#would an evil witch invite a young stranger into his home

[chubbyreaderchan]

Technically No | Jacob Black x witch!Reader | Twilight/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Crossover| 2

The weekend passed by quite quickly. Sunday was spent organizing what (Y/n) did buy on that Saturday. That Saturday was truly life changing. Jacob even called her that Sunday to see if she needed any help getting he house put together, which she took. He spent the entire afternoon chatting with her about cars then he went on to learning all about (Y/n). It was nice to have someone outside of Xander actually care about her interests. 

The Sunday night, she may have spent too long on a three way phone call with Buffy and Willow telling them all about Jacob. Then finally, Monday came. Bright and early (Y/n) woke up putting on her nicest clothes and make up to her preferred taste. She was finishing up breakfast when a knock came from the door. There stood Jacob as well as two just as tall and just as muscular young men. “Hey” Jacob spoke, looking her over almost speechless. She was just so beautiful but one of the young men playfully pushed Jacob out of his slight trance. 

“Oh, sorry. (Y/n)... These are my friends Embry and Quil...” he nodded to them each. They both shook the young witch’s hand. 

“Thank you so much for doing this... If it wasn’t my first day on the job I would have stay--” Jacob shook his head with a bright smile still on his face. “It’s fine.” “I know but young guys like you would probably prefer not hanging out at a stranger’s empty house.” She moved to allow them in. At least they weren’t vampires, she couldn’t help but thinking. “You’re welcome to anything that’s in the kitchen... It’s not much but theres like snacks and drinks...” She began walking towards the door once she took note of the time. Jacob followed her out and nodded. “It’s really not a problem... I swear.” He looked her over, eyes wondered for just a second to her neck. A cross and a pentagram nestled together on a chain. He wondered about the for a moment before looking at her face. “Seriously... Though... I was wondering... if you’d want to go to the movies. I mean as a sort of payment...” He closed the door when he heard his two idiot friends shouting at him. 

“That’s what you wanted in return?” She laughed slightly. “I mean you don’t have to.” Jacob said quickly. “I’d like that...” She said before he could retract the date. Jacob’s smile jumped right back to his lips, then she leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, again.” She trotted off to her little rental and Jacob went back into her house to wait on the delivery truck. 

--

The first day on the new job went great, only one or two hiccups but nothing to damaging. When she pulled into her drive way at 4:45 the three young men were still there now shirtless as they were helping the moving guys bring in the last few boxes into the house. What caused (Y/n) more concern is she recognized one of her boxes that Jacob was carrying. Not only was it heavier than all hell it was filled with one of her cauldrons. She rarely used because it was heavy. He held it as if it were made of paper. It reminded her of Buffy who was the one who ended up packing it in the first place.

She hopped out of the car and walked up to him with a frown on her face. He had to be magical or something not ‘normal’. 

“Isn’t that heavy?” She didn’t know what to say but she was going to have to see if any of her books would tell what he was. Jacob didn’t seem bad, however. His aura was practically made of heavenly light. There was no way he was evil.

 His dark eyes widened when she asked. “I uh... work out a lot.” His arm flexed slightly, her eyes wondered to look at how muscular he really was she felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment. “Fine. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to... but just know you can trust me with secrets.” She walked into the living room now filled with the few boxes and furniture she owned. The two boys were chatting away happily. (Y/n) pulled out her phone as Jacob placed the heavy box down on the floor. 

“I’m going to order something in... What do you guys like? My treat!” She smiled at them. 

“Awesome!” Quill held a small smile. They told her the best pizza place they knew of in Forks that delivered, despite more or less knowing La Push better. “You’re awesome!” Embry agreed once the food was ordered. Not a moment later, (Y/n) phone rang and she wondered to the kitchen for a bit of privacy when she heard Willow’s voice. 

In the other room with the three wolves, they began a conversation about Jacob’s imprint. “She said something weird.” He said in a hushed tone, sitting on the floor with his friends. “She said that she could be trusted with my secret...She caught me carrying something heavy... she’s already suspicious ” “Sam did say that you can tell your imprint.” Quill said relaxing a bit. “I know but I thought I would have more time to like... become her boyfriend first.” He sighed. “But there’s something different about her.” “So tell her sooner.” Embry offered. “Or see what Sam thinks.” Then she walked in again, still on the phone talking to Willow. “I should still have that book” She began looking at all the boxes, looking for a certain one that had three letters. MBK. Magic books for long. It was under another box. “One sec, Will.” 

‘Will?’ Jacob frowned for a second. Was she dating someone back home? No, why would she accept his date offer if that was the case. She placed her phone down on a different box to get the other box. With a key she broke the tape and began pulling out what Jacob could only consider some of the oldest looking books he had ever seen. in fact he had no clue what language any of them were in. He glanced at his pack mates who also looked very confused. She found it and continued the conversation almost forgetting the three practical strangers in her living room. She flipped through the pages. “What kind of demon again?” she said softly, looking through the book again. “Thorganath demon. Right. Sorry.” Then she sighed softly. “Yeah, no that’s one of the pages that was ripped when I bought it used.” Silence. “Oh, yeah. How’s Tara? That good, send her my love Willow. Tell Buffy I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.” She hung up and looked over at the boys still looking quite bewildered. 

“Why are you talking about demons?” Jacob spoke. He felt a bit of anxiety radiating off of his imprint. She looked wide eyed at them. “It’s... hard to explain.” “You can trust me with your secrets, (Y/n).” Jacob repeating her words from earlier. “I’ll tell you mine first...” He hated the feeling radiating off of her. This caused them both of the young wolves to look up in surprise. He was just telling them how he didn’t know what to say. Perhaps it was an imprint thing. “We can talk in the kitchen. They can grab the pizza if it gets here before we are done talking.” She simply nods, telling them where the money for it was and following Jacob back to the kitchen.

(Y/n) hopped onto the counter and he leaned against the kitchen island, trying to decide how to explain. “In my tribe we have these stories... “ he began going into the quileute legend of shapeshifts and the cold ones. “They aren’t really stories...” “You’re one.” She finished with a nod, not even remotely shaken. “Yeah, I’m a werewolf basically.” Then she started to laugh. “Oh, not technically no. Real werewolves are much more complicated.” That caused Jacob to take a second look at her. “What?” “My friend Oz is a werewolf. Like an actual light of the full moon werewolf.” Jacob actually looked shocked. Jacob sighed. “There’s another thing about us. When we shift... sometimes... we have what are called imprints.” She was smiling. Like these legends weren’t strange... as if they were comforting. “Basically it’s like soul mates... no... it’s deeper than that... Like... your whole world revolves around that person...and... I... you’re my imprint.” Now it was her turn to look shocked. She supposed soul mates or imprints rather weren’t entirely the weirdest thing. Especially from someone who grew up on top of a literal Hellmouth. In fact, it was cute.

“Well, I suppose you are pretty cute” (Y/n) smiled at him teasingly. Jacob’s grin returned to his face. “Well... now it’s your turn.” “Oh, I’m a witch.” She said simply, going into a few stories about Sunnydale, not going to into detail about each occurrence nor explaining the whole Hellmouth thing. “So, wait... are cold ones...” She paused unsure if he’d call her crazy, especially since a treaty with a vampire nest didn’t sound right. “Are they supposed to be vampires?” His eyes widened. “You’ve dealt with them too?” “Uh, yeah my friend is the slayer.” “The what?” “You know... Vampire slayer. She jabs them in the heart with pointy wooden sticks.” “That’s not how you kill a vampire. They are as hard as diamonds, only my pack can-” “That’s not any vampire I’ve ever met... They are pretty soft and burst into dust in sunlight... Or cutting off their head. Honestly, I’ve staked a few myself.” 

‘She is so cute’ Jacob caught himself thinking. “Do you want to meet one of the vampires? They live here in town. In fact Bella dates one of them!” “Are they busy?” “We are in Forks. So probably not.” Jacob laughed a bit. “Invite them over.” she paused. “Wait, can he come into a house without being invited in?” 

Jacob was very confused now. “Uh... I think so.” His thick eyebrows furrowed together as she shrugged. “Technically not vampires. I’ll call them cold ones though.” Her smile was triumphant. What did she win exactly? Their first argument? Maybe. She moved to Jacob’s side again, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Introduce me to them.” “Maybe later. They aren’t exactly friendly with any other wolves... in fact Edward probably still hates me.” He ran his fingers across his neck. Then he smelled pizza. He lead them back into the living room where they began to eat dinner. “Actually, I’d rather you meet Sam and the rest of pack before you meet vampires.” “They aren’t vampires.” 

“So you guys are shapeshifters hm?” 

-- 

The relationship with (Y/n) and Jacob got stronger even within just a week of living in Forks. Jacob would come over after she got off work and help her unpack, slowly learning about how much darker the monsters were. 

It was almost instant when she called scoobies to explain, though she had a feeling she would be in trouble later but how could she keep something so insane from them? The movie date that Saturday turned into going to meet the pack quite quickly, since that seemed to interest (Y/n) more than seeing anything that was playing. Plus Jacob was asked to patrol that night since he had missed the entire week of patrol. He was glad Sam allowed it, though. They currently sat in front of the small house in Jacob’s truck. (Y/n) was ready to go but Jacob stopped her. “Just... don’t stare at Emily. Sam hates that.” “Why would I?” Jacob sighed softly. “You’ll see.” 

“So... when am I going to see your wolf form?” She asked as they began walking towards the door. “Tonight. I’ll let you see... When do I get to see magic?” he half joked. Then she frowned a bit. “When there is something dangerous going on... Magic... is dangerous.” She said as she walked into the house with Jacob holding the door open. “Hey, Jacob!” A woman a bit older said with a bright smile and a large scar along her face. “Is this her?” “The witch?” A young man said with a joking voice. “(Y/n)...” He introduced. “This is Emily. That’s Seth.” He looked to still be in high school, doing homework on the table. “Wheres...?” “They are on the way back.” Almost on queue, five very large men and one young woman walk in talking excitedly about how they were hungry. How the patrol was fun and so on. The oldest looking one walked over to Emily and placed a kiss on her lips. “Is this the witchy girl?” one said jokingly. “Yeah, ‘witches’. Probably just a weird goth chick.” 

“That’s Jared... and Paul. Sam is over there. Then you know Quil and Embry. That’s Leah.” Jacob nodded to the girl, after introducing the pack. “Ignore Paul. He’s got an attitude problem.” “Can’t be any worse than Spike.” 

“Who?” “Oh, vampire. Completely harmless. Has a chip in his head. Can’t hurt people if he wanted” she said casually, with a wave of a hand. “Oh, great. Another vampire lover, Jacob.” Paul huffed out grabbing a muffin that Emily had just placed on the table. “Oh ick no.” She shook her head. “No, he’s just a necessary evil... Unfortunately.” Jacob moved and grabbed a muffin for him self and handed one to his imprint. Paul and Sam seemed to give her both a confused look. “A chip?” Sam asked suddenly. “Oh, it’s nice to meet you.” He corrected the slightly rude behavior. He wanted to make sure he was a good influence on his fairly young pack. 

“Yep. Government issued.” She shrugged. That made them all look at her in confusion. “You have to be making this up.” Seth said, seemingly by mistake. She sighed. “Fine. Can I borrow the pencil?” She sat next to him getting annoyed. Why wouldn’t a pack of literal wolves believe her? A little small time magic shouldn’t do too much to corrupt her, right? The spell was learned with Willow in high school. It was no big deal. 

Her eyes focused on the pencil she took and laid down. Slowly it floated up and began turning slowly in the air. “All about emotional control” She quoted something that Willow once said to her and Buffy forever ago. It was silent as they watched the simple trick, that was until Seth said “Woah, that’s insane.” This unfortunately caused (Y/n) to jump in surprise and the pencil flew into the wall across the way getting stuck. 

“Oh no! I am so sorry, Emily.” She hopped up and rushed to pull the pencil out of the wall. “I can fix that!” Her hand ran over the hole and then it was gone. “Can you do anything useful?” Paul said sarcastically. “I mean when hunting vampires, floating a wooden pointy thing is pretty useful.” “That’s not how you kill a vampire. That’s a book thing.” Paul seemed annoyed. “No, no it’s not. It’s just your cold ones are calling themselves vampires without knowing what a real vampire is.” Sam sat down with Emily both interested in whatever (Y/n) had to say. Everything she spoke of was completely off of what their legends and experiences have showed them. Witches seemed real, that’s entirely possible in Sam’s mind since it was a form of magic that turned the pack into wolves. 

“She’s told me some crazy sounding things.” Jacob sat next to his imprint, in a way that he was able to touch her thigh with his own. His hand move to gently touch her’s under the table. “I’ll introduce you guys to the slayer. If the monsters could chill out by the time fall break happens for her of course. The scoobies should be coming out. Then you can meet some real powerful witches.” Her smile was bright as if this was completely normal.

“Slayer?” Sam asked looking her over. “Oh, right. You guys don’t know about that. Okay, so there’s this thing called the slayer. She is born with the power to kill all kinds of dark things but mainly vampires. A new one is activated every time the last one dies.” She explained more on the legend a bit. They were still very skeptical of (Y/n)’s vampire experiences however. 

“Have you even met the Cullens yet?” Leah asked confused. “No, but I’d be interested in meeting them.” “It’s dangerous.” Sam said calmly as Emily began serving dinner to the large group. “I mean... I went to high school on top of a literal hellmouth. Can’t be that dangerous...” “What’s that?” Seth asked taking a bit of his food. “It’s like... evil shooting out of hell.” 

Then her phone rang. Buffy flashed on the screen. “Sorry, I gotta take this.” 

"Do you still have that rare book on ancient artifacts?” “Used in rituals... yeah?” “Can you mail it?”

“Of course I can. Just send it back in one piece. Don’t let Xander speak latin to it. I can send it Monday after work.” “Thanks... so uh... are you still hanging out with that Jacob guy?” “Yeah... kinda am.. right now.” 

“Oh, sorry. Thanks. I might have to call you again later.” 

-- 

Dinner went well, surprisingly. Perhaps it was an ‘imprinted to a wolf in their pack’ thing but it really felt like she belonged in the group of La Push boys. “Don’t worry, (Y/n) I won’t keep him out long. I’ll send him to take you home in a couple hours.” Sam said with a gentle smile as they walked out to see the boys off. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’d like to get to know Emily.” She smiled at Emily who was watching from the door. The boys wondered to the tree line, Jacob had explained it was easier to transform naked than to go through a million shorts a day. 

Sam smiled to her again before following the others in. Then a large brown wolf walks out from the tree line. His eyes were large and brown. “So that’s what you look like as a wolf, Jacob.” Jacob couldn’t help but think about how smart she was, getting him a bit of teasing from his pack mates. Jacob slowly walked forward and her hand reached out, gently ran her fingers through the long fur. Then she paused. “It’s kind of weird to pet your head isn’t it? I mean imagine if I walked up to you in your human form and just... patted your head.” A noise came from him. A laugh perhaps? She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his muzzle. “Stay safe. Let me know if you need any help.” She waved as he ran off to join his pack. 

This was going to be fun to explain to the Scoobies.

[tomionefinds]

Hello there ! Your blog is a gold mine. Do you have any fic with a good political plot ? Where we can really Tom’s rise to power ? Thanks xx

Hey Anon,

Sorry for the late reply. Special thanks to the discord group for helping me find a bunch for you. -JD

Politicians by LadyMiya

E/Ma | Complete | 25k

You would have thought that Hermione Granger, a major in Political Science, would know better than invite a stranger from a pub home. But then, she would never be a true politician if she did.

Choosing Grey by betagyre Also it’s sequel: A Marked Deck

M | Complete | 124k

Hermione has always been a warrior for the Light. But when an attempt to salvage more than a Pyrrhic victory lands her in 1944, she quickly realizes that sometimes it is best to allow a lesser evil to flourish, because defeating it only creates the conditions for a greater one to rise. With conspiracies, schemes, and difficult choices in every corner, and a charismatic young Tom Riddle who is increasingly interested in her, she will eventually have to answer the question: How much darkness and grey in him can she accept?

The Power Vacuum Conundrum by Spork_in_the_Road

M | WIP | 32k

Hermione Granger goes back in time, not to save the future Dark Lord's soul, and not kill him. Instead, she figures she'll offer him some competition for the role of World Leader. She knows that when Grindelwald falls, there will be room for a new player on the field. At least this way, Hermione knows she's the lesser of two evils.NOTE: UNDERGOING A BIG RE-WRITE

The Pursuit of Happiness by nimbus2003

M | WIP | 7k

Senator Riddle (Republican, NY) has a problem. People think that he’s stern, unyielding, and incapable of compromise. Congresswoman Granger (Democrat, CA) is struggling to gain the respect of the party establishment, which views her as a progressive upstart. Fortunately for the two of them, there’s a simple solution: date.

The Pendulum of the Mind by AvaJune

M | WIP | 118k

Tom's fingers slid across her skin as he pulled up her sleeve, feeling irregular bumps and scarring as he watched in fascination as instead of a dark mark, he steadily revealed rune carvings. His eyes flicked back to hers, watching her reaction to his touch.

"I will give you this, witch. You are unbearably intriguing," he murmured.

Madness flies in the face of logic, and if there is one thing Hermione Granger cannot abide, it's things that defy logic. There is always something against her, this time the very laws of time and space. There is, however, a truth she now knows about herself; she isn't quite the rule girl she once thought she was. *Hermione - Tom Riddle. AU, Post Battle of Hogwarts*

Strange Attractors by Mistakes_and_Experiments, Orange et Blue Morality (Mistakes_and_Experiments)

M | WIP | 532k

Unspeakable Granger wakes up with missing memories in Hogwarts...in 1942. Hermione might not remember much, but she knew that even post-Voldemort, there were many wannabe dark lords she and her friends had to fight against. The world wasn't automatically sunshine and roses just because they've defeated Voldemort.

[goldenavenger02]

Susz's Halloween Recommendations Part 1: Movies, specials and TV shows.

Movies/specials

Girl Vs. Monster (2012)

Skylar, a teenage girl who discovers on Halloween she's a fifth generation monster hunter. When Skylar accidentally releases some monsters from a containment chamber she must recapture them before they wreak vengeance on her parents.

Notes: I've been watching this since it came out and it's always been a favorite of mine! Has a great message about facing your fears and not letting them control you with the backdrop of monster hunting!

Halloweentown (1998)

When a young girl living with her good-witch grandmother learns she too is a witch, she must help her grandmother save Halloweentown from evil forces.

Notes: I watched this for the first time last year, and I was pleasantly surprised even as an 18 year old!

Hocus Pocus (1993)

A curious youngster moves to Salem, where he struggles to fit in before awakening a trio of diabolical witches that were executed in the 17th century.

Notes: another movie I watched last year, and so surprisingly dark for Disney, especially in the 90s.

The Haunted Mansion (2003)

A realtor and his wife and children are summoned to a mansion, which they soon discover is haunted, and while they attempt to escape, he learns an important lesson about the family he has neglected.

Notes: Eddie Murphy trying to keep his family safe in this haunted house? It's one of my favorites!

Scooby Doo (2002)

The Mystery Inc. gang have gone their separate ways and have been apart for two years, until they each receive an invitation to Spooky Island. Not knowing that the others have also been invited, they show up and discover an amusement park that affects young visitors in very strange ways. Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy and Scooby soon realize that they cannot solve this mystery without help from each other.

Notes: this is a childhood movie of mine, and the sequel is so good as well. Definitely a good mix of spooky and fun!

Scooby Doo: The Mystery Begins (2009)

A made for TV movie about the origins of the Mystery Incorporated gang.

Notes: a high school/Disney Channel style movie with horror elements starring Robbie Ammel and Hayley Kiyoko. This one is one I've been watching since it came out and it's one of my favorites.

Coraline (2009)

An adventurous 11-year-old girl finds another world that is a strangely idealized version of her frustrating home, but it has sinister secrets.

Notes: watched this one last year and I absolutely adore it! It's so terrifying and I highly recommend.

The Boy (2016)

An American nanny is shocked that her new English family's boy is actually a life-sized doll. After she violates a list of strict rules, disturbing events make her believe that the doll is really alive.

Notes: the movie is suspenseful the whole time, and the last 15 minutes are absolutely horrifying.

Flashback (2020)

After a chance encounter with a man forgotten from his youth, Fred literally and metaphorically journeys into his past.

Notes: I watched this psychological thriller a few months ago and it has it's scary elements, but it's really interesting to see the main character descend into madness and obsession due to something in his personal life.

Edge of Winter (2016)

When two brothers are stranded by a brutal winter storm with an unpredictable father they barely know, the boys begin to suspect their supposed protector may be their biggest threat.

Notes: pretty sure this movie was filmed around the same time Captain America: Civil War, so it's very young Tom Holland, but this is a movie he is so good in. Definitely makes you wonder just how far parents are willing to go.

Hubie Halloween (2020)

Despite his devotion to his hometown of Salem (and its Halloween celebration), Hubie Dubois is a figure of mockery for kids and adults alike. But this year, something is going bump in the night, and it's up to Hubie to save Halloween.

Notes: Don't take this one seriously and you're more likely to enjoy it. Definitely more of a comedy than anything scary. Adam Sandler is very polarizing but I enjoyed this.

Hotel Transylvania (2012)

Dracula, who operates a high-end resort away from the human world, goes into overprotective mode when a boy discovers the resort and falls for the count's teenaged daughter.

Notes: a family Halloween movie that really is just a fun time.

Ninjago: Day of the Departed (2016)

On the Ninjago holiday: Day of the Departed, the ninja remeber those who have departed.

Notes: Takes place in between season 6 and 7 and really explores grief as well as the concept of being forgotten. Obviously you have to watch the seasons before to understand this, but it's really interesting to watch for sure.

My Friend Dahmer (2017)

Jeffrey Dahmer murdered 17 men and boys in the Midwest United States between 1978 and 1991 before being captured and incarcerated. He would become one of America's most infamous serial killers. This is the story before that story.

Notes: a fascinating look into an infamous serial killer, both parts fiction and non fiction and suspenseful the whole time.

TV shows

Teen Wolf (2011-2017)

Scott becomes the eponymous teenage werewolf of the series after he is bitten by an alpha werewolf the night before his second year of high school, drastically changing his once-ordinary life.

Notes: one of my absolute favorite TV shows, and perfect for the Halloween season! Especially since the movie is coming out next year!

Only Murders in the Building (2021-)

Only Murders in the Building follows three strangers, played by Steve Martin, Martin Short and Selena Gomez, who share an obsession with a true crime podcast. After a murder in their building, the three neighbors decide to start their own show that covers their investigation of the murder.

Notes: Already fantastic and season 1 is still coming out on Hulu! The blend of comedy and horror is always one of my favorites!

Cruel Summer (2021-)

The series follows two teenage girls in the 1990s and the repercussions on everyone's lives after one disappears and the other seemingly takes her place.

Notes: this has huge triggers for domestic violence, grooming and sexual assault. If you're not triggered by that, I HIGHLY recommend this, and I'm so excited for season 2! It also has some great LGBT+ rep!

Nancy Drew (2019-)

Nancy Drew (Kennedy McMann) is a brilliant teenaged detective whose sense of self had come from solving mysteries in her hometown of Horseshoe Bay, Maine – until her mother’s untimely death derails Nancy’s college plans.

Notes: I've been watching this since it came out and season 3 is about to start airing! The first season is so wonderful and full of twists and turns (season 2 isn't as good, but it's the CW) and I highly recommend!

Ninjago Season 5, Possession (2015)

The spirit of the evil Morro is released from the cursed realm and the Ninjas have to unite in the battle against an evil foe.

Notes: one of my favorite seasons of the show, and definitely one of the darkest ones! Deals with grief, depression and high expectations and it's so good!

Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated (2010-2013)

Scooby-Doo and the gang attempt to solve creepy mysteries in the town of Crystal Cove, a place with a history of eerie supernatural events.

Notes: this starts off similar to the original Scooby Doo show from the early 70's, but as the overarching plot gets deeper and deeper, you really spend your time just wondering "what the heck is going on".

I'm not going to put specific episodes of TV shows on here, because that'll get daunting, but part 2 is books and fics!

[am0re-in-polvere]

Circe ranks as one of the greatest witches of mythology. A beautiful enchantress - she likes nothing better than to turn men into pigs. (Some have seen her as a bit of a feminist). It is only when the wily Odysseus lands on her island that she finally meets her match.

He and his men sailed on across the wine dark sea, until once again they caught sight of an island. They slipped their boat into a snug little harbour, and there they slept for two whole days.

The following morning, Odysseus said they should explore the island and discover who lived there. At these words, his men grew afraid. They remembered the terrible Cyclops who had kept them prisoner in his cave, and had devoured some of their companions.

Odysseus divided his men into two groups, so that if one should get into trouble, the other could come and help. He was leader of one group, and Lord Eurylochus (Yuri-Locus) was the leader of the other. They drew straws to see which group should go and explore first, and as Eurylochus drew the short straw, he and his men had to set out and explore the woods.

After walking two or three hours, the men came to a clearing. They saw a little house surrounded by wild beasts – wolves, leopards, and lions. One of the leopards sprang towards Eurylochus. He thought that he was about to die, but instead of eating him, the leopard rubbed up against him like a cat and purred.

The window of the house was open, and inside a woman was singing. Her voice was mysterious but very beautiful, and the men felt themselves being drawn towards the house, for they all longed to see if the woman was as wonderful as her voice. They walked past the fierce looking beasts, who in fact were really quite tame. Inside they were greeted by a tall and elegant woman, her black hair done up in braids – she did indeed look very lovely.

Her name was Circe and she invited the men to sit down at her table and drink some of her soup – they readily agreed.

As they drank the soup, Eurylochus said: “When I drew the short straw I cursed my bad luck, but how wrong I was! Our hostess is not so terrible after all, eh men?”

They did not realise that though she was beautiful, Circe was in fact a witch. She had slipped a magic potion into their soup, and when they had finished drinking it, she rapped the table with a magic wand and said: “Now you swine, be off to the pigsty where you belong.”

The men looked up astonished. “Madam – Did you just call us pigs?” asked Eurylochus. But Circe just laughed in reply, for the nose of Eurylochus was already growing into a pink snout, and his hands were becoming hairy trotters. In fact, all his men were swiftly turning into pigs. They tried to weep and cry out, but all they could do was to snort and squeal.

“Now do as I say,” cried Circe. “Pigs belong in the sty, not in my kitchen. Be off with you!” And off they trotted to their new home.

When the men did not return to the ship, Odysseus grew worried, and he decided to go and search for them. He set out across the island in the direction of the smoke he had seen from the cottage. While he was walking through the woods, he met a young man – more of a boy, whose beard was still soft and downy on his face.

“Stranger, what are you doing here?” asked the young man.

“I’m going in search of my men who are lost,” said Odysseus.

“No doubt they are guests of the lovely Circe. You won’t find them in her house, but outside in the pigsty. Beautiful though she is, she is really a witch and she turns men into beasts. If you step inside her house, she will turn you into a pig too.”

“My men – turned into pigs!” exclaimed Odysseus. “Is this how you treat guests on this island?”

The young man did not reply, but took a small plant out of his knapsack and handed it to Odysseus. Its stem was black and its flower was as white as milk. “Eat this,” he said. “It will make you safe against all magic tricks and potions. The name of this plant is molly. It is dangerous for mere mortals to pluck, for only gods can take it out of the ground safely.”

When he spoke these words, Odysseus realised that this was no ordinary young man, but Hermes the messenger of the gods. He ate the molly plant and went on his way.

Soon he came to the house in the woods that was guarded by wild beasts. Circe’s lovely singing voice drifted out through the window, and Odysseus walked boldly past the beasts and into the house. Inside he was greeted by the beautiful witch, who told him to sit down and try some of her soup. While she was heating it, she slipped some magic potion into the broth, for she intended to turn Odysseus into a pig like the others. She gave the soup to him, he drank it all down, and then she took out her wand and rapped the table with it.

“Now be off with you to the sty, pig-face,” she cried.

Odysseus did not turn into a pig, but instead leapt to his feet, drew his sword and rushed at Circe. She, terrified, let out a shriek and fell to his feet begging for mercy.

“Please great Lord – do not take such offence. It was just my strange sense of humour. It comes from living alone for so long, here in the woods with nothing but wild beasts for company. It is many years since I have seen a strong brave man like you. Come, let me kiss you…”

Odysseus let the beautiful witch kiss him, but all the time he was watching to see that she did not try any more of her tricks. She called her servant girls and commanded them to prepare a bath for their visitor. They brought hot and cold water and mixed the bath until it was just right. When Odysseus had bathed and rested, he found that they had prepared a delicious meal for him.

“Come, why do you look so sad?” asked Circe. “Let us eat together and wash the food down with honeyed wine.”

“How can a leader eat,” asked Odysseus, “when he knows that his companions are living outside in the muddy pigsty?”

When he spoke these words, Circe knew that there was no use pretending any longer that she was anything other than a witch. She went out to the pigsty and rubbed a magic ointment onto the animals. Then she waved her wand and they began to change back into men, only younger and better looking than they were before. They began to weep, for what they had been through was truly terrible.

When they had recovered, Odysseus went back to the ship to fetch the rest of his men. They were all united at Circe’s house and sat down to a wonderful feast of celebration.

The Greeks stayed with the witch Circe for an entire month – and she didn’t try any more of her magic tricks on them. One morning Odysseus spoke to her: “Oh beautiful enchantress – too long have we enjoyed your hospitality. We must continue our journey to our home on the rocky island of Ithaca, but unfortunately we are completely lost. We do not know these seas. Can you direct us by the safest route?”

Circe replied: “Lord Odysseus, if it were up to me, I would keep you here always – but I understand that you must be on your way to your home and your lovely wife, Queen Penelope. There is no safe route for you and your men to return home; for when you leave here, you must pass through a narrow passage between the rocks of Scylla and the whirlpool of Charybdis. Both are perilous – for Scylla is a many armed monster who yelps like a dog. If you sail close to her cliffs, she will reach down and grab some of your men and shove them into her mouth. But if you sail too close to the whirlpool of Charybdis, your entire boat will be sunk down to the bottom of the sea and all of you will drown. It is a terrible choice to make but you are a leader – so plot your course as you see best. Next, if the gods permit you to pass through that dire strait, you will come to the island of the Sun where the great Sun God, Lord Apollo, keeps his herd of sacred cows. Do as I say – steer clear of the island and do not land there. Nothing and nobody escapes the eyes of Apollo as he looks down from the sky. If you value your lives, avoid his island!”

So Odysseus and his men said farewell to the lovely Circe and sailed on their way. After three days, just as she had foretold, they reached the narrow passage that she had described. Up on the cliffs they could hear the monster Scylla, yelping like a dog that has been left tied up for too long. As they drew nearer, they could hear the terrible gurgling sound of the whirlpool, Charybdis.

“This is indeed a terrible choice”, thought Odysseus, “but is it a lesser evil to lose some of my men, than for all of us to drown? I must therefore chart my course closer to the cliffs than the whirlpool.”

He did not tell his men about Scylla, in case they lost heart and put down their oars. All his men’s eyes were on the dreadful whirlpool, gurgling like a cauldron. The men rowed as hard they could, but as they passed beneath Scylla, she reached down to the ship. Odysseus fought her with his spear, desperately trying to stab at her arms, but he could not prevent her from snatching up six of his men. The others rowed on, crying for their companions.

Once they passed through the strait, they saw the island of the Sun, just as Circe had predicted.

“Thank heavens for land!” cried the men. Odysseus tried to tell them it was no good. They must not land, but sail on – for Circe had warned him of terrible danger should they set foot on the island belonging to the great Sun God, Lord Apollo.

“Are you a slave driver?” cried out Lord Eurylochus. “In your rush to reach home, you deny us all rest. We are still grieving for our six lost companions. You cannot order us to sail on. We will surely die of sadness and exhaustion.”

Seeing that the men meant rebellion, Odysseus allowed the ship to land with great misgiving in his heart. They found that the island was covered in green fields, and that fat cattle were grazing. The men waited for Odysseus to fall asleep and then killed two cows and ate roast meat on the beach. When the sun rose in the morning, bright Apollo saw what they had done, and said to Zeus, who is Lord of all the gods:

“Great Lord – I am wronged. Those rascals and ruffians who crew the ship of that tricky Greek, Odysseus, have killed the sacred cattle that bring joy to my heart. If you will not punish them, I shall go down to the land of the dead and light up the gloomy underworld. No more shall I shine in the skies above the world.”

When Zeus heard these words he replied: “It is indeed a crime to take what rightly belongs the gods. When these men set sail tomorrow, I shall hit their boat with a burning thunderbolt.”

The next day, Odysseus told his men to set sail. When they were out at sea, the sun disappeared behind a black cloud. The dark skies filled with lightening and an electric flash shot down from the hand of Lord Zeus and hit their boat, ripping it into two. All the men fell into the raging sea. Odysseus clung for his life to the broken mast of the ship, and somehow survived the storm. The sun shone once again on the now calm waters, and Odysseus saw land. Using his last strength, he swam into the shore and staggered onto the beach, where he fell down, exhausted.

[prorevenge]

Abusive mom is ruined and wanted

It's a rough story to start, so I'll just go chronologically.

The first exmaple of how evil she was my older brother told me. Back when I was really young, my dad was in the Army and managed to score some leave (vacation time) from Desert Storm to surprise my mom for her anniversary. When he knocked on the door, all my mom said was "Why aren't you dead, I need the money." Her new beau then started backing out of the garage in my dad's mustang cobra.

He got revenge, but that's a story for later if you guys want.

The divorce was pretty much what you expect, mom got custody of me. My dad later tricked her with some money and got me for a visit, then filed for custody since my mom had warrants out for her arrest.

A few years later my dad remarried to your typical evil stepmother who doted on her daughters and hates her stepson. For example, for Easter my step sisters got huge baskets of candy and chocolates, a couple toys, etc. I got an old soup can with my name painted on it (poorly) that "I could use for pencils."

This witch managed to talk my dad into sending back to my mom, and here the story begins in earnest.

Where my mom was living was an old two bedroom, one bath house. My sister's shared one room, my mom and stepdad shared the other, my brother got the whole basement, and I got a "room" so small that I could touch fingertip to fingertip each wall, and it was double that long. I had a curtain instead of a door.

I got nothing. I hated life there. I was one of only a few white kids at school, so I got beat up alot for being white, it was low income area in Michigan, so I was the one who always had to shovel, rake, mow, and then my mom would "rent me out" to the neighbors, and they all just paid her. I did all the chores and was "grounded until she felt like ungrounding me." I basically sat on my bed for six years anytime I was not in school, cleaning, or making her money.

I learned this later, but my mom was "extorting" money from my dad. She would demand $3000 for a school photo, and he willingly paid $700 a month in child support, even though there was no need to. (He worked in the oil field business after he retired, on a corporate board). She would make stuff up like "Our car broke, etc" and demand money. My dad had to fork over $12,000 for me to go visit him for a week. He couldn't take me in at the time, he wasn't home enough (lots of travel) and he was single, but I found out he was sending me Christmas and birthday gifts every year, and I later found out from my brother she pawned them all. He bought me a brand new Color Gameboy, which was promptly taken away because "I was grounded." She pawned that too. She would often hit me for stupid reasons, like when I once put the dishes away a bit damp or if I managed to get a chocolate milk from the school cafeteria. Once I got fed up and pushed her, she called he police and he chided me.

In short, it was hell.

Meanwhile my sister's got upgraded to a private school and lots of amazing toys. She took custody of my grandfather who had MS from the waist down and couldn't even use the bathroom by himself. She got power of attorney and took all his money and blew it, as well as taking half his pain meds (like Vicodin) and giving them to my brother to sell. This will be important later, kinda.

Now the revenge part. This is going to be a bit long, so I apologize in advance.

In my junior year of high school, I got to working in the library. My teachers were amazing and supportive, and knew my situation. I got my dad's email, and we started planning. He figured once I finished high school, he would personally come up and get me. Finally when my mom decided to have a "graduation party" for me, complete with inviting all her friends and none of the like, two people I could call a friend, a couple days before my graduation ceremony. About two hours before the party was going start, my dad pulls up. I invite him in, and he looks around, looks confused. He leans in and asks me "Where is she?" I point. She was right in front of him lying on the couch. He screwed up his face, and said he'd wait in the car.

While I was gathering all my stuff in a single garbage bag, my mom finally realized who this stranger was, and lost her shit. She tried everything from bribing me with Nascar tickets (I hate Nascar, she liked it but I knew she didn't have any) to physically obstructing me. She had pulled out all the stops for this party, spending a couple thousand and lots of time cooking, err making me cook. I get outside, throw my stuff in the truck, and we take off.

(Side story. We get halfway down the street and my dad has to pull over. He laughs uncontrollably for awhile. I asked his what's up, and in his Texan accent says "Boy, when I was a kid I always wanted to marry a movie star. I just didn't think it be Jabba the Hutt." Evidently they didn't recognize each other at first, she put on ALOT of weight after they divorced.)

We get to his place, and it starts. I get updates from my sister in law. The party was f*****d. She was humiliated. Since she didn't have me, my dad stopped sending money. They had months worth of unpayable bills. She had to pawn her jewelry, pull my sister's out of the private school and back into public school, sell one of the cars she had. Soon she started calling for money claiming someone stole the mail all the time so they couldn't pay their bills and needed money to replace the mailbox so they wouldn't steal it anymore.

It was refreshing knowing I was free, and I could say no with no repercussions. I was happy to live and let live. I vowed to leave her be and let her sink or swim by her own hand. I was elated to be free, and had no desire to look back at that part of my life.

But she wasn't done with me.

I decided to follow my dad's example and join the service. I decided the Navy was the place for me. My job required a top secret clearance, so they do a very thorough background check, to include a credit check. Turns out I was delinquent in mortgage payments, I was receiving social security, and I owed a power company alot of money among other credit card debts. That b****** stole my identity and ran me into debt since she couldn't get anymore money. I knew about identity theft, it just never occurred to me that a parent has everything they need to do so.

This couldn't stand. After I finished basic training and my technical school, I spoke to my Chief (supervisor). Chief was awesome. She managed to wrangle me a "temporary assignment" to a recruiting station in my old town where my mom lived so the Navy would buy my plane tickets. I spoke to the police and filed a report. One by one I managed to clear most of the debts from me and send all the debt collectors after her.

Then I made a visit to the social security office. I was in uniform at the time, and spoke to a clerk about how I was somehow getting payments when I never got anything. She looks up the account, and boom. My mom was here. She claimed I was permanently mangled and disabled in an accident and I was physically unable to sign, giving her permission to cash my checks. The clerk read that last part out slower as it dawned on her that I was clearly more than able. She opened a case. For the monolithic bureaucracy that was the government, they move pretty fast when someone's stealing money from THEM.

Turns out when they went to investigate, she had already skipped town. They issued warrants for her arrest and she is on the run.

I got cut a check for $20,000, the amount that was garnished from my wages for what she stole from the social security administration, and she now owes that much to Uncle Sam.

So this was ten years ago.

So evidently my brother found out that not only am I doing great, I am very successful. I recently left the service and I am starting an even more exciting job. So he told Mom, and she came crawling out of the woodworks via Facebook for money for a "doctor", but I told her prison gives free medical care, and it felt good. Turns out when my aunts (her sisters who lived in another state) found out about how she treated me, she was cut out of everyone's will, to include my grandmother. Unfortunately we didn't get to my grandfather before she cashed in on him.

So heavily in debt, with no family to turn to, no way to get a job, with fraud on her record as well as selling prescription medication, and warrants out for her arrest, my mother, Jabba the Hutt, is receiving hers.

I got cut a check for $20,000, the amount that was garnished from my wages for what she stole from the social security administration, and she now owes that much to Uncle Sam.

Sorry if this is the wrong sub, but I thought I'd share.

(source) story by (/u/Admiral_Bismarck)

[so-langdon]

Inevitable - Michael Langdon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Y/N is the only one who refuses to believe Michael’s changing for the better after accepting Cordelia’s offer to join her and the coven. Her being the only one who won’t give him attention then, sparks a desire in Michael for her.

Warnings: Dominant! Michael, sexual tension, swearing, rough play, rough smut (spanking, choking, hair-pulling), swearing, dirty talk

A/N: Thank you for reading this if you do! <33 I hope it’s not too cringe, still trying to master the writing of smut loll.

Tagged: @rocketgirl2410 

Never before had Y/N felt such disapproval and repulsion from a choice of her Supreme Cordelia, until now. Cordelia was usually so wise, so insightful and so intelligent in her decisions and plans. 

This seemed to go out the window as she clearly fell for Michael Langdon’s sad boy act. Actually offering to bring this epitome of evil into the very place where he could annihilate any and all of the witches in an instant if he wanted. Cordelia was a fool for inviting Michael to their home to find his so called “humanity,” as if the son of satan actually had an ounce of empathy or compassion in him. 

Y/N had been at Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies for a few years, coming further along the fastest than any of Cordelia’s students before. She was still in the process of learning and expanding her powers, but she definitely had a higher position at the school alongside with Zoe and Queenie, other members of Cordelia’s counsel.

Zoe and Queenie supported Cordelia in her proposal to have Michael join their coven. It completely threw Y/N off guard, as she couldn’t believe that some of the smartest women in her life were behaving so foolishly and dumb. The level of stupidity they seemed to be exhibiting needed to be studied. 

“He’s the antichrist for goodness sake’s, and you’re practically giving him permission to kill us all in our sleep! He’s going to destroy all of us when we least expect it. We can not be this imprudent!” Y/N argued everyone as the discussion took place for Michael to come to the coven.  “There’s humanity in him,” Cordelia defends. “If he joins us, maybe we can find it.” “Key word being, ‘maybe.’ Cordelia, you know I respect and support everything you do, but this is unbelievably reckless and idiotic. He’s the antichrist. Have you forgotten this?” Y/N threw her hands in the air, trying to make sense of the situation that was actually happening.  “Everyone deserves a second chance,” Cordelia faintly smiles.  “Cordelia’s right,” Zoe interjects. “Maybe we can stop Cordelia’s visions of the world’s end through this.” Y/N shook her head, finding everything they said absurd. Looking at Queenie for some backup hopefully, even Queenie agreed. “I trust Cordelia. We want the evil right under our nose so we can keep watch, right?”

Since being overruled, Y/N has remained respectful though quiet of Cordelia’s decision, but deep down remained on edge, cautious and completely disappointed in her Supreme. There was no way this Michael Langdon could change for the better due to some TLC. 

The day Michael showed at the school, Cordelia introduced him to the witches in a house meeting, as if he were a new student, and explained to everyone the situation that there is always hope, even in the face of evil. 

Everyone stood or sat around in the room, listening to Cordelia carefully as she spoke and smiled over Michael’s presence. The girl’s followed in suit, crowding around him in an effort to make him feel welcome. But Y/N stayed back with Myrtle, who seemed to be her only ally. 

“You don’t really think this is a good idea, do you,” Y/N asked Myrtle with crossed arms. “You know this is stupid, right?” Myrtle sucked in a breath after removing her lips from the cigarette she held. “We may not understand her logic, but Delia has always had a way of knowing where her choices lead her and the coven. She didn’t become the Supreme for her recklessness.” “She may not be Supreme for long if this antichrist actually lives under our roof.” “Bite your tongue, darling,” the soft-spoken woman pointed to Y/N. “We need to trust in her. Don’t be a hater, dear,” she added, walking forward to greet with the boy. 

Remaining impassive and unmoved, Y/N stood in the back of the room, watching the girls surround Michael as he timidly smiled and talked to his new “family.” She studied him carefully, overlooking him with narrowed eyes.

Michael stood around in his old Hawthorne’s suit and tie, soft blond locks flowing around his head just above his shoulders. She could see the piercing blue eyes from where she stood, seeing as they flickered around at each new face, looking to be overwhelmed and hesitant as he met everyone.

She hadn’t gone with Cordelia, Zoe and Myrtle to the Hawthorne school when the meeting over the Seven Wonders was requested. She stayed to overrun and overlook the coven while they were gone.

Seeing this Michael Langdon for the first time had her stomach tossing and turning, from disgust she assumed, knowing there would be no way any other feeling would result in her. 

She couldn’t deny the boy was fit, standing tall and lean, a hidden confidence showing from him. But his looks weren’t going to distract or have her giving him sympathy like it had to Cordelia, and now, everyone else. If everyone else was going to fall for this sad boy act, so be it. But she wasn’t going to be one of them.

~~~

The first few days with Michael’s newly presence had Y/N weary and suspicious, but acting as she would otherwise. Teaching her classes (which Michael now attended), going over incantations, spells, offering tips and bits of advice to the girls. She simply just acted like Michael wasn’t there.

She was aware of his presence, of course always keeping a subtle eye on him to make sure he wasn’t going to suddenly expose his ulterior motives that she knew he had to have. But at the same time, ignored him completely. 

As if it mattered anyway. 

Michael was no stranger to feeling alone as the following weeks continued to pass. The girls at the coven graciously accepted him into their home. Offering their own bits of advice and “tutoring” skills to him, like he really needed it. He had already performed the Seven Wonders test. Why are earth he had to be present in each class, Y/N didn’t know, but she hadn’t understood any of Cordelia’s decisions as of late.

Y/N saw the growth in Michael, easily. From a timid, apprehensive stance in the beginning when he first arrived, to a sultry, cocky attitude. The dismay she felt in her sisters as they all seemed to fall to Michael’s feet, batting their eyelashes, giving too friendly smiles and too try-hard giggles, was sickening. This safe haven of a coven was turning into a mess. 

Everyone was hesitant and careful in the beginning with Michael too, knowing who he was and where he came from. But it was all forgotten as soon as that little prick smiled, seeming to melt everyone’s hearts around him.

She didn’t understand it. He was the antichrist for a reason, and it was all ignored as soon as he simply breathed in their direction. Sure he was civil and friendly with everyone, but the charm he laid out, how enticing he became, it was like she was watching him lay traps out for everyone and smirked as he caught them all without lifting a finger. 

Everyone could be problematic and fall for his stupid captivating blue eyes and perfectly plump, pink lips that grinned in a way that had Y/N’s heart dropping each time she saw the corners of his mouth raise if they wanted. But she knew who he was deep down, and that wasn’t going to change with the coven’s affection and newfound care for this figure of evil. 

As long as she didn’t have to deal and interact with him, but could keep a watchful eye out for everyone, she figured everything would be okay. She’d continue to keep her guard up with him, but could go along with her life as normal otherwise. 

But this wasn’t sitting well with Michael. From the very first day, he sensed the hesitation and aversion in her for him. He knew it was probably because of who he is and what he had done. Everyone would be careful with him of course understandably, but they all warmed up to him within a few weeks as he showed progress and potential in being better. 

Everyone but her. Y/N.

And it made him furious. 

~~~

The angered words, “What is your problem with me,” fall from Michael’s mouth as he tries to maintain a calm demeanor as he follows Y/N up the stairs of the double staircase towards the hallway that leads to her room.  “Who said I have a problem with you,” Y/N answers back deadpan to Michael, not bothering to look back at him as she walks up the steps. “I know you do,” Michael starts. Y/N doesn’t care to say anything else, just continues to walk up the steps and down the hall towards her room so she can ultimately create distance between her and him. Michael persists behind her as she walks down the hall. He feels the annoyance boiling in him as he speaks to her, even if the conversation has just started. He feels completely ignored from her lack of prominent interest and attention to him. No eye contact, no emotion to her tone, a cold-shouldered type of vibe coming from her, and he hates it. “Hello? I’m speaking to you,” Michael glares. “I just told you I couldn’t go over a spell, that’s all. I have other things to attend to, don’t be so dramatic,” Y/N explains, stopping at her room door and turning to Michael who stands before her.  Y/N had just been in the kitchen with a newly young student and was going over a Pyrokinesis spell with her to get started on gaining control of her powers. Michael witnessed this, and as the girl left, Michael had asked Y/N if she could go over and teach the spell to him as well. It had immediately become the longest conversation they had had since his arrival and Y/N was already tired of it. So she blew him off, saying she had to get going, and simply left with that. But Michael was refusing to accept her rejection.  “Really, other things? Such as?” Michael knew she was bluffing and making up lies to get out of even wanting to speak with him any longer. He’d had it with her and was ready to face the truth from her on why she seemed so intent on ignoring his existence.  “Is it really any of your business,” Y/N crosses her arms. “You don’t need to learn a new spell anyway. You know how to generate and control fire all on your own considering your.. abilities,” she looks at him with a bit disgust.  “Considering my ‘abilities.’ What is that supposed to mean?” Michael narrows his eyes. “Exactly how it sounds,” Y/N answers impassively and turns, opening her door and walking in. She tries to close the door behind her, but Michael pushes it open, inviting himself in and closing her bedroom door after. “Get out of my room,” she demands as he stands before her in bedroom, eyes glaring at him.  “Not until you explain what the hell I did to you,” Michael states. “What does that mean,” Y/N asks.  “It means, ever since my first day here, you’ve acted as if I don’t exist, treated me like I’m not even here.” Y/N rolls her eyes.  “You never call on me in class,” he points, “you don’t offer me any advice, you haven’t even had a decent conversation with me unless you count when we pass each other in the hallway and you give a fake as fuck smile when I say hello to you,” Michael explains, fists tightening by his sides. Y/N laughs a bit to herself and crosses her arms.  “You think this is funny?” Michael glares. “I’m just amused,” Y/N explains. “You have plenty of ‘friends’ here, why does it matter if I’m one of them?” “You act like I don’t exist,” Michael calls.  “Who cares? You’re seriously this concerned over a lack of attention from me? You have endless attention from any of the girls downstairs.” “I’d just like to receive a little bit of human decency from you,” Michael states. “Human decency?” Y/N raises her eyes. “You’re kidding me, right?” “Why would I be kidding?” He steps over to her. “You think I enjoy being ignored by you constantly?” “Seriously? Get a grip and grow up,” she drops her arms by her sides. “You have all the girl’s here fawning over you, giving any and all of the recognition and admiration you need,” she waves off. “And what is that supposed to mean,” Michael narrows his eyes. “Oh please, I see how everyone flirts with you. Laughing too hard at your jokes and sarcastic remarks, fluttering their eyes at you and speaking in compliments and flattery.” Michael lets out a small laugh.  “You think this is funny, now?” Y/N glares. “I think I’m impressed,” Michael grins.  She scoffs at his words. “You’ve clearly paid more attention to me than I thought you did.” Y/N narrows her eyes and crosses her arms again.  “You’ve noticed all the female attention and praise I get around here more than I thought. I figured you were too busy with everyone else to give me the time of day, but clearly, you do pay attention to me,” he smirks. Y/N lets out an annoyed “hmp,” grinning frustratingly. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Y/N starts. “’Get her a bit riled up, that’ll show her and get her to admit some kind of...’ what?” She mocks. “Attraction and admiration for you?” Michael half shrugs, his hands clasping behind his back. “You’re the one that followed me all the way up to my room, demanding to know why I won’t give you some attention. You’re the one that’s concerned over the fact that I’m not worshiping you at your feet like everyone else here is, and you have the audacity to spin it back on me?” Michael with a smug expression, steps closer to her again, “Trust me, you’ll be on your knees for me sooner than you think.” Y/N glares, “You wish. Now get the fuck out of my room.” “No. I’m not done talking about this.” “Well I am, and I want you out. Now,” she states, pointing to her door. “It doesn’t work that way,” he tilts his head to the side a big, grinning lightly. “It does in this house. You’re not the fucking king, alpha or even the Supreme here,” she starts, taking a step toward him. “You’re beneath all of us, you will never be at any of our levels, no matter who your father is,” Y/N calls.  “You better watch who you’re talking to,” Michael informs, anger registering on his face. “Or what? You gonna hurt me? Kill me?” She fake gasps. “Show everyone here that you are exactly who you’re supposed to be?” Michael glares more towards her. “You’re just a weak, scared little boy who craves appraisal and adoration from any and everyone,” Y/N taunts, “but then goes crying to his daddy when he doesn’t get his way.” Michael still glaring, reaches over with just a bit of space between them and grips her throat with a hand, forcing her to look at him, staring directly into those enticing blue eyes of his. Her hands grab around Michael’s hand on her, eyes widening a bit from the sudden touch. “I’d fucking apologize and cooperate with me if I were you. You’ll regret it if you don’t. The last thing you want to do is to be speaking to me the way you are,” Michael seethes, letting go of her throat with a harsh shove. Y/N looks at him with wide eyes, eyeing him with disgust. But then she suddenly begins to laugh.  He raises his eyes with vexation. “You don’t fucking scare me. You wish it was that easy and that I’d just cooperate, but you won’t be getting any of that bullshit from me -- And don’t you ever put your fucking hands on me again,” she snaps. “You have no right to demand anything. You’re here because Cordelia fell for your fake ass act, but I’m not dumb like everyone else. I know who you are and what you’re up to.” “Yeah, which is what, exactly? Please enlighten me,” Michael asks, striding over. “You know exactly what it is,” she answers, stepping backward each step as Michael gets closer. “Everyone else may think you’ve changed, but I know you haven’t really.” “Haven’t I?” He muses. “Of course not. You can’t change someone as rotten and twisted as you,” Y/N glares.  “Is that what you believe, or are you just trying to tell yourself that so you don’t feel guilty for feeling the way you really do for me?” “What,” Y/N calls. “Feeling what way?” “You know exactly what,” he smirks. “The only things I feel for you are disgust and repulsion,” she crosses her arms, trying to stand her ground. “You can keep telling yourself that, but don’t forget who I am -- which clearly you haven’t.” “If only I could,” she rolls her eyes.  “Don’t act like you’re almighty and better than any of the other witches here, like you feel no sense of attraction for me. I can smell the lust radiating from you,” Michael speaks smugly.  Y/N drops her jaw, mortified at his words. They weren’t true. Were they? No, of course not. She was repulsed by him, by every bit of his existence. He was just fucking with her, that’s what he was supposed to do, considering on who he is. She steps forward, closing the space between them almost as she raises her hand to slap him across the face. Before her hand can come in contact with his cheek, he grips her wrist, holding it before her. With a growing smirk, he pulls on the hold of her wrist and brings her into his body, closing the small space between them, crashing his lips to hers. Pulling her hand away from Michael, she steps back, gasping with widened eyes at his sudden actions.  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” she calls. “Doing exactly what we both want to do,” he strides again towards her. She backs up, trying to keep space between them. “You’re the last person I’d ever want to kiss, much less anything else. I utterly despise you,” she glares, still stepping backward until her her back hits the wall. “If that’s what you want to call it, fine,” Michael smirks. “But I know we both want this. So you can either fight it and prolong the inevitable, or just let it happen already.” Y/N glares, hating the way he’s so arrogant in his words and supposedly knows her. He doesn’t know her, he doesn’t know what she wants, or what she feels for him. The way he’s so prideful contradicts his confidence, it’s just annoying. What’s even more annoying is she thinks Michael may be right about her after all. 

Leaning up, she presses her lips to Michael’s, closing the space between them. She grabs onto the knot of his bow-tie, pulling him towards her body as he presses himself firmly to her, an arm wrapping around her waist, the other hand pressing against the wall beside them to hold himself up. Kissing deeply, enjoying the way each other tastes, sets off an explosion between them. Y/N’s hand moves around Michael’s neck, the other cupping his cheek as he continues to hold her to him. Y/N can feel the hardness of his cock against her thigh, causing her to moan softly into Michael’s mouth. Her hand pushes up through Michael’s blond locks, gripping and pulling at the roots lightly, causing Michael to groan himself. Michael removes his hand from the wall, sliding it down the side of her body, along her covered curves. He pushes his hand up her black skirt, pressing his palm against her fabric covered heat. He rubs against her teasingly, Y/N moaning out as she leans her head back.  “I haven’t even done anything yet and I can already feel how wet you are,” Michael whispers huskily into her ear, cocky smirk residing on his face as he laughs arrogantly after.  “I’ll slap that fucking smirk off your face if you don’t get rid of it,” Y/N breathes out as she looks at him.  “I’d like to see you try,” Michael challenges. Before Y/N can say anything else, Michael pulls his blazer off, tossing it aside and turns her around, her front pressing to the wall. Y/N bites on her lip, turning her head as if to look back at Michael. “And what exactly do you plan on doing now?” “I plan on treating you exactly the way you should be treated,” Michael hisses into her ear from behind, pulling up her skirt to her waist, revealing her black lace underwear. “Fuck, who knew a stuck up witch bitch like you could be so sexy,” Michael whispers, hands grabbing her ass cheeks, rubbing and spreading them apart for a second as he kneels down. He kisses at the bottom of her back just before the trim of where her underwear lies. He kisses at each of her back dimples, finding them sexy, bringing his lips to her right ass cheek, kissing her, then the other side. Y/N’s breathes heavily to herself as she feels Michael’s lips against her. It’s a confusing situation. She figures Michael Langdon would be the type to fuck thoroughly and relentlessly. But here he was, seeming to take his time and kissing her affectionately.  Until, Y/N snaps a, “Ow, hey!” when Michael bites her ass through the fabric, causing him to grin. The bite was hard enough that it would leave a mark on her for sure, which is what he really wanted. A discreet way of claiming her. He stands up after, fingers hooking into the sides of her underwear, pulling down until they drop and pool at Y/N’s feet. She closes her eyes when she feels Michael’s fingers slide against her heat, causing her to forget the pain of the bite, moving through her folds and to her clit. He rubs a circle against her, causing Y/N to moan out and bite her lip. “For someone who claims to be so repulsed by me, you sure are fucking wet,” Michael taunts, sliding his finger through her folds again and down to her lightly pulsing entrance to where he pushes a finger in. Y/N bites down on her lip harder but mumbles out a soft, “Fuck.” Michael pumps his finger in, starting at a slow pace, wanting to tease and work her up. His slow pace has Y/N prominently whining and whimpering and grinding against his finger for more friction. Hearing Y/N’s whiny, heavy breaths has him smirking, knowing how needy she’s becoming already. He adds a second finger soon after, Y/N releasing a relieved sigh, and moaning more as he quickens his movements. He curls his fingers as he keeps pumping, Y/N moaning out again. “You better be more quiet than this when I fuck the shit out of you. Can’t have the whole coven hearing you screaming,” Michael says, pumping his fingers and pressing his thumb against her clit as he moves his hand. “I don’t think that will be a problem,” she breathes out, but speaking as clear as she can. “Considering your incompetence,” Y/N says, ignoring the pleasure building in her stomach for a second as she bites back at Michael with her snarky reply. But then in one swift motion, she feels Michael remove his fingers. Y/N narrows her eyes at the lack of touch. But then she yelps, eyes widening from the sharp pain that shoots through her ass from the slap of Michael’s hand.  “You sure about that?” Michael hisses, gripping her hair into ponytail and pulling her head back. She gasps, groaning a bit from the yank as she closes her eyes, whimpering a bit from the pull. “What was that? Can’t hear you?” Michael glares. Y/N huffs out a breath. “Isn’t that what you wanted? To not be able to hear me,” she says, opening her eyes and looking towards the ceiling as Michael holds her hair tightly. He lets go, her eyes looking back at the wall. “If you talk shit again, I’ll hit you even harder,” Michael whispers into her ear from behind. Y/N swallows, biting her tongue to stay quiet. Not to listen and please him, but to not give in to his dirty talk, knowing she likes everything he’s doing to her so far. She didn’t want to give him that satisfaction and have him know how much she was really enjoying everything. Though I’m sure he could sense it.  Michael slides his hand back down, over her ass where he spanked and bit her, and back to her heat. He pushes his two fingers inside of her with ease, pumping them again, curling his fingers and causing Y/N to shut her eyes and bite her lip to not moan out. Michael’s other hand reaches around her waist, sliding down to find her clit. He pumps his fingers inside of her faster, harder, his other hand beginning to rub at her clit in fierce circles.  “Oh fuck, Michael,” Y/N breathes out, leaning her forehead against the wall. As his movements continue, keeping a consistent pattern, Y/N whimpers out softly, feeling the tightening clench in her stomach.  “You know, maybe I do want to hear you scream,” he says, and Y/N knows there’s a smug look on his face without even having to look. As his fingers rub circles against her clit, rubbing her back and forth and harder, Y/N drops her jaw, feeling the wave of pleasure beginning to consume her. It builds and builds, she’s close and she knows she’s about to finish. Until Michael stops suddenly, ceasing all pleasure from occurring at all.  Y/N opens her eyes, turning her head around a bit. “Hey, what the fuck,” she glares. “Oh, did that bother you? That I stopped what I was doing?” Michael smirks, his hands moving to the top of his pants as he unzips them. “Obviously it did, you fuck,” Y/N rolls her eyes. Another gasp leaves Y/N’s mouth, the sting of another slap on her ass causing her to groan and wince at the same time. It hurt, but so good, so deliciously, she wasn’t sure if she should risk the humiliation of asking Michael for more. “I said, talk shit to me again, and it’ll be even harder,” Michael states, grabbing her waist and turning her around to face him. With her breath heavy and shallow, hands hovering in the air a second as she doesn’t know where to put them, she gives a doe-like look to him almost, but then glares at him again. Michael smirks knowing he has an effect on her, clearly, and presses his body to hers. He slides his fingers back in her, Y/N parting her lips and leaning her head back, closing her eyes. “Maybe you like it when I hit you. You’re practically dripping down my fingers. Is that what gets you going?” He taunts her as he pumps his fingers inside of her slowly. Y/N opens her eyes, glaring at Michael again. “Are you just going to mock and tease me, or are you going to fuck me already?” Michael forcibly turns her around again, pressing her against the wall harder than last time and spanks her ass twice as hard as the last time too, the slap ringing through the room. “Fuck, Michael,” she breathes out, tightening her eyes for a second. She couldn’t explain how into it she was, the aching pleasure compensated for the pain. She’d never been treated this way before, and she had never enjoyed this intimacy with someone before as much as she was with Michael. She couldn’t believe she was experiencing this with him, of all people.  “You don’t get to decide when my cock is ready for you,” Michael hisses. “You’ve treated me like shit since the day I arrived, like I’m worth nothing to you. And now you think you can decide when you get my cock? You really think I’m going to make it that easy?” Y/N breathes out shakily, his low, husky voice bringing a tremble to her body. He was right, she had ignored him, for lack of a better term, since he arrived. But now, she wanted him completely, wanted him to fuck her until she was sore and aching. She didn’t trust him, and yet, she was letting him do all this to her and was greedy for more of it. “Is this what you want,” Michael whispers into Y/N’s ear, the head of his cock sliding against Y/N heat though her folds, teasing her pulsing, slick center. “Mm, Michael,” she whines, leaning her forehead against the wall. “Use your words,” Michael grins, continuing to tease her, aligning his cock with her entrance and pushing in a bit, Y/N humming out pleasurably, but pulling back out as he hears her, causing Y/N to groan with frustration.  “Yes Michael, fuck,” she begs, pressing her hands harder against the wall to help steady her, letting out a deep breath. “Fucking beg for it.” Michael hisses. “Beg for my cock.” Y/N bites down on her lip again, trying to contain her frustration and aggravation of Michael’s teasing. His cock continued to slick against her, teasing her, taunting her of what she so clearly wanted. “I want your cock.” “That was fucking pathetic,” Michael spits, drawing the tip of his cock back. “You’ll have to do a lot better than that.” Y/N rolled her eyes up, conflicted with giving in to begging Michael, or standing her ground. But when Michael teases her again, pushing the tip of his head into her wet heat more, it’s just enough to make her give in to the temptation and carnal pleasure. “Fuck, please Michael. Please fuck me,” she breathed out whiny.  “Better be more specific than that,” Michael says. Y/N sighs frustratedly. “I want your cock inside of me,” she begged. “I want you to fuck me until I’m aching, please.” Michael turns her around to face him, her eyes connecting to his in an instant. He grabs a fist full of her hair like earlier, making sure her eyes stay focused on him. “You’re much more tolerable when you’re begging me to fuck you. When you’re needy like this, completely at my mercy,” he smirks, grabbing her leg and causing it to wrap around his waist. “It’s so pathetic, it’s almost cute.” Y/N glares, not sure if she wants to slap him across the face or kiss him. “Fuck you, Mi--” Y/N starts, but stops when Michael tightens his fist in her hair and pushes his cock inside of her. “Oh, fuck,” Y/N calls out, head leaning back slightly from the hair pull. Y/N didn’t have to see Michael’s cock in full to know how big he was. She could feel it, feel his massive, thick length as he thrusted so deep and full inside of her, creating an undeniable pull of pleasure already that was rooted deep inside her, something she never felt so quickly before with anyone.  Michael lets go of her hair only to grab her throat, causing Y/N’s eyes to flutter closed, moaning out over it. Fucking into her relentlessly, Y/N thought back to how this is how she assumed Michael Langdon fucked. Not softly, not diligently, but rough, hard, thoroughly. She knew she would feel him for days after this encounter and she was embracing every moment of it.  Michael rocked his hips harder against her, skin slapping against skin as he kept slamming into her, increasing his movements and speed. Y/N’s hand held onto the wrist of his hand that was around her throat, her other hand pressed back to the wall to stabilize herself as she felt the deep thrust of Michael, needing to steady herself as he pounded away, feeling an unhinging forming in the pit of her stomach as she moved with him and matched his movements.  “That’s it, keep going,” Michael breathes out, gripping her throat a bit tighter. “You can take it. You can take my full cock filling up every bit of you,” he groans. “Shit, harder Michael,” Y/N whines through his hold, opening her eyes.  Michael doesn’t hesitate to listen, letting go of her throat and gripping her hips tightly with both hands as he thrusts harder and deeper, reaching a spot and activating a new sense of pleasure in Y/N that she hadn’t ever felt before. The best sex of her life of course would be with the antichrist.  “Fuck, I’m so close,” Y/N breathes out heavily, whimpering over Michael’s harsh movements that were causing her inner spasms, seeing the blissful expression on his own face as he fucked her thoroughly.  Michael slides a hand from her hip, down towards her clit, rubbing circles along her as he focuses. Continuing to thrust into her, quickening his movements even more, rubbing fast, small circles along her clit, he doesn’t need her to tell him she’s close, he can figure it all on his own from the way she feels. “O-Oh fuck, Michael, right there, right there,” Y/N calls out, mouth parted open, the fullness of Michael and rubbing of her clit causing her to tighten her eyes as she feels herself starting to cum, waves of pleasure jolting through her as her stomach tightens and unhinges.  Feeling Y/N contract and release against him, hearing the way she's moaning, the way she looks herself with feeling undeniable carnal pleasure, has Michael cumming himself, his movements becoming sloppier as he slows down and thrusts through his own orgasm. 

As Michael slows to a gradual stop, taking a second to catch his breath, Y/N sighs out, feeling pleasurably content. Michael pulls out of Y/N, earning a wince from her in the process of feeling the absence of his large length.  Michael pushes a hand through his blond hair, grabbing his blazer off the floor and zips up his pants again. Y/N pulls down on her skirt to cover herself to keep some privacy and dignity of the moment. “I hope you know that just because I let you fuck me, doesn’t mean I like you now,” Y/N mumbles, pushing down on her hair to try and contain it’s ruffled mess.  Michael chuckles cockily to himself, and looks at her after pulling his blazer back on. He steps over to her, closing the space between them again, causing Y/N to look up at him. He looks her over, smugly, and Y/N wishes she knew what was going through his mind.  “You really don’t get it do you,” Michael says. Y/N narrows her eyes.  “I’m not going to destroy your coven, kill your sisters and Cordelia, or do whatever it is that you think I’m doing.” Y/N squints her eyes skeptically. Michael suddenly grabs her throat, pushing her back to the wall, Y/N eyes looking at him confused. “If I wanted to ruin your coven, if I wanted to kill any of you here, I could in an instant and the world would go on without missing a beat,” he whispers lowly to her. Y/N glares. “I could annihilate any one of you in a second, including you, especially when you had your guard down as I fucked you.” Y/N glares more.  “But I didn’t,” he says nonchalant. “If I wanted to, I could; I could have started with you easily. So you can drop the ‘almighty, superior’ act of not trusting me, and maybe you grow up and realize, people can change. Yeah?” Michael smirks, letting go of her throat and stepping back. Y/N hates how she’s given in to everything today. She didn’t want to interact with him in the first place, but with all that’s happened and so willingly, he was breaking her down. He had everyone under his finger except her, though, maybe now he was getting to her too, because she was conflicted over believing Michael’s words now. “You could be playing me,” Y/N says. “You could be bullshitting me into believing this, and then when I’ve kept my guard down long enough, you kill all of us when we least expect it.” “I could snap my fingers and Thanos you all,” Michael states matter of fact. “Did you just reference the Avengers: Infinity War? Seriously?” Y/N rolls her eyes Michael grins. “Just saying. I don’t need to gain your trust and make sure you keep your guard down to kill anyone. I could do it in an instant if I wanted to. But I don’t. So quit fucking worrying,” Michael states and steps to her door. Y/N looks after him, crossing her arms. Everything he’s saying makes sense. Clearly he’s powerful enough, what with completely the Seven Wonders. He could have killed her or done something when fucking her, too. What did he need to wait on? Was this Michael just breaking her down for some reason, or was he actually changing? “Also, I’m taking you out to dinner on Friday,” Michael says as he looks back at her before leaving. “What,” Y/N narrows her eyes. “Why?” “For our date,” Michael smirks. “Our ‘date,’” Y/N raises her eyes. “Should have bought you dinner first before all of this. All that gentleman shit, right?” She stares at him with a narrowed expression. “You can say you’re repulsed by me all you want. But we both know you’re really not. Anyway, be ready by 7. You’re in for one hell of night,” Michael winks and leaves, closing the door behind her. Y/N stares at the closed door, dumbfounded over what just happened. She hated and despised him (or so she told herself) just this morning, and now she was going on a date with him later in the week, apparently. What confused her the most was she was smiling now and finding herself suddenly excited for the date. Maybe Michael was changing after all. All she knew now was that it was only a matter of time before she’d end up falling for his captivating soul, like everyone else had. The only difference was, Michael was falling for her soul too. It was inevitable.

~

A/N: Any feedback is much appreciated! :)) Thanks for reading! <3

[nothingeverlost]

Fic: Henry Gold (9/?)

Summary: Regina asked for Gold’s help in procuring a child, but when he held the wee boy in his arms he couldn’t give the child up.  Ten years later it’s Henry Gold who arrives in Boston, looking for Emma.

This chapter: A storm comes to Storybrooke.  Emma meets the stranger.  Gold looks at dogs

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 /  Chapter 8

II

“You alright?”  Emma waited until Henry was out of the room, carrying his breakfast to the dining room, before asking.  Gold had been limping around the kitchen more than usual.

“Storms make my ankle ache more than usual. It’s going to be a brutal one.”  Gold carried his cup of tea and toast into the dining room.  “Henry, not stopping at your castle today.  It’s straight home, and I’ll close up early.  We can do a movie night, if you like.”

“With popcorn?” he asked hopefully.

“Popcorn and a lake of butter, as long as there’s no complaints about vegetables with dinner,” Gold promised.

“Speaking of storms Graham said something about sandbags.  I better get going if I’m going to pick up coffee before meeting him at the station.”  At some point she was going to have to buy a coffee pot, but that felt like assuming a little too much.  Her own brand of toothpaste in the bathroom was one thing, but an appliance on the counter was something else entirely.  Now that she was staying in town they were going to have to have a serious conversation about her finding a place of her own, or at least paying rent.

“You’re invited to join us for movies, but I’m going to assume you’ll find yourself otherwise occupied.  Storms generally mean extra work for Graham.”  Gold glanced at his son.  “If you’re not able to come home tonight I’m sure Henry would appreciate a call at bedtime.”

“Will do.”  She wondered if she would have thought of it without prompting.  She wasn’t used to anyone waiting up for her, but somehow the last couple of times she’d been out late Gold had always been waiting.

She got to the diner just before seven-fifteen, plenty of time to order coffee and a couple of muffins before she had to meet up with Graham.  Bran muffins had to be better for the heart than donuts.  She was surprised to see Mary Margaret at one of the tables, considering she didn’t have long to get to school if there was anything to set up for class.  She was about to go over to say hi when the door opened and David came in, ordering two coffees.  It was too bad she hadn’t gotten to Mary Margaret first because the exchange she had to observe between her and David was painful.  It also wasn’t the first time she’d seen them staring at each other.

“Good book?”  Emma had enough time to slide into the chair across the table from Mary Margaret.  The teacher looked almost surprised to find a book on the table, as if she’d forgotten it completely.  Not surprising, since it seemed little more than a prop. 

“What?”   The lack of food on the table was telling too.

“Graham mentioned that David got a job at the animal shelter now.  He looks like he’s doing better.”  He wasn’t unconscious anymore, which was points in his favor.

“He starts work at eight and works until five.”  Mary Margaret glanced over her shoulder, where the street was now empty.  “Except on Friday he left early.  I saw him picking up Chinese food for him and Kathryn.”

“You don’t seem like the stalking type.”  Emma raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not a stalker.  I just know his routine.  It’s a small town.”  Mary Margaret looked down at the book she hadn’t actually been reading.  “Maybe I’m a little bit of a stalker.  I can’t stop thinking about him, not since that night at the river.”

“He’s married.  I know things were pretty intense that night but he has a wife and he’s chosen to be with her.”  He seemed to settle into the life he’d had before the coma with surprising speed.  

“I don’t know how to get him out of my head.”

“Maybe the first step is not getting coffee here tomorrow.  Do something different.  If you don’t see him every day maybe you’ll think about him less.”  If out of sight out of mind worked she would have forgotten almost everyone she even knew, but it was the most practical advice she had to offer.

“If only there was a magic cure to make you stop loving someone,” she said with a sigh.

II

“If only there was a magic cure to stop hating someone.”  Emma sat at her desk trying to look like she was busy, which was hard given that she only had a couple of pieces of paper to shuffle.  Regina had come in a few minutes ago to ‘find out’ how preparations for the storm were going.  While Emma had actual things she needed to do she wasn’t leaving Graham alone in the same building with Regina.  She was leaning over the desk in a way that was clearly meant to offer a view of her chest; her outfit was not designed for keeping her warm in a storm.

She knew enough about Graham to be able to see that he was beyond uncomfortable and rounding the corner to high blood pressure.  Regina didn’t know how to take a hint.  “Hey Graham, if you’re ready we have that thing we need to do.”

“I’m sure whatever it is you can handle on your own, deputy.”  

“We have a storm coming, Mayor.  I’m sure it’s in your best interest if the town is prepared for any possible problems.  Wouldn’t want you to have to field questions about why there weren’t any sandbags available or why no one was monitoring for potential flooding of the river.”  Graham looked noticeably relieved when Regina stood up and turned her attention to Emma.

“When you’re done playing with sand there’s a new man in town.  I want to know who he is and why he’s here.  And how long he’s staying.”

“Why?  It’s not against the law to visit Storybrooke is it?”  Emma thought of the stranger they’d seen on the motorcycle.  

“I didn’t say to arrest him, I said find out why he’s here.  If he is here to cause trouble I would think you would want to know, especially since I saw him speaking with the young Gold boy this morning.  I would say that you should watch out for bad influences but I’m afraid it’s too late there.”  Regina smirked as she looked at Emma before leaving.

“Too bad this storm isn’t a tornado.  I know the perfect candidate to have a house fall on them.”  Emma wanted to ask Graham if he was alright, but they were still sorting out what it meant to work together and she didn’t want to bring up something so emotional at work.  Instead she started humming ‘ding dong the witch is dead’ as she headed out to check on the families that lived farthest from town.

II

The only dogs at the animal shelter were too small or too purebred.  When he’d still been a man, so many lifetimes ago, he’d owned large mutts meant to help with the sheep.  Bae had loved playing with them.  If he was going to get a dog for Henry it was going to be something that could go for walks and keep up with a ten year old.  If it also happened to be big enough to attack an evil queen all the better.  Regina had never been very fond of dogs.

“I can take any of them out if you want a closer look,” David Nolan offered.  He’d settled into his new job quickly, his years on a farm tending animals showing even though he didn’t have the memories.

“No, thank you.  None of them suit.”

“Perhaps if you tell me what you’re looking for I can give you a call when we get new dogs?”

“My son is turning eleven in a few months.  It seems like a good age to learn responsibility with a pet.  I don’t want anything so small it could be confused with an overgrown hamster or so over bred it doesn’t know it’s a dog.  Something that doesn’t like to chew on leather shoes would be a plus,” he smiled wryly, knowing he would sacrifice any item in his closet if it made his boy happy.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.  I had a dog when I was his age.  Prince was my best friend,” David smiled nostalgically, remembering a dog that never existed.  Gold resisted rolling his name at the ironic name.  It was almost as ridiculous as Snow’s cursed name being Blanchard and his own given name being Gold.  Like Regina the spell she’d cast lacked subtlety. 

“I’m sure he was.  You may call me if anything suitable comes in, but don’t leave a message.  I don’t want my boy to find out and ruin the surprise.”  It had been a while since Henry had mentioned a dog, but he begged Archie to walk Pongo often.

“Of course Mr. Gold.  I…”

“David.”  A gust of wind came into the room when the front door was opened, rustling papers and bringing a reminder of the coming storm.  It also brought in Mary Margaret, carrying a shoebox.  Gold looked down at his watch; Henry would be walking home from school, and he needed to head for home.

“I think we understand each other, Mr. Nolan.” He might as well have been talking to the walls, for all the attention he was getting.  Charming only had eyes for his true wife.  Gold stepped back.

“There was a dove caught in wire.  It’s hurt.”  She held out the box in offering, but neither of them were looking at the box.  Outside there was a storm brewing but it didn’t seem anything compared to the electricity between them.  It took a lot of power to keep true love apart.  For the present, though, there was nothing he could do to bring Emma’s parents back together except leave them alone and wait. He quietly left, walking out just as the rain began.

II

The high school gym was a designated shelter.  Emma stopped by to make sure it was unlocked.  She found Leroy inside, grumbling as he unfolded cots.  Since he was drinking coffee and not alcohol she left him alone. Graham had already arrested him twice since she’d become deputy; apparently he was the jail cell’s most frequent visitor.  Emma didn’t have time to find out if there was a story behind his frequent drinking.  As she was walking away from the school she saw Kathryn Nolan out in her yard, hand on her fence.

“Looking for something?” she asked.

“My husband.  David should have been home from the shelter an hour ago.  He’s not answering his phone, but he has trouble remembering it.  He didn’t carry one regularly before the coma.”  Kathryn frowned, one hand holding up her umbrella and the other holding her coat closed.  “I need to go look for him.”

“He’s probably still at work calming the animals or something.  I’ll look, okay?  You getting caught in this storm isn’t going to do anyone any good.”  Emma worried that David had wandered off again.  She couldn’t deny that she was also worried that when she found him he wouldn’t be alone.  She’d seen the way he looked at Mary Margaret; it was too similar to the way Mary Margaret looked at him.

“Thank you, Deputy Swan.  That would mean a lot to me.”  Kathryn sounded worried.  She sounded like a wife.  Emma felt guilty knowing that her relationship might not be as solid as she hoped.

“It’s Emma.  Just Emma.”  Titles never did sit well on her.  “Why don’t you give me your number; it will save me having to call dispatch to get it later.”

She left a minute later, waiting to make sure Kathryn went inside.  The rain was coming down harder and the wind was picking up; the fewer people outside the better.  Emma headed straight for the animal shelter only to find the doors locked and only a few dim lights on.  She checked at Granny’s, picking up a couple of coffees for herself and Graham.  No David.  On her drive back to the sheriff’s station she tried calling his cell, but it went directly to voicemail.  She tried not to make assumptions when Mary Margaret didn’t answer either. 

“Everything alright?”  She observed Graham carefully before handing him the coffee.  He wasn’t that long out of the hospital and she wasn’t crazy about the fact that he had to be running around in a storm.  His jacked was dripping from its place on the coat rack.

“The river is starting to rise.  I think we should go check on Michael Tillman and a couple of other families that live close to there.  They might need to spend the night at the school.”  He wrapped his hands around the paper cup.  “Thanks.”

“Give me just a minute.”  It was hard to tell the time with the storm darkening the sky earlier than usual, but when Emma looked at the clock she could see that dinner time had come and passed.  If they were heading out again phone calls were going to get harder to make, and she had a promise to keep.  “I need to say goodnight to Henry.”

“Tell him I said goodnight too.”  Graham went back to his desk, giving Emma space to make her call.  She wouldn’t have minded if he’d stayed closer.

II

The storm raged until the early hours of the morning.  At least three trees were reported down, one of them crushing a Ford Pinto.  Kathryn Nolan had called to let her know that David had come home just before midnight.  Five families had been evacuated to the school, including Michael and the twins.  Fortunately the power held, which kept things from getting too hard to manage.  By four am Emma and Graham were both able to crash for a few hours of sleep on the beds in the cells.  It was almost eight when Emma woke to find Graham already up.

“Breakfast?”  Dinner the night before had been hastily eaten sandwiches, and Emma was starving.  The single stale donut she found in a box wasn’t appealing.

“There’s a couple of things I need to check on.  Meet you there in a little bit.”  Graham pulled a clean shirt out of his file cabinet, not bothering to turn around when he stripped off the one he’d slept in.  Emma had seen him without a shirt, but when doctors were trying to save someone’s life their bare chest didn’t have the same meaning.  How he managed to keep so nicely toned when he ate donuts and frozen meals she didn’t know.  It was a good thing she’d already made plans to leave, because it would be easy to stick around and the last thing either of them needed was a make out session at work.

“Sure.”  Granny’s was close enough to the station to walk as long as she wasn’t going anywhere right after.  Emma figured it was a good chance to survey Main Street and make sure nothing was damaged.  It was a good chance to call Gold and see if he and Henry were interested in breakfast too.  He promised they would meet her at the diner in fifteen minutes, which meant she had enough time to drink a cup of coffee and wake up a bit.

“Coffee’s on the house, Emma.”  Ruby started pouring her a cup the moment she walked into the door.

“You’re a saint.”  She hadn’t realized how cold she was until she picked up the mug.  

“Not something people usually call me.  The opposite, maybe.”  Ruby grinned and pushed the cream in Emma’s direction.  

While she doctored her coffee Emma glanced over at Sidney Glass who was sitting at the counter, but rather than coffee he was nursing a drink.  “You going to order a side of bacon for that whiskey?”  

“Didn’t sleep yet,” Sidney muttered before throwing back the rest of his drink and stumbling for the door.  Emma had to wonder how many drinks he’d had.

“He’s walking,” Ruby commented as she watched him leave.  

“Are you sure?”  Glass didn’t look in any condition to be behind a wheel.  She might hate the article he'd written but that didn’t mean she wanted him in an accident.

“Positive.”  Ruby held up a key that dangled off a Storybrooke Mirror keychain. 

“Thanks, I would have worried.  I’m going to grab a booth, alright?  Henry, Gold, and Graham are joining me.”

“Take any place you like.  I’ll start on the hot chocolate with cinnamon.”  Ruby headed for the cash register when someone came up with their bill.  Emma headed for the window; Henry liked the booths overseeing the street best.  Sitting in the first booth was the stranger she’d seen the other night, the same one that was bothering Regina with his presence.  Emma paused at his table.

“So you decided to stay.”

“For the time being.”  The stranger leaned back to look up at her. “So you’re a cop, huh?”

“Yeah.”  The title deputy settled easier on her than cop, but she supposed there wasn’t really a difference.  If only her social worker could see her now.  

“Am I breaking some law I don’t know about?  You seem very curious.”  He seemed very smug.  She wasn’t sure if it amused her or annoyed her.

“Just wondering what you were doing talking to Henry yesterday morning.”  She wondered, too, why the Mayor had been paying so much attention, but he couldn’t answer that.

“Is that the kid you were with the other night?  The one that came up asking me questions about my bike and why I was in town?  Is he always that curious and precocious?  Reminds me of someone else I’ve met recently.”  He looked pointedly at her.

“Aren’t most kids curious?” she asked without caring about the answer.  She didn’t need a stranger speculating about how similar she was to Henry.

“My bike broke down and I was fixing it.  I didn’t go looking for him.”  The stranger took a sip of his coffee.

“What are you looking for?  You came to Storybrooke for a reason.  The box on your bike, it looks like it was designed for something specific.”  It was clearly important enough to him that he’d taken it off his box and brought it into the diner.  It sat on the seat next to him.

“It’s awfully frustrating not knowing, isn’t it?”  Annoying, Emma decided.  The smug thing was definitely annoying.

“Only if it’s something I need to worry about.  Like you said I’m a cop and this is my town.”  She said it before thinking about just what the words meant.  Her town.  It was true and it was weird.  She’d never belonged in a place before.

“Is it illegal to carry around a box in these parts?”

“Yeah, totally,”  Emma said with an eyeroll.  “I don’t really care, as long as I know it’s nothing dangerous.”

“Depends on how you look at it.  Some people might say it’s one of the most dangerous things in the world.  I’ll make you a deal, though.”  He set down his coffee and turned more in the booth so he was looking straight at her.

“What?

“Let me buy you a drink sometime and I’ll tell you what’s inside.”

“You want to buy me a drink?”  He wasn’t bad looking, and was probably close to her age.  Not long ago the leather jacket and the air of impermanence might have been worth a drink and even a few nights before moving on.  Now, though, she thought of another leather jacket dripping dry on a coat rack and a ‘thank you’ that had almost been a goodbye.  Still, a promise to have a drink didn’t mean she was promising anything more.  Hell, it didn’t even mean she was drinking alone with him.

“Yes.”  His grin was amused and shallow.

“Okay. A drink it is.”  She crossed her arms, looking pointedly at the box beside him.  He lifted it up, took a key from his pocket and unlocked it.  Emma wasn’t sure what she was expecting but it wasn’t a typewriter.

“Really?  Sometimes dangerous?”  She shook her head.

“The power of the written word can change history and topple kingdoms.”  The line sounded rehearsed.

“So you’re a writer?  What does that have to do with Storybrooke?”  He didn’t look like her idea of a writer, but she’d never given it much thought.  Still she would have pegged someone like Archie as more of a writer, based on sweater vests alone.

“I find this place provides…” he glanced out the window.  “...inspiration. Don’t you?

“Wait. Have you been here before?”  She wasn’t sure she was comfortable with that.  Stranger wandering through and stopping for a bit was one thing.  Someone with a plan was another.

“I didn’t say that.”  It was a cagy answer.

“But…”

“Hey Emma.”  Focused on her conversation Emma didn’t hear Henry until he was running up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Hey kid.”  She wrapped one arm around him.  

“Did you see the tree that fell on Moncton Street?  Dad says it’s lucky it didn’t fall on a house or anything.”  

“Pretty lucky.”  Emma picked up her coffee cup.  “Let’s go get a table.  I’m starving.  Graham should be here soon.”

“Awesome.”  Henry dashed off to claim a booth.

“Don’t forget that drink,” the stranger said as she started to walk away.  Emma was sitting in her booth before she realized she hadn’t gotten his name.

II

“Dad let me have popcorn and ice cream last night.  And I got to stay up late to finish a second movie.  It was awesome.”  They walked home after breakfast, Henry chattering most of the way.  Emma was glad to see that Gold seemed to be walking easier now that the storm had passed.

“That sounds pretty cool.  Did you…”  Emma stopped as they turned the corner.  Henry’s castle was gone.  Two tall posts remained, but the rest of the boards were on the ground under a fallen tree.  Crap.

“Dad.”  Henry froze, color draining from his face.  “My castle.”

“I’m sorry, son.”  Gold wrapped his arms around the boy, cradling Henry’s head to his chest.  “We can build something new.  I know it won’t be the same but you can have a new castle.”

“I’m so sorry Henry.”  Emma stayed back, unsure what she should do.  After a moment she stepped forward and rested a hand on his shoulder.  They stood together until Henry was ready to continue home.

[destielfanfic]

Group Ask #179, part 1

Relevant links to find lost fic

previous group asks

spnstoryfinders

Guide to Finding Fic

Guide to Finding Lost Fic

Ask #1 ( @gothamteaparty): there’s this fic…#1

Hey there! I was hoping you could help me find a story I love? Dean is a witch hunter and Castiel, a witch. Michael and Lucifer are his older brothers. The Novak clan, coven, are famously evil. Dean kills Michael... Or one of cas's brothers. Dean and cas have a one night stand before they know who each other are witch-wise. Possibly a soulmate connection... Dean is a big jerk for a while. Castiel heals either sam or dean with alot of power and passes out and they leave him there. Thank you!

Ask #2 ( @mizrahis): there’s this fic…#2

hi, i've recently gotten back into spn and there's this fic i cannot find anywhere. I read it on ao3 and i think it was decently long and rated m. it's an au where castiel is the neighbors of the winchesters and destiel is a main pairing and bobby plays a pretty big role. i remember castiel getting into a fight with dean because someone made fun of his legs and someone crashed the impala. thank you for your time! 

Ask #3 ( ​@acklesradio): there’s this fic…#3

hi! so i already tried searching for this on your page but i couldn’t find it. i’m looking for this fic where i think castiel finds dean outside in the pouring rain and he’s sick so cas decides to take him inside castiel has two kids and his brother jimmy who visits, and dean’s family think’s he’s dead but they reunite slowly later on in the story! also they like have a beach house i think? or near the beach, something like that :)

Found by @lightmyway8527:  The House on the Ocean Road by coffeeandcas [NC-17, 111,300 word count] 

Dean Winchester is on the run from his life. He's done something unforgivable, and can't face his family or friends ever again. So he does what any rational person would do: fakes his own death and vanishes into the ether. Wandering aimlessly along country roads, he succumbs to the elements during a violent storm and wakes up hours later in the home of a stranger: a single dad living alone in an isolated beach house, with a haunting past of his own. Cas is sweet and shy, but welcomes Dean into his home and tells him he can stay as long as he needs, never prying into his life or asking him to spill his secrets. As they rapidly forge a close friendship, Dean finds that the quiet life by the ocean with Cas is exactly what he's been dreaming of. He only hopes his past never catches up with him.

Ask #4 (  @not-that-kind-of-novak ): there’s this fic…#4

Hello, I've looking for a fic that its Cas POV. The resume of the story begins with Cas telling Gabriel that him and Dean were true love, like fairy tail love. The fic tell about a young Cas and Dean, that go to college, and don't like each other very much but end up together. Later it tells the story of Dean and Cas marriage and the divorce because Lisa and Ben. Then after that Cas becomes a very famous writer that is invited to a Comic Con Sorry if all this is not very well writed. THANK YOU 

Ask #5 ( @ahoneyfox ):  there’s this fic…#5

Hey, love this blog and the work you do! So I'm looking for a specific fic. Cas used to be married to Daphne and they have a daughter (Claire) Cas is a college professor. Dean and Cas get together and eventually end up in a d/s relationship, Dean as the sub. There is a specific scene where Bobby goes into hospital and Sam barges into Dean and Cas's place interrupting a scene. I think Cas may be Sam's prof at one point. Thanks!

Found by @lightmyway8527:

Florence ‘verse by ShastaFirecracker [T/M/NC-17, 153,000 word count]

(summary of part 1)  Castiel Novak, anthropology professor and recent divorcee; a half-drunk hookup with the bartender from his brother's bachelor party; cue the morning after, with full attendant nudity, awkwardness, walking into doors, and running into one of his students at the worst possible time.

Ask #6 ( @winkss):  there’s this fic…#6

Hello! Can you help me find this fic? The story's about amnesiac dean that can recover his memories about everything but not cas because they had a fight before the car accident i think, and it's established destiel. Thanks!

Found by @asanctumofstarfish:

Thanks for the Memories by palominopup [NC-17, 20,300 word count]

After an accident, Dean is in a coma. When he awakes, he has no memory of his loving relationship with Cas. In Dean's mind, he's a hunter, his father is missing, his mother was killed by a demon and Sammy quit Stanford to go on the road with him to search for their father. In reality, Dean is a mechanic, his lover is a book editor, they were planning to be married.

Ask #7 ( @hellplim ):  there’s this fic…#7

Hi! I've been looking for this fic like crazy, and i saw that your blog actually helps to find destiel fics (and i saw some that interested me) Basically John goes to Sam looking for Dean, and both of them discover that Dean has been lying to both of them and that he is married to Castiel! If you have any idea of the fanfic, i would be very happy, if you don't it's okay too!

Ask #8 ( @pineapple-tribble-squad ): there’s this fic…#8

I'm looking for a destiel fic I read years ago that I can't find anywhere. I think post leviathan!cas, maybe 30k words. Cas "dies" and chooses a woman's body as a vessel to return to Dean and Sam, not telling them he's Cas. Dean sees similar looks but thinks Cas is dead. Whenever fem!Cas touches the hand mark on Dean's shoulder, Dean has REALLY strong reactions. At some point Dean kisses fem!Cas in an alleyway and puts her hand over the mark. Fem!Cas is maybe 1/3 of the fic, the rest he's male. 

[ckcker]

Unpaid Intern

Watch, as eagle mistakes abandoned diaper for baby dall sheep carcass on video.  Giggle, divided into thirds.  Watch in a room that smells of must-see.  An unrelaxed giggle, a well-placed giggle.  Giggle for two.  

Template: Eerie Light — an unrelaxed dreamer.  Broken-hearted moobs, real under a giggle.  Real and rancid as a crushed Peep between mattress and wall. Memories of a crushed Peep en route.  Unglanced moobs of a dreamer.  SNAFU of crushed Peep.  Mold untold, heartpinged violence for an air-bulged dreamer.  Thin sneeze of a repressed dreamer, pining for an evil attitude.  FUBAR of indolence.  Stare into a SNAFU and sprint at a reckoning.  

The moobs are prepared for the group.  The giggle is prepared for the moobs. Watching a story of the body.  

The giggle is released.

On what the past several years of drifting have taught me.  Fear can take up a lot of time, drifting has no built-in revelations.  My unpaid internship.  A long pause for no revelations.  I would not want to watch a horror movie where the protagonist is already enlightened and so does not care if they live or die.  No reason for an audience to follow along.  But, good for the protagonist, that is a very mature mindset.  When it comes the gore will feel very peaceful.  As a young child walking with her mother says “hi” to me on the sidewalk and she walks by.  I smile involuntarily and say “hello” back.  The progression of knife-picked thoughts is, under this sudden sweetness, compressed and stowed.  The child has ordered me to engage with the surroundings and respond and smile.  I continue to walk home and for four of those five minutes continue to feel this way, reeling with the pleasant surprise.  Shivering with the undreamt-of giggle.  

Under such conditions did I find myself thinking of Rob somewhat rapidly as I turned the block of my apartment building; it felt like a moment to agitate some details.  He was a hedonist of indeterminate sexuality and indeterminate politics.  He had multiple young friends who were fond of wearing very specific t-shirts.  He worked as an unpaid intern for a company with an indeterminate name, maybe, Personal Options?  He had trouble explaining the tasks of this unpaid internship.  He arrived at a term he made up that one notices him to believe is professional enough: Visual Indexer.  He would say this in a way that communicated an unforeseen weakness to one day appear to others as “professional.”  Beyond this tragic motive, there was no indication anywhere else that entering a realm of prepared hierarchies and the collection of strangers’ respect was at all an interest.  He had the impulsive life pus flooding a young person who has that corrective obsession with the massacre of all infectious traditional boundaries.  Often this had taken the form of the most cheerful defenestration.  As if Rob and his friends regularly made the plan to collect any abandoned objects in the neighborhood of a certain base weight on their way back to our apartment complex and, come drink time, freely pirouette-launch the janky wares from the balcony.  

The neighbors did not seem to care, how could I not be jealous, I was one pathetic moan too old to feel that form of relief.  I touched the extreme upper bridge of my nose which was sore from having accidentally planted it at high speed on the top edge of my slightly angled-in laptop when reaching beyond it to grab a 4 x 6 photo of myself from my late teens.  I thought it a good sign that I was so unconsciously prepared to pummel my face — could it mean that, when that liberating moment finally trembled my way, I would have 100% lack of regret in the irreversible ripening of my useless young flesh?  I could only hope so.  I could also only hope it was as irreversible a procedure as I had imagined it, I often needed to remind myself that I had absolutely no understanding of science.  Indeed Rob’s friend Q.C. had once worn a black t-shirt with a graphic of a beretta on it and underneath it the writing, “ONE SIZE FITS ALL.”  I could not know the tone with which he wore it.  Rob was a Visual Indexer, I did find the term interesting.  The 4 x 6 print of myself was one of many laying on my water-stained table.  Portraits of myself at various ages, alone, printed at a very popular national pharmacy that also sold algae-encrusted vegan turmeric chips and had wine tastings every Friday from 5-7. Portraits at 16, 23, 25, 19, 26, 19, 21, I had the idea to tape them on my wall, sit against them with my eyes closed, and take photos of myself, to try to trace a timeline.  I would close my eyes to perform that I was feeling deeply.  In this photo of myself at 16, I had just a few questions about what is possible.  In this photo of myself at 23, I am apparently cross-eyed.  In this photo of myself at 19, a noticeable uptick in moobs.  

One of Rob’s friends, Bianca (who once, in my presence, and against the seeming silent contract between Rob and his other friends, asked him how he had enough money to live alone when he didn’t make any money at his internship and had no other job, and to which Rob did not even try to respond but only left the room mimicking an animatronic Halloween decoration witch laugh) had told a story of her teen years where, emboldened by some older users in a chatroom she compulsively frequented, used to scream non-white racial slurs at white people shopping at Target and Kohl’s and yell “dyke” and “faggot” at hetero couples holding hands in the street.  Though she told these anecdotes in a withdrawn and ashamed performance, she must have recognized how they might impress her group of friends who could only laugh at the altogether untraditional, societally unacceptable and, bottom line wacky behavior of their friend, who now seemed to be a reverent, committed radical anarchist that, when waiters weren’t looking, ate leftover food from plates less committed people abandoned at various restaurants.  How would I ever save enough money to look peerless and decrepit?  In this photo of myself at 21, a genuine smile, so wild it would seem I am kidding.

With some cheap make-up also bought at the pharmacy that had wine tastings, I had begun to stealthily repair my thriving fat eyebrows with highlights of white, probably only noticeable to me but done in the hopes that the powerful undertone would inch towards a different reception of my face when it was in conversation.  “Nice to meet you” the young video director had said to the middle-aged CEO, they shook hands and the CEO said, “it’s nice to be met.” Upon being introduced to Bianca one afternoon — despite my control system being against the idea of leaving my eremitic pouch, increasingly I found myself accepting invitations to Rob’s apartment — I had carefully prepared these brows blanched in the white of the faintest melting snowflake and so felt just a smidge-stain more futurist and directed.  Just one look at my altered face and people could conclude, “there is nothing different” though I hoped for, “there is nothing different?”  Bianca had looked at my face, I assumed she had never seen it before, we shook hands and her grip was severe.  Her face smiled.  Perhaps one of these elements was meant as a distraction from the other.  There was no comment from Bianca or even lingering-and-falling eye pointed towards my one-sixty-forth-assed aging attempt.  Though he was not there that day, I surprised myself by pulling up badly remembered thoughts of Q.C., as Bianca and Rob discussed the new urban development of a neighborhood that was a couple miles away.  I thought I had remembered the shape of his face and at least the shade of brown in his eyes.  But inevitably, my attempts to display a likeness in my mind were shaved down, and major facial characteristics uncontrollably replaced with the swiftly recalled appearance of a now-grown-and-unsuccessful child star I never had the option not to know or recognize.  I thought, ‘the more I see of Q.C. the more I will be able to remember of him when I am alone.’  Such projects brought their own gore, pah, the gore of worry, the worry I will be derailed.  It wasn’t my place to let myself get in the way of my own revenge.  The most grotesque escape.  This is the strategy, sadness reappears as logistics.  

I was not here to re-engage the viability of my young-ish body for the scarfing of others, I was here to become a vibe-threatening vision of near-death for the rest of my burgeoning life and also I was here to watch the yearly romantic elder comedy starring actresses and actors such as Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson.  I was just bent by the way his shoulders filled out the black t-shirt with a beretta on the front, when glanced at with his face turned away.  There is no choice but to notice.  “A new condo with several stories is being built just down the block from where I am taking improv classes,” Bianca tells us.  “And next to it I think there’s going to be some big retail store with a giant parking lot.”  “Ok,” Rob suggests, “let’s just say ‘that’s fucked up’ and continue.”

[sanerontheinside]

Written for @caffeinewitchcraft‘s caffeine challenge! 

[Prompt: A story told from the POV of someone who’s not part of the hero’s journey. No, their role is much worse. They’re the hero’s tragic backstory and they realize it a week before their death.]

* 

He came to study with me in the winter, when the snows had crawled down from the caps and frozen and dried my garden. I wasn’t sure what he expected to learn from me, in this dormant time of year, before he knew his herbs and beetles. I told him so, and sent him down to the cellar to learn from the dried plants and the old books.

Not a single university-educated bone in the boy’s body. Which was partly just as well—those children think they know so much. But they only teach certain things at universities these days, and I’m not all that keen on teaching complex geometries myself. Then come the lunar orbits and the rotations of other celestial bodies nearby, and the interactions of plants, and drying and heating and—

And that’s if you’re lucky enough to find a student who knows the world does not revolve around them, but around a burning celestial flame. Alchemy is a complex art, built on everything at once. It’s the making of magic from science and maths, exploring the chaos within the order, and not the reverse. It isn’t for the faint of heart. 

But he came with the recommendation of his village’s witch, a practical woman and an old friend. I suppose that’s the best I could expect, if I’d ever wanted a student.

(I didn’t).

She talked me into it anyway. In a letter. Awful wench, not even the decency to do it in person.

Addie has always had what I had not—a way with people, of inspiring trust and warmth. Or rather: one day I stopped trying, and discovered an immense freedom in speaking my mind. I lost my place as the court physician, and no longer had to curry to the whims of my betters. I lost my friends, and realised they’d never been friends to me at all.

I found Addie barely a month after that. I discovered the person I had once wanted to be, alive and well and thriving out in the great wide world, whereas I had felt throttled and sidelined since the day I came into the city.

He reminded me of you, she wrote. He sees that the world is broken and wants so very badly to fix it.

“And he thinks alchemy is the way to do that?” I muttered aloud in my kitchen.

Yes, he wants the power of this gift; he still thinks that power is the way to fix things. Yes, I know it should frighten me, you may keep your grumbly lecture.

I know you will not let him abuse your art.

Addie would never steer me wrong. 

And she knew how to throw down a challenge, which certainly never hurt.

Her protégé was worthy of her praise. He learned fast, and he had a knack for it, much to my surprise. Instead of learning his herbs and beetles he sat that and charted and muttered and cross-referenced my many old books. Corrected half the Celestial Atlas in tiny marginalia. Found my old journals where I’d done my own calculations, and started studying those instead. 

It is rare to have a student so willing and stubborn. Patient enough that he will wait for you to warm up to him, certain of his charm. He cared for my goats and chickens, kept my hearth clean, fixed my rickety gate and dusted the shelves. If nothing else, it was good to have the company. 

And on late nights, the sky was high and clear, and he argued about the paths of the celestial flames with me, and argued about what it was that the gods were burning. Clever boy—I could see why Addie liked him. He told such fine stories, when he was finally sure I would listen. 

He was hopeful. He was hopeful and certain and brilliantly clear in a way that I no longer was. He had a purpose and a belief, a fire lit from within. Sitting beside him on the long solstice nights, I felt like the cold of these mountain winters had seeped into my very bones. Or perhaps it was the cold and damp of the city and the king’s court, and I’d never really warmed through, even after all these years tending to my own, comfortable, clean fire. 

Maybe he would burn strong enough for it to last. Maybe he could go out into the world, even down into the city, and light the way for better days. He was already so serious and so solemn, sometimes. He had the makings of that patient, constant force that whittles away stone and marks the passage of time with no more than an absent gesture. 

And he made me miss one plucky village witch. Made me feel the way I had when I first met her, and realised that someone like her truly could exist. That unforgettable feeling, like filling your lungs full with air so cold and sharp and rarified that it feels like your heart might burst. They’ll be the death of me, I sometimes think, with their kind and solemn eyes, their unearthly patience. 

* 

Spring came, cold and grey and eerily still. I’d begun to send the boy out to the mountainsides, to investigate what enterprising young things had sprouted, what had braved the first thaw and would likely die the next frost, for Winter hadn’t quite finished with our corner of the world just yet. He wasn’t much for herbal lore, though I could tell Addie had tried to teach him. 

We get few travelers in these parts; the ones who are lost rarely make it this far, and the locals try to avoid me. They’re not too overfond of mages, never mind that alchemists aren’t any such thing (well, only peripherally). A village witch succeeds in part because she can convince the villagers that she is harmless, and I have never been able to do any such thing. 

They know. They only come to me when there is no one else to help them. A child sick with fever whom even the mages could not save, a plague among the cattle—these are the things that overcome the bounds of any fear. 

I did not take the boy with me for this. 

It was sheer misery: bitter cold and stillborn foals, cattle poisoned by polluted water. I was asked to do what even a mage couldn’t fix. There was one in the town’s inn, still, unwilling to give up or admit defeat. He looked haggard. It takes much from a being, tending to the fevered and the ailing. 

But where a mage goes to the cattle, I go first to the water. 

This is not what we called you for, the elders tell me. 

“But you called me, so allow me to do my work.” To purify, to separate out what they cannot see is killing them. 

This is what I would not have that young boy see: the way they shy from me. Maybe they will never hide from him, because he is not like me. He draws people to himself without so much as thinking of it. But I do not wish for him to ever see this gift we share as a thing of which to be ashamed. 

“I remember you,” the mage said to me one day. “I saw you once, in the city. You were a member of the king’s court.” 

The chill wind rippled across my back. 

“You were well known for your work. We studied it, in my school.” 

“That’s very flattering,” I said, still wary. 

He chuckled. “Hardly. You were renowned, and a Master at the University, read around the kingdom.” 

“I was renowned, and a Master at the University, and they burned my books when I left the city,” I told him. 

It had taken me days to realise that he was actually quite young. Perhaps he did not know the story—how I left, and why. 

Some days I still regard it as a terrible mistake. Days like this, when I am up to my elbows in poisoned water and pushed to the limit of my tolerance for cold stares. Days when I remember Addie’s patience, and the patience of that boy looking after my hearth and my goats, waiting for me to teach him. 

I felt—these days, very often—that it was my greatest failure. How could I have dared to turn around and throw away everything I’d ever worked for? How could I, when I’d already done so much? 

The mage frowned at me. “My school did not burn your books. Our Masters told us about you. You were... remarkable. I’ve always wanted to meet you.” 

“Ah.” I shrugged, and squinted at my work. “Well, you know what they say about meeting one’s heroes.” 

I bent down to fix the water filter into place. It was still too difficult to do, I couldn’t possibly expect the women of this town to have the time to fiddle with this thing as much as I had... 

“I do,” he said. I heard him rise from my workbench, and move toward the door. “They’re far better in person.” 

By the time I looked up again, he was gone. 

* 

The villagers paid me what I asked, with dark looks and hand-signs to avert evil. How kind of them, I think to myself with the slightest of smiles, to wish me on my way well-protected from meddling spirits. 

The mage walked with me to the village boundary, still asking me about the filters, how to use them, where to put them. It was a strange thing, to enjoy teaching once again. Despite the misery of that place, I left it feeling a little lighter. 

Just not for very long. 

As I mounted the last hill between me and home I discovered that my hands were shaking. My heart raced too fast. Surely, I grumbled, I cannot be that old. 

The cold sweat and the sudden gripping fear was what propelled me forward. The blinding terror made me run, dropping my satchels and precious tools haphazard on still-frozen ground. 

There are rules that any mountain-dweller knows. You do not cross the path of certain things, you do not speak to masters of the mountain. If something speaks to you, you are polite, but you do not leave your answer open to another question. 

You don’t invite a stranger in. 

Rarely is there anything that wanders in these parts looking to make mischief. But young magicians are forever a target for such beings. Especially those of great potential. 

The shadows are a hungry thing, here among the ice and rock, but no shadow can abide a fire. I sent embers spewing from my hearth, threw a rain of sparks through the unnaturally dark room. They fell upon the shadow-creature and it did not burn, but it pulled its tendrils tight, as if in pain. By the faint light I could just make out the child’s pale and frightened face—

—and the fine-scaled golden features of the thing that hovered over him. 

Another rule: you do not show your fear. Oh, it smells fear on the wind—but you do not show it. 

“There is a sign on my gate, and a rune on my door, and even the goats in my yard would have told you that you are not welcome. It is time for you to depart.” 

It bared its teeth at me in something like a smile, wrapped the dark about itself and vanished without a word. 

Too easy. 

“Achim.” 

The boy was curled in on himself in the corner, so small. 

With a sigh, I crossed to the table and picked up my kettle. I set it to heat, and banished the soot from my floors. There was something to be said for heat and sweetness and spice, after such things. I approached him slowly and crouched down to tuck a blanket about his curved shoulders. “Achim, look at me.” 

I nudged his chin up until I could see his eyes. “It isn’t coming back.”

“It—told me I could never—run far enough,” he stammered out through chattering teeth. 

“And I’m telling you that I keep my word. Any being that does not keep to the contract is one you can bring low. This is your first lesson, child.” 

First, and perhaps the last. 

He watched me, wide-eyed, as I set the table. Watched me as evening fell. Watched me clean and hum and read until he fell asleep. 

And when I was sure he did not dream, I pulled my shawl about my shoulders, and walked out the door to the edge of my grounds, to the garden gate that he had fixed for me. 

The creature was still lurking there. 

Actually, it loitered, rather as if it owned the place. It had a vaguely human shape, though of course appearance was the last thing you could trust. It leaned against the fence as if propped up at hip and elbow, lounging like an uninvited lover at the gate. The cloak of shadows hung from its shoulders, hood fallen free of the being’s head. 

Mischief-maker, quicksilver trickster. People used to come up all this way into the mountains, searching for gold. There were stories of the yellow demon they saw glimmers of in the mountain streams. 

“You are owed nothing. You came onto my lands at the invitation of one who did not even own them. Why do you linger?” 

“He is young and powerful,” the golden creature said, “and the future that awaits him must not be.” 

Another, less acknowledged rule: such beings are old and powerful, and if they speak of troubled times, perhaps it is worth a listen. Perhaps, or perhaps not. It is certainly a folly to ignore such warnings. The being that delivers it is never one that cares for your wellbeing. But if it worries for its own, then you may be sure: a mortal will not survive what follows. 

“What future do you see?" 

“Death to the mages and witches,” it said, without hesitation. “He will do what is right, he will bring light into the darkness, as you believe him capable of doing. But with that light, great unintended evils will spread through the world. The extinction of those who use magic, those who are magic, is not a change that this world can sustain.” 

“And I suppose you are here out of enlightened self-interest,” I blurted, and cursed myself for my thoughtless mouth. 

The being only smiled. 

“That boy has a better chance than most,” I rallied. “He has a gift, and it isn’t just his magic or his knowledge. He has a chance at gaining enough wisdom to keep it in balance.”

“Maybe so. But you have always known that your faith is not enough to save anyone. Sometimes, there is simply nothing that you can do.” 

I leaned heavily against the gatepost. “And if you know so much of me, you know I cannot let you take him. Because you have to try.” 

That Achim should have come to me—that Addie should have sent him here—was a chance as slim as starfall landing in one’s yard. I had discovered not long afterward that the King had set his hounds to thinning out the ranks of learned folk outside the city. Achim’s parents had died for “spreading lies”—insisting that the factories had tainted the village water—and the only thing that saved their son was that he’d been practicing a little bit of simple trick-magic at Addie’s fire. 

I must have been among the first to fall in the King’s war on the educated, five years ago. One of the learned folk whose names had been used to justify the slaughter of traitors, snobs, and liars—the evil that would bring the kingdom down. 

Those who did not leave the city, as I had, had simply been murdered. 

“Name a different price,” I told the shadow-creature from the mountains, and it laughed. 

“A price for what? I did not come here for a deal.” 

“Yet you will make one, because I have asked it of you,” I said. “I will abandon my charges no longer. So you will tell me what the price is for me to keep them safe.” 

“Them,” the creature echoed, and raised a golden eye-ridge. “Who are they?” 

The people I left behind in the city. The boy I refused to teach for so long, and now might never really get a chance to teach at all. Addie and that tired, curious mage who still thought me a hero. 

The being stared at me. 

“Come out, fair lady, dance with me,” the golden creature said at last with a wide, inhuman grin, and stretched out a long-clawed hand. “I find yours is a better mind to dance with than a child’s.” 

I laughed, terrified, because I did not know what else to do. “That is your offer?” 

Dancing, what was that supposed to mean? 

It twitched its shoulders, like a shrug, and pointed up at the moon. “Until it turns, you have time to think on it.” It made a show of straightening out, dusting off its sleeves, and turned to go. “Seven nights, I believe, and remember that they grow ever shorter.”

“Wait! How am I not abandoning anyone if I am off—dancing?” 

There were tales of diaphanous things dancing on the mountain winds, through the shadows in the canyons. The souls of dead climbers, some still think. There were stories of souls that danced with death. I had always thought the truth must be somewhere in between. 

This wasn’t quite what I’d had in mind, however. 

The being looked over its shoulder, and blinked at me, slowly, like a mountain cat. “The only truth you know of what lies beyond this place is that you can’t return to where you’ve been. You do not step into the same water twice in a mountain stream, Tali, yet you have never made the mistake of thinking that there is nothing beyond the stream.”

Between one breath and the next, the creature vanished. 

I stayed and watched the moon for a long time, too numb to feel the cold. I thought, I’d never given you my name. 

No—I don’t remember giving you my name. 

I wasn’t sure which thought was the more terrifying. 

Back in the house behind me, a young boy slept a dreamless sleep. In response to a nameless, shapeless threat against him, I’d thrown all caution to the winds, somehow bargained with my life. All in the name of a potential none could grasp. 

And with a being that had the advantage of me, no less. 

I won’t be able to teach him, I thought, and dropped that regret like a stone at the gate; one of those smooth, small stones that weighs far more than it looks like it ought to. Another rounded, heavy stone: I won’t be the one to watch him grow. 

I’d waited too long, again. Old fool, still making the same mistakes as always. 

I had a week to get my old journals in order. At least, as a university master, I’d been an obsessive scribe for my own affairs. 

* 

There was a tale I once heard, about a woman who learned the name of the fae that she’d entered into a bargain with, and that was what freed her from their deal. I did not recall making a deal with anything. 

But then, I did once somewhat carelessly offer my heart and soul in exchange for being permitted to learn the secrets of the universe... 

[totalmultistantrash]

master list

i run a bunch of different blogs but since this is my multi blog, this masterlist will include all of my fics across all of my blogs! groups are listed in alphabetical order. i’ll probably add more groups at some point lol.

[15:35] • San Smut(ish) Drabble [07:52] • Wooyoung Smut(ish) Drabble

THE SWEETEST FRUIT

Demon San AU

A mysterious boy appears to you one night, and he promises you something absolutely delicious. But will it be worth everything he asks in return? And what brought him here in the first place? Something doesn’t seem right...

Preview

The Pleasure Collection • DOPE Era Smut

1. The Art of Seduction

Navy Member Yoongi AU

You finally see Yoongi after his six years of service in the navy and he’s so much more attractive than you remember. Now that you’re grown, you’re determined to make him yours.

Read Here

2. If You Insist

Police Officer Jungkook AU

After being targeted by the criminal that has been kidnapping young women across the city, you meet a certain police officer who makes it his sole mission to protect you.

Read Here & Epilogue

3. Temptation (Jimin)

Office Worker Jimin AU

He was the love of your life, and one day he disappeared without a word. Nearly a decade later, he returns, and nothing in the world could prepare you for the whirlwind of being Park Jimin’s boss.

Read Here

THE WITCHING

Adventure AU • Series (Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, and Seokjin)

With the help of four boys, you fight to find a way out of the mysterious town in which you are trapped, discovering secrets that you should never learn and being haunted by an unforgiving evil.

Part 1 • More Coming Soon

TTYL

Idol/Camgirl AU • Taehyung Smut Series

An incredible amount of luck leads to an unforgettable experience on a video-chat website with a sexy stranger.

Part 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 - Completed

The Space Between

Photographer AU • Taehyung Almost Smut Oneshot

You meant for it to be a simple photoshoot. But with the unexpected language barrier, the shoot becomes more physical than anticipated. And you had no idea what kind of affect this gorgeous stranger would have on you.

Read Here

Shelter From The Storm

First Time/Stuck In A Cabin AU • Yoongi Smut Series

After intentionally isolating yourself for years, you somehow end up inviting a complete stranger into your very small, very cozy home for a long, rainy weekend. Maybe there’s a reason he got lost on your land; maybe you need him just as much as he needs you.

Part 1 • 2 • More Coming Soon

Heat Wave

Boyfriend AU • Yoongi Bondage Smut Oneshot

Your boyfriend has made a habit of tying you up, and you couldn’t possibly refuse him.

Read Here

London Fog

Secret Admirer AU • Yoongi Fluff Oneshot

He works at a coffee shop. She works at a tea shop. Maybe it’s true what they say about opposites attracting.

Read Here

Tilted

Robot AU • Yoongi Fluff Drabble

For something so mechanical, she truly was made of pure joy, an eternal beacon of hope and wishful thinking. He wanted to survive, but she wanted to live.

Read Here

If You Insist (Epilogue)

Police Officer AU • Jungkook Smut Drabble

You excitedly dash home after a long day of classes - this is the first night in weeks that your boyfriend is home and you intend to take full advantage of it.

Note: This is an EPILOGUE. Please read If You Insist first!

Read Here

Don’t You Dare Hold Back

Masseuse AU • Namjoon Smut Oneshot

Get ready. You’re about to have the best massage of your life.

Read Here

Hot for Teacher

College AU • Hongseok/Kino/Wooseok x Reader Smut Series

You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

Part 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • More Coming Soon

Ask My Muses: Hot for Teacher

Roommates

Roommates AU • Changgu Smut Oneshot

You’ve been best friends with Changgu for forever. But can you really be content with being just friends when you become roommates?

Read Here

All The Time In The World

Soulmates AU • Yanan Fluff Oneshot

Ever since you were little, you’d heard about soulmates. You’d been told that there was one person, just a single soul out of the seven billion on the planet, that was meant to join with yours. But how long would it take for you to Connect?

Read Here

Imagines/Drabbles

Boyfriend Habits • Pentagon Imagine

Amusement Park Date • Hyunggu Fluff Imagine

Just A Thought • Hongseok Fluff Drabble

Do As You Please • Changgu Smut(ish) Drabble

The Boy Who Stole Your Heart

Idol Boyfriend AU • Chan Smut/Fluff Oneshot

in which your boyfriend returns from war tour

Read Here

Last updated: 11/28/2019

[crazynekochan]

(Let’s call this Fairytale au. Same Universe as the last few)

When Sonia was born, her parents knew that they had to make sure she would be safe, so they specifically invited all of the fairies in the realm (the local evil fairy got three separate invites, just in case one got lost and one of the messengers gets too drunk to deliver) to her christening and asked them to give her blessings. 

The evil fairy (Don’t know enough about the extended DR universe to find one, your pick) decided that the blessing they would give was an apprenticeship in sorcery, so that she could learn magic when she grew older. Luckily, Sonia was absolutely fascinated by magic and, when she grew old enough, took up the apprenticeship offer eagerly.

As an apprentice to a technically evil (more of a true neutral, bordering neutral evil) fairy, Sonia learned self defense spells, healing spells, and guardian spells, which was a great boon whenever a pompous fool claiming to be a knight showed up to try to attack her boss whenever the boss was out. This is also how she and Gundham met and became friends, as Gundham was also working for the fairy after his mother died (he’s just started the Overlord of Ice persona).

Finally, they both complete their apprenticeships and, as Gundham doesn’t have a home anymore, Sonia invites him to stay with her. On the way back to her kingdom, they got caught in a storm and decide to spend the night at an inn along the road.

While having dinner and making plans for the next morning, Sonia notices that there is a young woman in a dark cloak with bandages on her hands sitting alone at a table near the corner, just watching them. So Sonia, who is still a bit naive, goes up to her to try and talk. 

The young woman (Kyoko, by the way, but she hasn’t given her name), is clearly slightly flustered, but she does manage some polite talk, saying that she’s searching for some medicine for her father. Sonia asks what exactly is wrong with her father, as she and Gundham (who was still at their original table and rather confused as to why Sonia is pointing at him while talking to a stranger) know quite a bit about illnesses and could help him out.

Kyoko agrees and the next morning Sonia and Gundham follow Kyoko to her hometown, a city famous for scholars and intellectuals (Only a little bit away from Novoselic, luckily). When they get to the massive citadel that is pretty much the Library of Alexandria on magic steroids, Sonia and Gundham are immediately fangirl-ing on the inside.

Kyoko brings them to a bedroom within the citadel, very deep within the walls and with two guards standing watch outside the doors. The guards greet her as Lady Kirigiri, which is when they find out that the girl they’ve been following this whole time is part of a family that is one of the most avid magical crime investigation families in the realm.

Kyoko gives them the run down: her father was investigating rumors of black magic and disappearances in the local university (the citadel they’re in). Turns out, it was a cult that was kidnapping and draining magic from the students so that they could bring the demon they worship into this plane and kickstart the apocalypse. Her father stopped their ritual before they could finish it, and got the cult arrested, but ended up partially possessed by the demon. She set out to find one of the local fairies, who had enough power that the could banish the demon, or at least get advice on how because by this point they’ve tried everything that couldn’t kill her father in the process.

Sonia isn’t confident they could help, since by this point the prognosis is pretty grim, but they decide to give it the old college try. They head inside and see that the room is pretty close to totaled, with only a salt line about a meter/3 feet in radius from the door keeping it from going out to the rest of the citadel. The man himself is pacing furiously, growling and emitting a dark aura. He suddenly turns and Sonia and Gundham can see that he looks terrifying, with dark black scales that covered his face except for glowing purple eyes and jet black feathers going his arms to end in wicked looking talons. 

He approaches the edge of the salt, grinning with teeth like Kazuichi’s but sharper and far more of them than there should be in a human mouth, asking Kyoko in a voice that sounds like hundreds of people are speaking who the new people are, in a tone that is clearly “I could let you live or slaughter you immediately, depends on my mood”.

Kyoko states in a firm voice that Sonia and Gundham are there to help him. The man snorts dismissively (since they’re both really young) and, because Kyoko has had this conversation about a dozen times before with the same result, she cues Sonia and Gundham to begin their procedures.

Sonia and Gundham quickly invoke shielding spells around themselves and get to work on an incredibly powerful banishing spell (needs either a fairy, incredibly powerful witch/wizard, or at least two mages to properly pull off). The demon immediately recognizes the spell and tries to distract them, first by asking them what they’re doing, then by trying to actively break out then by using massive magic that nearly destroys the room, but they still don’t falter and the spell goes off without a hitch, banishing the demon and leaving only a rather confused and tired Jin Kirigiri.

Jin immediately hugs his daughter, since he thought he’d never see her again after the ritual went wrong, and Kyoko, though surprised for a moment, hugs him back. Right after, he asks what the heck happened and Kyoko tells him that he got partially possessed and Sonia and Gundham banished the demon (what she did not tell him was that when she tried to banish the demon the first time, he let off a spout of hellfire that badly burned her hands).

A grateful Jin tells Sonia and Gundham that they could have whatever they wished from his household. Gundham got a bunch of horses from the family stable and Sonia brought Kyoko home as her girlfriend.

A few years later, Kyoko and Sonia decided to get married and Gundham went off to work as a travelling breeder. And they stayed happily married for many years hence.

(A/N: Forget what I said last time. THIS one took forever to write. Yes, I did try to tie it back to the first part of this AU, but I rushed the ending a bit since I’ve spent several hours trying to write this submission. Please leave some feedback!)

(Mod: While it may took you longer, it really shows how much thought you put in it. I loved the turn of theme from the light-hearted magic apprenticeship to a demon banishing. The way you also pulled in the Kirigiris jobs as detectives is clever. I also like how you put in how Sonia and Gundham came to be friends, it’s a nice touch)

[kamino-ink]

Flumadiddle | Yang Jeongin

✧  flumadiddle - utter nonsense

✧ Genre: Fantasy!au, fluff, angst, can you tell jeongin is my bias??

✧ Summary: jeongin has always been your other half, the person you called your soulmate; even if there had never been romance involved between the two of you. yet when he simply picks up and leaves worcaster, you can’t help but wonder what happened, and if you’ll ever see him again.

✧ Word Count: 1.9k

✧ Other installments in the series: woojin, chan, hyunjin, changbin, minho, jisung, felix, seungmin

✧ PSA!! this part references a few facts from the chan installment, so I suggest reading his before this one so you can fully understand the concepts i’m referencing!

                                         ✧

 home was wherever yang jeongin was, you decided one night, curled into his side as the two of you sat beneath the stars on a lone hill

worcaster had always been a place to you; just because you happened to grow up there didn't mean it was really your home

home was supposed to feel warm, inviting, and comforting - worcaster was simply the cobblestone paths you walked upon each day, the occasional lemon tree surrounded by poorly made houses of lose planks and rickety stairs

but the entire time you had someone there to be your pillar of support, someone who would make you laugh and curse loudly in surprise when he suddenly picked you up and threw you onto his back so he could carry you across the desolate train tracks, long since abandoned in favor of traveling by horseback and pegasus

the night you decided yang jeongin was home, you two had been feasting on some wild berries and playfully started to squish them in favor of splattering the colorful insides onto each other’s bodies, sure to stain your rags for clothes

after you both had settled down you’d curled up under one of his skinny arms, resting your head just on his chest with his own head resting on top of yours

“hey, y/n?”

“yeah, jeongin?”

“I want to leave this place one day,” he muttered quietly, “go somewhere I can just... be myself and do my research freely.”

you hummed in agreement, knowing just how much the boy wanted to get out of the poor town in favor of going somewhere with tons of wildlife and the like - he had always adored animals of all kinds, big and small

“well whenever that happens, don’t forget to bring me with you, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, peaches.”

“you better not, melonhead.”

“can I please have a cute, normal nickname-”

“never.”

and then he was gone one day - he just... vanished

you remember how hurt you were, how wet your eyes started to become when you had asked his parents why he hadn’t been attending class lately, worried he had fallen ill

but they told you that he had asked their permission to leave home, stating that they had done the same thing when they were his age

although they were as baffled as you were, because according to them, jeongin was adamant on dragging you with him out of that hellish place

so...why hadn’t he kept his promise?

you don’t recall another time where you had just broken down the way you did, slumping down on their poorly constructed front porch with the people you considered a second family rushing to comfort you

because you couldn't leave, not yet, anyway

jeongin had jokingly said it was a bunch of flumadiddle; a load of nonsense - you didn't have to finish school, but you knew you wanted to, needed to

while you admired jeongin for defying the shitty education system in the kingdom, you knew you didn't have the guts to follow him to wherever he had gone so quickly

you needed to have something as a backup plan, that was just how you had always been

so you stayed in worcaster for another three months, each lonely day ticking by slowly without your best friend there to make you laugh

to make you smile

to make you... happy

but finally you had gotten out of school with flying colors, choosing to stick to the plan you and jeongin had been working out since you were practically kids;

you were to be a great journalist, writing articles on the beasts he would be researching - hopefully growing to such a status that you both could have a clipping in the papers so that other kids and adults could see the beauty in all creatures

not just the domesticated ones

you held a tearful goodbye with your family, hugging them close and fiddling anxiously with the tattered bag plush against your backside, filled with books, quills, ink, and general supplies

you were to go to a little town called arbington, down south of worcaster

it was at the tip of the kingdom, one of the known borders with another country that had always been a sister to your home country

you borrowed a map from jeongin’s parents, who told you to tell their boy that they missed him dearly and, whatever he was doing, they were proud of him

travelling on foot was difficult, to say the least

you could’ve purchased a horse for yourself, but they were mighty expensive and you weren’t exactly the best with animals

jeongin was the one gifted with the ability to become one with creatures of all kind, you were just the girl that observed and used your words to magnify how wonderful the beasts were

each day was harder than the next, with many an obstacle popping out of nowhere

one time you had been tracking through a forest when a group of burly, scary looking soldiers started to interrogate you, believing that you were far too young to be wandering alone

then another boy, maybe a year older than you, quite literally appeared out of thin air next to you, donning midnight black robes and a sinister smile that made the soldiers gasp in shock and turn around almost immediately

“hiya, i’m hyunjin!” the stranger had greeting you brightly, giving you an extreme feeling of whiplash because this boy

looked really scary, resembling the ‘evil’ witches and wizards you had read about in your mythical studies class

“uh, i’m y/n - thanks, for that. they wouldn't leave me alone.” you thanked him anyway, offering him the most miniscule of grins, to which he giggled at and waved it away

“ah its no problem, i’m not exactly the biggest fan of the kingdom’s royal army anyway, not a big deal honestly,” he admitted without a care in the world, now taking a moment to take in your appearance which was... interesting, to say the least

since you’d been walking with little to no chances to bathe for weeks, you were just a bit stinky and covered in little bits of dirt and grime

“where are you going then, miss y/n?”

“i’m travelling to a town called arbington, its uh, its been a long walk if you couldn't tell.” suddenly hyunjin snapped his fingers, green sparks flying from between his thumb and middle finger

“tell you what y/n the traveler, i’ll whisk you away to arbington right now since you gave me the pleasure of fucking with those soldiers!”

“what - hyunjin that's nice and all, but how are you-”

“just think of who or where you want to be right now - hold on tight!”

within a blink of an eye he had made some strange hand movement in your direction, a cloud of billowing smoke erupting from under your tattered, torn shoes

jeongin

and suddenly you were on the ground, somewhere completely new and...

wet?

a low gruff caused you to snap out of it, your gaze snapping forward where some sort of feathered beast with long, spider-like legs was glaring fiercely at you

looking down then back up again, you realized you had been teleported into a pond of sorts, right in front of this oddball creature that had clearly been drinking from the very spot you were in merely seconds ago

before you could process it, the beast was letting out a mighty roar of absolute anger and getting ready to strike you with its sharp beak

you shut your eyes, bracing for the immense amount of pain this creature was about to hit you with

but, nothing happened

you slowly cracked your eyelids open to see what was happening, only to see an all too familiar face staring down at you, full of confusion and worry

“y/n, stand up and bow!”

“I - I... what?”

“just fucking do it already!” he hissed, just barely holding back the furious beast with one palm pressed against its black speckled beak

you quickly did as he instructed, somehow managing to not slip as you stood from the muddy bank of the pond and made an awkward bow, shyly gazing at the creature when you came back up

it had calmed down instantly, now squawking warmly at you and jeongin, letting the tall boy stroke its beak and send it off somewhere else

“y/n what - what are you doing here?” he breathes out after a tension-filled silence had begun to brew between you and him, lifting his gaze to meet yours. “you’re supposed to be home, in worcaster.”

you nearly snapped

“worcaster has never been my home, jeongin, you know that,” you hiss furiously, your eyebrows now scrunched together as you take a step closer to his stiff body, ignoring the awkward sloshing of your soaked shoes and clothes, “you are my home - but then you left without a single fucking word!”

he flinches at your harsh, sharp words - not because he’s too hurt by them (which he is) but because you were clearly hurt by his actions, or rather, lack of them in the past

your eyes were prickling with the familiar sensation of salty tears and your bottom lip had started to tremble furiously

“i’m so, so sorry y/n,” the black haired boy whispers, his voice cracking with emotion each step you take towards him, “I had to l-leave, but I knew you wanted to finish school before we took off - that was the plan, fuck it was always the plan!” he nearly shouts, but you don’t flinch at all, simply holding back your tears as your eyes take in how much he’s grown in just three months

he’s gotten a hell of a lot taller, with you having to tilt your head back just enough to catch how his lips move in a flurry of emotion

his cheeks are just a bit fuller and brighter, showing that he had been prospering in arbington

god you missed him

“I knew that you’d be pissed at me, but I couldn't just take everything you worked so hard for away from you. I - I swear to god I was going to come back for you when you graduated, but the menagerie has been so busy lately and my boss got a girlfriend and they go out sometimes so i’m left alone to run the shop when he’s gone-”

“shut up and hug me, asshole.” you interrupt him as the tears finally escape the corners of your crinkled eyes, trailing down your cheeks as you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around him

he does the same to you, holding you so close you worry that you won’t be able to breathe in a few minutes if you keep this up

“I - I love you peaches, i’m… i’m so sorry I left you there.”

“I love you too, melonhead.”

you were soulmates, and both of you knew that - especially after being separated for so long

whether it be friendship or maybe something more, jeongin knew that you would always stick together, no matter what

even as one of the baby wisps chan had given to him goes to rest on your wrist, unnoticeable to you and only to him because they were a bonded human-and-wisp pair, he didn't need the baby pink creature to show him that you were his soulmate

you were his, and he was yours

and he would never leave you again

                                         ✧

[richincolor]

Where To?

People travel for many reasons. They visit friends and family, meet new people, explore new places, reconnect with familiar places, or even just enjoy the movement from one place to another. In these fantastic books, characters get to know themselves better by leaving home. If you’re ready for an excellent journey, grab one of these titles soon.

American Road Trip by Patrick Flores-Scott Henry Holt and Co. (BYR) Crystal’s Review

A heartwrenching YA coming of age story about three siblings on a road trip in search of healing.

With a strong family, the best friend a guy could ask for, and a budding romance with the girl of his dreams, life shows promise for Teodoro “T” Avila. But he takes some hard hits the summer before senior year when his nearly perfect brother, Manny, returns from a tour in Iraq with a devastating case of PTSD. In a desperate effort to save Manny from himself and pull their family back together, T’s fiery sister, Xochitl, hoodwinks her brothers into a cathartic road trip.

Told through T’s honest voice, this is a candid exploration of mental illness, socioeconomic pressures, and the many inescapable highs and lows that come with growing up—including falling in love.

Juliet Takes a Breath by Gabby Rivera Riverdale Avenue Books

Juliet Milagros Palante is leaving the Bronx and headed to Portland, Oregon. She just came out to her family and isn’t sure if her mom will ever speak to her again. But Juliet has a plan, sort of, one that’s going to help her figure out this whole “Puerto Rican lesbian” thing. She’s interning with the author of her favorite book: Harlowe Brisbane, the ultimate authority on feminism, women’s bodies, and other gay-sounding stuff.

Will Juliet be able to figure out her life over the course of one magical summer? Is that even possible? Or is she running away from all the problems that seem too big to handle?

With more questions than answers, Juliet takes on Portland, Harlowe, and most importantly, herself.

Down and Across by Arvin Ahmadi Viking Books for Young Readers Crystal’s Review

Scott Ferdowsi has a track record of quitting. Writing the Great American Novel? Three chapters. His summer internship? One week. His best friends know exactly what they want to do with the rest of their lives, but Scott can hardly commit to a breakfast cereal, let alone a passion.

With college applications looming, Scott’s parents pressure him to get serious and settle on a career path like engineering or medicine. Desperate for help, he sneaks off to Washington, DC, to seek guidance from a famous professor who specializes in grit, the psychology of success.

He never expects an adventure to unfold out of what was supposed to be a one-day visit. But that’s what Scott gets when he meets Fiora Buchanan, a ballsy college student whose life ambition is to write crossword puzzles. When the bicycle she lends him gets Scott into a high-speed chase, he knows he’s in for the ride of his life. Soon, Scott finds himself sneaking into bars, attempting to pick up girls at the National Zoo, and even giving the crossword thing a try—all while opening his eyes to fundamental truths about who he is and who he wants to be.

Surviving Santiago by Lyn Miller-Lachmann Running Press Kids Crystal’s Reivew

Returning to her homeland of Santiago, Chile, is the last thing that Tina Aguilar wants to do during the summer of her sixteenth birthday. It has taken eight years for her to feel comfort and security in America with her mother and her new husband. And it has been eight years since she has last seen her father.

Despite insisting on the visit, Tina’s father spends all his time focused on politics and alcohol rather than connecting with Tina, making his betrayal from the past continue into the present. Tina attracts the attention of a mysterious stranger, but the hairpin turns he takes her on may push her over the edge of truth and discovery.

The tense, final months of the Pinochet regime in 1989 provide the backdrop for author Lyn Miller-Lachmann’s suspenseful tale of the survival and redemption of the Aguilar family, first introduced in the critically acclaimed Gringolandia.

Solo by Kwame Alexander with Mary Rand Hess Blink

From award-winning and New York Times bestselling author Kwame Alexander, with Mary Rand Hess, comes Solo, a YA novel written in poetic verse. Solo tells the story of seventeen-year-old Blade Morrison, whose life is bombarded with scathing tabloids and a father struggling with just about every addiction under the sun—including a desperate desire to make a comeback. Haunted by memories of his mother and his family’s ruin, Blade’s only hope is in the forbidden love of his girlfriend. But when he discovers a deeply protected family secret, Blade sets out on a journey across the globe that will change everything he thought to be true. With his signature intricacy, intimacy, and poetic style, Kwame Alexander explores what it means to finally come home.

The Astonishing Color of After by Emily X.R. Pan Little Brown and Company Crystal’s Review

Leigh Chen Sanders is absolutely certain about one thing: When her mother died by suicide, she turned into a bird.

Leigh, who is half Asian and half white, travels to Taiwan to meet her maternal grandparents for the first time. There, she is determined to find her mother, the bird. In her search, she winds up chasing after ghosts, uncovering family secrets, and forging a new relationship with her grandparents. And as she grieves, she must try to reconcile the fact that on the same day she kissed her best friend and longtime secret crush, Axel, her mother was taking her own life.

Alternating between real and magic, past and present, friendship and romance, hope and despair, The Astonishing Color of After is a novel about finding oneself through family history, art, grief, and love.

Starfish by Akemi Dawn Bowman Simon Pulse

Kiko Himura has always had a hard time saying exactly what she’s thinking. With a mother who makes her feel unremarkable and a half-Japanese heritage she doesn’t quite understand, Kiko prefers to keep her head down, certain that once she makes it into her dream art school, Prism, her real life will begin.

But then Kiko doesn’t get into Prism, at the same time her abusive uncle moves back in with her family. So when she receives an invitation from her childhood friend to leave her small town and tour art schools on the west coast, Kiko jumps at the opportunity in spite of the anxieties and fears that attempt to hold her back. And now that she is finally free to be her own person outside the constricting walls of her home life, Kiko learns life-changing truths about herself, her past, and how to be brave.

From debut author Akemi Dawn Bowman comes a luminous, heartbreaking story of identity, family, and the beauty that emerges when we embrace our true selves.

Summer of the Mariposas by Guadalupe Garcia McCall Tu Books Audrey’s Review

When Odilia and her four sisters find a dead body in the swimming hole, they embark on a hero’s journey to return the dead man to his family in Mexico. But returning home to Texas turns into an odyssey that would rival Homer’s original tale.

With the supernatural aid of ghostly La Llorona via a magical earring, Odilia and her little sisters travel a road of tribulation to their long-lost grandmother’s house. Along the way, they must outsmart a witch and her Evil Trinity: a wily warlock, a coven of vicious half-human barn owls, and a bloodthirsty livestock-hunting chupacabras. Can these fantastic trials prepare Odilia and her sisters for what happens when they face their final test, returning home to the real world, where goddesses and ghosts can no longer help them?

Summer of the Mariposas is not just a magical Mexican American retelling of The Odyssey, it is a celebration of sisterhood and maternal love.

[tomorrowedblog]

Friday Releases for April 1

Friday is the busiest day of the week for new releases, so we've decided to collect them all in one place. Friday Releases for April 1 include Apollo 10 1/2: A Space Age Childhood, You Won’t Be Alone, The Contractor, and more.

Apollo 10 1/2: A Space Age Childhood

Apollo 10 1/2: A Space Age Childhood, the new movie from Richard Linklater, is out today.

A man narrates stories of his life as a 10-year-old boy in 1969 Houston, weaving tales of nostalgia with a fantastical account of a journey to the moon.

You Won’t Be Alone

You Won’t Be Alone, the new movie from Goran Stolevski, is out today.

Set in an isolated mountain village in 19th century Macedonia, You Won’t Be Alone follows a young girl who is kidnapped and then transformed into a witch by an ancient spirit. Curious about life as a human, the young witch accidentally kills a peasant in the nearby village and then takes her victim’s shape to live life in her skin. Her curiosity ignited, she continues to wield this horrific power in order to understand what it means to be human.

The Contractor

The Contractor, the new movie from Tarik Saleh, is out today.

Chris Pine stars in the action-packed thriller as Special Forces Sergeant James Harper, who is involuntarily discharged from the Army and cut-off from his pension. In debt, out of options and desperate to provide for his family, Harper contracts with a private underground military force. When the very first assignment goes awry, the elite soldier finds himself hunted and on the run, caught in a dangerous conspiracy and fighting to stay alive long enough to get home and uncover the true motives of those who betrayed him.

Morbius

Morbius, the new movie from Daniel Espinosa, is out today.

Dangerously ill with a rare blood disorder and determined to save others suffering his same fate, Dr. Morbius attempts a desperate gamble. While at first it seems to be a radical success, a darkness inside him is unleashed. Will good override evil – or will Morbius succumb to his mysterious new urges?

Barbarians

Barbarians, the new movie from Charles Dorfman, is out today.

Four friends come together for a celebratory dinner party at a country house. But as the night progresses dark secrets emerge and unsettling events begin to unfold around them.

The Bubble

The Bubble, the new movie from Judd Apatow, is out today.

The Bubble is a comedy about a group of actors and actresses stuck inside a pandemic bubble at a hotel attempting to complete a sequel to an action franchise film about flying dinosaurs.

See You Then

See You Then, the new movie from Mari Walker, is out today.

A decade after abruptly breaking up with Naomi, Kris invites her to dinner to catch up on their complicated lives, relationships, and Kris’ transition. Over a night of intimate and vulnerable conversations, a shocking truth is revealed.

The Last Bus

The Last Bus, the new TV series from Paul Neafcy, is out today.

A group of mismatched students on a school trip become unlikely heroes when a robot apocalypse zaps away the rest of humanity.

Slow Horses

Slow Horses, the new TV series from Will Smith and James Hawes, is out today.

Slow Horses follows a team of British intelligence agents who serve in a dumping ground department of MI5 – Slough House. Oldman stars as Jackson Lamb, the brilliant but irascible leader of the spies who end up in Slough House due to their career-ending mistakes.

The Outlaws

The Outlaws, the new TV series from Elgin James and Stephen Merchant, is out today.

From Emmy winner Stephen Merchant and Elgin James comes THE OUTLAWS–a contemporary British comedy thriller about a disparate group of lawbreakers thrown together to complete a Community Service sentence. Seven strangers from different walks of life – people who would never normally interact – are forced to work together to renovate a derelict community center. They resent the menial physical labour and they resent each other. But when one of their number gets dragged into a dangerous world of organized crime, they unite in ways none of them thought possible.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow, the new TV series from Hong Sook-woo, is out today.

Made half-human and half-spirit by accident, a young man is employed by a company of grim reapers in the underworld to carry out special missions.

[clarafell]

"homura-chan..." the young serial killer murmured whilst standing within the darkness of madoka's kitchen, branding for what it seemed to be a bloodied knife. "i'm so sorry, but, I couldn't let her do this to you...." even his face had some blood on it & so did the floor, as well as the nearby counter. "you hardly even sleep anymore.." but madoka herself seemed to be strangely missing. "so... i just killed her." that was until he moved aside, revealing her dead body. "do you hate me...?"

Listen to this song for some happy thoughts!

↳  @delightful-envy​

                     It was pleasantly quiet on the this afternoon. She planned on kicking back and relaxing after a long night of fighting witches. Today had been going so smoothly since it was finally the weekend. It meant that she could catch up on her sleep or even going shopping. Homura had been caught off guard when the peaceful afternoon was disturbed by the sound of Kyubey. The cat-like creature’s voice was stressed but overall emotionless. Still such a cute voice according to Madoka or Mami. Maybe she could hang out with someone. Maybe Envy would like to come over? After she took a little nap just to be more well rested to avoid falling asleep with Envy again. Alas, Kyubey ruined her peace and quiet—

                   Hurry, Homura Akemi, hurry!

    Kyubey warned her that something was wrong and it was at the Kaname household. With the mother of Madoka at work and her father seeming to take her little brother to the park, Homura had no clue that the house was empty. She knocked once or twice in a quiet manner, hands not giving her the strength. She looked into the windows, frightened at the silence. Kyubey didn’t go into detail but he told her to hurry. She had been quick to call Mami in advance, telling her to meet up. But Mami was running late and Homura had arrived at the house first. Bright as always on the inside and brimming with happiness from the little garden filled with tomatoes and other plant life, Homura knew where Madoka’s house was. She had been hesitant, knocking harder before she turned the door knob to reveal that the door was in fact open. If it wasn’t open, she would have done the unthinkable and smash a window in or even slip into the Madoka’s normally cracked open door. It was how Kyubey himself often got in, anyway. Homura was so foreign when she stepped inside Madoka’s bedroom in the past timelines, always in awe over how cute the room was. (It was such an honor that she got to be in the same room that Madoka slept in and spent her days in. It warmed her heart that she had been invited inside Madoka’s home in the past timelines. Madoka trusted her so much to do that… Or maybe she was just friendly.) She met her parents a couple of times now in different timelines. She has already seen plenty of pictures of her little brother whom Madoka adored, liking to take plenty of pictures. They liked to draw together. Homura joined in one time as she was invited to eat dinner at the Kaname household just a few days ago. It was so pleasant, the food melted into her mouth. Her father cooked so good and her mother chatted with her, making her in awe over how cool her mother was. Madoka had been flustered with how many questions her mother asked of Homura. It was a pleasant time where Homura actually had a homemade meal and not some sort of little meal with a convenient store like instant ramen or something.

   Homura forgot what it was like to have a family dinner yet alone a warm meal. Such a fond little memory. Even her parents were so nice and so caring even to some stranger. They were wonderful parents and a wonderful couple with such a strong bond that made Homura also smile. But on this lonely afternoon, the parents were thankfully away and so was her little brother. What would have happened if they saw Homura just break into the house and looking for any form of danger? They would think that she was losing it or something. Maybe she was losing it, a little voice in the back of her head muses as the paranoid female wanders the empty household in search of danger. Of anything. Of Madoka. But when she stumbled into the kitchen that was unusually dark, Homura had spotted a figure. Still clad in her uniform, Homura had froze up in her spot at the sight of Envy. She had told him of Madoka in her tired nights, telling him of the dinner she had with Madoka and her family. Telling him how she forgot what it was like to eat such a well prepared and steaming meal. She told him that she wished she could repeat that cherished event over and over. After all, Homura told him of her days when she was gone for a bit in order to catch him up on her current events. She trusted Envy and she also liked to tell him anything new except the puella magi business that she often kept under wraps. F͙̘͍̠̽̂́ọ̻̠̝ͣ̉͂ͤ̾̈́r͔͍̺͖͚̠̄ ̡̬̳͉̘ͪͧ̈́͗ͫ̑h̊͛i͓̓͊ͪs̬̖͓̓̇̃̿͠ ͉̦̞̟̜̹ͨ̓s͖̣͙͇̫̤͍ͭ̒̿̔ͬ̀a̟̟̥͙̼͈̺͘f͑ͥ̋ͧͪ͏͖̺̼͉͙e̸͈̫̺̯̅̊ͧͅͅt͍̯̣̰̒͞y̪̖̟͐̇ ̢̻̲̳̰̣̥̹̍̒ͮͩ̓̓͒āṋ̪̱̙̤̇̒ͤͬͤ̚d͔̜͉̹̜̦͉̓ͪ̃͂ͥ̑̾ ̪͑̿͂͆͊h͚̗̗͊͌̇ē̡̼̹̆r̙̻̭ ͖̖̬͇̰̲̃ͣͣ͛͂s̵̫͚̦̙̦̳̍̍̊̇̔ͩ͌ä͇̳͎́̽ͨ͌ͫn̛̞̳̗̭ͥ̐i̤̦̘̟t̼͓̬͎̞͑͘y̫̜̖͕̐͒ͦ.̷̣̮̹͆̽͐ͩ

      “Envy?”  When she saw Envy, her first instinct was to just look at him and his face. She had spotted the blood on his face and her first instinct was to assume it was his blood. Her tone had been worried and surprised as she peers at him, mouth opened to stare at him. She took one step closer, arms at her side as one of them raises to reach out a hand. But she pauses at the sight of his bloodied knife and that was when the familiar, sickening scent of blood hit her harshly. She went pale at the smell and her stomach lunges forward in disgust, feeling her world go dizzy. She was never able to stomach blood so well even with all her fights and her wounds and the deaths. She was handling it better compared to her first days as a magical girl. “Envy, why are you here? Its…” She is pausing on her words, almost about to say that it was dangerous. She was still in the automatic mindset that the culprit of the silence and the blood was a witch. Her eyes land on Envy’s body, violet eyes scanning to look for any symbols on any exposed skin. For all she knew, the witch’s kiss mark could be on his tongue. But her search and her senses stop for a moment upon hearing the apology. He truly meant it, she knew for a fact. That tone of voice. He was sorry, but for what?

                  H͕͎ͦ̚̕͝o̢̹̩̤̩̤̊ͬ͑͜͟m̸̙͔̥͙̈͊ͦ͑̿͒ũ̼̮̭̳̯̲̬̊̌ͣ͋̃̓r̯̤̟̺̜̻̗͖̪̓ͯ͆̃͝a̪̫̭̰̘̱̬͐͗ͣͭͣ̇̒ ̺̺͖̗͖̼͗́̕A̤̾̍̿ͧ̋̇͡k̷͍̗̯͕ͤ̈ͨ͂̉̂̌͞e̶̟̱̼ͯ́͛̃̃m̮̤̂̒̈́ͪ̒ͨ̕i̻͎̤̭̝ͥ̒ͥ̚, t̥̘̟̱͎͖̑̀̋ͣh̏ͦͧ̂̏i̺̱̣̦̣̅̈́ͨ͐ś͈̖̥ͮ͂ͨ̚ ̲̋̽̑̂̉͒ͯh̞̟̬͓̀̎ͦuͭͣͨͪ̏ͫm͇̺̻̞̿a̒͑̾͐ͬ̀̔ṉ̥̳̙̾ ̘ͯͬ̊̚ḵ̮̜ͥ̋̐ͩͫ̚ǹ͑o̙̹w̪̗̎̅s̘͛͂ͤͩͬ̾ ÿ̸̸́ͫͭͫ̏͋͗̃͏̸̜̣̠̳̱̮͎ō̴̡͇̙͕̩̉̐̾͑̀́͡u̴̯̮͚̩̦ͥͮ̊͌̓ͥͫͧ̅́̇͋ͅr̾̑ͮ̓͐͒ͩ̉ͦͭ̆͒̓ͩ͂҉̸̸̡̮͈̮̞̫ ̧̛̫̻͍̙̞̼̪̣̣̲̥̘̍̌͛͐̒́ͅn̨̢̛̦̠̺̘̲̅ͮ̾̊͛͒ͮ̓̋ͦ̿͌͆̄͂ͬͧ̎͟͝ͅả̸̷̮̲̮̜͎̳̭̠̙͈͈̠̠͎̭̲͋̐̽̽ͫͩͨ͝m̬͚̤̭̬͉̯͈͖̯̭͕͎͇͔̯̠̪ͦ̐͐̽͋̾ͨ̐͌̓͛ͫ͊̔̽̀͘e̷̷̜͍̝̹̺̯̲͈͎̣͔͆ͩ̓ͥ̊ͨ͐̈́̀͊̆́͟ͅͅͅ!̒̒̊̽͊͊ͦͨ̄̄͘͏͏̷̲͇̜͕̬̹͈̘̫̪̺̗͙̪͍͝ͅ

        It sounds roughly like Kyubey.

                 …c̡̺̭̪̯͟a̧̛̲̞̳͞ǹ̫͜ ̡͙ y̸̧̯̣̙̖̫ͪ̄̾̈̈̍ͪ̇̀ͧ̑͝ǫ͈̠̖̝̩̦̩͚̘̻̀̐ͫ̿̉͆ͩ͊̽̈͛̊͊ͣ̆̿͆͜͠u̴̬͉̭͇̹̦̫̞͓͔̳ͪ̌̐̿̀ ͏̧̬̭̥̺̪ h̻̠̯̟͚̪̙͔̲ͣ̐ͤͬͫ̇̅̊́͜͝e̸̞͓̗ͩ̍̔̓̎̊ͭ̑a̗̞̱̝͂͑ͨ̈́̂̋́r͍̙͎͉̲̈́̕͟͡ ̗͉͎̲̳̘̹͎ͫ̍́͘͠m͑ͧͭͣ̆͏̩̳̱̕ͅê̥̙͈͊͟?̧̖̹̹̱͖̝̬͇͆̉͋ͮ͑ͬ͊̋̏ͅ!̵̱͔͛̓̑̾̑́ͩ̒

       That sounds like Mami’s voice—

         Maybe she didn’t hear Kyubey or hear his telepathic remarks. She also didn’t hear the worried remarks of Mami, who was trying to communicate with Homura as she rushed to the scene. Maybe her mind didn’t want her to catch on. Maybe she didn’t want to believe the warning bells in her head. Maybe she wanted to blame the witches on all of the world’s evil or tragedy. The floor and the counter were covered in blood. Splatters of it but not as bad as the pool of blood that Envy stood in. He was shielding her from what lays dead behind him. But upon hearing that keyword, Homura felt chills run up her body again and this time she had actually acknowledged them. “Envy, what do you mean that you’re sorry…”  She began and stopped and soon felt a horrible pit in her stomach, realizing that she did not see Madoka so far yet. Something happened. For a moment that felt like ages, she wanted to believe that Envy had killed an intruder that got inside the house. But that, she knew, was very unrealistic since Envy himself was the intruder. As Envy stepped aside to reveal the body of the pink haired classmate, Homura had let out a strangled cry that soon morphed into a scream. Her hands flew to cover her mouth as she stares at the body, unable to believe her own eyes. This must be a nightmare. W̲ͣ͐̉̚ĥ̶̨̥̩͖͝ỹ̷̵̯͎͉̂̐̅͐ͭͨ̀͝ͅ ̸̨̘̦̣̱̞̟̯͕͓ͩ͑̑̀̓͒͗ͯ̃w̴̷̦̟̝̖̖̬͐̾̔͛̏͆̿̍o̢͎̠͙̦̜̪͇͗̓̍ͯ͜u̷̳̫͉̜̤̖͎̞͋̈͛͊ͯ͟͠l͈̬̫͐ͭ̕͟͜d̻͇͚̥̜͈̺͚ͯ͗̓͗͞ ̊͊͞҉͙͔͕̦̮̠Ë̱̩̖̪̪́̎̋̒ͪ̃͂͢n̢̨̤͍͋v̷̸̫͐̍̕y̸̜̭̭ͭͥ̈́́͠ͅ ̩̭̱ͮ͘d̵̢͍̫͎ͪͮ̇̊ͬ̄̅ͭ́õ̩̗̙̞̅ͭ̋͞ ̴̛͚͖͖͊̌ͮ̐ͥ͋̉̃t͔̞͈̰̥͑̂ͯͮ̔̍͋̓̉͜h̙̗̩̩͓̙ͯ̆̆̎̂̀́͞ḭ̱͓̹̻̞̻̺̊̉̐̑̅͝s̻̘̩̱̟̮͚ͫ͐ͤͯ͒ͯͤ͆͟͠?̴̖͕͉̭̫̦̄͛ͩ͗̎ Homura couldn’t stop picturing the sound of Madoka’s screams and pleas for help as tears begin to run down her face. Messy, ugly tears that was soon followed by ugly sobs and violent shakes of her head. That denial in her head and heart were strong. She knew of his killings, she knew of them but she never knew who he killed. W̧̯̯̲̳͍͊̃a̤̲ͩ̾̍͆s̶̲̖̫̓ͦͬ̒̿͛̋̾̓ ͉̬̼̭̠̭̻͙̩̔ͭ̎ͫ͑͑̏̃͜s̼͓̀̍̍̔̋̿͡ͅh̸̠͓̟̹̉̍̕e̷̫̥̻͈̝̲͎͌̈̓͊́̉͡ ̲̗̟̬͇͈̻ͣͭ̀ͣ́̋͋̊̊̀s̗̳̆̑ͯ̎͗͌̚ͅo̸͇̖͎̺̭̭͈̖ͮ͋̓̓ͪ̎̆͛̾͢ ̸̡̩͉̥͚̮̥̯͐ͤͭ̒̾̚̚͝s̹͙̺̫̖̥̺̻ͣ̅͌ͣ̊̈ͯ̀͜e̢̹̠̞̦̭̟̭̤̋̒ͩ̏̾̀͑́̚͢l͚̪͕̗̱͙͆̇̈́͑͒ͤ̐̀͞f̨̩͍ͮ̓į̨̮̱͇͇͐͐ͮ́ͫ̔͒̔s̺ͥͫͤ̎h̤̘͇̽͐̚͞ ̣̼̜̙͙͔ͣ̍̅ͦ̚͜͠ͅṱ̷̷̞̗̱̍̎ͬ̇o̠̯̗͉͂̅͂̉̆̂̂ ̳̱̙̰̞̲͒̒́c̶̙̻̏ͧ̏ͭ̋̅̾̚r̢̩̟̼ͯ̈́̓ͣ͑̓̀ͅy̨̛̗̩̳ͩ͡ ̞͎͕͓̣̒͑̋̂ͯ͠a̸͈͚ͦͣ͂n̢̜̹̳̲̎̌͋d̡͙̤ͯͥ̒̋̒͋̆̈́̎ ̶̷̘͖͎̋ͤ̃w͖͇̬̭̭̾̏ͫ̃ͮ̿ͧͦ̈͟͞o̟̮̘ͣ̅ͧr̖͓̪͕̋̈ͮͥ́͡r̷̡͎̭͉̣͗̾̈́y̷̨̦̳̏ ̢̩̠̩̯̬͖͔̩ͣ̌͐́f̨͍͓̺͗̈ͬͦ̒̌̇͛o͖̮̦͇͉̾̉͆ͦ̕r̗͎͍̯̦̻̘̿̅̊ͩ ̥̰͍͇̠͖͙̦̻ͤM͕̻̘̖̻͚̯̋͌ͪͧ̏̎̐̌a̢̦̩̼̅͐̑̏d̵̪̟̔͆͊o̷̮͔̻̖̦͋͂̒̌ͫ̚̕k̸̢̳͓̙̖͎̝̈́ͯͪ̾̚͠ả͓͈͉̘̲͢ ̮̠̰̦̣͙̺̉͊ͅb̶̴̲̝̫̦̾̊̊͐ͥ̆u̽̇̇̿͠͏̭̞̬͍͠t̛̤͔͎͙̝̭͗ͧͅ ̨̛̫̪͔͍͙͉͈ͯ̋͆̓̊͜n͓̙̯̭ͫͮͫ͟o̡̲͇̲̯͛ͦ̍͝ț̰͖͈ͩ̔ͦ ̰̬͖͎͈̰̹͎͉̈̄͢t̲̺͊̈̎ͧ̿̈́h̬̩̓̍ͮ̇͆̚͠ḙ̜̗͊ͨ͛̽̐ͪ̉͜͞ ̶̜͉ͪͮ͂ͤ̓̒̾r̷̼̮̱̬̈̇ͩ̄̔̇͝ͅe̡̻̗̲̣̩̽̾͑̈́̇͊͞ͅs̱̤̞̥͍̭͓̥ͯ͒ͭ̓͑ͦ͌͌t̴̜̯͓̱͎̆ͣͫ͛̕ ̹̘̙͈̯ͨ̔̊ͤͥ̇̀͝o̵̰̞̹͈ͭͩͩͦf̵͙̦̰̯̺̳̙͎̾̓͆͆̀̃̇͡ͅ ̴̨̜͕̎ͯͤ͌̔̀h̛̥̦̳͍̔̿ͣ͊̾̉̀ͯ͟i̢͉͙̘͉̤̊ͥ̾̾͢s̷̰̭͚̐̌̉̇ͦ̊̌ͣ͝ ̸̡̤͇͈̜̖̳͔ͮ̓̎ͦv͇̱̘͍͈ͣ̃̌iͨ̇͏̛̭̺̝̙̫ͅč͓̗ṭ̱̦̘͔̬̳̬̑͑i͎̥̱̲͋̇m͑̿̽ͥ͊̒́̕͏͔̺̖͈͙̳̩s̸͈̯̥̭͈̮ͬͭ ̨͖̅̍ͅt̶̝̘͒̐̒͑ͫ̽͘ǫ̷̻̹͗̉̎̚͘o͕̥̻̖̓̂ͥ̒ͬ̊̐͆?̷̨̪̻̦̺͓͙̹̗̝̐̾ͭ̆̊͊͛͘ How could she be so selfish and just cry for Madoka? Shouldn’t she cry for all of his victims? Or has she just tuned them out, wanting to believe that they never existed? Homura hated how her thoughts were spiraling out of control. Why couldn’t she stop these tears? At least her crying and the dark light made it harder to see the body of Madoka. She was almost glad that her head was looking over to the left instead of the right. If Madoka’s head had laid in the pool of blood and stared at her with eyes of betrayal, Homura would had fallen to the floor and to her knees. Oh, thank goodness Homura didn’t have to see her expression or her eyes.

          He did it for her but she never asked for him to kill Madoka. She had struggled to stand as she leaned on the counter before her legs started to buckle down and fail her. She had peered at the body of Madoka, already seeing enough of her blood as it was in her dreams. She stared at the body, feeling numb and hurt at the same time. Oh, she had hoped that Envy had finished her off quick. No, no! That was not the way she should think… But if Madoka had gotten a swift and quick death, it would have been over at least less painfully. As Homura peered at the body, she forced herself to look up at Envy as she avoids the blood on the counter while using it to support herself. She felt sick to her stomach and even worse with the fact that her horror was turning more into emptiness instead. Was she truly getting used to seeing death if she was feeling so empty? Like a pumpkin with all of the guts inside being removed, the dark haired girl would stare at Envy. She felt horrible, unable to figure out what her emotions were. She didn’t know what to feel or say or think. H̴̨̤̲̘̼̀̎͌̋ͪ̎ͨ͂͗̈́͌̚e̷̫̩͎̬̲͓̦̻̥̰̣̥̤̹̼̘͈̜̎ͭͣ̎̆ͦ̏ͩ̃͆̉ͣ͊̿͠ͅ ̷̢̨͓̜̩̟̩̱̼͔̊ͤ̽̾͋ͬ͑̌ͤͨ́̐̏̅ͯ̓͜͡ḑ̟͓̖̳̬̤̣̜̫͋̍ͭ̈́̾̊̑͂ͫͥͩ͒ͭͤ̚͢ĭ̅͒̇̐͗̏͐͑̿ͭͫ̈̍͂̄͋͑͐҉̢͠͏̸͎̞̮̫̜͖ͅͅd̸̡͈͓̯̳̙̗̰̐ͪ͋̐ͤ̈͑̍ͪ̉ͫ̌ ̵͒̈́ͥ͗̐̀ͯͤ̒ͭ͏͈̬͍̙̦̙͓͓̫̞͓͇͘͡i̾ͬ͑̽̔̓ͪ̊ͧ͊͒̋ͭ͒̂͟͏͕̦͍̘̮̺̪̹t͛̈́͐ͮͨ̋҉̛͏̻̮̟̻̖̞͞ ͙̭͔̠̯͇̺͙͉͇͚̰̳̥͈̯̙͈͗̿̔̏̄̉̊͌ͥ͋ͮ̚͡͞f̸̡̦͉̗̥͉̣̥̬̠̺ͧͩ̄̔ͪ́͢͠ô̸͇̮͎̱̤̖̮͕̝̲͑̃̔͋̓̇͞ͅr̷͉̠̩̞̱̱͉̼͎̹͇̣̙ͪ̓͌ͣ̆̈́ͪ̇͂͒ͨ͜͝͞ ̴̾̽̉̒ͪ͋͟҉̬̣͓̦̭͎͖̀͢h̶̢̗͈͙͍͈̲̘̞̯̞͓͇ͭͫͩ̈̇̓̀̈́̑ͯ̆̇͑͐ͦ̈̔͜͝e͖̝̰̭̟͔̪̬͙̣̩̺͖̦̭̭̣͕ͪ̍̀̓ͤ́̑́͡͡r̋͆̈͑̾̽ͫ̔ͫ͌̔҉̨͙̥̘̙͕͓̰̟̳͜ͅ.̡͙͉̠͉̭̹̮͚͉͈̝̥̖͇́ͧ̓͝ͅͅ This was her fault. If she would have taken medicine to help her sleep and force herself to make a better sleep schedule, this wouldn’t have happened.

            “Envy, y-you… You d̰̝̩̗͔̞̼̀͒̑ͤ͑̓ͨ̋ͨ̿ͮͯ̿͋́͜͞i̴̸͉͓̝̙̙̫̻̲̠̝͍̬̠̯̇̽ͥͨ̓̊̆͒̇ͧ̎ͯ̓͋̔̓̇̚͘͘d̴̩̙̣̼̲͍̹̺̬̩͈͇̂ͣͥ̆̈̕͝n̷̡̟̦͚̯͓̺̺̯̩͕̮͙͖̺̗̰̗ͨ̉̄̾ͯ͊ͥ̽͆͐͌̚ͅ’̢͈̰̥͙̰̜̟͓̒̓̄̆̅́͞t̟̻̳̖̝͇̯͉̣̪̄ͪ̆̒́̕ ̴̴̢͔͎͉̮̝̟̙̩̞ͩ̀̎͒̆̊̎͟h̨̢̧͉͇̫̹͐͛ͦͩͬ͐̿̓ͤͣͬ́̾̈́́a̵̛̤̹̬̮̻̹̞̖ͨ̄̅̓̿ͧͥͪ͛͋ͩ̎̒̀͑̊̃͜v̧͓̮̝̮͉͈͖̜̟̪̟͙̟̺̩̞̦̻͖ͤ͆̈̂̓̎ͧ̀̚͘͝e̛͉̩̪̭͖̖̦͖͓͇͔̜͖̓̋ͭ̽͛̈͆̿̄̎̏̀̚͘͟ ̴̶͛̄̈ͪ̎́̌͑̄̒͏̳̖̻̲̙͙t̞͇̯̳̞̦̯̰̮͕͎̩̻̙̫̫̳͋̉͛͛͑̾ͩ̈ͪͫ̾ͧ͑ͦ̚͟o̧̢̦̭͚̖͎̱̗̲̙͈ͩ̎̑̍̈ͤ́ͮ̀̃̓̃̒̕͟͝ ̶̖̣̗͈͚̣̺̹̖͚̩̦ͭ̑̊̍̍́ͨ͆͌͞ͅď̳̲̱̋̎ͦͭ̊̓̒̂ͮ̆̆̔̾̎̏̀̚͝o̧̜̱̮̫̙͚̹͇̮ͥͬ͒̽̽̓̿̈ͬͬͣ̈́͐ͧ͛̾ͤͅ t-this for m-me. She…she…” Homura was surprised to hear her own voice as her body trembles, tears refusing to stop. “I could h-have gotten better with my sleeping on my own. You d-don’t understand… It wasn’t Kaname-san’sf̨̪̟̣͉͙̪̬̄ͭͨ̔̊̉ͥ̾́͗̆͌͋ͣ͛̀̚ͅa̢̼̜̤̩͓̜̲͇̺͎̳͖̦̪̱̯͇̪ͮ̓̍̈̽̀͝u̷̷̧̪͖̟̘̬̘̻̙̝̲̺̜̜̹̗̜͖̻͊ͤͨ̍͒̒ͫ͛̕͜l̢ͦͤ̉́̆ͤ̔̊ͪ̀̀ͥ̓̓̒͟͏̖̘̮͖̰͔̖̼̩̳͎͟t̛̳̳̙̻͔̭̭̻͚ͤ̋̑̋ͧ̍̔͌̿͐ͮ̀͐…” Homura found herself using her sleeve to try to wipe away all the tears and even the snot from her running nose. What could she even say? This was all her fault for being so careless enough to trigger Envy into killing someone so precious to her. “Oh, Envy— You—” She should have been rightfully angry at Envy for doing this. She should pick her over him and avenge her name. In her mind, there was conflict over what to do. How was she going to explain this to Mami? The veteran magical girl had no idea about Envy and certainly would have warned her to stay away from him. Scold her for being around such a dangerous person. She would look at her and be disappointed in her. She would blame her for Madoka’s death if Homura told her the truth. But in this blurry moment, all Homura felt was the urge to mourn and to sit in a corner and cry. She stares at Envy, having a hard time with composing herself back to a whole person instead of pieces.

           Ḍ͇̪̪̣͇̠͔͕͓̦̖̪̣̯͈̺͓́ͥ̊͋͜o̸̎̅ͣͤ̋̉͋ͬ̆̈́̓̔̈͋̋͠͏̶̘̘͎̥̪͎̱̣͎͎͕̬̱̤̞ ̶̴̳̬͈̲̙̬̺ͥ̔̀ͣ͂̕͘͜y̶̴̧̳̤̟̹̜̮̜̳̦͚̖͎̤̪ͪ̈́̿̃̏ͫ́̈́ͭ͋̍͐̏͡ô̘̗̞̠̹̲̭͍͚̗̫ͮ͌̅̏̒ͮ̑̉̇̈͋́͟ͅu̡̟̤̳͖̰͙̫̝̙͇̩̠̭͚̰̞̍̀ͪ͑͆̒̾ͬ̅͌ͯͦ̏̏͒͐́̀ ̯̘̙̪̆ͩ̈́̇̓̉͜h̶̼̦̼̯̱͍͛̂̓̄̅̈̑̋̇͑̍͗̆ͫ͊͗͜͡a̶̤͎̫͙̖͎̖͔̼͖͖̩ͤͦͣͤ́ͭͭ̑́́ͅͅt̢̠̱̤̜̝̙̜̰̠̠̭̝̯̘̭ͥ̄̌̀̃͌̚͢͞e̴̡̙̣͕̦̣̙͙̿̈́̋̃̿͆̿͌̓̑̈̌ͧ͑̓̐͞ ͔̻̜͍̭̩̞̟̬͉̹̭̣̘̪͈͕̗̋ͪ̓̌͌̕͡m̓̃̃̓͒ͯ͗͂̈͗̄̒ͭ͂̿ͥ͆͂҉̴̘͈̮̲̹̘͠e̿ͬ̉ͬͨͣͭ̉̈́͏̥̱̖̲̭̼̲͕͎͓̦͎͚̠̻͞?̶ͫ͛̅ͬ̂̍̓̂̾̔̇̾̾ͫ͌͂ͣ҉͏̠̣͇̪̤̤̮̭ Oh, his voice sounded so quiet and so curious but so hurt. She couldn’t tell if he was scared of her own answer as Homura stares at him, trying to find her voice again. As she opened her mouth to speak, the sound of multiple gunshots were heard. Mami had arrived and quickly registered the scene as dangerous. She had shot Envy with her grand rifle, silver and quick as ever. Mami had been fast and silent and very quick to rush over to Homura. It was Mami who took care of the messy scene and brought Homura into an embrace, telling her to stay over at her apartment. Homura was quiet the whole night at Mami’s apartment, refusing to sleep. She remembered watching on the news that very morning of the police taking out the two bodies. Alone and eventually leaving the concerned and yet morning Mami, she had returned to her own lonely apartment. She remembered going to the funeral for Madoka. She remembered crying over the casket of her dear friend. Envy, however, didn’t have a funeral and no one seemed to really care. (W͈̞̤̝ͩ̂̀h͚̠̉̏̇͌y͗̌͢҉̭̪̬̫͇̰̳ ̛̗̣̝̺̰̯̹̦̽ͯ̏ͦw̸͐ͥ́͘͏̼̻͉̰͓̹̭̙ͅa̻̒̄̈́̆̂s̶̥̦̑ͭ͐͛ ͖̞̞̬͓͖̜͑̋̃ͨ̊ͮ̀ͫ͞ț̴͚̻͎̬̎̔͋ͧ͘h̏͑ͤ̄͗̈́̚͏̺͙͎̥ͅi̴̙̠̣̰͕͓̗̩͂̈́͛ṣ̸̵̯̻͖̏̎̈́̇̈́ ̴̩̮̬͂̓͊̈͌ͤ̐̽̔ẉ̠͖̫̲̼ͮ͠͞ͅo̢̥͍͗͐̅ͬͧ̽r̜͈̩̻̓͗̀̀͜l̸̙̝̻̥̄ͩ̅͑̏͋ͦͥ͜d̩͕̫̰̗̥̠̉͟ ̵͎͓̋͟ş͇͖͈͔ͣ͗̍̓̉͛ͪ̀o̷͔͙̭̖̪̟̽͂ͮ̀ͫ̿ͥ͊͛ ̫̹͚̣̻̯̠̎̽ͪ̾̔ͪ̿̓͘c͕̩͚̹̹̰͛́͊̏ͪ̅͘r̴̡̝̠̜̦̫̲͚͙̊̒ͨ͟u͈͓͖͇͚̘ͧͦ͆͐̊̃̾͗e̴̦̙̩̜̟͖̣͖ͫ̀͒͋̑ͤ͗ͤ̌͢l̡̞̂͋̊͋̅ͦ̓͘ ̮̖͈̪͍̉̽ͭ̀̑ͥ̀̕t̢ͧͪ̆͐͌ͨͬ̀͏͕͙͓͙̗̟̥õͯ͌͂̿͆̈͏͇̙̱̻́ ̶̫̣͂͊e̡̻̳̝̗̘̜̖̳̓̄̌̓͊͐̍̋ͅv̧̦̜̫̱͓͉̦ͥ̽ͭ̎͊̇ͧ̈́͞͠e̶̺̩̖͎̼̦̊ͣ̈ͪ̇ͣ̈́͜ȑ̸̡̯̼̹͓̦̖̺̑ͩͧͫ̊y̛̙̜͌́ͦ̒ͤͅ ̨̙̙̼̣̝̈́͊ͪ̓̽̌͌͊̕s̨͕̠̪̜̦̮̝͙̔̓ͯ̾͘͝i̷̧̫̅ͨ͒́̚ͅn̷̲̪̞͔͉ͫͧ̒̒͛̅͝ͅͅg̲̞̠̥̺̲̜͂̐ͅl͙̪̥̪̃͋̓̓̄e̡̗̦͔ͧ͊́͡ ̙̖̼̲̾̈͐́p͇̝͚̂ͫ̄ͩ͒̀̀e͎̪̗̬̥̐ͭ͠r̟̲̫͖͓̗ͮ̒̍ͯͅͅs̴̸͓̙̪̠̄̊̂̈́̿̿̀̊͡o̧̗͙̟̾ͬ̆̕͞n̽͏̱̠̥͕̪͙͉?̛̈ͦ͒͋҉̨̣̱ D̶̸̛̜̩̜͎̠̠̯̗̀͞i̷̯͓͖͚̖̯͢͡͝͞d͈͉͕̯͎̦̣͙̤͇̘͜G̵̜̪̼̲͕̖͙̫̙͛̌ͦ͗͊̈̊ͪ̈́̀̅̀̀͜ͅo̸̴̴̞̲̟͉̭̤͕͙̪ͣ̑̔̒̂ͥ̀͗̆̈́̈̿͆͛ͬ̈̃ͥ̄d̴̖͔̼̤̮̺̣̲͒̂̓ͫ͌̔̄͊̄̀ ̨̖̪̹̰͖͓̰̦̠͙͇͙̆ͥ͌̿̌̍͒̂̓͆͊̌̓͢͡n̵̸͍͓͚͈̳̫ͤ͋͆͋ͥ͋͊̔ͥ͐̽ͪͥ̉̇͗ơ̴̳̜̟̬̲͔̱̝̙̰̘̭̊͐ͮͫṭ̵̡̫̥͓̼̅ͦ͋̆ͫ̋͋ͧ̌ͪ͐͗̒ͭ̍̓̊́͘͠ͅ ̛͉͈͓̼̞͈̘̘̥͖̘̝̯̠̗̙̪ͣ̒ͦͨ͊͌͛̀͢͠ͅc̡͙͍̠̹͕̮̣͐̊͐ͨͫ̐̿̏̽̄̌̈̉̓ͭ̐̑͑̓̀͠a͋̊̐̋̉͒ͤ̄̒ͯͭͧ̿̚̚͏̷̭̥̘͈̺̝̳̥͕̲̪̩̪̫̯̫r̴̛̮͇̭͕̝̬̙͎̰̯̙̣̙̹͎̪̿̇̋ͦ̊ͬ̒͊͑͘ë̸̴͉̞̠͖̫̣̟̟͕̭̣͕̦̹̗̼̽͊̂̇̈̆ͮ̐ͫ̌̚͘͝͞ͅ?̷̛̰̳̯̥̮̳͇̥̿̃̋͊̏̍̃ͮ̏̇̏ͬ̊)

            On that day when Walpurgisnacht arrived, Kyubey did not have Madoka to coax into becoming a magical girl. Mami had died after the quick transformation of Sayaka. Poor Sayaka did not take the death very well and she had went into a blind rage, blaming Homura so much for arriving so late. But Sayaka blamed the killer the most out of Homura. Mami had tried to naturally convince Sayaka that it was not anyone’s fault but the killer himself. Homura had remembered how Sayaka was lashing out at anyone and everyone including herself. Sayaka was so hurt, losing her best friend. It was the first time Homura really and truly saw Sayaka turn into a witch so quickly. After the passing of so many faces, Homura stopped going to school and just buried herself into the empty household of hers. She didn’t go out to hunt witches. When she did leave the house to cleanse her Soul Gem, the gem was almost at its limit when she actually decided to leave. When she did leave to fight, it was a violent fight where Homura had fought and fought even after the witch dropped the grief seed. But when the day of Walpurgisnacht came to destroy, Homura was all alone in her fight. She also had no one to fight for anymore. No allies and no time to sleep or eat. No time for laughter or what if fantasies. She punished herself, allowing flesh to bleed from time to time in her messy bedroom. But she fought the witch that haunted her dreams and failed again and broke down. When she reset the timeline, she grieved and isolated herself even when she transferred into the class. People wrote her off as gloomy or depressed or maybe it was her heart giving her trouble. When she did meet Envy again, she did not tell him of Madoka. All she did was avoid talking about herself and tell him that she was sorry. Homura had done the same to Madoka too, telling her that she was sorry on the first day of class. After just barely meeting the two of them again, Homura would hide herself in her bedroom. Healing would take time. But each time that Envy would come with just even the smallest of blood stains, tears would start to form in her eyes. She would leave the room and request that he cleaned off the blood, telling him that it didn’t suit him. Blood should not suit anyone. She didn’t tell him why she would start crying. She was just glad that he respected her wishes and didn’t press onto the matter. Homura didn’t hate Madoka nor Envy nor any of the,.

             A̛͂ͮ̋̊̿̍ͦ̈ͯͭͩ͆͘҉͚̫͕͈̙̘̲̦͜l̶̲̲̬̤͇̹̪ͯ̃̆ͮ͌̍̅͋̍͆̅̂͐͂͒̄ͨͪͮ̀ͅͅļ̢̛̝͚͕̇ͩ͗͌ͦͤ̐͌͌͛ ̴̛̲̞͈̠̭̲̥̯͖̰̰ͨͤ͒ͩ̀́̐ͣͯ̂̈͘͝ͅḦ̍͌ͥ̓͑̆͊ͫͮ͛ͤͬ҉̵̶̨͎̬̙̯̯̥͉̳͙̲͕̹͚̱̻̺͕͈o͑͂ͥͣ̓́̑ͤ͐̀͏̵̢̡̮͎̼͇̩͈̳̹͈̳̟m̷̡̧͙̪͍̰̥͙ͭ͛͋̓̈̎͆͊͊ͅu͙̤̰͍̱̮̘̩͎̪̤̹̫̭̯͂ͨͨͥ̒̽ͩͭ̒̌͒ͥ̅͒̑͟͝ŗͧͣ͐̌͒̃͂͌ͥ̌͊ͯ̒ͩͣ̽͆҉̧̹͙͎͖͙̬͠a̴̸̾̓̄͗ͪ̌͋̊̽ͧ̀̑̂̏̔͐ͤ͗҉͎̥͔̹͡͞ ͬ͌̎ͣ͛ͨ̉̓̈̓ͦ̂ͣͦ̂̑̚͟͏͡͏͍̮̞̦̯̼͍̮̱̞͔ͅd͆͂̀̉̆ͥ͏̵̴͕̙̪͓͚͔͍̟̤̯̭͔͖̯̦ͅi̷̷̡̥̼͓̜̬̭̤̲̫͓ͦ͑̉͛̂̑̓͜d̊ͭͨ̿̀́ͭ̔̓̈́̀ͦ̚͟҉̶̼̜̬̬̖̼̬̮̹͙̟̭̠͜͠ͅ ̙̠̹̫͎͇̰̦͙̞̟ͬ̏̉̒͌̂͊̓͜͞ͅw̃ͪͤ͛ͦ͠҉̷̢̘̗͈̦̠͓̺̙̤͖a͑̇̇̾͒̋ͧ́҉҉̴̡̹̜̯̺̘̼̯̥̞̠̮͜ş̶́ͦ͆̌͟͏̘̫̝̤̜̟̲͖͓͕̳̻̫͔͎̺͘ͅ ̸̹͕̫̭̟̱ͨ̀ͬ̇ͥͬ͘͜͞ḃ̃ͩͥ҉̡̬̞̭͙̖͇͎̻͍͙̭͇̺̞̮͇l̞̠͚̖̞̩͈͍͈̪̱̘̬̂̈́̇́̅ͭ͟͝aͬ̅̋ͨͬ̾͊ͪ̆͢͏̧̥̘̟̭̦͔̮̫́͡m̨̠̩̣͆̅̋̇ͬ̑͐̀͜ȩ̧̬͇̗̹̺̣̙̝̥̬̫̫̘̃ͦ̓ͥ̉̇̄́͒̏͌̿̊ͯ͜ ̏͑̎̿ͩ҉̸̨̛̺̬̩̳̰̺̤ȟ̶̶̤͚͍͓̝̳̮̦̺͚̬́̿͆̇ͤͧ͆̈͜ͅe̸̛̘̻͍̠̳̔ͤ͊̐̀͊̆̈́ͤ̃͒̿̋̒̑͐̚̚͡r̵̵̵͚͈̙̞̘̩͇̜̱͚̱̱̳̜͍̝̽͒͆͊ͦ̀̋̓ͨ̋̀̚s̻̟͉͍̣̘̪̯̠̹̬͇̖̯̆̒͑ͬ̿̈̿ͬ̒̑ͭ̀e̴͉̼͚͈̩̥̳̖̙͉̙͗ͨ͒̑̓̚ͅͅļ̓͒̒̇̓ͦͪ̈́ͨ͛̋̌ͯ͂ͭͦ͢҉҉̞̘̖̩͓f̸̧̢̙̭̙̳͓̟̣̹͕̅͋ͪ̉̔͑͑̿ͯ̒͂͋͆̀͠.͉̖̟̤̠̞̣͍͈͍̮̞͙͋̂̽̽̽͂͌͂͌ͧ̐̉̆ͫ̎̌͐̊̉̕͜ It is always her fault. In her always cold hands, she kept her feelings of self-hatred bottled up. On nights when she did sleep, she was haunted by the many forms of a dead Madoka. Murdered by her own hands or by a witch or by Envy, she would always wake up in a cold sweat and pick up her cellphone. She would stare at her always empty contact list, expecting names to be in there. On those nights where she shut down, she would call her mother or father. She would leave a voicemail, asking for them to call her back. They normally did call her back yet it was always late. Homura took to her journal, preferring to flip back to happier times in her entries in order to calm herself down. There are days where she would hide away from the world, breaking down in emotional fits until she was ready to leave the see the world. If Madoka would notice these changes, Homura would tell her that she wasn’t feeling good and lying to her best friend each and every time. Over time, her lies got better and better. If Envy had questioned her, she would either not answer and shake her head or she would just tell him of her bad dreams. But she never told him the dreams were real and she never gave him any details on what the dreams were about, too paranoid that she would hurt someone’s feelings or ruin everything again. Sometimes, the dreams morphed into reality and flashbacks. Her performance in battle had weakened and yet she unfortunately always survived somehow much to her own dismay. Over time, she did heal and start to recover. To this day, she has suppressed so many bad memories and refuses to believe that they really happened. If anyone questioned it, she would just blank out or break down or pretend that it was just a dream. On nights where her guilt consumes her, Homura would stare at the gun in her hands and wonder h̟̝̉͌o͕ͣ̈͂͂͑̚ͅw̘͇ ͙̯̖̣̜̞ͯ̈́͛ͨ̊͟ͅl̝͓̣̈́̄͐ͫ͆͐o͔̬̲̹̅͐͐n̵̼͚̤̞͖ͭ͐̎g̶̠̞͖̗̈ͬͫ́̽͂ͅ ̡̦̪̈́͗̈́̈ͥi͚̯ͨ͂̈́t̷̤͎͕ͮͯ̒ͪ̒ͤ ̷͕̪͉͎̮̋͊̈́ͮ̈́w̭̳̖̦̭̙̉͌o̸̲̪̺͇͎̘͂̈́͊ͩ̚u̮̜ͥ̀̔ͣͥ̉ͦ͡l̳̭͓̱͚̮͔̊̈́̃ͦ̅ͬ̃d̨̘͈ ̻̝͍̱̤̙͘t͍̀ͭ̑͠a̢̜̤̓͆kͩe̤̯̟̩̬̜̎̊ ̢̘̘͉̭̤͍̎f̘̮̹ͧ̕o̟̍̄̐ͬͣr̻͕͇̋̑̕ ͉̪͍̫̘̹̥̽̉s̨̹̩̦̼͚̩ͪ̿̓͂o̺̜̗̫̳̳͉̔̎̓ͮ͊̎ͥm͕̺͇͕̼e͒o̶̥̗͔̭͗ͦͧ̆̾̀ͅͅń̳̥͖̫̟̓̿ͫ͋ͯe̙̘̠̮̗̻̭̒̆̌̇̌̓ to find h̶̞͍̬͓̜̲͉̯̺͕̺͈͕ͥͦ͐̚e̶̖̲̠̬̩̣͙̠͇͍͍͔̭̮̪̰͕̖̥̅̍̇̍̈́̽ͫ̒͋͝r̸̛̗̝͈̣̩̻̰̺̬̲̼̿͗͌ͪͥ͌ͤͥ̇̌͛̑͌́ ̡̰̝͇̮̰͓̻̖͈̲̭ͬ̈́͊͗̒ͭ́o̡͗̏͂̊̄̇ͮ͌͊̄̔҉͕̯͈̝̠̬͙̗͈̼̦̣͇̭͇͍̘̣͜w̷̢͂̒ͭ̃̃͞҉̞͍̯̩̮͚̟͔̰̪̝͕̰̞͓̗̱̝͖͢ṉ̶̗̫͕̺͚͉̓ͫ̍̋͗ͩ͂̂͊ͭ͌ͫͣͪ͐̇́͜͡͞ body. But somehow, Homura would lower the gun and remind herself that she has so many unfulfilled promises in her head. She had to kill off  Walpurgisnacht before she even thought about killing herself.

              Sometimes when her former friends look upon her as strangers, Homura can hear their angry and hurt voices. She can see blood on them. She would see their empty eyes. They hate her and that’s okay for she hates herself too. But Homura had a duty to keep marching forward instead of giving up and ending herself. No time for looking back, Homura would keep on going and try her best to cope with all the bad memories. All the bad things will not matter when she keeps everyone alive and defeats Walpurgisnacht. Even if she can keep everyone alive, their deaths still haunt her. She can recognize their screams and who which scream belongs to. She has seen everyone at their worst and she has heard their finals last words. She has seen many sides of a lot of people.

             Homura decides to dream of more simple and unrealistic days, building up a picturesque world where everyone is happy. Later down the line, this make believe world will be her witch’s barrier and her dream. The girl who could not sleep will become sleeping beauty with her tainted soul gem and she will dream of a happy world - where you fight off nightmares and everyone is alive. Everyone is not alone. One day, she will shatter her own dream and wake up to make that dream a reality. Even if she plays the part of the self-proclaimed devil, she will make everything better one day. For now, she has yet to prick her finger on the spindle and she has yet to truly fall into a death-like sleep. For now, she is awake and facing each day with desperate determination. Soon, ş̡͔̯̰̘̞̠̞̹̜̈́ͯ̐ͧͥͮͣ̏ͥ̅̑̑̅̈̽ͪ́̚͜ḽ̴͙͕̲̻̟̭͍̗̜̫͖̻̲̲̝̰̌͊̋ͬ̐̕e̢̱͚̥̱̝̩̰͓͕̦̬̭͕̖̯͊̓͆̏̕̕͝e̞̳͎͔̖͈̺̩̯̯̜͙͔͍̲̖ͮ̐̑͌̃̆ͦͩ͋̕p̵̡̱̲͉̥̙͇ͩ̿̾͆̋̃ͥͤ̆̇̾͞ĩ̸̛̜̺̹̝̳̺͚͖͈̼̀͛ͥ͊̒ͤ͋̅͑̾̚n̷̏͂̎͒̓͊͒̃̀ͨ̊̄̔͛̉̆͛ͨͪ͏̫͙̲̟̘̲̳̦̯͖̝͞͞ͅͅg̶̢̐̈ͣ͂͐͌̃́̓͡҉̩̩̠̻̣͝ ̛͛͒̇ͪͣ͜͏҉̴̻̣͉̜͎̥̘̘̥̞̦b̡̖͉̬̩͔̖̫̠͍̰͓̼̩͎͔̠̱̲̺̔ͪ̒̑̇̾ͩ͒ͦͤ̾͋̾̀eͭ̊̓̈́̅̊ͧ̃̏ͩ̃̍̕҉̖̹͍͈̤̲̯̬̪̠͘ͅͅa̶̻̼̝̠̺̭̺̖̖̦̳͓̟̦̝͈̠ͥͩ͗͑ͤ̽͐̈́ͦ̅̿ͩ̒ͭ́͞ͅû̗̫̹̮͕̹͈͎̼̯̯̜̲̣͎́͌͊̀͋̎̉̓̕͟t̷̢͗ͫͧ̅̊̿ͩ̈́̾͊͆ͬ̔̈̈͒҉͓̰̜̟͝͡y͖͈̩̖̏̈ͬ̆ͧͫ͊ͤ̀͐̾̊ͯ́̃ͮ̇̔͘ ̷̂̓ͣ͊̀͟͠҉̗̺̯̤͔̯will prick her finger and be allowed to dream of sweet nothings.