings his halberd towards my eyes, I squeak out, “You’re...a...liar.”

     Coming to a halt just an inch from my face, he asks, “What did you call me?”

     His boot pushes harder against my ribs but I manage to answer, “Liar...sir.”

     Picking me off the ground by my collar, Sir Ironfist slams my back against the door as he asks me what I mean. Knowing that the only chance I have now is to target his pride, I return his vitriol with my own as I catch my breath.

     “With all due respect, you’ve never been able to see past your wealth. Nel has never wanted your business. If I’m being frank about it, she’s never even wanted your name. All you’ve ever done is lie. You lied to her every time you’ve told her that you know what’s best. You lied to me from the moment I entered your home, claiming that I was always welcome but even back then I could almost retch at the stench of dishonesty coming from you. You even lied to yourself when you said that you still worshipped the old Dwarven gods. Your most heinous lie was to your wife, when you promised her on her death bed that you’d put her daughter above everything else.”

     After breaching the subject of Nel’s mother, Sir Ironfist nearly electrocutes me to death before shouting, “You have no RIGHT to speak on such matters, child!”

     With only one last attempt at possibly ever obtaining Nel’s hand in marriage, I wheeze as I tell him, “But the worst lie you ever told yourself...is that you actually convinced yourself that I would never have your daughter.”

     Slamming the shaft of his halberd into my throat and lifting me off the floor by it, I can barely manage to speak as I continue to say, “I’ve had...Nel...since the moment...you left...her...for your shops. She was nev-never as important as...your...pockets.”

     He tells me, “I could crush your windpipe and have you fed to a forge as kindling without anyone raising an eyebrow,” before releasing me to the ground and continuing with, “But, instead, you’ve convinced me to bestow you a worse fate.”

     As I try to gather myself, Sir Ironfist kneels down next to me and wrenches my head to the side as he says to me, “What little work you could obtain in this city will be cut off. Any possible shelter will be extinguished. Whatever form of joy you had will be unavailable. You won’t be allowed to walk this city without its occupants pleading to keep you away.”

     He pulls me up by my head as he continues to say, “You will have NOTHING within this city. No options. No possibilities. No chances. No treasures! You will BE NOTHING to this city! You ARE NOTHING to this city! YOU’RE WORTH NOTHING TO THIS CITY!”

     Coughing up a bit of blood, I give my best smirk as I murmur, “Claims the heretic.”

     I feel him slam my back into the door so hard that it falls off of its hinges while hissing, “YOU’RE! POOR! YOU! ARE! NOTHING! LEAVE!”

     Holding my throat in pain, I stumble over my feet as I swiftly dash away. Cudgel Keep’s residential area is full of slim alleyways and cramped corridors that only a single person can traverse. It’s a perfect place to force out a cry to clear your mind. I make sure to finish doing so before exiting the labyrinth of corridors to the center of the forging district.      The sounds of iron crashing against hot steel has always provided some comfort for me. It’s almost cathartic to hear the smiths of the city all cool their works of art at the same time as a soothing sizzle resonates from every direction. I support myself on the edge of the city’s massive fountain, built into the base of a magnificent statue. It’s the symbol of Cudgel Keep’s goddess, Nadari. As she is Baicia’s deity for combat, smithing, and courage, it’s almost too fitting that it’s flanked on all sides by blacksmiths and forgers. Staring at my own reflection as I wipe the last tear from my eye, I take out the only gold piece I’ve had for the past week and flick it into the water, praying for any amount of courage that could be bestowed upon a wretch like me. My coin is caught just before it hits the water by a black gloved hand. I turn to see that the hand leads to an odd gnome with short, stark white hair that is slicked back from his face and comes to soft points at the back of his head.

     With an oddly calming yet piercing voice, the man says, “I would save your coin, Digleby Eversharp. I can assure you that Nadari doesn’t listen to gold.”

     “How would you know? Are you a cleric?” I ask, confused to see a gnome this far from the verdant forests south of the mountains.

     “Oh, I most certainly am,” he replies, turning to face me before continuing, “Just not for her.”

     Weary from just dealing with one old man who claimed to worship an old god, I question, “Please, don’t tell me you follow the old gods?”

     Almost playfully acting offended, the gnome returns, “As a matter of fact, I do. And, even better, one with actual power in Baicia still. Unlike your adoptive father’s poor excuse for a ‘god’.”

     Chuckling a bit but still concerned, I continue to pry with, “I’m sorry, but have we met before?”

     “Oh, I must have misplaced my manners. My apologies,” he responds, flicking my gold coin back to me, “Zook Nackle, hoping to be at your service.”

     His smile distracts me, causing me to fumble as I grab the coin. There’s a disturbing sincerity behind his smile yet it’s not of joy or pleasure at the possibility of making an acquaintance. It almost feels deviant, somehow. Sir Nackle’s teeth are whiter than his hair. His eyes are dark and just barely large enough to prevent me from calling them beady. He’s wearing a completely black hooded cloak with seemingly no visible texture. Even his voice is a bit off as an odd, almost whisper-like echo follows his words.

     Cautiously, I inquire, “Uh...how do you know of me and my ‘adoptive father’, Sir Nackle?”

     “Wow, it has been a long while since someone has referred to me as ‘sir’,” he replies, “I’d rather you call me Zook, if I may be so bold to ask.”

     Squinting at him in bewilderment, I’m trying to decide whether he seems like a safe man to conversate with or not as he continues to say, “But, to answer your question, my goddess told me about you and your plight. Bestowed upon me the knowledge of your situation and told me to offer you my aid.”

     “So...you worship Aratuna, then? The Ornate Lady?”

     “Oh, dear no. No one so gaudy.”

     “Then, perhaps, the Silver Silhouette? The Moon Weaver?”

     “I’m not much one for helping others keep secrets, Digleby.”

     “Uh...well, then perhaps the Iron Judge of Justice?”

     “Syr? By the Nine Hells, I hope not. Haven’t you heard the rumors that she’s blind? I don’t know about you but following a blind woman has never ended well in my experience.”

     “Then, Zook, I’m rather stumped on who you might be in the service of.”

     “All you need to know is that my goddess is a benevolent, merciful, and loving deity who wishes you to obtain that which you want the most.”

     Nervously folding my arms, I stammer, “What would that be, precisely?”

     Sir Nackle reaches into his robes and presents to me two ancient rings covered in Primordial, Celestial, and a script that I couldn’t discern just before saying, “Whatever you need to get you and Nel Ironfist that happily ever after you deserve.”

     Immediately tempted, I take a deep breath before reaching for the rings and request, “How would I be able to trust you?”

     “You wouldn’t until you found out,” he speaks back, beginning to levitate and spin the two rings around each other, “I have made no deals with anyone before, so a referral is out of the question. There are people I’ve worked with before, but they’re scattered around the world, enjoying their best lives. The only thing you have to vet me is my word, but, Sir Eversharp, do I sound like a charlatan to you?”

     As he completed his sentence, I felt this odd wave of trust and familiarity exuding from him, as if we had known each other my entire life, so I respond, “No, you don’t.”

     The rings vanish into his fist while I’m reaching for them, as he shouts, “Good to hear! So, what do you need to win over your beloved’s heart, huh? A love potion? A chance meeting? A night alone, you sly dog?”

     “Oh, none of those,” I reply with a graceless smile, “We already love each other. Deeply, actually. Have for a long time, my friend.”

     The excitement in his eyes swiftly vanished before continuing with a bothered voice, “Well...what is it you need then?”

      “Her father...I need her father to understand my worth,” I reply, opening my arms as my cautious mind comes at ease. 

     His disgruntled look turns into a perplexed glare as he pinches the bridge of his nose before demanding, “So how would you want to do that?”

     With Sir Ironfist’s last words to me echoing in my brain, I feel a demand for vengeance rise from within as I say, “I would want to take from him everything.”

     Upon hearing that, Sir Nackle’s eyes slowly came up to meet mine as a sickly grin continued to grow on his face as I continued to say, “I want his stores, all across the Frigid Peaks, to be mine. I want his customers to betray him for me. I want him to be worth less than nothing. I want him to be...”

     Stopping before I continued, I felt an unfamiliar tinge of wrath almost push me to say something drastic, but I stop myself just for Sir Nackle to finish it for me.

     “Gone? You want him to be gone, yes?”

     Taken aback by what the implication may mean, I nearly rescind my request before hearing Sir Ironfist’s words clearer than before slam my head again, pushing me to confirm my intentions.

     “Yes, I want him gone, so as to never bother me or his daughter again.”

     Sir Nackle’s face turns almost devilish as he says, “Oh, I can certainly manage that for my dear friend, Digleby Eversharp.”

     Holding me in an awkward hug, I keep my hands to myself as I request, “Um...Sir-”

     “Zook.”

     “Right, my apologies. Zook?”

     “Yes?”

     “What would you want in return?”

     “Oh...I’m so glad you asked,” Zook Nackle says after sighing so deep that I feel his lungs expand as he continues to hold me tight within his arms.

     Releasing me, I fix my shirt, glasses, and hair as he recites what he would want in return. He speaks of a mine nearby that was left abandoned after the Great War. He promises that if I go into the mine, explore it, and make certain that an artifact is still within then he’ll make it so that Nel and I will never have to worry about Sir Ironfist again.

     “That’s all you need to do, my dear friend. Just go in, confirm that the artifact is still there, leave it where it is and then report back to me. Anything else you find in there is yours to keep, if you’re so inclined,” he finishes, leaving a crudely drawn map in with a minor illusion on the ground between us.

     “I won’t be,” I assure him, recording the map to memory, “Nothing in there is worth what you’ll be giving me as payment.”

     Nodding joyously in agreement, Sir Nackle asks, “Any concerns?”

     “Two, if I am to be frank,” I respond, “First, what does the specific artifact look like? If there’s other items in there that are just as aged, it’ll be hard to know I’ve found what you wish me to find.”

     “Right, of course. It’s a simple armored breastplate with an odd leather inner lining,” he describes as he waves the map away with his foot, “Should have rust, covered in scarring and dents. It should be the most mundane looking armor you can imagine, especially compared to Dwarven artistry.”

     Nodding softly, I then lock eyes with him as I ask, “Second, is there anything dangerous in the mine?”

     With a coy smile, Sir Nackle swiftly responds, “No worries, my friend. It’s abandoned.”

     Hesitant to trust him, I feel another rush of faith and confidence in his words as I simply agree to our deal before asking, “How are you going to-”

     “Oh, Sir Digleby Eversharp, you worry too much, my dear friend,” he interrupts, with a wide smile and twinkle in his eye, “You stay focused on the mine. By the time you return, Fallond Ironfist will be an inconsequential footnote in your story that will never be brought up again.”

     Sir Nackle gives me one last pat on the back before turning around and walking off towards Sir Ironfist’s residence. After that final slap of his hand against me, all feelings of worry or possible concern I had after meeting Zook Nackle for the first time had dissipated. It was almost as if that final touch from him lifted the weight of the world from my shoulders, confident and secure in the deal we made together. Without any time to spare, I rush back to my apartment to gather what I can to aid me in the mine.      My apartment is a tiny, single room loft built above a bakery. Although waking up to the scent of freshly baked pastries is a dream, the reality of living in the same room with my ice box, my bed, and only a bath to wash with but no toilet to use makes the rest of my time there a nightmare. However, it’s far more tolerable with someone to share the misery with. Thanks to Nel being the only company who tolerates me, I sometimes forget about how sorry my situation is. Sadly, this isn’t one of those times as I enter my apartment to see Nel waiting in a chair.

     Caught off-guard, I slowly close the door as I ask, “Hey, Nel. How was the pie?”

     Wiping the crumbs from the corner of her lips, she slowly stands up as she says, “The pie was great. Where’ve you been?”

     “Oh, you know me,” I respond, trying to figure out some way to keep her from asking about how my conversation went with her father, “Just walking the city to clear my head.”

     “Is that so?” she asks, raising her eyebrows as she pulls a cigar from the inside of her tunic, “Do you want to guess why I don’t believe that, Dig?”

     With her about to pin me between her and the door, I shimmy to the side and open the one window in my apartment before attempting a lie with, “Uh...you were smithing again and saw me praying at the fountain?”

     Walking back over to me to smoke by the window, she gives a cocky grin as she says, “Wow, two lies. It’s cute that you’re trying, Dig, but you’ve never been a liar. That’s why I love you.”

     She hands me the cigar and I smile from the compliment while taking a few puffs as she continues to say, “What I don’t love is being left in bed, asleep, so that you can talk to my father alone when I told you that I wanted to be there. What I love even less is seeing dried blood in the corner of my boyfriend’s mouth.”

     Not realizing that I still had blood in the corner of my mouth, I hand Nel the cigar as I go to my sink and pour some water on the rag in my pocket. I begin rubbing the corner of my mouth vigorously to scrub off the blood as I hear her put the cigar out and walk up behind me. Ashamedly turning around to face her, I expect a furious glare and a bit of shouting. Instead, she calmly places a hand on my chest and another on my neck as vibrant golden magic softly warms where her hands are touching. I feel the pain in my throat slowly melt away, as if turning into a small pill that I’ve finally managed to swallow. The issues I’ve had with breathing since Sir Ironfist’s boot caved my chest in a number of hours ago simply alleviate as I take in a full breath.

     “Thank you for-” I try to say as she punches my arm, “Ow, I thought we discussed no knuckles. I bruise easily.”

     “I know you bruise easily, Dig! You’re accident prone and have a knack at rubbing people the wrong way,” she returns, now slapping the same spot on my arm with her open palm, “That’s why I wanted to go with you to talk to my father.”

     I start trying to walk around the room to escape some hits as I say, “I thought that it was just going to be a calm conversation, Nel! How would I know that he’d not want to discuss it?”

     Now chasing me around the room, she fires back, “Maybe you’d know after last night! You know? The night I told you about how much he hated the topic when I, as his only daughter, brought it up with him!”

     Holding a seat between her and I in the center of the room, I say back, “To be fair, you told me that during the first part of what became a six-part night. Many men would get a pass for not recalling information.”

     “ ‘Many men’ aren’t able to recall the entire history of five different societies, four different languages, and seventeen legends during a six-part night, Dig,” she shouts back.

     Cockily standing and hoping that flirting would calm her, I arrogantly release the chair as I try, “Perhaps my mind slipped because of how good you were. Ever consider that?”

     Putting her hands on her hip with an unimpressed expression, Nel responds, “Flattery isn’t going to save you, Dig! If that were the case, you would have slept for just as long as I did.”

     “That’s fair,” I manage to express just before she tackles me to the ground.

     We wrestle and roll around for a bit, but it swiftly ends when I tell her that I figured out another way. She let me up to continue talking, but I pause for a moment as something dire dons on me.

     “What’s wrong with you? You’re wearing that face you get when you experience a bad epiphany,” Nel tells me, taking a stroke from the cigar.

     Realizing that I had a magical influence placed on me while making the deal with Zook Nackle, I begin to say, “I met a...uh...gnome when I went to the fountain built in Nadari’s honor. He and I made a deal.”

     “A deal?” she asks, concerned at the sound of hesitance in my voice, “What kind of deal?”

     I’m still struggling to decide if I should tell her about my decision possibly being skewed by a charm as I say, “Tit for tat. He wanted to help me with my troubles in trying to convince your father to allow me your hand in marriage. I offered a trade in favors. That’s it.”

     Over the next twenty minutes or so, I explain to Nel everything I recall about my encounter with the gnome named Zook Nackle. From his odd attire to his disturbingly approachable visage to his side of the bargain, I told her everything I remembered but omitted the magical assistance Zook Nackle could have used on me.

     After hearing me speak about it all through incoherent and worrying amounts of uncertainty, Nel started packing her own spelunking gear as she said, “Well, I’m coming along into the mine, then.”

     “Look, beautiful,” I say, trying to place my hands over hers to get her to stop, “He said that it’s abandoned and all I need to do is confirm that the piece of armor is still down there. It should be a cake walk.”

     “Like speaking with my father was supposed to be?” she shot back, packing her things faster, “Face it. If you don’t trust his word, then I’m coming along to make for damn certain that you’re safe and I have my husband with me. If you do trust this Zook Nackle’s word, which you shouldn’t but if you actually do, then I’m still coming because you owe me for seeing my piece of shit father without me.”

     Unable to keep a smile off my face, I’m reminded that Nel is the only person who can fill me with enough confidence to face a whole pantheon of deities and not bat an eye. I try to thank her for putting up with my difficulties but she simply bats my hand away as she tells me to save my thanks for when we’re married. I nod and finish packing up my own rucksack before leading the way to the edge of Cudgel Keep, where the entrance to the mine is. We grab each other’s hand and hold on tight as we descend into what will be our final spelunking adventure as anything less than spouses. Although the mine swallows any light from around us, it’s the only light at the end of an arduous journey. The only concern now is if Zook Nackle sticks to his word.

Epilogue

     “Well, that was easier than I expected,” I say to myself, calmly making my way to Fallond’s home away from home.

     “The Dwarf isn’t a necessity to my goal,” my goddess’ voice rings, echoing through my mind.

     “I know,” I reply, turning down an alleyway, “But removing one of the last clerics from the old gods eases the process.”

     “He doesn’t serve Abbathor. He serves the Ascended named Altcher,” she informs me, much to my surprise.

     Having been caught off guard, I shrug as I say, “Well, even better then. That confirms that Fallond Ironfist has forsaken the old gods as well. He was the last cleric to clear out. If he’s switched pantheons, then that confirms that no old god has a strong enough hold on this realm to be a trouble for us, then.”

     “That also makes killing him a fruitless endeavor. The Ascended Pantheon of this realm are too weak to oppose me after their recent war,” She explains, pushing me to focus on her release rather than making it easier.

     “I beg to differ. Killing a cleric still weakens their god. I know that we could put this entire realm under your rule any time, but why not teach the ones here a lesson along the way?” I state, wishing to hide my true intent.

     “So you aren’t actually doing this simply to kill Fallond Ironfist? The man who originally incarcerated you before the Great War?”

     “I often forget the extent of the knowledge you wield,” I reply, “My apologies for trying to deceive you.”

     “I’ll forgive you if you send this ‘Fallond Ironfist’  to me malleable,” She scorned, releasing a bit of fire within me.

     Now supported by my goddess, a pleasant smile creeps from ear to ear on my face as I retort, “As you wish, so it shall be.”

     Opening the door to his auditorium, Fallond’s eyes immediately stick to me, interrupting his discussion with seven other business owners. He desperately ushers the other people out of the room as I simply share a warm smile with my old friend. As he locks the door behind the final leaving guest, I see that the color in his face has washed away as he cautiously approaches me.

     “Hello, Fallond. It’s been a long time since last we spoke,” I say, walking over to his throne on the opposite side of the room.

     “Zook, you’re not supposed to be here,” he replies, desperately trying to gather his thoughts.

     “Oh, I know, but I escaped incarceration thanks to the help of my goddess,” I tell him, finding his halberd behind the desk in front of his throne.

     Seeing him starting to sweat, I pick up his weapon and sit in his chair as I jab, “I see you’ve done well for yourself! Living a life of regalia and regrets, no doubt.”

     “What makes you think you have the right to-” he attempts to say as I interrupt him by filling his body with hellfire.

     “I’m sorry. Were you about to give me one of your famous speeches about what I have the right to do in accordance to your wealth? Were you going to tell me about how a lowly gnome has no right to belittle the self-proclaimed ‘Dwarven Dragon’?”

     I stop for a moment to stroll over to him with his halberd in hand, taking my time so as to enjoy the musical tones of his pained gags and retches as necrotic sludge begins to pour from his eyes.

     Kneeling down next to him with his halberd in my hands, I whisper, “There is a certain lady I know who takes offense to such claims, Fallond.”

     Kicking him over to lay on his back, I gently place the end of his halberd into his mouth as I say, “Here, I’ll introduce you.”

     With both hands on his halberd, I surge fire through my palms and turn the weapon into molten iron sliding down his throat. As his grunts are quickly silenced by the liquid metal solidifying in his throat, I stare down at him as a wave of peace washes over me while the last bit of life fades from his eyes. A flash of orange flicks across his pupils and my smile grows wider.

     Standing up and fixing my robes, I say, “Now, I should take care of the legal matters. The boy did say that he wanted every bit of Fallond’s wealth as his.”

     Pulling a long bag from my robes, I begin peeling the clothes and jewelry off of the corpse. After stowing its personal belongings away, I move back over to its desk. I find the multitude of deeds and property papers then proceed to change the ownership over to Digleby Eversharp’s name. For the following few days, I teleport around to every person who had sold the property to the corpse and convince them that Digleby is the one who approached them about it. For those who refused or resisted, a simple modification to their memory solved that issue. I went through all the trouble to make for certain that all was set for Digleby Eversharp’s triumphant return and the fool wound up getting himself and his wife-to-be cursed. They left the mine forgetting who each other were and quickly began to age and wither, both physically and mentally. Seeing our deal as complete, I simply handed him the proverbial keys to his kingdom and left. I even left him the rings as a parting gift, but if he’ll ever get to use them is anyone’s guess. After all, it’s not as if some group of heroes would befriend a crazed Dwarf to try to lift his curse. There hasn’t been a group of wandering heroes walking Baicia since the end of the Great War. Most people are smart enough to know that heroes end up deader than door nails. I mean, honestly, what kind of psychopath would want to try to save a dying world?

[deepdisireslonging]

New Life

The Reader is packing. What will Dean say? 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N) 

Warnings/Promises: ANGST

Word Count: 1047

Note: Having a personal battle right now. What do you do when you can’t make sense of anything? When the future seems so distant and scary? For me, I write.

You were halfway through emptying your dresser when Dean knocked on your door. Already you could feel the tears behind your cheeks. “Come in,” you said, your voice watery. He stepped into your room and you didn’t look back until you had your control back. “May I help you?”

He looked at your bed, covered in your clothes, and the raggedy bag with more clothes hanging out of it. Dean took a deep breath. “What are you up to? Did you find a hunt?”

The question hit like a sewing needle to your fingertip. Sharp. True. 

“Of a sort.” A terrible answer, really. But sarcasm is the language of hunters. “I- I’m leaving, Dean.”

His Adam’ apple bobbed in his throat. 

“I can see that. But where to?”

Your mouth was dry. Your tongue ran across the roof of your mouth, searching or any moisture. “I don’t know.”

Dean stepped closer, but gave you enough space when you raised your hand to stop him. “You’re packing… but you don’t know where you’re going. You’re going on a hunt… of a sort.” His tongue darted out to his bottom lip. “Y/N, what is going on?”

The rock you refused to swallow settled in your throat. Heat settled into the tops of your cheeks under your eyes. 

“I can’t stay here.”

Dean stumbled back a step. “What- what do you mean?”

You struggled to find the words. They swirled in your chest like knives, slicing your oxygen to ribbons. From the outside, all you could do was adjust your grip on your smaller duffle bag. 

“I can’t stay here.” Saying it again cut deeply, and cut Dean deeply too. “Dean… I feel stuck.” The last word cracked. “Do you remember what I told you… what I told you about my childhood dreams?”

He nodded. “You wanted to be an archaeologist.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip. “I wanted to see the world. I wanted to study it’s past. Then I grew up. I wanted to catalogue history, and share it. And I wanted to curate museums like never before. Then my boss brought me a cursed object and I suddenly got dragged into this world where every monster I’ve ever heard of, no matter the culture or time period… they’re real. And they’re more dangerous than my ancestors could ever have described.”

It was there, in the flicker of his eyes. Your work in the Bunker archives. Cataloguing the artifacts and the books and all the research you did with Sam. 

“What I’ve always dreamed of doing… isn’t this.” You walked to place the bag in your hands on the bed. Keep moving. Keep packing. Don’t let the hurt in his eyes stop you. “I’m miserable, Dean. Every day, we risk our lives. Most of the time I hate waking up in the mornings. Saving people, hunting things… that isn’t my family business.” You forced the stone in your throat to slide down to your stomach. It could burn there like coal all it wanted. You forced a folded t-shirt into the bag. “So I’m getting out before I get killed, or possessed, or worse. There’s probably worse. This life… it’s soul-crushing. The rest of the world is out there.” You yanked a zipper closed. “I’m going to go study it. Out there. With the people I knew before this life.” 

“And will you look back?”

Dean didn’t step into your space. Though you kinda wished he would. And kind wished he’d wrap his arms around you and tell you this would be okay. 

Instead, his eyebrows creased together. Pain and anger laced his voice, cracking at the end of his accusation. “Le me get this right. You almost get cursed, and you join the team so you can study the occult. Now that you understand the gravity of it, and how dangerous it is to you, us, the world… you want to walk away? You’ve helped us stop one apocalypse already! We need you there to stop the next one.”

“There’s always going to be a next one. And another. And another.” Just the potential of those struggles weighed your shoulders down more than a ton of bricks. “There’s other stuff I want to do before my time is up. I’ve done enough. I’ve done my part. Please.” Hot tears ran down your face. “Let me go.”

When you swayed on your feet, Dean rushed forward to catch you. He was warm and held your sob-wracked body tightly. The top of your head eventually began to ache where his chin rested on in. Each soothing pass of his hand up or down your back both eased your exhaustion, and increased your guilt. 

“I want a family, Dean. I would have one with you, but-”

“The only way out of this life is bloody. And that’s no place to raise a child,” he said smoothly, as if quoting a well-loved movie. 

How many times had you two fought with those words? Maybe you should have been keeping score on who said which argument. It switched every time. 

When he spoke again, it was soft. Broken, but resigned and directed to help. “Do- do you need a ride to this new life?”

You took a deep breath over his shirt buttons. “I was going to Uber to the airport. Gotta job in the UK and-”

“Like hell you will.” He gave you one last squeeze and stepped away. “You’re gonna need every cent for this exit strategy. Or pound or Euro or whatever they use over there. I’ll, um. I’ll check the Impala. And I’ll tell Sam-”

“No.” You looked at your feet. Anywhere but his face. “I’ll tell him. As soon as I’m done packing. Shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.” 

“Okay.”

Telling Sam was somehow easier. Then again, he’d seen your growing frustration up close. And had walked in on your phone interview with your new job a month ago. Dean was quiet all the way to the airport. Played your favorite classic rock tape, though. If these had been different times, he would have walked you all the way to the gate. 

The plane was twenty-thousand feet in the air before you allowed yourself to cry, hidden in the tiny confines of the plane’s bathroom. 

***

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77​ @brianaraydean​ @chwehansol98​ @fireflyfunhousetrash​ @laochbaineann​ @ramblingsofabourbondrinker​ @savmontreal​ @shieldgirl18 @tinyelfperson​ @writtingrose​ @xladyxfatex​ @gold--gucciempress​  

Supernatural Tags: @emoryhemsworth​ @quixoticcat​ @smandrews3​ @supernatural-jackles​ @tamtamlov​ @vvinch3st3r​

Dean Winchester Tags: @19mmallory​ @akshi8278​ @ashmonet​ @bits-n-bowz​ @bringmesomepie56​ @castielsbecky​ @cookie-dough-lova​ @dancingalone21​ @gabbyrogers094​ @idontknow-canyou​ @its--killing--me​ @juanitadiann​ @kaemarie23​ @kittenofdoomage​ @lauriz67​ @millie67​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @mylostsoul28​ @peaceloveandplumbots​ @releitable​ @sassy-losechester​ @sissysalvatore​ @theriumking​ @uzum4k1-uch1h4​ @vutdidyousay​ @windeango67​

[thechosenferret]

Of Course it’s Precious Potter - Chapter 2

Summary: Draco has been tasked to steal a possession from precious Prince Potter. Little does he know, that's only a small test for what they need done next. Well, that is if Draco can carry it out to the end.

You can also read it on ao3 under the username TheChosenFerret (there’s a link in my bio, I don’t trust tumblr with links in original posts), or through my tag #Of Course it’s Precious Potter

_______________

Not wanting to give the world the opportunity to catch him in possession of a royal artifact, Draco went immediately to hover near the designated meeting spot to wait for his clients. 

It felt like hours had passed before a reasonably dressed man showed up only looking slightly uncomfortable. Draco waited a few minutes to make sure he was alone before dropping carefully to the ground. 

“Are we done here?” Draco asked, handing the guy the trophy, ready to walk away the moment he said yes. 

The guy surveyed the item briefly, getting his confidence back. “Actually, there’s one more mission you’re needed for. Bring your company and go to the second meeting spot.” Then, taking Draco’s opportunity for a dramatic exit away from him, he practically disappeared when the sun came up to blind Draco for a moment.

______

The light streamed in, hitting Harry in the face, sufficiently waking him up, only then to have a few loud knocks on the door that do nothing but remind him of his guards. 

Harry hurried through his morning routine, making sure that he at least gave an attempt at his outfit today before he ran down to the kitchen for breakfast, eager to get there early and not have to interact with people, especially today. It seemed everyone else had the same idea, casting him glances whenever they thought he wasn’t looking, but otherwise leaving him alone. 

Not before long, Harry was put on a carriage with the rest of the Dursleys, no long in the comfort of people ignoring him. Well, at least ignoring him in a considerate way. 

“Do we have to go to this?” Dudley pouted, fiddling with the button on his suit, angering the threads on the process. 

“We wouldn’t have to if Harry could just suck it up and get over it like the rest of us.” Vernon stared at Harry as he finished, trying to make his maddened gaze sink into Harry. It wasn’t effective, however, as Harry just kept his head down, trying his hardest to go over the speech a bit in his head. Even if ignoring his “family’s” taunts were going to harm him more in the end, he just really couldn’t handle trying to listen to them right now. 

Thanking Merlin that they arrived before the Dursley’s got angry enough to do something about it, Harry emerged from the carriage last, immediately trying to hide in the crowd of workers before he had to be responsible again. That didn’t last very long, however, as the workers then had to disperse to their places, leaving Harry with no barrier from the public’s eye. As soon as the nearby crowd noticed him, he straightened up and made his way to the raised area. 

It figures that the most he would get for the event was a single wooden box. Whenever Dudley wants to make a ludicrous announcement, he always gets access to the great hall, no matter how sudden it may be. However, Harry’s yearly speech only warranted a box that likely was or is full of cabbages. 

Harry unfolded his speech from his pocket, not that he needs it, he’s stressed and practiced it so much that it was gonna be stuck in his head for a long time. This is the single event that actually means something to him, and he’d be damned if he lets it fail, especially with Dudley eagerly waiting for him to mess something up. 

Harry began the speech as soon as silence fell over the good sized crowd. It was slightly smaller than last year, but he always holds out hope that it will get bigger once he starts. He didn’t have to glance at the Dursleys to know that they’ve already returned to the carriage, most likely to complain about how filthy the public is and throw in a few jabs at Harry. 

“Hello. Thank you all for coming out this morning. As you all know, my parents, former King and Queen Potter, died today 18 years ago. While I do not wish to bring up those memories again for you, I know that it is needed in order to keep their memory alive, and make sure that what they put energy into isn’t in vain. For instance, the last act they made before that day—the Family Act—to reduce the amount of kids alone in poverty—” Harry glanced at the carriage once again “—Has recently been conversed about in an effort to overrun, but it is yet to be decided…”

At some point during his speech, Harry couldn’t help but notice amongst the crowd the same set of blonde hair from his dreams. He didn’t have time to think about the logicality of him being here before he realized his brain was speaking on auto-pilot for too long, and that if he wanted to not make a giant mistake he would need to actually look at his notes again. By the time he looked back up, the hair was gone. 

______

Draco doesn’t know why he did it, let alone stay long enough to listen, but he stopped at the edge of the crowd surrounding the precious Prince. As he listened, he silently cursed himself for not bothering to check what day it was. The anniversary of the attack on the Potters. Nonetheless, Draco stayed and listened as Potter recounted their accomplishments and sprinkled in silent jabs at the rest of the castle whenever needed. 

Everything was going good until the Prince’s eyes landed on him, making Draco tense up. All he could do now was keep his eyes down (with a few brief glances up to see if he was safe), hoping that the prince didn’t notice him. Potter stared for too long for comfort before finally glancing at his paper again. Scared that this time Potter’s gaze would never leave him, he ducked down out of view and booked it. Realistically, Draco knew that he really really should not have done that, especially with him now both being late to the meeting but also having been spotted by the Prince, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

______

Draco slipped into the designated meeting spot, hoping that if he was quiet enough his tardiness would go unnoticed. For once, it seemed that luck was on his side until he caught the side of his father who in return seemed to stare right into his soul, clearly sending the message that they will have to have a little “talk” about this in the future. 

Draco tried to ignore that for the time being, instead casting his attention on the room. This was always his least favorite spot to meet with the way spiders can never be fully banished from it’s corners and it always smelled a bit like a rotten egg no matter how long it’s been since food has dared exist in this dump. It’s the price that must be paid with this being their most secure spot. 

Around the room, he could see the rest of his company planning amongst themselves, waiting for the next assignment to arrive. In the middle of it all was his parents chatting and making notes with Bellatrix who seemed too delighted with herself as always. Most of the lower level members still went with wearing their mask all the time, but lately many have taken more of an ease with only wearing it when talking to the founder. Draco wasn’t complaining with that however, it always made his airflow too restricted to feel at all comfortable. 

Soon enough the same man from the alleyway appeared and walked straight to the middle of the room, not saying anything before handing Lucius a letter. He stared at it, taking in the meaning before handing it to Narcissa who now had Bellatrix reading the letter at the same time over her shoulder. “20,000,” Bellatrix spoke up, moving to stand next to Lucius. 

“15,000,” the man replied, staring Bellatrix down. 

“21,000... for the argument,” Lucius added.

“No can do. My max is 15,000.”

“18,000. That’s the lowest,” said Narcissa. Clearly seeing that the man was still trying to work out a way around the price, she added, “This is the prince after all.”

“Deal. 18,000.” The man took out an envelope and hid it back behind his jacket for a second, his lips giving away the fact that he’s counting. After he handed the envelope to Lucius, he left immediately. His swift exit then sparked the same idea in everyone’s head as people started to exit through all the different pathways. Lucius handed Draco the first letter as he passed by, clearly intending for this to once again be his job to carry. 

As he read its contents, all Draco could do was laugh at the fact that Potter had a diary. Technically, it was referred to as a journal, but diary is a close enough word. Draco made his way back home, hand tight on the letter, ready to get some sleep before he had to think more about making a plan for the following day.

_____________

Taglist: @devilrising @sweetlialia @ladyseidenlocke

[thebibliomancer]

Song of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 11

Song of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because Aughra. Because Aughra.

Last times in book: Kylan, Naia, Tavra, and Gurjin have traveled to Aughra’s High Hill to enlist her help in warning all Gelfling that the Skeksis ruling class doesn’t have their best interests at heart. The party meets Aughra who seems hilariously grumpy and unhelpful but at least says she’ll answer some of their questions.

Chapter 11

The meeting with Aughra goes discouragingly but Kylan gets a cool book

Aughra doesn’t offer the Gelfling a place to sit so they passive aggressively stand with the orrery spheres just zooming overhead. Except Tavra who leans against the wall with her arms crossed because she’s the Too Cool Kid.

Aughra rummages around in a box of artifacts and grumbles because she can’t find what she’s looking for. Which is the crystal shard! So I guess Aughra already has the crystal shard at this point!

“Eh! Where are they? Probably buried everywhere. No matter. Not the time yet, no point. No way to know which one it is yet, anyway.”

Because I guess this is taking after the Creation Myths story where after the crystal was cracked, Aughra spent who knows how long collecting crystal shards.

Just waiting for Jen.

(I guess it makes more sense than her losing track of the shard after the Age of Resistance show)

The following conversation is amazing, by the way. Because it contains grumpy Aughra.

“The Skeksis have betrayed the Gelfling,” Naia began. “I’ve seen the Crystal where they’ve darkened it. We need to send a message to all the Gelfling, all at the same time, so everyone knows what the Skeksis have done.”

Aughra stared at Naia with her single eye, flat face unreadable except for a general sense of disdain. Kylan worried suddenly that she would not have an answer - or if she did, that it would be impossible to interpret or understand.

“And what’s the question?” she barked.

Hahah

Kylan asks if there’s a way to send a message to all Gelfling without the Skeksis being able to interpret it.

And Aughra is like ‘hey maybe if all Gelfling could read!’ Gotcha, so our first step should be a literacy program.

“Oh yes, sure there’s a way. There’s always a way. Could be this way. Could be that way over there.”

Hah!

She’s so unhelpful!

She also adds this is something Gelfling will have to figure out if it’s something that only Gelfling can understand. How do you expect Aughra to understand a thing that only Gelfling can understand??

Naia testily says it’d be okay for Aughra to understand since she’s helping but Aughra clarifies that if she can understand it then so can the Skeksis since they’re the ones who taught her how to read. (Or the UrSkeks did but nobody else gets that.)

Gurjin changes topics and asks what Aughra knows about the Skeksis.

“I know they love a good crawly. What do you want to know?”

Naia bit at the end of the question, finishing Gurjin’s thought.

“Everything!”

“Everything!” she exclaimed. “HA! Didn’t you hear what I just said! Everything’s too much! Small questions, Gelfling. Small questions with small answers for your small head!”

HAHAHAH!

Kylan decides to switch topics again, while also having to hold back Naia from probably cursing out Aughra.

He relates meeting urVa and how he had a scar on his hand and how in the encounter with SkekMal later he had that same scar on his hand and how he suspects that the two share one life force. And because of the importance the Skeksis placed on twins, ie capturing both Naia and Gurjin, that Kylan suspects all of the Skeksis are the same with one life forced shared between two bodies.

Aughra confirms Kylan’s theory.

“Skeksis were born at the last Great Conjunction. That’s when the Skeksis appeared, and the Mystics. Can’t have one without the other.”

And when Kylan asks a follow up question about the Mystics:

“Eighteen Skeksis. Eighteen Mystics. That’s one for one, isn’t it? If the numbers are right.” She grumbled, talking to herself more than to the Gelfing in her observatory. “Twins, eh? I can see what they’re thinking, but they’re wrong. Twins are two souls, two lives, two bodies. A close connect, yes! Same blood in your veins, same Gelfling essence! But you and you, you’re two, eh? Skeksis and the Mystics are one, split. What happens to one happens to the other. And the other way around, too.”

Kylan isn’t really satisfied with her answer but it is an answer, or at least a confirmation. And again, props to the Gelfs for figuring out the big Dark Crystal plot twist with nothing but good perceptiveness.

And it gives him a new line of questioning. Maybe the other Mystics can help as urVa did. Maybe the Mystics could stop the Skeksis.

(Ha, sorry Kylan. They’re not that helpful.)

“NO!” Her response boomed over the sound of the machine. “Skeksis can’t destroy Mystics. Mystics can’t destroy Skeksis. What’s one is the other. You know! You saw it! Maybe a Mystic could keep a Skeksis in one place. Stop him from doing the really bad thing. Maybe the other way around, too. Skeksis stops a Mystic from doing the really great thing. But it’s just a wall. Just an impasse, not a defeat, not destruction.”

I don’t know. Harm minimization might be a good idea at this point? I don’t know if the good that the Mystics do is balanced with the evil that the Skeksis do. What with the impending genocide of the Gelfling?

Gurjin suggests that they just kill the Mystics, to get rid of the Skeksis. Less resistance there, probably.

But Naia and Kylan are the ones who protest this time. It just feels wrong to them to kill someone as peaceful and groovy as urVa to get to SkekMal.

Kylan asks Aughra if there’s anything she could tell them that would help, or even some direction on what to do.

“Don’t know,” Aughra said. She gave a big groan, clearing her throat, and spat, right on the floor. “Don’t know.”

She said the movie line!

I don’t know if that’s the movie line and action I would choose to echo but hey, he went for it.

She also has her own plan which is to play out the clock.

“Skeksis, Mystics. Born at the Great Conjunction. Maybe they’ll die at the next. Maybe they’ll go back to wherever they came from. Maybe the whole world will end! No way to know but wait. Nothing to do but wait until the next one. The next Great Conjunction.”

When her words got nothing but a heavy silence, she scoffed.

“See? Told you it might not be what you wanted to hear.”

Kylan is pretty disgruntled and feels foolish for pinning his hopes on magic all-knowing legend lady. Everything she’s given them is interesting but doesn’t offer any concrete ways forward. And everything she’s spoken of is from long ago.

He asks if she even knows that the Skeksis have been draining the essence of Gelfling. And when Aughra seems surprised by that, Kylan realizes she may have gotten so preoccupied with SPACE that she has no idea what’s going on.

So he tells her how the Skeksis steal away Gelfling and how the Scientist binds them in a chair and forces them to stare into the Crystal. How the darkness they’ve put into the Crystal has spread throughout Thra like a sickness. How the Gelfling can’t afford to try to run out the clock because the Skeksis could drink every single one of them before the Great Conjunction.

Aughra had become distracted by the contents of her worktable, sorting through it, though her motions were slower now, as if burdened. Kylan had never wished sorrow upon anyone, but at that moment he hoped the old woman felt at least a little. It might mean she cared.

Kylan urges Aughra to tell him that the battle is worth fighting, that the Skeksis aren’t unstoppable and that the Gelfling shouldn’t just give up.

Aughra tells him that the future is immutable and that the Great Conjunction is more powerful than the Skeksis and the Mystics. But she hasn’t seen enough of the future yet to know whether there is hope. She tells him to be patient.

“I’ve had enough of patience,” Kylan said with a sigh that left him completely deflated. “And I’ve had enough of you.”

He regretted the words as soon as they escaped. Even Tavra looked surprised.

Damn, Kylan. Savage.

Rather than respond to that, Aughra notices that Kylan is holding a book he picked up off the floor and tells him “Take that book. Aughra thinks it was meant for you.”

And then she just shuffles off.

And the conversation was such a bummer that the Gelfling all just decide to leave.

So I guess Aughra’s non-interference has been a combination of being distracted by SPACE, knowing that the Skeksis are bad but being convinced that the Great Conjunction is the only solution, losing the dang crystal shard, and not being too up to date with HOW bad things have gotten.

And like Naia and Kylan, she’s not going to brook ideas that involve killing the Skeksis or Mystics. They’re halves of her old friends who taught her how to read and look at stars.

I don’t think show Aughra had similar reservations. Like she didn’t go out of her way to plan violence but also she exploded the Hunter after convincing the Archer to jump off a tower.

Granted, Aughra in the show was a lot more proactive. Once she figured out what was up she wasted no time in marching over to yell at the Skeksis. Although, it seems that book Aughra is still expecting to have the great Gelfling conference call at some point, since she told Kylan et al that they were early.

Hopefully that’s a super great book she just gave Kylan.

Maybe it hadn’t been all bad. He held out the book she had given him. It bore no markings save for a symbol Kylan didn’t recognize written in black ink on the spine. The worn, dark blue-gray leather that bound it had long ago lost a corner but was otherwise in good shape.

He flipped through the book and found most of the pages filled. The writing within was ink - not dream-etched like Gelfling writing. Some of the words were illegible, and the hand in which it had all been writ did not match the many other scrolls and parchments in Aughra’s orrery. Splatters of black dotted the paper around scrawled sketches, diagrams, and sometimes completely unintelligible shapes that did not fit into any category. Given it was done in ink and not dream-etching, he guessed the author was not Gelfling. Yet in many places, the writing was in Gelfling letters and very fluent for a non-Gelfling. The subjects of the text were unfocused, sometimes geographical, sometimes astronomical. Sometimes they even seemed to be a record or diary, long hand for a few pages. These entries were almost always in a writing Kylan could not read, but they were dense, often accompanied by messy ink splatters and sometimes the remains of torn-out pages.

Intrigue!

So presumably not written by Aughra and not written by Gelfling. And clearly important given how much emphasis the book is getting as the outcome of the trip to Aughra’s.

Hmmmmm.

Naia comments that the message on the spiderweb rock was right and Gurjin asks what the message was.

“It said do not trust her. We didn’t want to put stock in some anonymous warning, but maybe we should have.”

“Do not trust her, eh?” Gurjin echoed. “Strange thing to write about Aughra. It’s not as if she misled us. What was there to trust... or not trust? All she did was tell us nothing.”

Tavra comments that they could have saved a lot of time if they had heeded the warning (even though I’m with Gurjin that it is a weird fit to apply it to Aughra) but Naia insists that trying to warn all Gelfling is still the right thing to do.

You’re still my number one suspect, Tavra. I’m going to assume its a plot relevant message because we’ve spent so much time on it and I believe Gurjin’s logic. So that leaves Naia and Tavra. We were just in Naia’s head last book and there hasn’t been anything that could change her level of trustworthiness. Plus, she’s not a very subtle person. And Tavra has been acting weird since she rejoined the cast. I’m onto you, Tavra who is probably a Tavra.

Since Naia doesn’t have a plan now that the Aughra visit came to not much, Tavra snootily (with a hair flip even, wow) suggests they head towards the Black River.

“By the time we reach it, surely you’ll have come up with something brilliant.”

The sarcasm was so palpable, Tavra might as well have been serving it for supper.

You’re being a dick, hypothetical-Spider-Tavra.

Naia passes the buck and decides that Kylan will find something in the book he just got.

[Kylan] wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or flattered that Naia had struck him with the pressure of coming up with their next move, and under a time limit, no less.

Tavra shrugged and tossed her cape to the side so she could sheath her sword. She gave Kylan a challenging, dubious snort.

“Better start reading,” she said, then turned and followed Naia down the hill.

Pretty sweet dunk, I have to admit.

Also, I shouldn’t be surprised that everything comes down to Kylan reading a book super good.

He’s trained his whole life for this!

[emma-nation]

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU) - Chapter 9

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x f!OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning: for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Castle Dimitrescu, Lady Dimitrescu's Bedroom - Present Days

What did dying feels like? Bela couldn't remember the day she died, before she was turned. For many and many years, she wondered how it even happened. Maybe she was incurably ill. That would be the only plausible explanation on why Lady Dimitrescu decided to transform her into a vampire. Having an illness herself, she must've felt sorry for Bela being so young and already losing her life.

But that night, after being drugged by Mother Miranda, the memory from that tragic event returned to her memory stronger like never.

It was a cold night in the 1950's. Alcina threw a special dinner and invited her three favorite and most loyal servants. Three young girls. They felt honored sitting at the same table as their mistress. They were chatting and giggling but then... something started to feel strange. Starting by the fact none of the servants were around.

It began as a burning sensation in Bela's stomach. She tried to ignore it but it'd only grow stronger. She dropped the silverware she was holding. She attempted to swallow another sip of tea. By her side, she noticed one of the other two girls, the brunette one, starting to show signs of discomfort too.

"What's wrong, my dear?" Lady Dimitrescu asked when the red haired girl, the youngest of the three, started coughing.

"I can't..." she tried to answer, but the words got lost in her throat as she began to suffocate, "b-breathe..."

Bela tried to stand up and help her, but her surroundings started to spin. She held on the table for support. At this point, the brunette girl was already lying on the floor, having some kind of seizure. She looked at Lady Dimitrescu again, but she didn't seem to be worried. She seemed abnormally calm.

"W-What have you..." before she could finish the question, her lungs could no longer fill with oxygen. Her throat and her airways started to burn. She tried and tried to breathe, but it seemed impossible. The weakness started on her legs and spread to the rest of her body really quickly. In fact, she barely felt when she collapsed on the floor. When the seizures started, she was barely conscious. Her vision was already going black, but she still had time to see the Countess staring at her body, almost lifeless, as she said:

"Don't worry, daughter. Everything will be alright."

Poisoned. She was poisoned.

When Bela woke up it was already morning. She could tell by the rays of sunlight entering through the windows. She hadn't died this time, but the sensations she experienced were quite similar. Her head was aching intensely and her vision was still blurred. Whatever Miranda had injected in her blood had affected her senses very badly.

"Aleena," she finally remembered. She tried to get up but her legs were still weak. "I need to find her."

She kept moving slowly, using the walls and furniture for support. If only she could transform into flies, it would be a lot easier, but it hurt to even try.

"Fuck!" Bela cursed, frustrated. She threw herself on a couch for a moment. She needed to rest.

Her eyes analyzed her surroundings. Although Bela was in her mother's chambers, Lady Dimitrescu was nowhere to be seen.

Hours had passed since she was drugged. Anything could've happened during this time. She wondered if Aleena was still there and if she was okay. She had to be. But what if she slept for days? What if the ritual had already happened? Aleena could be dead in that exact moment and she wasn't there to protect her. That thought made her stomach feel sick. And rare were the occasions she felt sick after being turned.

"Bela!" Daniela opened the door, she seemed so confused and scared as she was. "There you are, sister! Oh my god, I was starting to think you were dead."

"You wish..." Bela moaned sarcastically. She couldn't miss the opportunity. "What the fuck happened, Dani? Where's that bitch?"

"Who? Cassandra?"

Daniela handed her a cup full of human blood. Bela drank it all in one sip. That was the only thing able to restore her body from the damage Miranda caused.

Cassandra. She remembered her middle sister being the one who told her to go to her mother's office. Traitor! She should've known when she appeared to be so supportive of her relationship with Aleena in the previous day.

"No, Mother Miranda."

"Mother Miranda was here?"

Before she could answer, the door opened with a slam. It was Cassandra, looking completely fine. She had blood around her mouth and all over her dress. In a blink of an eye, Bela lunged forward, pinning her against the wall.

"How could you?!" She yelled. "You sent me directly to a trap!"

"What are you talking about?" Cassandra argued. "Somebody caught me on a corridor and stabbed my neck with a needle, then I passed out."

"Come on, don't lie to us," Daniela shouted. "You entered my room last night and drugged me."

"And why I would even do this to both of you?"

Realizing what happened, Bela immediately let her go.

"Mother Miranda," she huffed. "She must have shapeshifted into you and attacked us all."

It was time to tell her sisters what she learned from Heisenberg. Miranda had already started to proceed with her plans and it was a matter of time before she attempted to kill them.

"This bitch is going to die!" Cassandra punched the wall. "Nobody pretends to be me and lives."

"This is the least of our problems," Bela said. "She can be anywhere right now, pretending to be someone we trust and ready to kill us all."

"Where's mom?" Daniela asked. "I couldn't find her anywhere."

Lady Dimitrescu was the last person Bela wanted to see. She lied and betrayed her, besides helping Mother Miranda to drug her.

"I don't know, I searched for her everywhere," Cassandra told. "On the bright side, there's fresh breakfast spread all around the castle."

"What do you mean, Cassandra?" Bela wanted to know.

"The servants. They're all dead."

"What about Aleena? Have you seen her?"

"No, I thought she was with you."

Bela transformed into flies and went straight to Aleena's bedroom. It was completely empty. The bed was still made as in the previous night. She went to her own bedroom next. The diary was opened on the bed, right on the pages where her father confirmed what Miranda told her in the office, Aleena was indeed the vessel.

Mrs. Volkov corpse was lying on the corridor and not so far away, there was a trail of blood, Aleena's blood. She froze in place, too terrified to even think.

"It doesn't mean anything," Daniela placed a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe she managed to escape."

"She probably did, that girl is fierce," Cassandra added, noticing how disturbed her older sister looked. "I mean, she's not one of the Lords or a servant. There's no reason for that crazy bitch to murder her."

"There is," Bela sighed deeply. "She's the vessel. Miranda was playing us like puppets. The goblet thing was already intentional, to bring Aleena to the castle where she'd be safe until she prepared the ritual."

"Oh fuck, this is bad."

"I... I'm going to the village. Maybe she's hiding in her house."

----------

Eastern Europe, Village - Present Days

When Bela left, she didn't even bother to check the temperature or to mount one of her horses. She transformed into flies and started to fly to the village as fast as she could. Everything that mattered was finding Aleena. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead. They were going to California together and they'd start a brand new life.

She stopped by her house first. The door was locked and the extra key hidden in a vase at the entrance, just where Aleena placed it before they returned to the castle.

"It doesn't mean she's not here," Bela tried to convince herself. "She must have found another way in, to not make it obvious she's hiding here."

She used the key to open the front door. The house was dark and silent. There weren't any signs of somebody's recent presence. She checked every room, the basement, the secret weapon storage... Aleena definitely wasn't there.

"Maybe she's at the pub or at one of her friends' houses," Bela concluded.

There was no way. She had to do that. She took a deep breath, gathering enough courage to enter the pub. There were only three people in there, a middle aged woman behind the counter, a blonde young male cleaning the tables and a girl, who was strangely similar to Cassandra, chatting to both of them. Bela recognized them from the pictures Aleena showed her. They were Olga, Gustav and Elena.

"Hello," she announced her presence. They all stopped to stare at her, but none of them had freaked out yet. Maybe they hadn't noticed the tattoo.

"How can we help you, darling?" The older woman asked. "Are you a foreigner?"

"I... uhh... I'm looking for Aleena Novak."

"She isn't here," it was the boy who answered this time. He had a lot of anger in his voice. "She was taken to Castle Dimitrescu a few weeks ago. We don't even know if she's still alive."

"She is," Bela told. "I've been taking care of her."

They finally understood. Their expressions all changed to pure terror and panic. The two younger adults hid behind the counter, together with the woman. The male grabbed a shotgun.

"Get the hell out of here!" He ordered. "And if Aleena escaped, don't you even dare to touch her again or I'll kill you. I'll find her and bring her home."

"Trust me, manthing. This is exactly what I'm planning to do. Mother Miranda has kidnapped her. She has been planning to sacrifice her in some kind of sick ritual tonight."

"Liar!" Cassandra's doppelgänger shouted. "Mother Miranda wouldn't do such a thing! She's always guiding and protecting us. Everything she does is for the best of all of us."

"Listen, little one," Bela exhaled deeply. She had no patience for humans. That was the reason why she avoided them. They'd usually annoy her to the point they became her prey. "I have proof. Aleena's father has left this diary, reporting everything."

"That man was insane. Most of the villagers hated him."

"But he never lied," Gustav spoke. "Adrian had some crazy theories nobody ever believed but... I've never seen him lying before. He was a man of his word."

"This is true," Olga added. "We grew up together. He was absolutely nasty, a real bastard, but not a liar. He wouldn't invent such a thing, especially when it came to protecting Aleena."

Olga locked the door and the group reunited in one of the tables, analyzing the notes Adrian Novak left.

"Fuck," Gustav cursed, while trying to speak on his phone. "Auryk must've gone after this contacts. I can't reach him."

"Do you have any ideas of where Aleena could've gone to, if she was trying to hide?" Bela asked.

"Other than our houses and the pub? Well... we had this fort in the woods when we were children. Maybe she's hiding there."

"Show me the way, little man."

But Gustav wasn't the one who was most familiar with the path to Aleena's childhood fort, it was Elena. The young woman followed them, complaining about literally everything and praising Mother Miranda.

"Mother Miranda would never do that!" Elena protested. "I'd trust her with my life."

"I was about your age when she did this to me, without my consent," Bela took off the hat she was wearing, exposing her scar. "And do you think immortality is a blessing? Try spending your life locked inside a castle, without being able to go outside most of the time."

"Why are we even trusting her, Gustav? She feeds on human blood and now we're alone with her in the middle of nowhere."

"If that makes you feel more comfortable, I've already had breakfast. Besides, I prefer drinking men's blood."

"Can we just focus on Aleena?" Gustav scolded both of them. Bela had finally found a man she respected. That boy was completely loyal and protective of her girlfriend, so he deserved some credit. "God knows why Bela is searching for her but... we have the same goal here."

"We're dating," Bela informed them of the latest news. "I love her. For real."

Both of the young humans stared at her in shock.

"It seems like we'll have a lot to catch up when I see Aleena again," the boy shook his head in disbelief. "I thought the vampire thing was just a phase."

They finally found the small wooden fortress in the middle of the woods. It was mostly destroyed, but it still could fit one adult person inside it.

"Aleena!" Gustav called. There was no answer. Still, Aleena was hurt. Maybe she was unconscious.

"Go," Bela poked Elena and ordered. "You're the shortest of us. Check if she's in there."

The girl rolled her eyes, but obeyed, ducking and entering the small fort. But there wasn't even a sign Aleena was there recently.

"Where do we search now?" Elena asked.

"I'll go to the other Lords," Bela told. "Maybe one of them is keeping her for Miranda. Thank you for your help, little humans. It was a pleasure to meet you."

Bela walked away from them. Maybe in another life, they could've been friends. The priority now was to find Aleena. She wondered if the girl went to Heisenberg seeking for protection or if Miranda had captured and taken her to that creepy cave. There wasn't much time to think, she needed to act.

She followed to Heisenberg's factory. As usual the man was swearing and torturing human beings on his basement.

"What brings you here, kid?" He asked. "Did you find the diaries?"

"Yes, but too late unfortunately," she answered. "The information we were searching for: all the women in Aleena's family have some kind of immunity against the creatures and their mutations. They healed after getting bitten by Lycans, Aleena healed when you attacked her... she's the vessel."

"We have to kill her immediately. Before Miranda puts her hands on her. If that happens, we're fucked."

"She already did. She showed up in the castle last night, drugged me and my sisters, killed the servants and now... I can't find Aleena anywhere."

"Girl, you had the opportunity in your hands," he clenched his fists. "If you had killed her, like you freaks do to every single human that steps into that castle, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"Shut up, Heisenberg!" Bela grabbed a piece of metallic scrap from the floor and threw in the man's direction. "I had no idea. Even if I did, she's my girlfriend and I have to save her before she's sacrificed on Miranda's ritual."

"Good luck with that. The crazy bitch is very good hiding things."

And Bela knew that. Next, she went to Moreau's, Miranda's most loyal follower. She didn't reveal any information, she simply tricked him by inventing an excuse, that stupid freak was easy to fool. But Aleena certainly wasn't there either. Using her flies, she checked the entire place. She did the same at Donna's house. While she entertained the woman and her creepy doll having a tea party with them, her flies inspected every corner of her eerie house.

She was about to follow to Miranda's cave when she ran into Cassandra, in the middle of the way.

"What are you doing, Bela?" She asked. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?

"I'm searching for Aleena. She's gotta be somewhere and the last place I must check is the cave."

"Mother is home," her sister announced. "She wants to talk to you."

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Living Room - Present Days

In Bela's imagination, Lady Dimitrescu would apologize. Admit she had made a huge mistake and promise her they'd find Aleena together. That was who her adoptive mother was, she'd always do anything to make her daughters happy. But at the same time, she was also that same woman from her memory. The selfish Countess who killed three young girls to have them as her adoptive daughters. She killed, violated and turned them into monsters. What kind of mother was that?

The three sisters were sitting on the couch, waiting as their mother brought a tray with tea and some other treats. That would probably be their only food for days, as Lady Dimitrescu and Mother Miranda had killed all the servants.

Lady Dimitrescu sat on an armchair in front of them, looking at Bela mostly.

"I understand you're confused, daughters. But I'll explain everything."

"Where's Aleena?" Bela quickly asked. That was the only thing that mattered. Who cared about Mother Miranda's child who died ages ago? "What have you two done to her?"

"Bela, daughter... I understand you're upset and frustrated. However, Mother Miranda has been searching for the perfect vessel to bring her daughter back to life for many and many years. This vessel happens to be Aleena. It's her fate, her purpose."

Bela eyes were burning in pure rage. How could Alcina be so blind? Even Heisenberg, that scumbag of man, was smarter than her mother was.

"Her fate is to live her own life, to go to California and achieve her dreams. Her fate is to be with me!"

"I apologize for having to get rid of all of our servants," she clearly ignored her daughter's objections. "They wouldn't understand what's to come. Once Eva is back to life, things will change. I'd like to ask you girls to behave and treat her well, like if she's a new sister of yours. We'll be throwing a party to welcome Eva to our family and I'll need your help to organize it."

"Party?!" Bela let out a sarcastic laugh. "Are you naive or only stupid? Miranda is going to kill you before this ritual is even finished! It has been her plan all along."

"Bela!" Lady Dimitrescu's eyes narrowed and she raised her voice. "I'm your mother! You owe me some respect, little lady."

"I don't! Not when you drugged me and let Miranda kidnap my girlfriend. I want to know where she is."

"Daughter..." Alcina grabbed her by the shoulders and lowered her voice. An useless attempt to help her to calm down. "Aleena is gone. She's dead."

The world seemed to stop. As well as the clock. The voices. Everything. Not even Bela's brain was capable of working and processing the words she had just listened. Dead. Aleena was dead. Her Aleena. Her girlfriend. The woman she loved. She stopped breathing. Her stomach ached as much as in the night she was poisoned. She felt she was about to collapse and die again. Her heart was beating in a strange manner. It was out of control. She was out of control.

Bela raised her golden yellow eyes, filled with hateful tears and stared directly into Lady Dimitrescu's eyes.

"You..." she clenched her fists. "You lied to me... You betrayed me..."

"I was willing to let her live, daughter," the woman tried to excuse herself. "Until the last meeting. Mother Miranda told me the truth and asked me to give her the vessel."

"HER NAME WAS ALEENA," using her strength, Bela grabbed the heavy coffee table and threw it across the room, shocking her mother and sisters. "She had a name! She was NOT a vessel."

Very rare were the times Bela actually cried after being turned. She cried when she first woke up in excruciating pain, with that huge wound on the side of her head. She cried later, when she felt lost, without knowing who or what she was. And she was crying now. Without Aleena, she felt lost again. She had nothing left. She no longer wished to live. A life without that girl's contagious joy, optimism and bravery was meaningless.

"Bela..." Lady Dimitrescu tried to touch her, comfort her somehow, but the blonde girl slapped her hand away.

"I always did everything you asked me... I always tried to be the perfect daughter for you... AND FOR WHAT?" Bela sobbed. "The only thing I ever ask you, you denied me. You took Aleena from me. You chose Miranda over your own daughter!"

"I had no choice, daughter! She'd turn against us if I refused to give her Aleena. Who knows what she'd be capable of doing?"

"She's doing it anyways. She's going to kill us all now she's gotten what she wanted."

She started to walk away. She had to be alone. As far away as possible from that woman, from that family, from that stupid castle. That small bed & breakfast at the village seemed like a good option.

"Daughter, wait," Alcina went after her, as she entered her bedroom.

"Don't you ever call me daughter again, Lady Dimitrescu," Bela angered. "I'm not your daughter. You kidnapped, killed me and turned me into a monster. Who knows what you've done to my real parents. We're not your daughters, we're only your toys, your dolls. You're not that different from your sister, Donna, after all."

She slammed the door and locked it. The bedroom was still the same way they left in the previous night. The candles, the flowers, the discs... Aleena's perfume was still on her pillows. Bela threw herself on the bed, holding the pillow against her body as she cried uncontrollably.

This was all her fault. They should've finished reading the diaries earlier and found out the truth before Miranda's visit, but she distracted Aleena, wishing to spend as much time with her as possible before she left to California. She should've been there to protect her, she promised it. She shouldn't have trusted the woman she used to call 'mother'. She was an idiot and now, Aleena was gone. Forever.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Guest Room - Present Days

Memories. Only a few days earlier Bela was afraid memories would be everything she'd have left from Aleena and now, it really was. Without anybody noticing, she went to the guest room the girl had been staying during those weeks in the castle. She obviously wasn't there, but traits of her presence were still all around.

Her clothes were still in the closet. Some where lying on the armchair or even around the floor. Bela grabbed one of her t-shirts, one from Aleena's favorite TV show. It still had her perfume on it.

"I miss you, love," she inhaled deeply the sweet fragrance. "So much it's killing me."

Then, she took the sketch book from the desk. Aleena was the most talented artist Bela had ever met. Her sister, Daniela, was a good artist, but she wasn't so creative, so expressive and precise on her traces. Bela had many classes with Lady Dimitrescu, and though she could paint decently, it wasn't her strong suit.

The drawing was still there. The one Aleena where was drawing her face. The reason why they kissed that night in the library, when she said Bela was worth being remembered.

"And now I'm the one who have nothing to remind me of you, Aleena. Remind me of every detail of your perfect green eyes, your smooth brown hair and those sweet freckles all over your body."

Her cell phone was still inside the bedside table's drawer. Bela turned it on. Aleena had set a picture of them together as her lockscreen. She smiled. In the gallery, she found many and many pictures of all the days they spent together, since the lunch Bela threw on her birthday when she arrived.

There were videos too and as soon Bela heard Aleena's voice, she couldn't help but start crying again. Why did her mother betrayed her like that? She could've helped her to save Aleena. She could've helped them to take down Miranda. That was what a real mother was supposed to do!

"Hey," she rolled her eyes, noticing she had forgotten to lock the door again. Cassandra was standing right behind her. "I'm came here to check on you."

"Leave me alone, Cassandra," Bela angered. "You didn't even like her."

"This isn't true. Aleena wasn't my favorite person in the world, not that I have one by the way, but still... I didn't want her to die."

Bela ignored her. Cassandra didn't have maturity enough to understand how she was feeling. Sometimes she wondered if her sister was even able to feel empathy for another being. But then, she was surprised by her next move.

"I'm sorry," her middle sister touched her shoulder slightly, tenderly. "I know she made you happy. Deep down, I was rooting for you both."

She forced a small smile before pulling her sister for an embrace. It was probably the first time they exchanged such a genuine moment of affection.

"We'll make her pay," Cassandra stroked her hair. "Let's kill Bitch Miranda."

The three sisters gathered together in the library. Lady Dimitrescu couldn't be aware of their plans. Daniela revealed her sisters she once heard about a dagger their mother possessed, one that was able to kill any monsters and demons.

"Are you sure about this?" Bela asked to confirm. Daniela had a creative and delusional mind after all.

"Yes," her youngest sister said. "I stole one of her diaries once. She was reporting everything about this dagger, except for its location."

"Then I'll keep her distracted while you search for it," Cassandra suggested. "I'll pretend to help her with her party for Miranda's daughter rebirth."

"What about me?" Bela wanted to know.

"You're not okay, sister. Let us handle this. Save your strength for when we stab the bitch and end her for good."

"As long as you let me do the honors, it's fine by me."

That was it. Bela would pretend to be alright. She would pretend to forgive her mother. And when the time came, she'd get her revenge against Miranda.

But then... there was nothing left for her in this world. With Aleena gone, she lost her only chance of living a new and normal life. She lost the only thing that made her feel happy and human. And if the dagger could kill any monsters and demons, well... it would be able to kill her too.

Still holding Aleena's shirt against her body, Bela lay on the bed and fell asleep, thinking of the moment they'd be reunited again in death. However, she had a terrible nightmare. Aleena was dying in her arms and there was nothing she could do.

She got up and drank some water. It had been hours since Daniela left the room to search for the dagger. She wondered if something had gone wrong. Lady Dimitrescu would never agree with that plan. She was about to leave the bedroom when the red haired girl entered the room so excited she could barely breathe.

"Bela..." she panted, "I found her!"

"The dagger?!" Bela asked. "Where is it?"

"No! Aleena. She's alive in the dungeons!"

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Dungeons - Present Days

I opened my eyes, but I couldn't see anything. The environment around me was different from everywhere I had been in the last few weeks, the air was humid but still suffocating. It also smelled terribly, like rotting flesh and blood. I tried to stand up but my leg was still badly injured. I wondered how long it'd take for the amulet to heal my body again. Maybe it only worked once. Or maybe it had to do with the fluid Cassandra injected on me before she threw me inside that nasty cell.

Speaking of Bela's sister, I was pissed. Truly pissed. It was no secret she never liked me, but I never thought she'd be able to betray her own sister like that. Telling Bela to go to their mother's office only to bring me to the dungeons was a low blow, even for her. And there was Mrs. Volkov too. I couldn't believe she was dead.

"H-Help... somebody help me..."

I tried to scream but the blood loss and the drug made me too weak. I had to find a way out. A way to regain my forces and escape that place.

It didn't take long for me to lose my conscience again. As much as I attempted to stay awake and hear any signals someone could be around, I just couldn't. I was trapped in that endless cycle of waking up for a few minutes, moan in pain and passing out again. That was it. The Mother Miranda bitch was certainly behind it. When the right moment came, she'd come and take me for the ritual. Drugged as I was, I wouldn't be able to fight it.

"Aleena!" I heard Bela's voice, approaching. Maybe it was just another hallucination. "Oh my god!"

The cell's door opened, allowing some light to enter. I was able to distinguish my girlfriend's beautiful face among all that darkness.

"It's okay, love. You'll be okay, I promise you."

I forced a small smile as she placed my head on her lap. Using a blade, she opened a small gash on her wrist and forced it into my mouth.

"Drink it," Bela ordered. "My blood is going to heal your wounds and the drug effects."

I felt my stomach twisting from the metallic taste of blood going down my throat. I definitely wasn't born to be a vampire. For a second, I thought I was going to throw up.

"Shhhh," she held me still as the nausea struck. "Just breathe. Hold it down and you'll be okay."

I did as she told. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, the nausea was slowly going away. Bela started to caress my face and I felt as some warm tears dropped on my forehead.

"Hey, I'm just a little beaten up," I assured her. "But I'm starting to feel better."

"I... I thought you were dead. My mother told me you were dead."

Why would Lady Dimitrescu do such a thing? Of course, she needed to make sure Bela wouldn't ruin Miranda's plans. She needed to convince her to not search for me.

I was already strong enough to sit. I hugged Bela very very tightly. She was sobbing desperately. Her heart was beating so fast inside her chest, it seemed like it'd explode at any moment.

"I'm so sorry," I kissed her forehead. "I'm here and I'm not leaving you ever again. I promise."

"You're the vessel, Aleena," Bela told me. "Your body is immune to the attacks of any creatures in the village. And now Miranda wants to use you to bring her daughter back to life. She believes your body is going to accept the mutation."

She also told me about my amulet. Miranda was the one to sell it to Auryk. I immediately ripped it off from my neck.

"I knew about being the vessel. I discovered it right after you left the bedroom. My father knew it and Auryk did too, this is why he wanted to get me out of the country so badly."

Bela wasn't listening to me. She was still staring at my face in disbelief, her eyes glistening with tears from the relief of finding out I was still alive. She cupped my face between her hands and pressed her lips on mine multiple times.

"I'm going to fix this," she was still crying. "I promise you. We have a plan to kill Miranda. There's a dagger hidden here in the castle, it can kill any monsters or demons. Daniela is searching for it, while Cassandra is distracting my m-," she hesitated to say that word, "my mother."

"Okay, but Cassandra was the one to kill Mrs. Volkov to capture me. We can't trust her at all!"

Of course. The bitch had more tricks I wasn't even aware of. She could shapeshift. Now I finally knew how my father was probably killed or how Auryk obtained that amulet from her. It was also obvious who attacked the castle that morning, Miranda was willing to test my healing properties again.

"She didn't. Mother Miranda can shapeshift into any person, this is why we need to be careful. We have this safe word, to know we're the actual Dimitrescu sisters. It's 'blowfly'."

I sighed and attempted to break the tension.

"And how do you know I'm the real Aleena?" I smiled.

"Trust me, love. I know," Bela kissed me, slowly and passionate. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be doing this. Imagine how disgusting it would be to kiss that crazy bitch."

We both broke into laughs. Then, she took my hand and helped me to stand up.

"We need to get you out of here. My mother can't know I've found you. Miranda is coming to pick you up at midnight for the ritual."

Through the secret passages we made to the stables, where Bela had already left my bags and a horse prepared to take me to the village.

"Once you get there," she told me. "Just drive as far as you can. Go to the city, find your brother and fly to United States."

And then I realized.

"But Bela... what about you?"

"I'm staying here, love. I'm going to kill Miranda, together with my sisters and Heisenberg."

"And then you'll meet me there, right?!" I raised my voice, fighting hard against the tears that insisted falling down. "You'll go to California."

She was in silence for a moment, trying to find the right words, but I already knew what she wanted to say. First, she handed me my cell phone.

"You said you wanted something to remember. Now you have plenty of pictures of me in this device of yours."

"Bela... what are you saying?"

"Let's be honest, Aleena," she looked down. "It was never a possibility and you knew it. We'd have to stop at the first temperature drop we came across. We probably wouldn't even make it to the airport."

"I said I'm going to find a way! It's Summer, dammit. It's not so cold away from the mountains and once we arrive in California, it'll be even hotter."

"You know your world would never accept me, love. Look at me, I have this nasty scar, this weird tattoo, I need to drink human blood to live..."

"STOP MAKING EXCUSES TO BREAK UP WITH ME! I'LL FIND A WAY! FOR ALL OF THIS. IF THEY CAN'T ACCEPT YOU, THEN FUCK THEM! I LOVE YOU AND IT'S ALL THAT MATTERS."

"I love you too," Bela kissed my forehead. "And this is why I'm letting you go."

"Even if I go, Bela," I argued, punching her shoulder slightly, "it doesn't have to end! I'm going to call you. I'm going to write you. And I'll come here to visit you too."

"In the first few weeks, love. Then, you'll become too busy to write. Our phone calls will become shorter because you'll be too tired. You'll disappear for a few days. We'll start to fade, little by little. And finally someday, you'll meet somebody new. Somebody who can make you laugh and distract you from your tragic past. Somebody who can take you to an actual date. Somebody you can introduce to your family and friends. Somebody who actually deserves you. Who can give you a future with marriage and children. Because she isn't dead. Because she isn't... me."

"I don't want any of this! I want you and only you. This future? We can have it! Here in this fucking castle or in my old small house. I don't care if I have to serve tables for the rest of my life, as long as I have you."

"You deserve a lot more than that."

"And so do you. What are you going to do, huh? To keep playing house with the woman who killed and turned you into a vampire? Serving her every wish and pretending you love this life? Or sleep with a different servant every week to hide the fact you're completely lonely and miserable?"

"Yes, Aleena. It has been this way for six decades now and it's not going to change. I have no choice, I'm sorry."

She vanished into a swarm of flies and disappeared, leaving me completely alone in the stables. I fell on my knees again, sobbing and screaming my lungs out.

"Bela, come back here!" I cried. "I love you! Please... come back..."

I still waited for a few minutes, but as I knew and as Mrs. Volkov always warned me, when Bela made a decision nothing would change her mind. Not even her mother or her sisters. Not even me.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Bela's Room - Present Days

"I'm hungry," Cassandra complained from the couch. "Pretty please... I'm helping you with the secret mission. A scrambled egg is enough."

"Tell Lady Dimitrescu to cook," Bela remained unmoved on her bed, staring at the ceiling while wearing Aleena's jacket. The one she borrowed her when the castle was attacked. It was the only memory she'd have from the woman she loved. "She was the one to kill all the servants."

Bela was listening to an old love song from the 60's. It was the one thing she was actually capable of doing in that moment. She couldn't even manage to create different scenarios about how she could kill Miranda inside her mind, or even wander around the castle searching for the cursed knife.

She knew Aleena had safely arrived in her house at the village. She sent one of her flies to follow her and observe her for how long it was possible. The girl was completely devastated, heartbroken and it killed her to see that. She could she glimpses of the moments where she sobbed while packing her bags and taking them to her old truck. But it was the best for both of them. She'd never be safe by Bela's side. Especially while Miranda was still around.

"This music is making me nauseous," Cassandra went to the disc player and turned it off. "You should've gone with her then."

"It was the safest for her. Mother would come after me immediately and take her back to Miranda's claws."

The brunette sister went to her own bedroom and returned with a book in hands, what surprised Bela because Cassandra wasn't much of a reader.

"Check this out. I asked the Duke to get you the sequel," and she started to read, adopting the same dramatic tone as usual. "As much as I struggled not to think of him, I did not struggle to forget. I worried — late in the night, when the exhaustion of sleep deprivation broke down my defenses — that it was all slipping away. That my mind was a sieve, and I would someday not be able to remember the precise color of his eyes, the feel of his cool skin, or the texture of his voice. I could not think of them, but I must remember them. Because there was just one thing that I had to believe to be able to live — I had to know that he existed. That was all. Everything else I could endure. So long as he existed."

"Ha ha, very funny," Bela rolled her eyes. Deep down she absorbed those words. She feared someday she'd forget all those small details about Aleena too, but knowing she existed someday, and that she loved her back, was enough for her to be able to live for the rest of her immortal days. "Next time, get us something useful. Like that fucking dagger."

The door opened and Daniela walked inside, pushing a food cart.

"I brought us dinner," she announced.

"Did you kidnap a villager to cook for us?" Cassandra asked, immediately grabbing a plate.

"Of course not! I cooked it myself. If Bela can do it, I can too."

The two eldest sisters exchanged a suspicious glance, before deciding they were not so hungry after all.

"And here is the main dish..." Daniela said, lifting the lid and revealing the content inside the silver pan. "A poisonous dagger."

"You did it!" Bela exclaimed, surprised and proud.

"Yes! Let's chop that bitch to pieces."

Daniela hugged her eldest sister again. It was happening too often lately, for Bela's discomfort. But this time, she accepted the hug.

"Where's mom?" Cassandra interrupted the moment. "I haven't heard from her since I left her alone in her bedroom."

The castle was way too quiet. It wasn't the first time the servants had to be gotten rid of and they were completely by themselves. Or maybe sometimes, Lady Dimitrescu would lock herself in the Opera House to play the piano or even read a book alone in her bedroom, but that wasn't the case this time. That was a different kind of silence. A silence that indicated danger, a threat.

"Mother?!" Cassandra called, followed by her two sisters. "Where are you?"

There was no answer. They were about to reach the library when the power went out, as well as the heating system. A wave of panic instantly spread over Bela's body. She feared the cold, more than anything.

"What the hell?!" Daniela yelled. "Who's there? I'm starving and angry, so don't mess with me!"

"Shhhh," Bela silenced her. She had a feeling, a hunch about who could it be. As they approached the office, her suspicions were confirmed by the argument coming from inside the room.

"Where is she, Alcina?!" They heard Miranda yelling. "You promised me to keep her safe!"

"Mother, I swear... she was in the dungeons! There was no way she could escape. The drug was supposed to keep her down until now."

"Your daughters... they must've helped her to escape. Decades trying to find the perfect vessel and they ruined it all. They'll deal with the consequences!"

"Mother, no! Don't hurt them, I'm begging you."

In that moment, the sisters witnessed as a powerful flock of birds started to fly around the caste, shattering all the windows. As the cold air of the night in the mountains filled the entire place, the three sisters knew their ending was imminent.

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's House - Present Days

The tears blurred my vision as I followed my way back to the village. Sometimes, I'd stop for a minute, hoping Bela would change her mind and come after me. Why would she assume I was safer without her? If there was someone who could protect me, that was she.

As soon as I arrived, I went straight to the garage, getting my old truck to come back to life. Then, I followed to my bedroom to pack my bags. There wasn't much I actually needed to take, mostly my clothes, my laptop and a few other important belongings. I didn't plan to sell the house anyways. I could come back and take the rest later, if I had to.

My books. I would definitely take at least my favorites. Most of them were gifts from my mom. I couldn't leave those precious treasures behind. As I grabbed one of them to place it inside of my luggage, a small piece of paper fell on the floor:

'Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken. Love alters not with time's brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom'.

I recognized it. It was an excerpt of William Shakespeare's Sonnet 116. Bela should've left it there when she was alone in my bedroom. In the end, she wrote: 'Please, think of me sometimes. I love you, forever'.

Of course I would. There was no way I'd ever stop loving that girl, or even forgetting about her at all. I could never forget about the girl who threw me the sweetest birthday party or made me the best pancakes in the world. And especially, the first girl I ever loved. I pressed the note against my chest, letting out a few tears. I placed it among my belongings, those I was going to take with me to California.

I heard the front door opening and I immediately grabbed my rifle and my blades too. Something had to at least cause some harm to that bitch. I was slowly going down the stairs in an attack position, when I heard a voice.

"Leena? Are you home?" That was my twin brother, Auryk. "I'm back."

"Auryk," I finally revealed myself. My first impulse was running to his arms, before I remembered all the lies and the betrayal. "You knew it. You fucking knew it and you hid it from me!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I was trying to keep you safe from Miranda. I planned to get you out of here before it all came to surface, but that bitch was already one step ahead."

"We have to go, right now. She's coming after me. I just escaped Castle Dimitrescu."

"Leena, no..." he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thought I was clear when I asked you to stay in the castle until I returned."

"Auryk, she drugged me and locked me in the dungeons!" I yelled. "She was going to sacrifice me in a sick ritual tonight. Which part haven't you understand yet?"

"This was the plan, Aleena. When she was vulnerable, during the ritual, the agency would take the opportunity to explode this place and all these freaks."

"WHAT?! What about the village... and the people, their houses? What about ME?! What if I got killed in this process?"

"They're going to evacuate the village in a couple of hours," he explained. "And then, they'll help them to rebuild their lives or something... I don't know for sure. But they would protect us."

"Stop them!" I ordered. I couldn't let them hurt Bela or her sisters. Or even put the villagers in danger. Some of them, such as Olga, Elena and her father would never abandon that place and its traditions. "Right now! You're not going to hurt them. You won't!"

"Aleena, what the fuck? They're monsters! They're going to kill you!"

And then, I did the first thing that came to my mind. It was stupid, unplanned and completely reckless. I knocked my brother's head with the rifle. As soon as he fell unconscious on the floor, I tied him up and locked him inside Adrian's secret storage.

"I'm sorry, Auryk. But I must save my girlfriend."

[courtorderedcake]

Hallow : ch  xxi - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch / ?? - In which Pandora's one gift is given.

Sand poured down on Emma, her head spinning and wind knocked from her lungs from the fall to the cave’s floor. They were bathed in darkness now, the light of day Killian had disappeared into blotted out as she struggled to stand. Jasmine yelled from somewhere on her left, or somewhere on what could be her left, and Aladdin was groaning painfully somewhere that seemed to be below her. 

It became harder to walk as more sand poured over her, anger and fear joined with grief, the unexpected stumble making her fall forward into the shifting grains. 

He was gone. 

She remembered everything. 

And he was gone . 

Emma screamed, letting her lungs work through their disuse and abuse in one long banshee chord, her fury rising in her veins. Kindling sparked, embers lit into a broad fan of flame that seemed to burn her alive. Magic exploded around her, bursting forth to bring the caves into a brilliant daylight that cast off the dark walls. Sand swirled around her in an elegant arc, up to the cave’s tall ceilings as it solidified into glass pillars, everything falling away at once to only the sound of her ragged cries. 

Pushing herself to press against the walls of whatever enchantment covered the cave, Emma attempted to pull herself outside of the cavern, but could not. She cursed in frustration, tears pricking at her eyes. 

“Emma, Princess, I am so sorry.” Aladdin approached cautiously, Emma’s head snapping up to stare at him. “I tried, I tried to -" 

"Don’t you dare talk to her!” Jasmine hissed, moving in from another direction, over a large slope of sand. “You said you loved me, then you tried to murder me, and you think you have any right to apologize to anyone?" 

"Jasmine, it’s not like that! I didn’t - I had no choice! I tried to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t -” 

"Bullshit!” Jasmine screamed. “You knew my magic was weak, I told you how my mother died from this burden, you knew that I was absolutely terrified while I played these noble intrigues to curry favor, you knew my fears and you ran to my enemy to tell him every one of my vulnerabilities -" 

"Stop it! Stop, just stop it!” Emma yelled, scrubbing at her face. She stood shakily, moving around the glass pillar she had made. Her hands shook, the feeling of being drenched in power overwhelming. “I need to - We all need to get out of here, so help me find a way out or get out of my way, but stop wasting time!" 

Her attempts to magic herself and them out of the cave useless; Jasmine jumped back slightly at the burst of magic that escaped Emma, the blast knocking Aladdin off his feet. 

He let out a rough groan, sitting up to look at Jasmine with a look of longing Emma recognized. It hurt to even acknowledge. All she wanted was Killian, and what if he wasn’t safe, if they actually killed him or made the Darkness worse? He had kissed her goodbye again, chosen for her again after everything they had gone through. She knew that they could beat the Darkness if he could just trust her, if he could just let her love him, and love her in return. 

And now… And now —

Her brain raced as they dug through the leftover sand on the floor. If she had to count every last particle of sand in the desert, she would just to have him hold her again. There was so much, so much she hadn’t said; so much they had only dreamt of together, so many times she had wanted his touch but without understanding why . Only to have him leave her again. 

"Look, look at this!” Aladdin was pointing to a crevice in the ground, broken apart by glass. Below it, a light shimmered in the form of a torch, intricately carved stairs curving down into the bowels of the cavern. Resting on a stair, glinting like starlight, was the shard on its broken chain. Killian had fought for her. He believed that this was fighting for them; no matter how wrong it was, he was trying. He was fighting in the only way he knew with the Darkness in him, and was willing to be torn to pieces for it. Her thoughts were so selfish and naive compared to his. 

Carefully climbing down the thick glass, she picked up the shard. Peering down the torchlit corridor of steps that led down further, Emma tied up her skirts and began to move downwards. None of them spoke, Jasmine staying close as Aladdin trailed behind with pining glances and a skittish pace. 

They all came to a halt at a door, clearly enchanted by ancient magic. A flowing language Emma could only recognize part of was written in the stone. 

“A heart that lies craves the answer that allows entrance?” Emma asked, tracing the words. 

“It wants truth. It says, ‘the answer is what the heart that is fed on untruths desires’, that only this will open the door. That’s what a dishonest heart craves the most, the truth to combat its lies,” Jasmine sighed. “So, truths… alright.”

Stepping in front of the door, Jasmine looked over to where Emma and Aladdin stood before looking back, clearing her throat. 

“My truth is this: I never wanted to rule. My mother died saving Agrabah from a great cataclysm, which was to be my fate until she saw it. She sacrificed herself for me only to have me turn out to be only mildly clairvoyant. Grandfather locked himself away from us to hide here. After my father was killed, I took over out of necessity. This future is - It’s nothing as my mother described. It’s empty. It’s lonely.”

“I miss not having to constantly search the future for what is coming, I miss talking to my parents, I miss having friends or loved ones I could trust, I miss singing with my birds, and I miss…” Jasmine turned to look at Aladdin. “I told you everything about myself, showed you my world while you promised me that you would do the same. Why did you pretend to care about me? Why did you lie to me at every turn? I don’t want to miss you, and I hate that I let myself ever allow you to know anything about me." 

The door shook, grinding open slightly. 

"You aren’t innocent here either, Jasmine!” Aladdin hissed. “If you want truth, start there. You recognize me like this. You know who I am, and how your father let the guards tie me to that post for days, all because I stole a loaf of bread. You know that I was taken in again for stealing a melon, receiving lashes. You knew they called me a street rat, that I was an orphan deemed to be better on the streets than in a home. All the while, you looked right past me, as if I didn’t exist. I never expected you to ever see me as anything because you are royalty, but you staring into my eyes like that only to leave me at the mercy of the shopkeeper, the guards, your outdated laws that let my family starve… I became consumed by it. I wanted vengeance. I wanted it after your mother died, and after your father was poisoned.”

When rumors spread in the underground of a challenger to your fledgling rule, I jumped at the chance to be useful. I was a thief, no one would hire me after your father marked me as an untouchable. I was beaten for scraps of food while told only my fleas would mourn me above, but below, I was treated like a king. I rose quickly in the ranks as a dependable pickpocket and artifact hunter. That’s when Jafar had me procure the magic from this cave. I had no idea I would be cursed with the plight of the Djinn, bound to a lamp he could use. Jafar only had mumbled about making a Dark One, Arthur chiming in about some sword called Excalibur, before I found myself bound as a slave to them at this very door. The Djinn inside gives the holder the curse, but the wielder is the one who holds the newly made Gene’s lamp. Finding myself inside of it and being summoned to do their bidding was overwhelming. “

Jafar was quick to remind me I wasn’t as good as a Dark One, but I was determined to prove myself. He couldn’t be a Genie, but he could be an all powerful sorcerer instead of a mediocre magician. Hades and Arthur came next, each with their own selfish wishes to make themselves more powerful. I wanted revenge and a better life for the poorest in Agrabah. They wanted Agrabah to burn. We began to see each other in a new light.”

It was Arthur’s second in command who pivoted them to you. I know now that he was one of your guards, and I’m sorry for your loss. Lancelot was a great and honorable man. I never understood why or how he could stand with Arthur until he was gone, labeled a traitor. I owe him a great debt for pushing Arthur to introduce me to you, and to his indomitable belief that you would fight for Agrabah’s people. Lancelot pushed for an insider that would gain the trust of the nobles, ferreting out weaknesses. Arthur agreed that the best way to use me was to spy on you. He used my magic to create Ab’dua with me as its fake prince, so I could bid for your hand in marriage. When I fell in love with you, it complicated things. Genies can’t use magic to take life, create life, or create love - these magics are too ancient, they are lost to us and our workings. We can’t access the light or the darkness, but can access the chaos of the hidden spaces. “

I could not kill you, no matter how much they wished it, but I pretended to attempt it. I delayed their wishes by pretending, stalling, and proposing alternatives. I broke the Genie laws and told them no to keep you safe. I refused to do as I was told. I paid the price.” Aladdin gestured to the long scars that now ran down his arms, no longer the bright blue. 

He stepped toward Jasmine as she backed up slightly, wavering. “When we flew to watch fireworks and you admitted you wanted to be just a normal peasant woman, I thought they would understand. I trusted them like an idiot. I couldn’t tell you I was a Genie without breaking your trust entirely or putting you at risk.” Aladdin raked a hand through his hair, laughing darkly. “They were already looking for other options since I refused to kill you. I thought our love would be enough, I thought I could keep them at bay, but then Jafar - 

"Jafar attacked when I rebuffed his advances,” Jasmine interrupted. “I remember.”

“He tried to ra -” Aladdin tried to growl angrily, but she interrupted. 

“I don’t need to relive the experience,” Jasmine bit out harshly. “In any case, it revealed him as a monster, a thief, and an unequivocal liar.”

“He is a monster. I couldn’t follow him any longer, but he was my master. I fought not to kill you, and I fought not to kill Emma. I made sure Killian could be freed, because I knew that he had deep feelings for the princess. I tried to do everything I could in my power. It was ripping me apart and I was lucky to survive… Which I’ve never been happier about. Please consider my apology, and allow me to protect you fully.”

The door slid open further, and Emma tried to push through. The gap was still just slightly too small. 

“My truth is that… I love Killian.” The door did not open. “But that’s the truth!” she hissed, and Jasmine shot her an annoyed look. 

“Try something a little less obvious, and more vulnerable.”

Emma paused, trying to think of something else that she could say. “I love my family? The United Realms? I…" 

The door did not move. Emma screamed in frustration, pounding on it, tears suddenly burning in her eyes. 

"Why!?” she screeched desperately, the howl nothing compared to what raged inside. “You want truth? Then why? Why is any of this, why does all of this suffering fall on me? Why can’t I just - why am I so useless?" 

"Emma…” Jasmine whispered approaching in worry, but Emma brushed her off. 

“I am so weak, I have had to be saved or pretend to be strong this entire time, to rely on lessons that never prepared me for any of this, and I’ve watched my people - my friends - get hurt again and again. I’ve watched them die ! Why? Are there no just gods? Is it my fault because of my royal pedigree I got by some prophetic birthright? Why can’t I just - why can’t I be stronger?” Emma cried, half heartedly pounding on the door with her shaking fists. “I just - I need to be stronger, because as far as I know everyone I have ever loved is gone, and they could be dead -" 

"Emma. That’s enough!” Jasmine snapped, pulling Emma up firmly. She looked hard, lips set and her dark eyes glinting. “You are strong. How much have you faced? How much have you done? This is not your truth. Love can be an easy truth, and it’s not one needed here. Reach deeper.” Jasmine gripped Emma’s shoulders, giving a shake, before hugging her tightly. 

“Jasmine, I don’t -" 

"You do know, Princess,” Aladdin chimed in. Both women broke their embrace, looking at him expectantly. “Well, I mean -” He blushed, shuffling slightly. “Look. This is how I see it: you choose to find the best in people, like a superpower. You choose to find the truth of that person. You see good in Killian. You see… You saw good in me. Emma, your truth is not dark, and it’s not light; it’s in between, it’s both, it’s -" 

"It’s hope,” Emma finished for him. “Pandora released all the terrors upon the world, until all that was left was hope. It clung to her skirts, multiplying for the eternity she walked the earth trying to undo her wrongs. I hold it in my heart, and I -” The door moved slightly, and she managed a wobbling smile, continuing on. 

“I know despite everything there is hope. Hope for me to find strength, to beat Nil, to save my parents, and to save Killian. I have hope that the Darkness will not stop my love from reaching him.” The door shuddered violently, sliding cleanly as dust and dirt rose from the ground.

“I have hope that one day this will be over, and the Fae - all Fae - will be able to live better lives than they had before. Lives that are hopeful, as we keep moving forward into becoming better.” Emma’s voice wavered, the door wide in front of her. “No one is going to save me, to keep these hopes alive, except for me. I have to fight. I have to punch back.”

Jasmine hugged her tightly, laughing with glee, Aladdin joining them in an embrace as they all whooped with happiness. 

Aladdin fit his palm into hers with a squeeze, Jasmine pulling him in for a tighter hug until shock registered. She jumped back as if she had been burnt, a reddening blush spreading across her cheeks. Looking sheepish, Aladdin opened his mouth to say something, but lost it when he looked to where Emma was gawking. 

On a stone pedestal, raised and lit by some source of magical light, sat a golden lamp carved with ornate markings that shone in the cave, brighter than jewels. 

Jasmine stepped forward and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Looking at the lamp, she called out. 

“Alibaba, Prince of Thieves, Djinn All Father and my Grandfather, I ask you to please wake." 

"Grandfather?” Emma squeaked, only to be hushed by both Aladdin and Jasmine. The cave rumbled, blue smoke filtering slowly from the lamp. 

“Ten thousand years in a lamp will give you such a crick in the neck!” a voice thundered, a man appearing from a column of smoke. He wore a bejeweled turban and kaftan, his deep brown eyes strikingly familiar. They blinked in surprise as he looked down at where they stood. “Granddaughter? Why have you come? I have told your father that I will never reconsider - " 

"My father has been gone now for several years,” Jasmine stated with a calm that bordered a line of steel. “He was poisoned. I took over in his stead and have ruled without incident until now, which is why I have broken your solitude to ask for aid.”

“Aid?” the Djinn asked, crossing his arms, his head falling to one side while his eyes surveyed Jasmine. “I will not help you fight some war, or subject you to the fate your mother sacrificed herself to prevent. If that is what you ask of me, you have only to receive disappointment.”

“Grandfather, I need the power of the Djinn at my side; not locked away under the sands in the middle of nowhere -" 

"Out of the question. No. Your mother did not want the fate of the Djinn tied to your life, and she gave everything for it.” His eyes moved to rest on Emma. “I swore on her name and her memory that the only magic I will perform is creating our kind. You are already part Djinn, and the thief has been freed from his servitude. That leaves only your powerful friend here.”

“Power? Me?” Emma scoffed. “I know my magic is strong and I’m supposed to be some sort of savior, but I promise you this world has turned that idea on its head. I can barely save myself.”

The Djinn laughed, and looked at Jasmine. “The Savior of legend? Well, I never thought - I never imagined this. That means it’s my time. A new All Father must be chosen, your presence heralds my daughter’s protective barriers on Agrabah being broken. It’s time for me to finally rejoin her in the chaos from whence we were born.”

Jasmine blinked, looking as confused as Emma felt. “Grandfather, what are you talking about? Please, just come with us, or give me more than just this intuition, give me the magic my mother had -" 

"The crown fitted with the diamond in the rough, delivered by the savior unknowingly, in exchange for shining her light on the Darkness. The diamond taking my place, to be seated on the throne with the crown. It was foretold, and now must come to pass before the Darkness is given a new host.” The Djinn stared at Aladdin, Emma trying to puzzle out his cryptic phrases. 

“I need - please, if they’re trying to free Killian from that…” Emma trailed off, unwilling to think about what Killian might be enduring. “Please just help us. If I’m supposed to be some savior, help me!" 

"I am. I have the diamond in hand, and he will be forever embedded in the crown as the prophecy foretells.” The Djinn turned, his eyes fixating on Aladdin. “Your power will be challenged immediately, and for that I am sorry. Take comfort knowing that your reign will be long.”

Aladdin sputtered, looking between Emma and Jasmine. “I don’t know anything about what he’s talking about, can someone please -" 

"You have so much power, Savior, it’s fascinating. It’s as if the solution to the scale tipping is you.” The Genie Father’s dark blue eyes grew darker to a coal black, and Emma felt its magic pulse through her own, as if it rippled through her body. “Light casts no shadow, and can blind those who wield it with reckless abandon as effectively as darkness. Be sure to walk your path with careful steps… I look forward to waking again, if just to hear the end of your tale Princess Emma. For the light loving the darkest recesses where it cannot ever reach is a romantic tragedy worthy of telling.”

His visage became foggy, body falling away like a fading mirage. A stillness fell, as if the entirety of the cavern had hushed in expectation, everything gathering where the Djinn had been. Emma could feel the magic, its pull as it ate itself, condensing in implosion. As soon as she felt it taper into almost non-existence, it exploded outwards, ruffling her hair in its breeze. There were bright flashes of a woman with Jasmine’s eyes, her dark hair streaked with a shock of sky blue. She smiled widely, bouncing a toddler on her knees, the memory changing to a young girl child holding the woman’s hand. She turned, looking back, a perfect miniature of Jasmine. Jasmine gasped from behind where Emma had stood, Aladdin floating slightly as the shimmering copper spots seemed to burn around him. 

The Genie Father laughed, his disembodied voice echoing in the cavern. “Be great and do things this universe needs. Do not get stuck forgotten beneath the sands, used up and all alone. Learn from my mistakes, and be better than I ever was. So long, Genie Father, leader of the free Djinn. Goodbye, my beloved granddaughter. I hope to one day hear tales of you, as well.”

Aladdin fell to the ground on his hands and knees, eyes closed as the air stopped shimmering around him. The old and ornate lamp on the stone crumbled to dust, and Emma caught the golden glint of a new lamp appearing in Aladdin’s hands. He gaped at it with wide eyes. 

“Aladdin!” Jasmine rushed to his side, pushing him to his side despite his annoyed grunt. 

“What just happened?” he asked, looking deeply confused. She looked him over as he began to grin, staring at her while she fussed over his exposed skin, looking for anywhere he had been hurt.

“I think,” Jasmine said slowly, shaking off her disbelief, “I think he made you the All Father. Which makes you a permanent fixture of my court. You serve as my second, my defense minister, my sorcerer - ”

“I guess you’re stuck with me, eh?” he teased. She only shook her head without speaking and he sighed, grin softening. “Jasmine, I’m -" 

"You have to maintain the barriers, you have to help me keep my people safe, and he just gave it to you without any instruction.” Jasmine’s breathing came quick, her composure falling away to fear. “How could he do this to me, to Agrabah -" 

” Our people,“ Aladdin replied softly. "I have to keep our people safe. And I will, Sultana. I’d fight to my last breath for everyone in Agrabah to have food, and to be protected. I swear to you, I will master the magic we need to keep Agrabah out of harm’s way." 

"You told me the truth and I hated you for it. How can we work together now with everything, all of it between us? This is all too much - ”

“I have faith we will be alright, and faith has gotten me through most of this life. When I didn’t have food, I had faith I would soon. The hope for something better, that spite of living just because dying would be easy - I had faith I would change Agrabah, and change you. I was wrong in the end.” Aladdin cupped Jasmine’s cheek, her face tilting into the touch. “You ended up seeing through me every time I tried to get anything past you. It’s been the most mystifying prospect as a thief to be so easily laid out by you - and not only because of your fortune telling. I did not so much as change you as you changed me.”

“I foresee you stealing my heart from me, Aladdin. Especially now that you are royalty, and no laws have to change for us to be together.” Jasmine’s eyebrow raised slightly, and Emma’s heart ached for Killian. “But first, let’s get back the Princess’ guide.

"Call me Al.” He smirked, and with a snap of his fingers, they stood in the blinding sun of the desert, sand swirling around them. “Let’s go free the Dark One.”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The trip to wherever they were was arduous; Killian’s feet blistered in his boots and sand stuck to any patch of sweaty skin it could cling to. His captors hadn’t stopped for rest, making it clear that they were happy to let him drag across the scorching sand or jagged outcroppings that made up the steppe. Sand became plains spotted with squat bushes and tall spiked plants, which bled into a wooded marshlands. There was a clear path now which Killian’s feet were grateful for, the faint whispering around him forcing him to raise his head. 

Crumbling homes with tents or shoddy tin, mud, and wood patch jobs lined the road, a cart on its side with a broken axle smashed into one. Children dressed in filth caked rags peeked out from darkened doorways, while shadows creeped to peer out at the newcomer. The village stank, rotten food left out near the square that an older woman added a basket too, a pig and goat happily eating away at it. They were the only ones who seemed to be happy at all, let alone healthy. 

The road curved, a towered structure coming into view. 

“Welcome to Camelot II, Dark One!” Arthur bellowed. “It’s not home yet, but it will be once I repair the legendary blade!”

Killian ignored him as he prattled about the war, refusing to ally with the United Realms, and their subsequent banishment as they walked through the gate into the courtyard. Immediately, servants flocked to help the men down, bringing fresh fruit and water with them. Killian’s mouth watered. 

“Ah, ah, Dark One!” Jafar waved a finger, chewing slowly on a fig. The juice ran down his face, into his twisted beard, Killian deciding very suddenly that he was no longer hungry. “Jawa, Anice, take the Dark One for a bath. I need him thoroughly cleaned.”

Two women came forward, flanked by a large guard who took the rope with a sharp tug. Killian lurched forward, following them with confusion. Why in seven hells was he getting a bath? He dare not complain for it, practically diving in the steaming tub that was filled for him. The women took their task seriously as they scoured his skin with rough cloth, and they were not interested in holding conversation unless it was to snap at the other. 

They rubbed him in oils when he stepped out onto the woven towel, leaving him bare but for it. Not giving him anything to wear, they led him into a darkened room that emanated a strange green glow. A glass wall filled with swirls of brown and green hypnotized Killian, like something watched him from its depths, catching him in the cross hairs. 

In the murky waters of the tank, something stirred. A dark tentacle met the glass, toothed suction cups scraping against it with a loud screech. A great yellow eye opened, something chittering as bubbles churned. Ink flooded the water making it impossible to see the thing that lay within, the tubes leading from the tank filling with black that poured neatly into a large beaker. 

“We’ve spared no luxury for your stay with us, Dark One.” Jafar smiled, appearing behind him with the other two not far behind. “Kraken ink, an unlimited supply given at will. It makes it easy to keep you docile while we work on extracting the Darkness from you.”

Killian tried not to focus on the hands strapping him down on the table, or the clatter of tools as Jafar laughed with other men. 

“Hades, Arthur, are you both ready?” Jafar practically purred. “First incision, with ink at the ready. Wound closure test one, with 60ml of ink applied topically on the left.”

The burn he felt took his breath away, the Darkness shrieking under his skin as the ink paralyzed it further. It bit into his muscles and tried to escape from around the wound, blood flowing freely without its cauterizing. He focused on the dripping ceiling above him and watched the shadows cast from the torches’ light, trying to hold himself together. 

“The Darkness is not healing the laceration, as predicted,” a low voice commented. “May I?" 

"Go ahead Hades. I have to prepare poisons, and Arthur has to get his machines ready.” Jafar was smiling, Killian was sure of it. A finger prodded the wound, his throat tightening with the need to scream. A needle pricked his forearm, ink beginning to pump through his bloodstream in earnest. 

“Alright. Preparing for reaction to flame, magical and otherwise.” The voice that belonged to Hades seemed giddy with excitement now. “Test one of six hundred and twenty four: coals placed within bodily cavities. First, the chest cavity. Administered ink intravenously to prevent rapid regeneration.”

A sharp pain shot through his chest, a knife sliding across his sternum. Hands began prying him open, his lips finally able to part as he let out a howl. The ink cut him off as his ribs cracked, the sound coming to a stop while Hades started the slow process of burning every part of his body. 

It seemed to go on for days as he drifted away, the Darkness focused on healing what it could and learning about its captors. A new, more malleable and pliant vessel suited its needs, and Killian could feel its delight at the idea even though the haze of pain. 

He breathed his own ash, Hades throwing him in a dank cell where rats scattered from the place he landed, his chest only recently healed from the hot coals they had forced inside. 

“Heal up, Arthur has many tests to perform,” Hades said in his low, mirthless intonation. 

Killian curled into a ball, shivering. If Arthur’s chosen methods were anything like Hades, the violations would make his worst nightmares seem warm. When he heard Hades’ footsteps cease as a heavy door closed, he began to laugh, his dry and cracked wheeze full of charcoal dust. Madness was setting in already, and he had promised, promised - 

Emma. 

Her name snapped him back, the idea of a vessel capable of taking this curse away worth any torment the world could devise. His mind drifted to where there had been absence, now filled again with her, nothing but his desire to leave a man no longer tethered to the Darkness. He could almost hear her voice, feel her gentle fingers in his hair or her lips against the corner of his mouth. 

Another voice broke through his reverie. 

“Are you the newest Dark One then?” a man asked from the cell across from his, the iron criss crossing bars and dim light obscuring their identity. “You are in for a long and unpleasant stay, creature. Not as if you don’t deserve this, but I suppose even after all this time I can muster a sliver of pity.”

Killian grunted, sitting up. 

The voice continued, despite Killian’s obvious attempts at ignoring it. 

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize me, or that it doesn’t recognize me, I suppose. We were such close companions when I summoned it into this world.” The man let out a sigh. “Of course, it’s only a scrap of what it was, it seems -" 

The Darkness took control with ease, Killian unable to leash it in his weakened state. 

"You know nothing about me, sorcerer,” it hissed through his mouth, its voice dry and gritted. “You, ever the hypocrite, should not question my strength… or your own weakness." 

The Darkness felt hot under his skin, as if it was boiling while it healed him, wanting to lunge from his bones and blood to attack the other prisoner. 

"History is doomed to repeat itself, it would seem. That I do know, and I say it with the utmost disrespect to you,” the man laughed, quietly. “When you are destroyed again, and your vessel dies because of it, I hope this time you cease to be.”

“LIES!” the Darkness screeched, Killian’s throat raw after it quieted, his panting breaths deep. 

Before he could process the words, he was forced to lean forward, then backwards into the stone wall with enough force to send him into unconsciousness. 

He woke to the man still talking, his head throbbing and mouth dry. He could feel the Darkness seething, its agitation coming in waves. 

He won’t shut up, shut him UP 

“Is it telling you to silence me?” the man asked, sounding bored. “It does that when I tell it truth. The Darkness does not like honesty, especially from old Merlin here.”

“You’re Merlin?” Killian rasped, his head throbbing. 

Don’t talk to him 

The sorcerer is a LIAR 

Silence him, slit his throat, cut out his tongue, just make him quiet! 

“Indeed I am,” came the reply, with a hint of amusement. “My reputation precedes me, I presume." 

"I must get rid of it, this curse,” Killian pulled himself closer to the bars, resting his head on the stone wall to keep from touching the iron bars. “Please, help me. I read your journals, I know that you were sure there wasn’t a way to end the Darkness, but there must be -" 

"There is no way. I’m sorry,” Merlin swallowed hard, his voice softening. “And because of what you are, you’ll break the ones around you. I loved a Dark One. I know how selfish, how cruel you can be. You can’t be saved… I couldn’t save her because a Dark One can’t love ." 

"I did. I do! Emma and I -" 

"If you have even the smallest bit of doubt, it is too dangerous. It will destroy everything you touch. It stains.” His voice took on a tone of tenderness, wavering slightly. “My love - Nimue tried, she desperately tried, but it consumed her seeking its own devices. If it had the shard and its freedom, you wouldn’t be able to stop it." 

Killian shook his head, the Darkness cackling as it tore him apart to put him back together. "You don’t know that. They can take it from me, and separate it from me -" 

"It needs a host. You two are bonded by powers almost as old as time, heat, cold: instincts. It is part of you, and only death can free you. One special kind of death - even if it takes a new host.”

“No,” Killian let the word fall from his lips like a plea. “They will take it from me. I will be free of this!" 

The sorcerer is right, for once

All she will be is a toy when you are gone, and I have a better vessel to control… 

"I wish you could be, but it’s not the case. You’ll hurt everyone you love, the Darkness only gets stronger the more you try peeling it back. It drove Nimue mad." 

"We could be different. You don’t know!" 

Images of Emma flooded his mind, the Darkness clawing at them. He couldn’t imagine life without her, but imagining her suffering because of him, his abuse pushed by the Darkness and growing more unstable - it tore him apart. Merlin had said the Darkness stained. Had he stained her? 

"You can have all the hope of a different outcome, but it will be the same. Nimue went at it with me in a full on rage, the need for power too much. I couldn’t risk her hurting anyone else, so I ended her life after it consumed her entirely. I loved her, desperately so. She didn’t believe in True Love, but I thought she was mine.” Merlin paused, wistful as he swallowed hard. “Don’t put your Emma through that, especially if you think you’ll hurt her before she can stop you." 

And you will hurt her. She can’t save you. 

"I wouldn’t, I never -" 

"I’m willing to bet you have, Dark One.” Merlin sighed. “As long as you have doubt, the Darkness will win. Without the dagger’s control, you are still only just a puppet to its whims. I’m sorry.”

Silence but for the wind, dripping water, and the rattle of chains echoed through the cells, Merlin going quiet. 

The sorcerer is right about that 

You are my puppet. You will destroy her. 

“It said you were a liar,” Killian blurted out. “What is it scared of, can it at least be destroyed -" 

The Darkness howled, his jaw clenching shut. His body buckled, and he could now see Merlin through the gloom as his head hit the damp floor. He was tall, dark eyes sad as his lips curled into a pitying grimace. 

"It can be destroyed, and sent away. I know it can,” Merlin turned away, walking out of Killian’s view. “I ran experiments; I thought - I thought I had the answer. I thought an element as ancient as it, the fundamental pillars of magic if you will, could break it. The Promethean Flame, The Philosopher’s Stone, the tears of a dying Goddess, first of her name. They all should work to destroy the Vorpal Dagger.”

“Then why didn’t you -" 

"I couldn’t destroy it completely because it was bound to Nimue. I loved her, and it made me blind. She died for it to live, until your birth as the Dark One awoke it again. I was there that night, on the cliffs. It was supposed to be the Goblin King holding the power, and keeping her alive.”

“You fought on their side? Against your own -" 

"I did. The war was a complexity I couldn’t untangle myself from. I know now neither side was in the right.”

“You helped him? He stole women, he raped them, he massacred those men -" 

"You are too young to know what the Goblins went through. It’s been all but erased from time, impossible to find except in a few unedited texts that Arthur owns, and the Goblin’s own recounted history. This is what they were made to do." 

"What are you talking about? They killed -" 

A rattle and creaking of a door silenced him, Jafar grinning as he opened Killian’s cell. "My turn, Dark One. I hope Merlin has warmed up that mind of yours. I have some lovely treats for it.”

Killian was led away, fighting weakly, still not completely healed. Pushed roughly onto a table, Jafar readied neatly placed bottles of different sizes and colors, next to several different syringes. 

“Shall we?” he purred. “I have a neurotoxin I have been dying to see the effects of." 

There was a jab in his arm, and Killian felt the burn of something entering his veins. Bright sparks began to play behind his eyes almost immediately, his body beginning to convulse. He took a gulp of air when the Darkness brought him back from death, his eyes closed tight, peace just within sight but never within reach. 

He couldn’t hear Jafar now, could barely feel the needles or poisons rushing into him to eat away at his organs. His broken mind focused on one single thought, holding its fragile light close. 

Emma. Emma. Emma. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The bandit camp came into view as Emma spat out the shells of dried cocoa beans off the side of the carpet. They’d been flying for days, stopping only if needed for quick sustenance, bartering for information, or other needs. They finally found one of the compounds Jafar was fond of using accidentally, a drunken and shouting group of men talking about the take over in less than hushed voices. It was easy enough to follow their camels until the sandstone buildings and tents caught the light of the horizon. 

What Emma hadn’t expected was the projectiles launched at them, the carpet diving into a rolling dodge. They plummeted from the sky only to straighten a few feet from the ground. Emma panted, as Jasmine and Aladdin heaved in breath, the three of them gripping the carpet tightly as it continued forward. They arrived at the western side of the camp quietly, their weapons in hand. 

Stepping out, her palms crackling, Emma felt a surge within her. Light surrounded her, magic pulled from the very air, the first man who realized something was amiss hitting the ground when her green eyes met his. She watched him wither, feeling oddly detached as Jasmine and Aladdin fought ahead of her. Or they did, until she drew near and more bodies fell to the ground. It felt wonderful to be so powerful, to look at the men with deep shadows in their eyes and scarred skin and know they lay on the ground because of her. They weren’t quite dead, but they were most definitely not as alive as they were. 

Trailing her fingers along the rough clay walls, the texture made her irritated by the lack of care they had put into making this home for themselves. It was carelessly crafted with no artisanry, the sheer utilitarianism of its lack of beauty unacceptable. The fire that jumped from her skin was white and golden tinted cream, shooting up the structure. 

Emma moved inwards, pressing through the smoke. "Killian?” she called out, but no answer came outside of the men who roared at her in rage. They all fell within moments, as if an unseen creature had bowled them over. Clucking her tongue, Emma stepped over them daintily. 

She turned the corner to find Jasmine talking to a terrified looking younger man, his face just starting to grow hair. They were speaking rapidly in what sounded like a mix of Agrabaric and something Emma could not identify, his finger pointing to where she stood as he screamed in fright. Jasmine turned to look, and seeing Emma, sighed. 

“He’s afraid you’re going to kill him.” Jasmine shrugged at her as Aladdin rounded a corner closer to where the young man was tied. 

Aladdin laughed, and kneeled to look at him. “Tell him she could kill him either way, but for the chance of a less painful death, or possibly no dying at all, he should answer.”

Jasmine hissed something sinister sounding  Emma could not quite understand, although she recognized the clear words for 'painful dying’ well enough. The man broke down into frantic speech, crying in deep gasps when he finished. 

Jasmine laughed slightly, motioning for them all to leave. 

“He said that they sent an envoy to Camelot II when they saw us arrive. The Dark One is held not too far from here, but he warns that the three plan to use him to transfer the Darkness to -” Jasmine blinked in surprise, looking back at Emma who fidgeted anxiously. “Killian has a brother?" 

Emma’s mouth opened, and she blinked in confusion. "No, he had a brother, an older brother. Liam. He died in the War.”

The man began to babble, animatedly pointing to Emma, and she heard the name Liam several times in his speech.

Jasmine’s brow furrowed, and she looked back at Emma. “He says this is Liam, the younger brother of the Dark One. He doesn’t know of any other brother to the Darkness. Are you sure Emma? Because he swears -" 

"I don’t care what he swears on, he’s wrong. Liam is dead, he died and - just ask him the way to Killian!” Emma snapped, her power making her hurt with how much it wanted to be used, as if a current ran through her body. Jasmine’s frown deepened, and Aladdin stepped between them with an uneasy smile. 

“Emma, maybe you should take a moment -" 

"I can’t - Liam was - Liam and Elsa are dead, and if Killian dies, if he -" 

"He’s going to be fine. We’re only a few days behind them, he will have held on, alright? I see the way he looks at you Emma. He will hold on until you get there,” He approached cautiously, wincing slightly. Looking down, she realized the ground around her had begun to crackle with the glow of her magic. Aladdin glowed a light blue himself as if he was wading through a river. “Please, calm down.”

Emma took a deep breath, steadying herself, pulling her power back as well as she could. Everything screamed against it, begging her to punish those who had done wrong, whispering how she could purify this land. Emma blocked it out, focusing on Killian. She could almost hear him, a feeling of grief washing over her. 

Emma. Emma. Emma. 

Jasmine ended her conversation, nodding towards the carpet. “I got it. Let’s go." 

Emma hesitated just a moment, looking at the man who trembled on the ground. She walked toward him, and whispered a word she hoped he understood. 

"Run." 

He fled, Emma walking towards the carpet where her friends waited. Dispelling the energy she’d been holding, the structure crumbled as flame burst from the ground, the heat blistering, blindingly bright and booming bursts of explosion rocking the ground as she joined them. 

No one said anything as they flew away from what once was the encampment, now no more than a smoldering crater in the sands. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian was thrown back into the cell more dead than alive, cycling through consciousness until he was healed enough to maintain it. In many ways he wished he had stayed in the relief of the dark, the poisons Jafar had used left him confused, suffering hallucinations, and left him lying in his own sick multiple times. 

"Who could ever love you?” Emma whispered, her throat cut by his own hand, heart beating rapidly in his other. “Go ahead. Crush it. Kill me, just like you thought you did - like you wanted to.”

His mouth tasted awful, his brain unsure if it was the twisted Emma’s kiss, or his own bile rising. 

Liam appeared, fussing over him while Elsa shrieked at him to join them, faces pressing themselves close enough that his thin eyelids weren’t enough to keep them at bay. 

“Just die Killian,” Elsa breathes in his ear, the cold air freezing his cheek. “It only hurt for a moment, and now it only hurts when the air goes through me. It’s that hole in my chest, it just lets the draft in!” she laughed, cackling. 

Milah fell away at his fingertips, turning to dust that sent him retching, his mother’s rotted palm clammy against his forehead.

“Hush my sweet boy. Hush. Mummy loves you sweet Killian boy…" 

The visions paraded through the cell until they were few, his breath not coming in gasps or pants and his eyes not blurring or falling away to kaleidoscopic fractals. 

He turned his head, rolling to move out of the damp mess he had created. When he looked up, a new visage sat watching him. His father, looking worn and weary even in this younger appearance, stared at him. 

"What do you want, phantom? Could they not send me Liam instead of you?" 

The ghoul cocked its head, but moved closer. "I’m Liam.”

Killian barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “No. Liam was a better man than you ever were. Liam was everything good, and you and I, we… were everything wrong .”

“I’m not that Liam. He was dead after I was born.” The phantom paused. “Do you think I’m Papa? You killed our other brother. I know all about everything wrong you did, Papa told me so. I don’t expect either would haunt you, you’re a disgrace.”

The words settled heavily over him, and Killian tried to process them. He could see the differences now, the skinny and sallow cheeks hiding the curve of Liam’s - his Liam’s - jawline, the eyes of their father set deep under furrowed brow. If the scrap of a man had been fed better and had not had a slightly different nose, he could have passed for a scrawny version of himself with Liam’s face and hair. 

But then, Father had named him for Liam’s memory, so as a child, as a babe even, he must have taken after their oldest sibling. The idea of his father siring another child made Killian’s stomach churn, his head still stinging from the nerves knitting back together. 

“How did -” Killian hesitated, trying to make sense of this development. “Did he abandon you, too? Fall to drink and beat you? Did you run here? I can - " 

"Abandon me?” Liam asked with incredulous laughter. His smile darkened, eyes glinting. “No. He got sick, Ma cared for him best she could until he died. Papa was patient. I don’t remember him drinking but he smoked a pipe a lot. He started all of this, with his hatred of nobility and what became of his sons. He said you both died in the war, but you died a coward. You were supposed to lead us until it was discovered how dearly you care for your princess.”

Killian swallowed hard. “Of course. Of course it was that simple to him.” Mumbling, Killian laid his aching head back on the stone wall. “He - Father was technically right. We both died in the war, I just came back as this. The remnants of a coward’s choice, even if it wasn’t mine." 

"It doesn’t matter now, does it?” Liam sneered. 

Killian shook his head slowly, before catching Liam’s eyes. “No, I suppose it doesn’t. Are you still sure you want to take it? To be filled with this Darkness, and become a coward yourself? 

"I would never - Will never be a coward like you are. You follow that prancing princess and all these rules of good form and noble intentions,” Liam spat, his lips curled in disgust. “I will live hand and hand with the Darkness as we remake this world in the image of the Blackwater. I’ll go back and reclaim our lineage -”. 

“No one has ever done anything hand in hand with the Darkness. It uses you, until you are empty. It will hollow you out,” Killian stated with bitterness. “I ask again, do you want this? Do you not have anyone that you wish to protect? It will hurt them, no matter how hard you try.”

Liam did not answer. 

Killian sat in the silence, until Liam spoke quietly. 

“Anyone?” Killian nodded. “Even family?" 

"Especially family,” Killian admitted, unable to hide the sorrow in his voice. “I killed my brother as I begged to stop. The Darkness reveled in it. It laughed while I broke, as I screamed for it to spare him. Do you - are there more of - do you have more siblings? Is your mum…?”

“Still alive? Yeah, she’ll live another thousand years just to be around, pull'n me by the ear. She’s a terror. Papa said she was scarier than the sea and hell combined. They loved each other though, and me. It’s just us. She misses him a lot." 

"I'm…” Killian swallowed hard again, a strange whirlwind of emotion going through his mind. 

“You don’t need to be sorry or any of that shit.” Liam grunted, then spat at the floor. “You don’t owe anything to me or to Papa. You may have made Papa ashamed, but I didn’t - and I can’t wait to destroy everything for this cause. I’ll have the Darkness at my control in no time." 

"You’ll die too then,” Killian whispered, shrugging. Liam tensed, his shoulders rising as his fists balled. “By Fath - by his standards I’m dead. You will be the end of the Jones men. It’s history repeating itself as usual - I killed my Liam, and now you, the new Liam, will kill me. Then in turn the Darkness will take over, and kill you. I’ll damn your soul gratis as I die, two Liams ended by my hand. Father will be ever so proud.”

“Shut up,” Liam hissed. He stood, leaving with a slam of the cell’s heavy door. 

Killian laughed lightly, still unable to stop as he scrubbed his face. Merlin was either quiet or somewhere else, the stillness eerie as the wind outside howled. 

Closing his eyes, he dreamt of being free, the Darkness too tired and hopeful itself to try and stop him. 

Footsteps woke him later, the time indeterminate while he slept. He could hear Arthur’s laugh before his boots even came close, Merlin groaning as he was thrown back into the cell across from his. His own door rattled, and Killian resisted the urge to open his eyes. Heavy hands forced him up by his hair, his eyes squinting open to stare at Arthur’s grinning face. 

“Time to play, Dark One.” Arthur began to walk, the man holding Killian by his scalp dragging Killian along behind his path. “I have a fascination with Mortal implements of torture. I can’t wait to see what my updates for them will look like, and how they will work on Fae. I had to get Goblins to do the iron working, I wanted it perfect.”

Something creaked loudly, metal clanging. 

“Since you seem to be so tired, we’ll let you rest for a bit. Liam told me you were crying for your princess too, so I managed to get you some company - she’s a fine maiden, but a bit steely.” Arthur chuckled, and Killian was shoved into a dark space. His back hit spikes, the iron sharp. “Enjoy the embrace of the iron maiden, mate .”

The door closed, and Killian heard the crunch of his just healed ribs. He screamed, listening to Arthur laughing in glee. 

It didn’t last long, the door opened only after a few hours and he was wrenched out, Arthur pouting. “ You didn’t scream for very long. How disappointing.”

Killian was thrown on a rough wooden table, his body stripped of the dirty clothing. Cold water was thrown on him as his wounds attempted to close, a rough scrubbing given to him by the same brute that had thrown him around. 

“This though, this is my pride and joy.” Something was attached to him, then another. Suctioned pieces stuck on  his skin in various places. “It’s a machination for torture, meant to hurt more than any magics or physical torment in the Realms. Merlin was forced to help me design it, and I must say, I hope his work is nothing short of masterful. Now, don’t hold it in this time.”

Something clicked, and Killian’s eyes shot open. He screamed, unable to stop, the pain shot up his nerves and down his spine as if he was being torn apart cell by cell. The Darkness fell away, watching something do its work far more efficiently. 

It stopped, Arthur talking to someone he couldn’t see. 

“What sort of message? Can’t you see I’m busy -" 

The messenger dismounted from the carpet while Killian took advantage of the respite, sucking in hissed gulps of air. The binds at his ankles and wrists had rubbed the skin raw, but his head and chest were the worst, burning in a horrific fire like pain. Arthur bellowed out a laugh that trailed into a dark chuckle. 

"Oh, now this… This is too rich. Sit down, Gilead." 

The messenger sat dutifully, and Killian struggled to flinch back when Arthur slowly walked back to the machine. 

"I must tell you, your obstinacy and impudence so far has been honorable. No one will say that you aren’t strong of mind.” Arthur paused, his grin wide. “ However , ever since I discovered the Darkness was so close to the surface, I have wondered how strong is the heart attached to it. To keep your princess alive for so long, against all odds and your own interests, well.” He smirked, laughing again. “I thought how weak you must be, if I could just figure out what was special about her. Did you covet her kingdom? Her power? Proximity to her parents and those who wronged you?" 

Killian grunted, Arthur cranking the lever to stretch him taut again. The piece of wood in his mouth suddenly felt too dry, Arthur’s mentions of Emma putting him in a state of unease he hadn’t felt before. 

"Alas, now I see how simple it actually is. Or, more aptly, was . You did not deserve how much she loved you. Lucky for us, that has been rectified. The princess has been removed from the situation." 

The words didn’t settle on his pain hazed mind right away, his noise behind the gag in his mouth at first in disbelief. Arthur laughed heartily, motioning for the messenger to sit up. 

"Come here Gilead. Tell The Dark One what you told me." 

The curly haired redhead stepped towards his master, gulping before speaking in a reedy voice. 

"Princess Emma of the United Realms was spotted approaching the Eastern compound near Agrabah with at least one other companion, possibly two. Our wizard took care of her.” The boy, he was more boy than man Killian could see now, mimed something crashing to the ground, Killian’s heart stopping. 

Arthur roared with laughter, almost doubled over. 

“You know, I meant what I said. You didn’t deserve how much Emma loved you,” he sneered, waving his man away. “It was sickening really, once I realized you two were always staring at each other or bickering. Yearning like some courtiers fresh out of finishing. It’s a shame that neither of us had a chance with her. She would have been a feisty little -" 

Killian lunged, the Darkness roaring out of him as if he was nothing but its rage. Dark shadow fell around him, flowed through him, his hands shaking in the straps before he freed himself from one of his restraints. Arthur backed away, just out of reach. 

Emma. 

The name was an endless array of emotions that made him crazy, the Darkness irritated, and part of him mourned. 

Emma, no. Not - 

Let me go, let me take a new vessel, you sniveling coward 

Die with your silly heart breaking, weakling fool! 

Emma, his Emma, if she was - he couldn’t bear the thought. 

The Darkness continued its pressure, tendrils of it exploding outward. Arthur let the machine run, doing its worst as Killian broke, Emma’s name on his lips.

"She died thinking she could save you, wanting to see you one more time. It’s your fault, but from what I’ve heard, that’s usually how this happens for you, isn’t it? Milah, Elsa, and now Emma - I know about them all. Your little princess was so worried about you when she thought she could confide in me. I wonder if she knew you would fail her like this?” Arthur laughed, Gilead clearing his throat to mumble something, his master’s head snapping to look at him. “Quiet, imbecile. Have respect for the dead." 

Let go, vessel. Give in. She no longer waits for you. 

Give me control. She’s gone, you have nothing. 

She wouldn’t want that. She would have wanted you to be strong, she loved you - the real you - not what you were when the Darkness won out - and even then she loved you, Darkness and all, despite of everything. She would have fought for you, and now you have to fight - 

She’s dead. What she would have wanted doesn’t matter anymore, she plummeted to her death because of you. You were her literal downfall, vessel. She tried to save you, but you can’t be saved. It’s better this way. I would have killed her in a much more personal manner if she had survived. 

"Poor, poor Dark One,” Arthur sneered. “I can’t wait for you to break. The Darkness damns you even after death - poor sweet Emma is lost to you forever.”

It’s better that way, vessel. This is all for the best. 

You were weak, and she died for it. It’s time to let me go, and for you to join the Darkness in eternity. 

Far off, he heard the gentle noise of her voice, calling out to him. He wouldn’t let go yet, not until he knew for certain she was gone. 

Emma. Emma. Emma. 

Emma. 

[missjosie27]

Year 3 Part 3- Access Denied

Hey, guys! Really short chapter but the future ones will be much longer. Already at work for Year 4! Nothing much to say except I hope you enjoy! Bigger things are yet to come!

‘Work’ proved to be an understatement during the month of September.

With the addition of two electives, school work suddenly became much more difficult to manage. Of the ones David took, Care of Magical Creatures turned out to be quite wild. He didn’t really have much interest in animals but having Charlie in the class certainly helped him get along (though he remained hopeful about possibly seeing a dragon). The class was run by a rather eccentric man by the name of Silvanus Kettleburn, who had been at Hogwarts since the 1940s. That longevity was evidenced by the sheer number of injuries he had sustained during his time spent with creatures which included but was not limited too- a fake prosthetic leg, an eyepatch over his left eye, and a metal claw for a hand. Though Professor Kettleburn preached safety and caution, he himself did not always live up to such standards, as he constantly was being healed by Madam Pomfrey. Case and point was the first day when he received severe burns from fire salamanders. 

“This is nothing,” Charlie told him afterwards. “Legend has it that he was ten times more energetic than this back in the day. The previous Headmaster Armando Dippet placed him on probation sixty two times!”

Such a comforting thought.

There was no immediate risk of injury in Ancient Runes though David could tell right away that the class would not be easy. Professor Octavius was an extremely competent man at his subject but deciphering and learning ancient languages, codes, and other magical artifacts was not for the faint of heart. Bill Weasley told him that it was useful for curse breaking and one of the main reasons he took it was the focus on Ancient Egypt. He would hold off making a judgement just yet. Either way, it meant more homework for all of them.

Adding on to this was his own personal popularity. As he was reminded by Rowan, any secret at Hogwarts didn’t remain one for long. As returning students recovered from the shock of the previous year, rumors spread quicker than wildfire about his involvement in the cursed ice vault. Far from being seen as mad or miniature version of his brother, most regarded him as a hero who saved the school. The Slytherins weren’t too keen on congratulating him but aside from Merula and her squad he didn’t face much trouble from them either. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but David couldn’t deny it felt good.

Combining all of these factors, and the possibility of learning more about his brother at Hogsmeade, he was becoming increasingly distracted which would later come back to bite him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two weeks before Hogsmeade, Professor McGonagall made an appearance in the Gryffindor common room to collect all the permission slips.

“All third years please line up with your written signatures from your parents. The first Hogsmeade weekend will be October 14th on Saturday,” she announced.

David, Charlie, Rowan wasted no time in dashing upstairs with Ben in tow. Even Jae seemed eager to stamp his ticket to the all wizarding village. 

“Is Hogsmeade really all it’s cracked up to be?” Ben asked. “My parents couldn’t understand the appeal, but they allowed me to go anyway.”

“Trust me, mate. You’re going to have your mind blown by how amazing Hogsmeade is,” David told him enthusiastically. He’d personally never been but his parents and brother had regaled him many times about it…before the dark times.

“Bill’s gone loads of times,” Charlie added. “Says the experience never gets old. Even as you get older.”

“Especially since it will allow me to meet with contacts a lot more,” Jae said, giving a shifty grin. No one bothered to ask him what that meant. Sometimes with Jae it was better not to know.

By the time they reached Professor McGonagall, the girls had already turned theirs in (Olivia Miller was already giggling about a new brand of nail polish). However, when David approached his head of house she frowned.

“Mr. Grant please step to one side.”

He obeyed but did not like the way she looked at him when she said. Any time Minerva McGonagall used that tone it meant nothing positive.

“I’m sorry, Grant but I cannot allow you to visit Hogsmeade.”

David picked at his ear and strained in order to ensure he heard her correctly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me, Mr. Grant.”

He began sputtering like an old worn out automobile.

“But-but…why?”

“Unfortunately, I am under specific instructions to forbid you to leave school grounds even with a permission slip.”

Instant indignation crept into his bones as he tried to resist giving a trademark sardonic remark.

“My parents, of all people, signed this slip. Now all of a sudden for no apparent reason I’m not allowed to go? How the hell is that fair?”

For a second he feared going too far with McGonagall, but thankfully she did not take away points.

“You seem to forget why you are at Hogwarts in the first place. Given your disregard for school rules, endangerment of others, and lack of self control, I have plenty of reason to prevent you from going to Hogsmeade.”

“I promised I’d meet Hagrid and meet Madam Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks,” David continued to complain. “Professor, she knows more about my brother.”

He thought a family appeal might soften her heart, but he thought wrong as the Transfiguration master held firm and her posture was as uptight as ever.

“You are demonstrating my point. Like your brother you are too focused on trivial matters as opposed to your grades and schoolwork. Do not think I haven’t noticed the slip in your marks.”

“Oh, come on, I always get top marks in your class.”

“It is not my class that the concern stems from,” Professor McGonagall huffed, and David swore he saw the steam coming out of her nostrils. “Professor Flitwick has informed me that your charm work has suffered considerably since last year. If you want to earn Hogsmeade privileges, you will need to earn them Mr. Grant. And nothing you say will change my mind until I see evidence of that fact.”

David wanted to scream, shout, stomp his foot, do anything to show he wasn’t going to take this lying down. That he was not being held to the same standard as everyone else. How many poor marks had Jae received in his time at Hogwarts. He knew that either his parents or Dumbledore was behind this. Yet, there was little choice but to take her words in stride.

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good.”

As she walked away, no one looked him in eye (Charlie began whistling), not even the older students. David began muttering under his breath before a familiar voice began chastising him.

“Grant, don’t blame McGonagall. I know she’s tough, but she also has a point.”

He saw it was Angelica Cole and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Oh boy what a shocker. The person who enforces the rules supports the person who also enforces the rules. What a coincidence.”

“I’m well versed to your quips by now,” his prefect told him. He was almost as tall as her by now yet her stern gaze did not waver. “And you need to approach this differently.”

“Don’t pretend you’re any more objective than she was,” he shot back. “I know I lose as many house points as I gain but can you not point out my every flaw for once?”

“I’m not telling you this because I want to kick you while you’re down, Grant. Do as she says: study hard, improve in charms and she will treat you fairly. You know this as well as I do.”

There was something odd about the way she was speaking to him. In the previous two years, she would have been either condescending or lecturing. But ever since the incident with Ammon Lucian and helping Blishwick defend his sister’s honor her attitude towards him had noticeably changed. 

“Why are you saying this?”

“Because I’m trying to help you. You’re more than just Jacob Grant’s little brother and you’ve shown that time and again. Now it’s time for you to show you’re also more than wisecracks and causing trouble.”

If he didn’t know better David could have sworn he saw an uptick in Angelica’s mouth as she walked away. Almost as though she were humoring him in her own unique way. He almost didn’t notice Rowan come up behind him.

“I’m sorry that happened, Dave,” he said. “In front of everyone no less.”

“It’s alright,” he said shrugging. 

“For the record I don’t agree with Professor McGonagall banning you from going to Hogsmeade. But there is a bright side to this.”

“Which is?”

“You still have a couple weeks to raise your grades in order to come with the rest of us. And I’m not going without you.”

David gave a reluctant grin. He also knew that Rowan despite his misgivings was also ensuring he met with Madam Rosmerta in order to learn more about Jacob. He was also being a good friend.

“Well then, guess we better hit the books.”

“I’ve studied in nearly one hundred places all across Hogwarts and I can safely conclude that the library is the most efficient place to improve one’s marks in a subject in two weeks’ time.”

Thinking back to what Angelica told him, David gave an affirming nod. He wasn’t going to let a minor inconvenience like a bad charms grade stop him from going to Hogsmeade. 

“Then that’s where we’re going next. Let’s go.”

[itsclydebitches]

If working with other nations is pointless since Salem is immortal then the logical endpoint of that way of thinking is surrender. You can't run forever and if you think fighting or even organizing a resistance is pointless, then there's nothing left to do but surrender. In the face of evil like Salem, banding is always better than not, even if it doesn't bring an immediate benefit.

Acknowledging that telling people has proven to be dangerous isn’t surrendering. No, banding together isn’t always better because we’ve been given ample proof that people don’t always band together. Mantle was a ridiculous fluke because the writing wanted Ruby to look good. You know what actually happens the more people you tell about Salem? The more people join her. You get those like Watts, disgruntled with the world and looking for a way to get back at it. The Hazels with revenge on their mind. The Cinders who seek power. The Emeralds and Mercurys who just don’t have anywhere else to go. We all watched what happens when even a handful of carefully vetted people learned both that Salem exists and that she’s immortal: You get the Lionhearts whose fear did so much damage a school was lost and a board’s worth of huntsman were killed. RWBY hasn’t written a story where telling others had led to anything good, so why would we believe that dumping that knowledge on an entire world would result in anything other than chaos?  

When you tell everyone, “Hey, this woman wants to kill you but you can’t kill her” they will freak. Some, like our heroes, will either remain optimistic from the start or manage to pull themselves out of that fear with some help. Most? They’ll be like Qrow and believe it’s all ultimately hopeless, sinking into despair Or they’ll join her because if you can’t win, why keep on the losing side? Because that’s the current problem: there is no way to win. We as the audience know it exists because we expect the series to end happily. Ozpin has to believe it exists because he’s cursed and can never escape from at least trying. Everyone else though? They don’t know they’re living in a web series. When someone tells them the antagonist is immortal and no one has figured out how to stop her in 1,000 years... that’s going to cause panic. The sort of panic that draws massive numbers of grimm and gains Salem more allies. Even if we believe wholeheartedly that no one would ever end up assisting her, how many people are going to lose their lives to the grimm and depression alone? Ironwood was willing to make that sacrifice because he thought a giant army could do the job. He now knows that’s not the case. 

So maybe you just don’t tell them about the immortality part... which circles right back around to the moral conflict of Volume 6. Ozpin withheld that information so he could receive some support without losing everyone to despair and he was dragged for it. If Ironwood tells the world about Salem but not her immortality than he will be doing precisely what the fandom claims Ozpin did with his students: chucking people into a fight he knows they can’t win. Sending them to their deaths. Because if someone just hears “Powerful foe” they’ll attack, and attacking, when fighting someone immortal, gets you killed. 

So how does the world help? What are they bringing to the table here? We saw Mantle learn part of the truth, everyone banding together, and that did... nothing. Seriously. Them unifying had absolutely no impact and we were starting off from the best case scenario of “Miraculously no one panicked or said ‘screw this.’” Their unification didn’t push back the grimm and it certainly didn’t suddenly give all the civilians training needed to fight them. They were still the same vulnerable people who now just... happened to know that someone named Salem exists. Even if we work under the old belief that “two heads are better than one” (something I subscribe to under other circumstances) and assume that someone out there can and will hit on a  solution, they need all the information in order to do that. They need to know about the Maidens existence---which we know canonically led to them being hunted and killed. They need to know about the relics existence---which we know canonically has led to them being stolen. Telling everyone the truth and letting everyone band together is a nice sentiment and all, but it’s a horrible way to run a war with no known end. Ironwood abandoning Mantle has nothing to do with his feelings of them vs. Atlas and everything to do with the facts of the situation: Salem is coming. Everyone will die. Atlas and some of Mantle can currently escape. If we do so we might survive. We might also keep two relics and a Maiden out of Salem’s hands. We might then be able to continue this war. 

Because you’re wrong. You can run forever. Or at the very least you can run until you come up with a way to circumvent immortality. That’s what Ozpin understood and what Ruby is beginning to understand now. Running provided time to build schools, train warriors, and keep magical artifacts far out of reach. Ruby isn’t willing to literally run right now, but she flat out told Salem that she can keep chipping away at everything surrounding her, limiting her power and her influence. Because that’s the only way you can fight against immortality until you figure out another route. You just have to keep it at bay. Telling the world so that everyone panics and provides Salem with who knows now many more allies and resources? That’s not holding anything at bay. Nor is stubbornly standing your ground to die, handing powerful objects over in the process. You need a small group of trustworthy people to lead the fight, a chosen few who know everything, keeping the world alive while looking for new solutions. Salem reminded us this volume that she has nothing but time and that’s what the heroes need to steal back. Make choices that buy you more time, in the immediate and in the future. That doesn’t happen if you throw yourself into a battle under the belief that you’ll somehow win, or tell the whole world a secret that has proven time and time again to backfire under the belief that it’ll somehow turn out for the best this time around. “Somehow” is that storybook logic. RWBY has written us a war. “Somehow” isn’t going to cut it.