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winchesterbrotherstan · 4 years

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SPN- Playthings (2.11)

Pairing: Olive Winchester (sister OC)

Summary: After a month of searching for Ava with no results, the siblings accept a case from Ellen. Sam spirals after a secret is revealed, Olive plays caretaker, and Dean makes a promise he can’t keep.

Warnings: uh, like a ghost, the word gun is in there one time (wow), uh there’s some cursing, DOLLS ARE FUCKING CREEPY OKAY, uhh, olive says the word milf, uh like, idk?? mentions of dead ppl??

Word Count: 6079

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Ellen.” Sam hung up the phone as I unlocked the door, pushing it open with my foot.

“What’d she have to say?” Dean shut the door behind him.

“Oh, she’s got nothing.” Sam sighed. “Me, I’ve been checking every database I can think of. Federal, state, local. No one’s heard anything about Ava. She just… into thin air, you know?”

Dean sighed and handed Sam one of the coffee cups. Sam looked over at us with hopeful puppy eyes.

“What about you?”

Dean and I shared a look. I shook my head and turned back to Sam.

“Nothing yet. I’m sorry, bubs.”

Sam sighed. “Ellen did have one thing.”

“What was it?” Dean sat down at the table.

I dropped onto Sam’s bed and began to work at my shoes.

“A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past three weeks.”

Dean looked at me. I shrugged.

“I’m confused, what’s this have to do with Ava?”

Sam shook his head. “No, it’s just a job. A lady drowned in the bathtub, then a few days ago a guy falls down the stairs. His head does a complete one-eighty. Not exactly normal, you know. I dunno, guys, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we’d think about checking it out.”

Sam looked at us. I shrugged again.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Wait, you did?” Dean furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yeah.” Sam frowned. “Why do you seem surprised?”

“Well, it’s just… you know…” Dean scratched the back of his neck. “Not the uh, patented Sam Winchester way. Is it?”

Sam raised an eyebrow.. “And what way is that?”

“Oh, you know, I just figured that after Ava, there’d be, uh… ya now, more angst and droopy music and staring out rainy windows and-”

Sam shot Dean a bitchface, and he chuckled.

“Okay. I’ll shut up now.”

“Look.” Sam huffed. “I’m the one who told her to go back home. And now her fiancé’s dead and some demon snatched her and took her God knows where. But we’ve been looking for a month now, and we’ve still got nothing. I’m not giving up on her, but I’m not gonna sit by and let other people die either. We’ve gotta save as many people as we can.”

“Wow.” Dean blinked. “That attitude is just way too healthy for me. I’m officially uncomfortable now. Thanks.”

Sam ducked his head and laughed. I shuffled from the bed to stand behind him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and leaned over him. He patted my arm with a smile.

“Alright.” Dean huffed dramatically. “Call Ellen, tell her we’ll take it.”

***

I yawned as Dean put the Impala in park. We had stayed in the car for the night, and with Jinx and my most recent growth spurt, it proved to be more difficult than we had remembered. I kicked Dean in my sleep, and my leg had twisted up weird.

“Dude, this is sweet.” Dean grinned as we poured out of the car. “I never get to work jobs like this.”

“Like what?”

“Old school haunted houses, you know? Fog, secret passageways… sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we’re inside.” Dean closed his eyes with a smile and a soft sigh. “Mmm, Daphne. Love her.”

I shook my head as we started up the porch stairs.

“Hey, wait a sec.” Sam held a hand out, stopping us both short.

I turned back down the steps, staring at an urn on the side of the stairs. Dean stopped walking and looked at us over his shoulder.

“I’m not so sure haunted’s the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“See the pattern?” Sam squatted next to the urn and tapped a five point symbol engraved in a sun. “That’s a quincunx.”

“A five-spot.” I hummed.

“Five-spot.” Dean repeated.

“Yeah.”

“That’s used for hoodoo spellwork, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. You fill this thing with bloodweed and you’ve got a powerful charm to ward off enemies.”

“Yeah, except I don’t see any bloodweed.” Dean smacked his lips. “Don’t you think this place is a little too, uh… whitemeat for hoodoo?”

Sam huffed as we looked around. “Maybe.”

We filed into the inn one by one. Dean caught the front lady’s attention, and Sam and I took our sweet time closing the door, observing the old timey interior.

“May I help you?”

“Hi, yeah, I’d like a room for a couple of nights.” Dean smiled.

Sam and I shared a look before he stepped into the lobby. A little girl wearing an old school-uniform bumped into Sam’s legs as she ran across the room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight, and Jinx barked. I knelt next to her and shushed her, smoothing her fur out.

“Hey!” The lady shouted before looking at Sam. “I’m so sorry about that.”

Sam shook his head, a dismissive frown on his face. “No problem.”

“Well, um, congratulations. You could be some of our final guests.”

“Well. Sounds vaguely ominous.” Dean huffed.

“No, I’m sorry. I mean we’re closing at the end of the month.” The lady looked over the two. “Let me guess. You guys are here antiquing?”

Dean looked back at Sam with a why not look before turning back. “How’d you know?”

“Oh, you just look the type.”

I could sense Dean’s discomfort. Sam stepped forward.

“Sorry, uh, are you guys pet friendly? She’s well trained, we just didn’t have anywhere to leave her.”

“Normally we’re not, but since we’re so close to shutting down, it’s fine.”

Sam nodded at me and I slowly brought Jinx in.

“So, uh, one king-sized bed?”

“What?” Sam blinked.

“Oh, oh, oh, uh, no. No, no, no.” I shook my head, popping in between the two. “No, two singles.” I circled my finger around the three of us. “We’re just siblings.”

“Oh.” The lady’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Dean tilted his head. “What’d you mean that we look the type?”

She stared down while looking for something to say. Sam cleared his throat.

“You know, speaking of antiques, you have a really, really interesting urn on the front porch. Where’d you get that?”

“Oh, I have no idea.” She smiled, grateful for the out. “It’s been there forever.”

She handed Dean a room key. “Here you go, Mr. Mahagov.”

Dean gave her the classic white-people smile and took the key. “Thanks.”

The lady rang the bell on the counter. “You’ll be staying in room 237. Sherwin, could you show these fine folks to their room?”

Dean and I turned to see an old, balding man dressed formally shuffling up behind us. “Let me guess. Antiquers?”

The three of us bit our tongues as Sherwin took Dean’s bag from him and began to lead us up the stairs. Sam and I opted to keep ours on our shoulders. Sam scooped Jinx off her feet and held her to his chest as we followed Sherwin. Dean’s duffel bag wouldn’t stop clunking, and I was horrified a gun would somehow go off. Dean scratched the back of his neck.

“I could give you a hand with that bag.”

“I got it.”

“Okay.” Dean licked his lips and gave me a look.

I patted his arm. Sam cleared his throat.

“So, the hotel’s closing up, huh?”

“Yep. Miss Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don’t come like they used to. Still, it’s a damn shame.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sam spoke in a tell-us-more tone.

“It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace. Two different vice-presidents laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here, I practically grew up here. Gonna miss it.” Sherwin sighed as he unlocked our room and pushed the door open. “Here’s your room.”

He handed Sam the key and nodded as we shuffled into the room. Dean turned to shut the door, only to see that Sherwin was standing there, hand out.

“You’re not gonna… cheap out on me. Are you, boy?”

Dean sighed as he pulled out his wallet.

***

Sam ran a hand through his hair as he skimmed over the paper in his hand. I yawned and put down the paper I had just finished reading. Dean was pacing. He let out a dry chuckle, then a mumble of curses.

“What?” Sam and I didn’t look up.

“That’s normal.” Dean huffed.

I looked up as he stood next to me, arms crossed over his chest. There was an old wedding dress pinned up to the wall. I sucked in air through my teeth as Dean moved to sit on one of the beds.

“Why the hell would anyone stay here? I’m amazed they kept in business this long.” He dropped onto the bed, which sunk further under him.

“Alright, victim number one.” I spoke up, waving the paper. “Joan Edison, forty three years old. Realtor handling the sale of the hotel. Victim number two?” I looked over at Sam.

“Larry Williams. Moving some stuff out to Goodwill.”

“Well, there’s a connection. They’re both tied up in shutting the place down.”

“Yeah.” Sam hummed. “Maybe somebody here doesn’t wanna leave, and they’re using hoodoo to fight back.”

“Who do you think our witch doctor is? That Susan lady?”

“Nah.” Sam shook his head. “Doesn’t seem likely. I mean, she is the one selling.”

“Maybe Sherwin?” I offered.

“I don’t know.” Sam shrugged.

“Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we’re gay?”

“Well…” Sam hummed. “You are kinda butch. Probably think you’re overcompensating.”

I snorted. “It’s cause you’re a bottom and Sam’s not.” I mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” I mumbled again.

“Ha fucking ha.” Dean narrowed his eyes at me with a huff.

***

“This place is weird.” I stuck to Dean’s side as we poked around the hallways.

“Hey, look.” Sam pulled another urn off a table. “More hoodoo.”

Dean made a face before looking around. He stalked off toward a door marked PRIVATE and knocked. Sam put the urn down and we crowded Dean in the doorway, eyes wide as we looked around.

The door opened, revealing Susan. “Hi.”

“Hi there.” Dean gave his charming grin.

“Everything okay with your room?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, yeah everything’s great.”

“Well-”

“Well, I was, I was just in the middle of packing.” She cut Dean off as the three of us talked over each other.

“Hey!” Dean’s face lit up as he looked past her. “Are those antique dolls? Cause this one,” he turned and picked his victim. “Sammy here’s got a major doll collection back home. Don’t ya?”

He gave Susan a polite smile that, hopefully, screamed murder to Dean. “Big time.”

“Big time. You think he could come, or we could come in and take a look?”

Susan shifted. “I don’t know…”

“Please?” Dean begged. “I mean, he loves them. He’s not gonna tell you this, but he’s uh, he’s always dressing em up in their tiny little outfits, and uh,” he shrugged, “honestly, you’d make his day. You- she would, huh?” He turned to Sam with a grin.

Sam looked sick. “It’s true.”

“Okay.” Susan stepped aside. “Come on in.”

“Alright! Alright.” Dean slapped Sam’s back as we trudged into the room.

Sam gave him another death glare and I pushed myself between the two as we looked around the room.

“Wow.” Dean hummed. “That’s a lot of dolls.” He feigned a smile. “I mean, they’re nice, ya know.” He looked down at me and mumbled. “Not super creepy at all.”

Susan laughed. “Yeah, I suppose they are a little creepy. But they’ve been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value.”

“What is this?” Sam was on the other end of the room, walking around a huge dollhouse. “The hotel?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Susan smiled. “Exact replica, custom built.”

Sam frowned and picked something up off the ground. “His head got twisted around.” He held a doll up so Dean and I could see.

Dean and I shared a look before turning to Susan.

“What happened to it?”

“Oh, Tyler, probably.”

We forced understanding smiles, and the second Susan turned her back, we gave each other bug eyes.

What the fuck?

“Mommy!” Tyler ran in. “Maggie’s being mean!”

“Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, okay.”

“Hey, Tyler.” Sam came over with a soft smile on his face. “I see you broke your doll. You want me to fix it?”

“I didn’t break it.” Tyler pouted. “I found it like that.”

“Oh.” Sam smiled wider. “Well, maybe Maggie did it.”

I sighed. Sometimes it broke my heart to know he’d never have a family of his own.

“No.” Tyler shook her head. “Neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke them.”

“Oh, Tyler.” Susan hummed. “She wouldn’t get mad.”

“Grandma?” Dean took a step forward.

“Grandma Rose. These were all her toys.”

“Oh, really?” Dean looked around. “Where’s Grandma Rose now?”

“Up in her room.”

“You know, I’d, I’d, uh, I’d really love to talk to Rose about her incredible doll-”

“No.” Susan cut Sam off. “I mean, I’m afraid that’s impossible. My mother’s been very sick and she’s not taking any visitors.”

We were promptly ushered out of the room, and the door was shut behind us.

“What do you guys think?” Dean began. “Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma?”

“Boys, I hate to say it, I really do. But I think we’re in a horror movie.”

Sam ran a hand over his face and Dean gave me a gentle push. “Every time you say that, something goes terribly wrong. Have you realized that?”

I frowned. “No. I just kinda say things.”

Sam sighed. “Okay, well dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo. Curses, binding spells…”

“Yeah, maybe we’ve found our witch doctor. Alright, I’ll see what I can go dig up on booming granny. You go get online, check old obits, freak accidents, that sort of thing. See if she’s whacked anybody before.”

***

“Jesus Christ.” I hissed as I shut the room door behind me, leaning on it.

Sam looked up, teary eyed. “What happened?”

“Uh… lawyer. He hung himself.”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down. His shoulders began to shake, and I felt my heart soften.

“Sammy…”

He looked up, tears falling down in streaks. “Jessica was pregnant.”

I stopped cold. “What?”

He pushed his hair out of his face. “She was pregnant. Becky called me.”

“Becky… Becky from a year ago?”

He nodded. “She knew, and she never said a thing.”

“Hold on, Sammy…” I trailed off as I sat down on the table. “When?”

He looked away. “When…” He licked his lips and let out a strangled sob. “When she died.”

He began to weep, and I scrambled to my feet, pulling him into my chest. He gripped fistfuls of my jacket, and I ran a hand through his hair as the other held his shoulders tightly.

“Sammy, I’m so sorry.” I whispered.

“I couldn’t save the lawyer. I couldn’t even save Jess.” He whimpered.

“Sams, neither were your fault.”

“I was gonna be a dad.”

“I am so sorry, Sammy.” I pressed a long kiss to the top of his head and bit back my own tears.

“I should’ve done something.”

I rubbed his back. “Sams, there is nothing you could’ve done.”

He pulled back and wiped his face. “I dreamt about it! I could’ve done something! I could’ve saved her! What if something happens to you? O-o-or to Dean? I’m useless.”

My heart shattered, and I cupped his face, bending down so that we were nose to nose.

“You are not useless. You’re my brother. Dean and I need you.”

He shook his head, pushing my hands away. “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

He stumbled to his feet, and I sighed as his breath hit my face. I grabbed his wrists and pulled him back.

“Sams, you’re drunk.”

“So? You think I won’t be able to go on a walk?” He challenged.

“No.” I whispered. “But I’m not gonna let you go out into a haunted hotel while you’re wasted.”

He huffed. “I just-”

“Do you need to be alone?”

He nodded.

“Okay.” I tugged him back toward his chair. “Stay here. I’ll go for a walk.” I glanced at my watch. “I’ll be back in half an hour. Okay?”

He nodded again as he dropped into his seat. I cupped his face again.

“I love you. Okay?”

He nodded.

“I’ll be back soon.” I kissed his head again before grabbing Jinx’s leash and calling her over.

She bolted out the door and sat in the hall. I looked over my shoulder to see Sam with his head in his hands. I sighed and shut the door.

***

Jinx yawned as she dropped to her stomach. I had walked her around the neighborhood, which was, like the hotel, creepy. It was picturesque, but the antique feeling was everywhere, and it was one I didn’t like.

Somebody started up the stairs, and I didn’t look up as I scooted over, trying to give them more space to walk.

“Sweetheart?”

I looked up to see Dean. I sighed.

“What happened? Where’s Sam?”

“Um…” I stood and avoided eye contact.

“Ol.” Dean craned his neck to catch my eye. “Why did I see a coroner’s van-”

“A lawyer hung himself.”

“Jesus.” Dean huffed.

“Look… Jess was pregnant.”

“What?”

“Jessica. When she died. She was pregnant. Sam just found out.”

Dean’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Wh…”

“Just cut him some slack. Okay?”

Dean huffed. “Fine. Come on.”

We trudged up the stairs and into the lobby in silence.

“Uh, hey.” Susan caught our attention. “I’m sure you heard about the lawyer… look, if you’d like to check out, I can give you a full refund.”

I shook my head. “No. Thanks.”

“We don’t scare that easily.” Dean pulled me to keep walking.

He led the way up the stairs and pushed the door open.

“There’s been another one. Lawyer hung himself.” He called into the room.

“We know.” Sam grunted.

I shut the door and flicked the lights on.

“We’ve gotta figure this out, and fast.” Dean huffed. “What’d you find out about Granny?”

“You’re bossy.” Sam snorted out.

I cursed to myself as Dean spun around. “What?”

“You’re bossy. And short.” Sam let out a sloppy laugh.

A glare formed on Dean’s face as he looked my way, then back at Sam. “Are you drunk?”

“Yeah.” Sam laughed again. “So? Stupid.”

Dean looked around and spotted the empty bottles. His shoulders fell and he shook his head at me. I looked down at the ground.

“Dude. What are you thinking? We’re working a case.” Dean barked out.

Sam stared down at the ground, tearful again. “That guy who hung himself. I couldn’t save him.”

“What are you talking about? You didn’t know. You couldn’t have done anything, Sam.

“That’s an excuse, Dean.” Sam huffed. “I should’ve found a way to save him. I should’ve saved Ava, too.”

Dean made a face, and I grabbed his wrist. “Hey. Slack. Remember? We’re cutting him some slack.”

Dean sighed and took a few steps toward Sam. “Well, you can’t save everyone. Even you said that.”

“No, Dean, you don’t understand!” Sam slammed the table. “The more people I save, the more I can change!”

My heart fell to my stomach.

“Change what, Sam?” Dean shook his head.

“My destiny, Dean!” Sam leaned forward, his hands on his chest

Dean sighed. “Alright. Time for bed. Come on, Sasquatch.” He pulled Sam up by the shoulders. “Come on.”

“I need you to watch out for me.” Sam huffed as Dean pushed him toward the bed.

“I always do.”

“No! No, no, no. You have to watch out for me, alright? And if I ever…” Sam huffed again. “Turn into something that I’m not…”

My skin began to crawl, and Dean tilted his head.

“You have to kill me.” Sam looked over Dean’s shoulder, at me. “Either of you.”

“No!” I spat.

“Sam.” Dean’s tone was dismissive.

“Dean! Dad told you to do it, you have to.”

“Yeah, well, Dad was an ass.” Dean snarled.

Sam frowned, confusion washing over his face.

“He never should have said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't, you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids.”

“No. He was right to say it! Who knows what I might become?” Sam whined. “Even now, everyone around me dies!”

“Yeah, well, Olive and I aren’t dying, okay?”

“And neither are you.” I hissed as I helped Dean maneuver Sam onto the bed. “Come on, Sams.”

He sat on the bed, but he wouldn’t lay down. He grabbed Dean’s jacket and pulled him close. “No, Dean, please!” Sam whined again. “You’re the only one who can do it. Promise.”

“Don’t ask that of me.” Dean shook his head.

“Dean, please.” Sam begged. “You have to promise me.”

Dean looked away, and I caught his eye. I shook my head, eyes wide and full of tears. Dean sniffled, tears collecting in his own eyes.

“Don’t.” I hissed.

He looked back at Sam. “I promise.”

“Thanks.” Sam reached up to grab Dean’s face. “Thank you.”

Dean batted Sam’s hand away. I climbed onto the bed and pulled Sam to lay down as Dean lifted his legs onto the bed. Sam turned and planted his face onto my chest, wrapping both of his arms around me. I hugged him back and glared at Dean as he ran a hand over his face.

***

“Oh god.” Sam’s voice was hoarse.

“Sams?” I whispered.

He slowly rolled onto his back with a huff. “Oh fuck.”

“Hey.” I sat up and pushed his hair out of his face.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

“Oh. Oh god, oh no.” I hissed as he scrambled off the bed, stumbling his way to the bathroom.

He barely made it as he threw up. I groaned. Taking care of the boys while they were black out drunk was one thing, but hungover and throwing up was another story.

“Oh, bambi.” I whispered, helping him settle on his knees. “Come on, let’s take your jacket off.” I eased the denim fabric from his shoulders.

“Shit.” He groaned.

“Come on. Shoes, too.” I rubbed his shoulders.

“You don’t have to take care of me.” He fussed as he kicked his shoes off.

“You always take care of me.” I knelt by his side and brushed a thumb over his cheek. “Let me take care of you.”

He gave me a soft smile, but it fell. His face drained of color, and he turned back to the toilet. I sighed as I rubbed his back. He spat into the toilet again. I shushed him soothingly.

“How are you feeling, Sammy?” Dean all but shouted as he entered the room, out of view.

Sam groaned before dry heaving. I stood up and crouched behind him, pulling his hair into a small ponytail. I tucked what didn’t stay behind his ears.

“I guess mixing whiskey and Jäger wasn’t such a gangbuster idea, huh?”

Sam ignored him.

“I’ll bet you don’t remember a single thing from last night, do you?” Dean asked, hope in his eyes.

I shot him a glare, and he cleared his throat. Sam only huffed before letting out another groan.

“No, I can still taste the fucking tequila.”

A relieved smile grew on Dean’s face, and I sighed as I rubbed Sam’s back again, sitting on the edge of the tub. He leaned down on his feet with a groan. I pulled the hand towel off the ring and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He dropped onto his butt and leaned into me, head hitting my chest. I cooed as I pushed stray hairs from his face.

“You know, there’s a really good hangover remedy.” Dean cracked a devilish grin.

“Dean.” I warned.

“It’s a, uh, it’s a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray.”

“Oh, I hate you.” Sam popped back to his knees to throw up.

“I know you do.” Dean laughed. “Hey, turns out when Grandma Rose was a tyke, she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace.” He leaned in the doorway and huffed, waving the air in front of his nose. “God, it fucking stinks in here.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” I grumbled back.

“Whew.” Dean hummed. “Sometimes I forget you have better senses than we do.”

“Okay, you think the nanny taught Rose hoodoo?”

“Yes I do.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

“Alright.” Sam stumbled to his feet. “I think it’s time we’ve talked to Rose, then.”

His breath hit my face and I held back my own gag. “Oh, Sams.” I stepped back. “You’ve gotta brush your teeth first.”

***

“I’ll see you guys later.” I pressed a kiss to Sam’s cheek, then to Dean’s.

“See you, baby.” Dean grinned.

“Love you, bug.” Sam gave me a kind smile.

“Love you guys too. Be safe.”

“Always, you too!” Dean called as I shut the car door and started across the parking lot.

I tugged on the straps of my backpack as I walked up the steps and into the school. I fished the crumpled schedule from my back pocket and sighed.

World geography.

“Hey.”

I looked up to see a blond boy my age smiling at me.

“Hi.” I feigned a smile back.

“Need help finding your classes? I moved here a few years ago, I’ve got the building pretty much down.” He chuckled.

I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“Adam.” He held his hand out.

I shook it. “Olive.”

He chuckled. “Nice name.”

I rolled my eyes with a smile. “Thanks. My brothers love food.”

“Brothers?” He repeated as we walked. “Yikes.”

I shook my head. “Nah. They’re good. You got any siblings?”

“I’m an only child.”

I let out a low whistle. “Sucks.”

***

“See ya around, Olive!” Adam waved.

I put a hand up. “See ya.”

“Hey, kid.” Dean grinned as he pulled up, windows down.

“Hey, De. Hi, Sams.” I slid into the backseat.

Jinx was curled up, and our bags were on the floor. I furrowed my eyebrows.

“What happened?”

“Oh, uh…”

“We got kicked out.”

“What?” My eyes widened as I looked up. “How? Why?”

“Susan caught us trying to talk to Rose.”

“Oh god.” I rolled my eyes.

“Look, she had a stroke. There’s no way she was practicing hoodoo.”

I sighed and leaned forward as Dean drove off. “Then what’s happening at the hotel?”

The boys shook their heads. I sighed again.

“Let’s go back.”

“What?”

“We can’t, sweetie.”

“Yes we can.” I scoffed.

“How?” Dean eyed me in the rearview.

I shrugged. “Easy. I’ll just tell her you guys forgot to pack some of my stuff. She seemed to like me. She’ll let me back in.”

The boys shared a brief look, and Dean sighed. “Fine. Ten minutes, in and out.”

I grinned. “Works for me.”

***

“Is that…” Sam squinted and leaned forward.

“Shit, Dean, stop the car!” I squeaked.

He slammed the brakes, and I pushed the door open before taking off in a sprint, tackling Susan out of the way. The car crashed into the tree on the edge of the playground and Susan panted as we sat up.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I think so.”

“Come on, come on.” Dean and Sam came scrambling.

I got to my feet, and my knee slipped out from under me. I crashed onto my ass with a grumble. Dean sighed and plucked me off the ground as Sam helped Susan up.

“Inside, let’s go.”

Sam led the way, guiding Susan by the shoulders. She huffed as we walked into the dining room.

“Whiskey.” She sat down.

“Sure.” Sam scoffed. “I know the feeling.”

Susan looked up as Dean eased me into a seat at the table. I hissed as he knelt down, rubbing my knee.

“What the fuck happened out there?” Susan demanded.

Sam and I blinked, and Dean popped my knee. I let out a curse as I shot up straight, tears in my eyes.

“You want the truth?” Dean asked.

“Of course!”

“Well, at first we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse, but that out there?” Dean let out a whistle. “That was definitely a spirit.”

Sam handed her a glass of whiskey before sitting down next to me.

Susan stared. “You’re insane.”

“Yeah, it’s been said.” Dean hummed.

I shifted in my seat, trying to straighten my leg out. “Look, I’m sorry, Susan, but we don’t exactly have time to ease you into this. We need to know when your mother had the stroke.”

“What does that have to do-”

“Just answer the question.” Sam cut her off.

“Uh, about a month ago.”

“Right before the killings began.” Sam mumbled before looking at me and Dean. “See? So what if Rose was working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone. To protect them.”

I sighed. “She was using the five-spots to ward off the spirit.”

“Right.” Sam nodded. “Until she had a stroke and she couldn’t anymore.”

“I don’t believe this.” Susan shook her head.

“Listen, sister, that car didn’t try to run you down by itself, okay? I mean, I guess it did, technically, but, but the spirit can… forget it.”

“Look, you can believe whatever you the fuck you want to. But the fact is that you and your family are in danger. Okay? So you need to clear everyone out of here. Your employees, your mother, your kids, everyone.”

“Uh… I only have one daughter.”

Sam squinted. “One?”

“I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie?” Dean tilted his head.

Susan scoffed. “Maggie’s imaginary.”

Sam’s jaw twitched, Dean’s eyebrows furrowed, and I buried my hands in my head.

“Mother fucker.”

“Where’s Tyler?”

Susan’s eyes went wide before she bolted. We scrambled over each other’s feet, following her up the stairs and to her private room. She struggled with the door before pushing it open.

“Tyler!”

The floor was littered with broken dolls. Sam and Dean gave each other a look.

“Oh my god. Tyler!” Susan ran through another door, calling for her daughter.

I ducked, checking under furniture as the boys tore through the closets. Susan came back, running.

“She’s not here!”

“Okay, okay. Susan. Susan.” Sam grabbed her by the shoulders. “Tell us what you know about Maggie.”

“Um, not much. Tyler’s been talking about her ever since Mom got sick.”

“Okay, did you ever know anyone by that name?”

“Uh, no!”

“Think, think.” Dean pressured. “I mean, somebody that could’ve lived here?”

“Maybe someone who passed away?” I offered.

“Oh my god.” Susan’s face drained of color. “My mom. My mom had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her.”

The three of us shared a look.

“Did Margaret happen to die here when she was a kid?”

“Yeah, she drowned in the pool.”

Dean made a face as he began to move. “Come on.”

***

Dean ran ahead, and Sam and I followed, Susan only a few steps behind. The dead garden seemed more eerie now than it had before. Sam reached the door first, trying to unlock it. It didn’t budge. Tyler was on the edge of the balcony inside, only a slip away from falling into the pool.

“Tyler!” Susan called.

Dean and Sam pounded on the glass, trying to break it.

“Mommy!” Tyler squealed.

She fell in with a scream.

“Tyler!”

“Is there another entrance?” Dean asked.

“Around back.”

“Okay, come on.” Dean pulled Susan away before turning to us. “Keep working.”

Sam and I continued to elbow the door, and I let out a grunt as I slammed my shoulder against the frame. It didn’t budge. Sam groaned, looking around. He stopped before grabbing something. He pushed me aside before slamming a pot into the door. The glass began to crack, and Sam began to work harder. He finally got through, the door shattering. He jammed himself through and, without hesitation, leapt over the railing, into the pool.

“Sam!” I squeaked as I ran in, leaning over the railing.

He wasted no time pushing past the plastic cover. I watched as he swam toward Tyler before scooping her up in his arms. I bolted down the steps, reaching his side. I pulled Tyler from his arms and set her down on her side. Sam clambered out of the pool as Dean and Susan burst in. I patted Tyler’s back, and she coughed. Sam helped me push her up to sit, and Susan pulled her into a bear hug.

“Mommy.” She whined.

“Yeah, baby. I’m here. I’m right here.” Susan cried.

“Tyler, do you see Maggie anywhere?” Sam gave her sympathetic eyes.

“No, she’s gone.” She snuggled back into Susan. “Mommy.”

***

“Don’t worry, honey, we’re leaving in two minutes. We’ve just got to get Grandma.” Susan cooed as she held Tyler against her side, moving up the stairs.

“I don’t get it.” Dean hissed. “Did Maggie just stop?”

“Seems like it.” Sam shrugged, hair dripping.

“Well, where the hell did she go?” I asked.

Susan screamed from upstairs. Sam reacted first, bolting up the steps. Dean and I followed. Sam busted through the door. Susan was holding Tyler against her side, crying. The three of us sighed when we saw Rose slumped in her wheelchair.

She was dead.

***

“Paramedics said it was another stroke. Do you think… Margaret could’ve had something to do with it?” Susan asked.

“We don’t know.” Dean shrugged.

“But, it’s possible.” I followed up, tugging on Jinx’s leash so that she would sit.

Sam sighed. “Susan, I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “You have nothing to apologize for. You’ve given me everything.”

Tyler came down the steps, dressed in regular clothing. She had a small smile on her face as she joined her mother. Susan rubbed her back, and Tyler bent down to pet Jinx.

“Ready to go, kiddo?”

“Yeah.”

“Now, Tyler.” Dean bent down to be eye-level with her. “You’re sure Maggie’s not around anymore?”

“I’m sure.” Tyler nodded. “I’d see her.”

“I guess whatever’s going on must be over.” Dean shrugged as we followed Susan down the steps, to her taxi.

Sam held the door open for her, and Susan ushered Tyler into the cab.

“You two take care of yourselves, alright?”

Susan turned and pulled Sam into a hug, resting her head on his chest. Dean snorted, and I wheezed, pulling on a serious face and rubbing my nose when Susan pulled back.

“Thank you.” She looked at Sam, then at Dean and I. “All of you.”

We nodded as she shuffled into the taxi. Sam shut the door behind her and I laughed, covering my mouth.

“Dude, you could’ve just gotten some total MILF action.” I giggled as we began to walk.

“Ew, Ollie-”

“No, seriously, bud, I think she liked you.”

“Yeah.” Sam scoffed. “That’s all she needs.”

“Well, you saved the mom, saved the girl.” I patted Sam’s arm. “Not a bad day, bubs.”

“Course, I could’ve saved them myself, but I didn’t want you to feel useless.” Dean teased.

My heart sank as I remembered what Sam had said last night.

“Appreciate it.” Sam gave Dean a bitch face.

He sensed my shift in attitude and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, tugging me into his side.

“Feels good getting back in the saddle. Doesn’t it?” Dean grinned and pulled out the car keys.

“Yeah.” Sam sighed. “Yeah, it does.” He took his arm back and braced his hands against the top of the car. “But it doesn’t change what we talked about last night, Dean.”

My chest clenched and tears immediately welled in my eyes. I looked down and away, taking a shaky breath. I opened the back door and let Jinx settle in.

“We talked about a lot of things last night.” Dean tried to change the subject.

“You know what I mean.” Sam shook his head.

“You were wasted.” Dean scowled.

“But you weren’t. And you promised.” Sam shot back.

They looked at each other for a beat. Sam pulled the passenger door open first, and I slid into the middle seat, wrapping my arms around myself. Sam got in, slamming the door shut as Dean closed his, gently.

He started the car and glanced Sam’s way. Sam kept his eyes straight ahead as we pulled away from the inn.

Previous Ep: Hunted (2.10)

Next Ep: Nightshifter (2.12)

taglist: @i67

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buncompass · 4 years

Note

(Insert tea emoji bc desktop) - Bryon, Sherlock Holmes, The Craft

HOKAY SO

Byron was one of the baddest bitches of the Romantic era and his magnum opus is SO taken out of context that it makes my inner elitist cringe whenever someone in modern times is referred to as “a Don Juan.” For one, the titular character was NOT a womanizer - he is actively pursued. Dude lets ladies make the first move! Second, Don Juan was a BITING, a SCATHING satire of the socio-political climate of the time. It was supposed to be embarrassing! LIKE. It was a commentary on how the big players of the time were easy to manipulate and therefore NOT GOOD RULERS. Byron wasn’t even trying to hide his contempt! It would be the modern equivalent of saying something like “and the American’s ruler, Tremp, with his mop of hair and loud-faced nonsense” and THEN people would ASK HIM “hey is this poem about [insert politician here] and he was just like “lol no it’s about Don Juan what do you mean”. Also he lived deliciously. I’m not even kidding. Please just google “fun facts about Lord Byron” and look into him. He is the original hot mess.

Sherlock Holmes can be interpreted in so many different ways, and unfortunately he has been. I am so, so over the variations of Holmes. Think of any new detective. Or, if you must make an old-timey detective movie, give me a gritty Nancy Drew! Or go the Veronica Mars route! Holmes isn’t the only one who can detect things! Give me a revamp of The Murders in the Rue Morgue - the first damn detective story - rather than yet another watered down superdetective. For the love of all that is good. Don’t get me wrong - I love a good mystery. But give me a good mystery.

The Craft is iconique. Unparalleled. The storyline is far deeper than friends who are also witches it is a commentary on the intoxication of power. I could write a thesis on this. Power can be taken by most anyone, but the way they handle that power is more important than the power itself. Strength is not brute force and manipulation, but the quiet, sensible ability to know what is right and what is wrong is what makes someone truly scary.

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thefilmsnob · 4 years

Text

Glen Coco’s Top 10 films of 2019

2019 was one of the better movie years I’ve experienced. It was no 2007 or 2013--we all know that--but it was pretty damn good. People who say ‘they just make crap nowadays’ probably aren’t really into movies and are definitely out to lunch. Dammit, now I want lunch. Anyway, here are my picks for the ten best films of 2019 which, as always, follow my runners-up and the traditional bonus track...There’s always a bonus track.

Runners-Up

-Bombshell

-Booksmart Full Review: https://thefilmsnob.tumblr.com/post/185427895290/booksmart-out-of-5

-Ford v Ferrari

-The Irishman

-Joker Full Review: https://thefilmsnob.tumblr.com/post/188571262775/joker-out-of-5

-Parasite

-The Peanut Butter Falcon

-The Two Popes

And here are my top 10!

#10b. (Bonus Track) Avengers: Endgame

Director: Anthony Russo, Joe Russo

Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson, the rest of Hollywood

Maybe, like some people in the industry, you don’t consider Marvel films to be ‘cinema’. Well, that’s a legitimate and long debate for another time. But, you can’t say that weaving a narrative through 22 related films isn’t an impressive feat. That’s what Marvel Studios did and with the help of the Russo Brothers, and despite the countless moving pieces, they ended this chapter of the franchise almost perfectly with just the right balance of action, human drama, twists, turns and some surprisingly poignant moments. If you didn’t get goosebumps--and maybe even pee your pants a bit--when those portals opened up at the end, bringing to mind Gandolf’s triumphant entrance into the Battle of Helm’s Deep, then maybe movies just aren’t for you, my friend.

Full Review: https://thefilmsnob.tumblr.com/post/184694412545/avengers-endgame-out-of-5

#10. Marriage Story

Director: Noah Baumbach

Starring: Adam Driver, Scarlett Johansson

Ironically, Marriage Story is actually about a divorce. But, writer/director Noah Baumbach imbues this civil-turned-nasty separation with all the complexity and aggravation that come with being married with child. He treats the divorce like the grueling process you’d expect it to be, one which involves real, flawed people whose needs and desires don’t align, making the situation increasingly distressing for all parties involved. In turn, Driver and Johansson make this distress increasingly palpable for the audience until it feels like we’re in the room with them during one of their several heated arguments. Both actors give some of the best work of their careers, yet it still may be overshadowed by Laura Dern and Ray Liotta who shine as the two ruthless lawyers representing them. Baumbach has been churning out these gems for years, but his latest, which may be his most accessible, may also be his best so far.

#9. Jojo Rabbit

Director: Taika Waititi

Starring: Roman Griffin Davis, Thomasin McKenzie, Scarlett Johansson

What do you get when you mix Nazi Germany, the ghost of Hitler and a poor Jewish girl trying to survive the second World War? You get one of the funniest and most touching movies of the year, of course. The surging writer/actor/director Taika Waititi, who specializes in quirky films filled with quirkier characters, hasn’t made the typically grim melodrama about Nazi Germany nor is he doing anything close to promoting Nazi culture. Instead, he uses the tale of a young boy who attends a Hitler Youth training camp to highlight the absurdity of this horrible movement while promoting tolerance. He delivers this powerful message by introducing a young Jewish girl who seeks refuge in the home of Jojo and his mother, played by Scarlett Johansson (who clearly had a good year). This leads to Jojo’s crisis of conscience which is complicated by his imaginary friend...who happens to be Adolf Hitler! Yes, the movie is different.

#8. Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood

Director: Quentin Tarantino

Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt, Margot Robbie

It’s no surprise that Quentin Tarantino would make a film about 1960s Hollywood starring one of the most prestigious celebrity trios in the business; the guy’s passion--obsession even--for film is unmatched. Here, he uses the medium to take a horrific moment in history like the murder of Sharon Tate at the hands of the Manson Family and gives it the stereotypical Hollywood happy ending. In doing so, he showcases the wish fulfillment of the movies and their power to comfort us with optimism while simultaneously warning of their ability to shelter us from our cruel reality. DiCaprio and Pitt give brilliant performances as characters who add to the perception-vs-reality theme, DiCaprio playing the huge movie star full of anxiety and doubt in real life who relies heavily on his stunt double, Pitt, who’s the actual confident hero. All this and much more takes place in a meticulously recreated Hollywood of the ‘60s that sweeps you up in nostalgia and immerses you in a world of make-believe.

#7. Knives Out

Director: Rian Johnson

Starring: Ana de Armas, Daniel Craig, Chris Evans, Jamie Lee Curtis, Christopher Plummer

Yes, there have been many murder mysteries. No, Knives Out isn’t just like the rest of them. Writer/director Rian Johnson does a masterful job at crafting a labyrinthine story that’s just complex enough without overwhelming and strikes a perfect balance of suspense and comedy. Featuring one of the greatest casts assembled in 2019 playing a dysfunctional family of despicable yet intriguing individuals of means, the story is full of truly surprising twists and turns and, more crucially, some well-integrated and astute social commentary. This isn’t a two-hour lecture, though; the film is undeniably entertaining. The stand-out here is detective Benoit Blanc, played by Daniel Craig with a delightful southern drawl and an attention to detail that rivals Sherlock Holmes. Craig transcends his James Bond persona while the film itself transcends a genre.

#6. 1917

Director: Sam Mendes

Starring: George MacKay, Dean-Charles Chapman

If this were a few years ago 1917 would be, without question, my #1 pick. However, as the long, uncut tracking shot has become more common over the years, it’s also lost a bit of its luster; 2014′s Birdman, one of the best films of the decade, also had the appearance of a single take. Nonetheless, to make a war film, with all its tricky choreography and pyrotechnics, look like one long take is still a phenomenal achievement and an absolute marvel to behold. And, although it obviously couldn’t be filmed in one shot, Sam Mendes and master cinematographer Roger Deakins still had to shoot long takes and stitch them together digitally while stealthily hiding the seams. It all helps tell the story of two young soldiers tasked with traversing treacherous territory to warn a Battalion of British soldiers about an impending German ambush. We follow the pair in real time amidst a story of remarkable bravery, enhanced by the fact that we’re with them every step of the way, at once experiencing everything they do up close while being reminded of how removed we really are from the danger they face.

#5. Uncut Gems

Director: Benny Safdie, Josh Safdie

Starring: Adam Sandler, Kevin Garnett (hey, why not?), Julia Fox

There are several talented actors in Hollywood who’ve gained a bad reputation for poor career choices. Ben Affleck and Will Smith come to mind. Perhaps the king of this group is Adam Sandler. He’s excelled sporadically in movies like Punch-Drunk Love and The Meyerowitz Stories, but he gives a truly Oscar-worthy performance in this--ahem--gem. As Howard Ratner, he’s a gambling addict who runs a jewelry store in New York’s Diamond district when he gets his hands on a rare Ethiopian black opal which he hopes will help pay off his many debts. In fact, he owes so much to so many people that he struggles to keep track of it all and we cringe every time he does. The tension builds to an almost unbearable level as a host of dangerous men seek payment. If that’s not enough, he’s on the verge of a divorce as he continues seeing a mistress who’s also his employee while owing $100 000 to his own criminal brother-in-law. If you were stressed just reading that, try watching the movie...or being Howard himself. The Safdie brothers don’t let up either, filming it like a documentary to add to its realism and immediacy...as if it needed that extra boost.

#4. The Lighthouse

Director: Robert Eggers

Starring: Robert Pattinson, Willem Dafoe

The first thing you notice watching The Lighthouse is that half the screen is missing; Robert Eggers, who also wrote and directed The Witch, shot the film with a 1.19: 1 aspect ratio, making the picture square, like an old-timey photograph. It feels limiting at first until you fully appreciate the feelings of confinement and anxiety it evokes. That’s important in a film about two lighthouse keepers, or wickies, who are forced to live together in insanely grungy and cramped quarters of a lighthouse on a remote island off the coast of New England. Considering the harsh conditions and the fact it’s a horror film, they soon clash and seemingly lose their grip on reality which manifests in macabre images and supernatural occurrences. Or does it? Ha! This is one of the most unique and beautifully filmed movies of the year with the grainy black and white 35mm making it seem like it was made closer to the late 19th century, when the film takes place. Like many recent horror films, this one relies more on mood and imagery than jump scares and is buttressed by only two actors who give award-worthy performances. Alright? So, go to hell; Pattinson can act.

#3. Little Women

Director: Greta Gerwig

Starring: Saoirse Ronan, Florence Pugh, Emma Watson, Timothee Chalamet, Eliza Scanlen, Laura Dern

You might assume that Little Women is a stuffy period piece and even unnecessary considering it’s the seventh adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s iconic 1868 novel, but the prodigious actor-turned-writer-turned-director Greta Gerwig is too adept in her craft to settle for conventional story-telling. She gives this classic story a fresh, modern take with a non-linear approach and a feminist angle that enhances without overwhelming. Like her work on Lady Bird, she keeps scenes brisk and to the point with decisive cuts. She also adds her unique wit and snappy dialogue. Every conversation, no matter how superficial, leaves you enraptured. So, too, do the characters; it’s a pleasure following these complex girls through the ups and downs of their lives as women of little means and even fewer rights. They’re portrayed by a stellar cast, particularly Jo March who’s played by Saoirse Ronan, perhaps our greatest sub-30 actress. This may be a little movie about little women, but the payoffs and sheer enjoyment are truly grand.

Full Review: https://thefilmsnob.tumblr.com/post/190231754125/little-women-12-out-of-5

#2. Us

Director: Jordan Peele

Starring: Lupita Nyong’o, Winston Duke

I know it’s blasphemous, but I might be the only person on Earth who not only thought Get Out was a tad overrated, but that Jordan Peele’s second feature, Us, is the superior picture. It’s easy to look at this film as merely a unique take on the slasher genre, but it’s so much more than that. Like any good horror, it’s creepy as hell, but it’s also brimming with foreshadowing, symbolism and metaphor. There are three or four ideas that Peele sets up at the beginning that seem disconnected to the story, yet they each have a specific purpose and when that becomes evident, it’s incredibly satisfying. Even more impressive is how Peele turns a movie about a vacationing family encountering their doppelgangers into a brilliant commentary on the current state of America, specifically in regards to class division and its relation to the Nature vs Nurture debate. And the movie’s neat twist at the end isn’t just added for shock value; it’s actually the final puzzle piece and essential in conveying the film’s message. I struggled with ranking Us at #1 or #2, but its over-reliance on slasher film action around the mid-point (a minor flaw) was the deciding factor. It’s near-perfect, nonetheless.

Full Film Interpretation: https://thefilmsnob.tumblr.com/post/184073868405/interpreting-jordan-peeles-film-us

#1. Midsommar

Director: Ari Aster

Starring: Florence Pugh, Jack Reynor, William Jackson Harper, Will Poulter

If there’s one thing for which the 2010s should be known, it’s great horror films, a refreshing development after decades of mediocrity. But, just like movies in general from the ‘New Hollywood’ ‘70s, horror films are more creative and ambitious than they’ve been in ages thanks to a handful of visionary filmmakers. Three out of the top five entries are horror movies and that’s saying something.

Midsommar is a mesmerizing horror film that hearkens back to the 1970s when the genre relied more heavily on atmosphere and pacing and sheer creepiness than on jump scares and gimmicks. It takes one hell of a talented writer/director to make a movie shot almost entirely in daylight feel so utterly sinister, but Ari Aster, who also made the acclaimed Hereditary, does just that with ease. What’s more, the film contains no monsters, nothing supernatural and an astonishingly minimal amount of violence, yet when we do see bits of blood and gore, it’s a complete shock to the system. What Aster does rely on is his mastery of lighting and framing to produce images that are unexpectedly eerie.

This is a movie that starts with a group of anthropology students looking to take part in a once-in-a-lifetime festival at a commune in the Swedish countryside and ends in an unspeakable nightmare. It’s a long and sometimes grueling experience that steadily snowballs into horror, but that slow burn is crucial for this delightfully nerve-wracking series of events. Oh, and it’s also a breakup story...possibly the scariest breakup story of all time. It’s certainly the best film of 2019.

#2019 films #top 10 of 2019 #movies #movie review

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shauds-archived · 5 years

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Can we get more Jay Eddie please???

Okay, so there was no word with this one, so I didn't know if it was a table request, or just a general " Will there be more of Jason and Eddie" thing. Just waited till I had something to post with it anyway.

Another add on to " Do Not Engage" Just Jay and Eddie hanging around and catching up, :).

They went for pancakes - smothered in syrup and cream - caught up a little - incredibly awkward with how little either of them were really willing to talk about - and there was no more physical violence involved which was more than could be said of most social interactions Jason tried to engage in. Not that he'd really expected much more violence on Eddie's end, Jason had been more concerned about himself with that, maybe with Spoiler, maybe any of the other costume run-around about Gotham wondering where she and Kid Devil had gone.

"Be back soon," Eddie said when it was over, with a grin that's cheeriness wasn't offset by either fangs it revealed, or the way it literally lit up his face in the alley behind the diner.

"Just go make sure they don't think I mugged you." Jason kept his tone casual was he waved them off.

"Technically, couldn't we kinda say we mugged you?" Spoiler said, pulling her face mask down now she'd finally finished clearing away the copious amounts of syrup she'd gotten on the fabric. "Attacked you in the Bowery and took your money?" She cocked her head at them.

"Don't you dare."Jason warned, but couldn't find the heat to put behind it.

She chuckled and patted his cheek. "See you 'round McHostage."

That was exactly the story she was going to tell, he knew it, and Eddie wasn't going to refute it.

"I'm not buying you pancakes again." Jason yelled at the fiery... portal? Eddie had opened.

She waved again, her hand slipping away the last of them he saw, and then they were gone. The alley was quiet, cold as Gotham always was on the cusp of another storm. Soon the background noise - cars, sirens, chatter and shouts - rushed in to fill the silence they'd left. It'd been nice while it lasted. Jason tugged up the collar of his jacket against the wind, tucked his hands into his pockets, and started on his way to his nearest heated safehouse.

He got to the end of the alleyway when the ring of fire appeared in front of him again and Eddie came stumbling out. Literally stumbling, he took one step and fell over.

"Gopher!" Jason caught him before he could hit the wet, grimy asphalt. "What the hell?"

"No one calls me tha' 'nymore." He slurred and looked up at Jason with half-lidded eyes, then turned away with and let Jason pull him back to his feet.

"What happened?" Jason asked, circling Eddie, looking him over for injuries.

"Said I'd be back soon." Eddie said, running his forearm over his eyes. "Stop that." He batted Jason's prodding hands away from his head. No obvious signs of concussion, but... "Just been teleporting all day." He planted a hand on his hip and gave Jason a thumbs up. "All good now."

"You sure?" Jason didn't move to far from Eddie, kept his arms out, ready to catch him again juts in case.

"They're my powers, Jayce, I know how to handle them." Eddie jabbed the thumb at his own chest. "So what're we..." He took a step out of the alley and tipped over.

Jason sighed deeply and thanked his paranoia that he hadn't been able to keep from wearing the heat resistant padding under his t-shirt.

000

"I swear you used to be smarter." Jason shook his head and kicked the fridge closed, then slid the glass of orange juice across the island to Eddie.

"Wasn't sure I'd find you again." Eddie took a big gulp of juice, and then a bite of toast

Jason ignored the sting he felt a at that, folded his arms and leaned against the counter where he would keep a close eye on Eddie. "I meant that recruitment drive bullshit." He'd seen some pretty messed up side effects of exhaustion over the years, some particularly nasty one from metas, it didn't hurt to be cautious. "You know what that sounds like, right?"

Eddie sank down a little on the on the chair Jason'd pulled over from the the living room. "It's not like that, a lot of kids need the Titans, and we're really short on members right now, so..."

If it were kids that needed the Titans, the Titans wouldn't need recruitment drives. It wouldn't have a higher turnover rate then the damn Justice League. Jason pressed a hand over the bridge of his nose and held back a sigh. This was an argument he'd had many times, one he'd never won, getting into a screaming match wasn't going to help anything. Eddie had survived getting his torn open, h could teleport, he'd be fine. Jason scooped up the empty glass and brought it back to the fridge for a refill.

"Not like anyone was was interested." Eddie shrugged and accepted the glass, brought it to his lips along with the toast, then stopped halfway through the motion. "Or... Hey, your technically still a Teen, right?"

Jason couldn't stop the laughter that broke out from his chest at that, at the very idea that he would ever so much as consider that, so much as be considered, ever. "Not a chance in this or any universe, K.D."

"Was worth a shot."

Eddie said, turning his nose up at Jason. He he popped the last piece of toast into his mouth. "And it's actually Red Devil now."

"Well, no one's ever accused you of being a coward." Jason took the plate to rinse the crumbs off it and heard the scraping of Eddie pushing his chair back from the ground. "And is R.D gonna pass out on me again?"

Eddie's chuckle was nervous. "Nah, R.D's good, just needed a boost. Man this is weird."

"Nah, I get attacked by demons every other night."

"I can't even tell of you're joking." Eddie said and hopped up to sit on the counter. "Guess it's not that weird anymore, but still, I just never thought, you were, you know."

"Yeah." Jason dried the plate and stacked it with the others. "I know." Jason wouldn't have believed it himself if someone had told him at fifteen that this was what he'd be. "I woulda told you, if I'd thought..." Jason pressed a hand against his eyes and huffed.

"M'not mad about that anymore." Eddie was swinging his legs, looking out the window at the stormy city. He was like something out of a B grade horror movie, just like he'd wanted when he'd been a kid, and he was still the most like what Jason remembered out of all of them. "Well I am, I guess, but not really at you."

"Thanks." Jason ducked his head and stepped around the island for the doorway. "So, we haven't tried to beat the crap out of each other yet, and I have no idea what we do now"

There was a thump of Eddie's feet hitting the floor and he was following after Jason. "I wanted to watch Ballistic: Ecks vs. Server the other night, and Amy kind of looked like she wanted to beat the crap out of me for it."

"You hate that movie."

"How do you remember that?"

"Hard to forget when you practically wrote me an essay on it."

000

Four odd years would be a long time for anyone. For people who lived like Jason and Eddie, who'd changed as much as they had in that time, it was pretty much an eternity. So much had happened, more than either could have guessed at and a lot that neither of them easily understood. So they talked.

They talked about Dan and Aunt Marla and the multiverse and the Titans. More about Eddie than about Jason, because whenever conversation turned to the older of the two, he'd find a way to steer it back around.

The movie played in the background, both of them paying more attention to each other and the bowl of popcorn between them than the screen. Eddie joked about how between the pancakes, the toast and now the popcorn, it seemed Jason was incapable of conversation that wasn't over food. Jason flipped him off and shoved a hand of popcorn in his mouth in lieu of a reply. Eddie brought up the swear jar he and Rose had made use of at the tower, when she'd still been there.

When the movie was over, they swapped it out for something equally bad and put it just loud enough to block out the sounds of the storm that made Gotham at daytime dark as twilight. And then they talked about Twilight and Eddie felt terrible about subjecting Jason to the horror.

"Can't believe you found the vampire hunter world and it's the old-timey one you wanted to stay in." By that point, Eddie was only half on the couch, having slid down lower and lower to the ground over the course of the night h had to look past his shoulder to see Jason. Or maybe not, it actually did sound a lot like 'Extra Credit History Assignments For Fun Jason.'

"Yeah." Jason had chuckled, only half awake himself and curled up in two thirds of the couch, Eddie suspected it had been a while since he'd slept at all. "Kyle got infected there." He linked his fingers and stretched his hands up and over his head. Eddie rolled his eyes and dragged the bowl of cold, and now too salty popcorn off the couch and onto his lap. " But can hunt vampire's here."

Eddie hummed in agreement and massaged his tired eyes, turned them lazily to the screen where a bunch off teenagers were shrieking very unconvincingly about a witch. "You wanna hunt a vampire?" Eddie slid still further off the couch, and this time Jason's legs uncurled a little to claim the space Eddie had vacated.

"No m'sleeping." Jason yawned and buried his face in the armrest, he looked a lot more comfortable than Eddie, who gave in and let himself fall the rest of the way to the ground. The carpet was soft too, well soft enough, Eddie didn't have the energy to get up and reclaim couch space. "Do it with the Titans."

"Titans don't hunt things." Eddie yawned too, great, he'd caught it from Jason and now he was going to fall asleep too. "We just kind of..." He flopped a hand in circles as the yawn winded down, "Get attacked by supervillains 'n stuff."

"So heroic." Jason scoffed, then he shifted so he was laying on his back, eyes on the ceiling, abruptly tense and nowhere near as comfortable as he'd been a moment ago. "Speaking of, you gonna be heading back soon?"

"No, I don't..." Eddie turned around, so he was kneeling, facing the couch and Jason. "I can hang a little longer."

"Ah." Jason nodded once, scrubbed a hand over his face before folding both arms behind his head and closing his eyes.

"Unless." Eddie bit down on his bottom lip, shifted his gaze quickly to the door and back, something heavy and cold settling on his shoulders. Jason hadn't expected Eddie to be back right after dropping Spoiler back at the tower, he knew that, and then, Eddie had been here for hours already, he knew he could be a little inept at telling when he'd worn out his welcome. "Did you want me to leave you alone?"

"No." Jason said, a deep line having appeared between his eyes and his lips set in a frown. "I wouldn't want you to go." He rolled his shoulders, a nervous gesture that didn't fit him "Just figured, you had thing's to do, n you'd wanna get back 'fore they knew you were..." He motioned at himself and then around at the apartment. "Y'know."

"I don't." Eddie tucked some strands of hair behind his ear and shifted away from the couch to keep the sudden spike in his body temperature from burning it up. "And I know you don't really thing I'd ditch you for such a dumb reason." He fixed his eyes on Jason and tried to smile, he was good at that. "I swear you used to be smarter."

Jason finally looked at Eddie, blinked owlishly at him with eyes so wide, Eddie might have thought it was funny if it hadn't made him turn every bit of the carpet he was touching to charcoal. Then Jason snorted and shook his head as he rolled off the couch. "I gotta fire-proof this apartment sometime."

"Yeah, that's a really, really good idea." Eddie winced and shifted away from the carpet he'd destroyed.

"Ima grab the fire-extinguisher, you get another movie going." Jason was gone from the room minutes after the sounds of him rifling through the kitchen came to an end.

The room was too dark to be sure, but when he came back in, Jason's eyes were suspiciously red. When he didn't bring it up, Eddie let himself pretend it was because his friend was short a couple hours too many of sleep.

They didn't do much more talking that night, but that was fine, there'd be plenty more time for catching up on others.

#Jason Todd #Eddie Bloomberg #fanfiction #asks #anon #mine

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supernatural-firstwatch · 6 years

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Season 7 Episode 5: Shut Up, Dr. Phil

LOL! So, funny story, I’ve been watching “My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend” in-between SPN, and there was an episode with Dr. Phil :P :P

- Oh god, what’s going to happen to highlights-lady? There are so many things that could go wrong while her highlights are setting... Eww... She just got electrocuted/cooked to a crisp??

- Dean’s not having very good dreams. And he’s self-medicating with alcohol again. Man, these two have PTSD up the wazoo. LOL! Sam went out for a run! “Someone better be chasing you.” “It’s good for you.” “No, no, it’s not. You’re a mess and you stink.” Oooh, he was biking. HAHAHAH!!! Sam is not buying Dean’s bullshit that everything is fine. Dean. Deano. You think that after 28 years Sam doesn’t know that you self-medicate with lots of alcohol when you’re feeling especially guilty? Boy got your number, babe.

- UH HUH!!! Construction dude is going into a porter potty and I have a feeling he is going to BURN from the porter potty chemicals! I bet they all were involved in something to do with that land they’re building on. WAIT WTF??? THE NAIL GUN IS MOVING BY ITSELF AND FIRING BY ITSELF???

- Ok, so, one coin is weird, two is a pattern. Someone is hexing people. Or something.

- Well, Sam sure found something up in his closet. Looks like witching things.

- Did Sam just break the car??? Oh, no, he’s just pretending that it’s broken?

- Well, Dean found the altar. WTF, what kind of cell plan do they have that they can’t get signal because all the circuits are busy? This is in 2011. Cell signal was much better in 2011. Good job Sam, getting the car to blare the alarm to alert Dean. Except that Dean failed at properly closing the altar door.

- Those cupcakes look good. EW!!! NEVERMIND!! They were just hexed and now there’s like a beating heart or something in them!!! Oh good!! They found the coin! Good job, Sam!

- WOAH! WAIT! STOP! Maggie knew they were hunters! And Don isn’t fazed at all about the fact that she just said that! He knows she’s a witch!! Prolly knew this entire time. Well, his bust rumbling and breaking in half is not ominous at all!!

- Ok, so, what’s up with Sue?

- Dean was just about to eat an ENTIRE pie!!! I think it was key lime pie, too. So, the witch is pissed and the whole town has gone funky and wonky?

- Oh shit, man, Both of them are witches?? HOLY SHIT HE JUST DECAPITATED HER WITH A TRAY!!!! Well, the boys picked up on that really fast.

- OOOPS!!! THE LEVIATHAN DUDE HAS ARRIVED!!!

- HAHAHAHAH!!!!! That little she-bang failed miserably. Aah, the chicken feet weren’t chilled. Ooops.

- LOL!!!! Sam wants to play marital counselor. HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! OMG!!! These two ARE OLD!!! Bringing up the Renaissance. LOL! she had sex with Columbus and he possibly had sex with a Medici. LOOOL!!!! I love how the boys can’t actually get rid of true witches cause they’re so insanely powerful.

- LEVIANTHAN!!!! WOAH! WHAAAAAT!!!! THE WITCHES CAN TAKE DOWN LEVIATHANS??? I was actually just wondering, if they’re so powerful, whether they’d be able to do anything about the Leviathans. Ooo, it’s a spell. That lasts a few days? HAHAHAHAHA!!! I love Don. “What are you doing here?” “Apparently saving your ass. Twice.” *take out coins from under the beds* “Maggie? Seriously? We just saved your marriage.” “Yeah, but to be fair, you also tried to kill her.”

- Poor Sam. He’s so frustrated that Dean won’t tell him what’s wrong. And the reason he won’t is because it has everything to do with, Sammy, and how pissed off and disappointed you’ll be in him when you find out he killed Amy Pond. That, and Dean is a masochist who bottles everything up until he explodes with it.

Where the hell are they going to stash a fucking Leviathan???

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #season 7 #first time watching #the leviathans are BAMF!!!#where the hell do you stash one?#old timey witches are damn powerful #they'd be useful in taking out leviathans

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nezzfiction · 5 years

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ENMY Chapter 90 - Fourth Crusade (Part Two)

Chapter Synopsis: The Kingdom of Vacuo is about to enter its most daunting challenge since its conception. Salem is launching the Fourth Crusade. A war to end some of Remnant’s greatest warriors, including Team ENMY. Assistance from Atlas is on its way, but will the Fleet arrive in time to make a difference?

Only one thing is certain. Whatever happens in Vacuo will echo the events to come for the rest of Remnant.

Series Synopsis: Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies. For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies. Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy(ENMY).

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

The Fourth Crusade (Part Two)

My life for Ire.

It was afternoon, but the skies above Vacuo suddenly dimmed to the dark shadowing overcast of night.

The sun faded into obscurity. Instead, the shattered moon took its place. Its size much larger, more closer than any had seen in a very long time.

“Do you remember, Titan?” Salem sneered to her opponent across the sands. “This is the night I laid waste to everything you ever built. The night I brought ruin to everything you ever loved!”

“Yes, I remember. Which is why, I will not allow you to do the same to these Children of Remnant!” Titan declared.

The once golden sands of Vacuo dyed a soft shade of blue and purple. Stars in the sky shimmered with a haunting brightness. The kind astrologers used to foretell a great calamity approaching.

Although the battle between Grimm and the Kingdom’s warriors still waged with savage fervor, a small pause pervaded the battlefield. The phenomenon of the immortals’ duel garnered a hallowed awe by all. And the great pieces of the moon drew ever closer towards the world.

Salem’s curse mimicked the Cataclysm of ages past on a smaller scale. Even so, the damage it would cause would be nothing short of catastrophic.

I will not fail again, Titan told himself.

Those who have entrusted their lives to me will not allow it.

Titan’s body warped into that of a merchant, heavily-obscured by a brown cloak. From his backpack, he drew a few ordinary looking beans.

The man bent down and whispered a quiet incantation to the kernels resting his palm. They sprouted vines to the sound of his voice. He then, curled them into his fist, touched them once to his forehead, before tossing them into the ground a few feet ahead.

Immediately, there was an explosion of green vegetation. Giant beanstalks sprouted from the sand, intertwining into the sky and towards the falling moon. Once it reached its height, the flora branched out like a freshly cast fishing net.

“I must thank you for one thing, if one thing only, Wicked!” the Magic Bean Seller shouted. “You’ve offered me a chance at redemption!”

“You’re still the same fool you always were! Do you truly think yourself capable of changing anything?!”

“I will! I’ve found my calling, as late as it was!”

“Your world will end again!”

“No! You’re wrong! And this isn’t my world! IT IS THEIRS!!!”

Salem poured more of her Magic into the curse, as if to refute Titan’s claim by force. Every negative emotion she could dredge, increased the potency of the Cataclysm’s replication. Likewise, Titan infused his counter curse with the lifeforce saved from previous incarnations. He thought if this was the moment his long life led up to, he would gladly forfeit it all for a glimmer of hope against all hope—an odd against all odds.

The sound of the great collapse racked the continent like a tectonic plate shift. A tidal wave of sand blew everything and everyone in the vicinity off their feet. It was the eternal battle between unstoppable force and immovable object at its grandest.

The beanstalk caught the moon in its grasp, but only momentarily. The force of the falling world continued to descend. Its mass broke away the weaker branches, only leaving the strongest stalks to contend. Pieces of the moon were repelled, while others struck the earth like meteors.

Titan felt a sharp numbness set in. Committing so much of his energy into a single stroke took more than its toll. His mind began to haze at the edges. But still, he maintained his strength.

“I can feel you fading…” Salem narrowed. “Had you fought without spending yourself on that fruitless endeavor, you may have stood a chance. Alas, your sacrifice was all for naught. Stopping Behemoth only delayed the inevitable.”

Out from Salem’s back, the head of a great serpent burst out. Its body wriggled and writhed, trying to shake itself loose from the Witch’s flesh. When it was fully freed, it expanded rapidly in size.

With one pounce, it sunk its teeth into the base of the beanstalk, gnawing away at its roots.

“A pitiful effort your so-called redemption has become,” Salem snickered. “The same old mistakes in a few new ways—like dividing your power among the Maidens. I see the foolish belief you chose to place in these Children was never a lesson you planned to learn from.”

“Do you ever shut up!”

Glynda pointed her riding crop to the beanstalk and began reconstructing some of its fractured pieces.

“If you think we will entrust the Wizard with Vacuo’s safety alone, you are sorely mistaken.”

Minerva conjured the form of a fiery phoenix to do battle with Salem’s serpent. Its flaming talons and beak cut wounds all over the reptile’s scales.

She is right, Titan. You do not stand alone, several voices within the immortal resounded.

There was a rousing cry, and the legions of Vacuo’s warriors rallied to fight the Grimm once more. Waves of projectiles launched into the hordes of Salem’s army. A portion of the gunfire concentrated on the Witch’s serpent.

Never alone.

Part of Titan’s body phased out with a violent ripple. While the main maintained the beanstalk, a previous host wearing a silly-looking fez and bowtie stumbled clumsily onto the ground before popping back up.

“Ugh! Which one am I?” he began touching his face. “Nose, hair, FINGERS! Still got them! Yes! Excellent! You! The angry one with the eyebrows!”

“Excuse me?!” Glynda gasped.

“Yes! The thing you’re doing! The timey wimey!”

“The what?!”

“It could use more wimey! I’d do it myself but we need to conserve as much energy as possible, and this—“the man pulled out what appeared to be a sonic screwdriver from his tweed jacket. “—does not work on wood. But what it can do…! Whoopsie daisy!”

The man pointed it at Glynda’s wand, and she suddenly felt her spell refine and focus. Her time reversal spell accelerated the repairs of the beanstalk to match the speed of its destruction.

“‘Oh, he’s cool. He did a cool thing’. You’re making the ‘he did a cool thing’ face, by the way,” the man gloated.

“How…?! Who are you?!”

“I’ve gone by many names. Different body, different name. If I remember correctly, this one was…Doctor?”

“Doctor? Dr. Who?”

“Never get tired of hearing that one.”

X X X X X

“Damn it! What the hell is that old lady thinking?!” Yang shouted her frustrations.

“Your godmother’s always been short a few screws. But this is worse, even by her standards,” Raven clenched her teeth. “Still, we can’t lose our composure. We both saw the vision. They should be able to hold out a little longer before the prediction comes to pass.”

Although her mother’s words were reassuring, there was an almost imperceptible quiver to her bottom lip. Yang could read the worry all over her face. An anxiety that threatened to swallow her if she didn’t constantly temper it.

“We’ll save her, mom. We’ll save Temujin.” She took Raven’s hand in hers.

“Yes, of course,” her mother sighed. “The question is how.”

“Can you slice us open a portal?”

Raven was about to say yes, when something held her tongue. There was a visible resistance to her movement. Invisible strings no one could see.

“Damn it!” she cursed. “It would count as direct interference against Salem! I can’t do it without breaking the contract!”

Yang tapped her in-ear communicator.

“Hey, operator. Did you get that?”

“Yeah,” Emerald answered. “Heard it all…!”

“How’s Neo?”

“Your wifey’s running on fumes like the rest of us. If you’re asking her to fast-track you back to the city, it ain’t happening right now. Just stay put, I called you guys an uber driver, who happened to be close by.”

“How are you and Merc?”

“We’ve got our hands full …!”

Yang heard gunfire in the background, as well as the random cries of bestial creatures.

“Em? What’s going on there?”

“Grimm. Lots of ‘em…! Trying to come through the crack Behemoth left in the wall. Also, some of its giant ass baby larvae are still around. Annoying fuckers.”

“How bad is it?”

“Let’s just say, we also got word parts of Salem’s armies are breaking off from the North and South to come here. So, uh, just a few shades shy of complete shitstorm.”

“And you need to hold there until more of Vacuo’s military makes it back. There’s no way you can help Temujin?”

“Not without letting Grimm overrun the city.”

“…Do you need me?”

“You won’t hear me say no, but... Your ride’s there.”

Just then, Yang and Raven spotted a light-traveling aircraft in the distance. In little to no time, its wing thrusters kicked up a wave of dust, as it came to a hover at the cliff’s edge.

The sidedoors opened to show Ilia.

“There better be a damn good reason I’m playing chauffeur in the middle of a fucking war, or you’re not getting on this boat.”

Yang only gave her a dead stare.

“Blake and Temujin.”

“…...Get on the fucking boat.”

X X X X X

Nai had never waged battle like this before.

The Grimm were intricately coordinated, their movements vastly complex. Whatever weakness certain species possessed were annoyingly paired with another species that could more or less compliment it.

There was an organization and strategy to the monsters Nai never thought possible. Not the Crusaders, not even his own people could achieve this level of coordination. It was a most formidable army, if it could be called that. A legion of darkness which surpassed imagination.

Who could control such a force of nature?

But the man already knew who. The one called, Bean. He would have gone after the enemy’s commander himself if he could pinpoint where the boy was. But as Nai stared out into the endless hordes of glowing red eyes, he knew such an idea was impossible.

We’ve managed to stall them somehow and Behemoth has been slain.

Better not to test our fortunes.

Retreat should be the priority.

The moment he finished the thought, a Moredread cleaved through the soldier beside him. It turned its attention the Khan’s way. The sword interlaced into the Grimm’s muscle fiber raised high once more.

Nai reacted immediately. He was well-versed in dealing with the Moredread. While they were fortified in a dark parody of medieval-like armor and literally armed with a claymore, they were not without weakness. The non-sword arm was a particular safe-zone to move to.

But as Nai strafed to the Moredread’s weakside, a scorpion’s tail almost stung him on approach. It was there, he noticed a baby Deathstalker wrapped around the knight’s gauntlet. With its top carapace facing outward and pincers snapping, it looked like some macabre shield.

Just then, a line of Moredread bearing Deathstalkers of their own, charged the front lines. They “shield bashed” the Vacuo vanguard, followed by a downward strike with their swords on any who lived through the first blow. And just like that, the Kingdom’s battalions staggered.

This isn’t good.

The rhythm of our army is being disrupted.

As if drowning their fears with rage, a Faunus warrior gave a mad cry before rushing the Grimm’s shield wall. His squadmates followed, trying to pry a break in the formation. But with uncanny unison, the Grimm gave way to a small concave and decimated the squadron in two short blows. The line reformed like a watery surface.

“FALL BACK! TO THE CHASM!” Nai ordered immediately.

War drums and horns resounded. The battalions showed signs of wanting to continue, but eventually gave in to their leader’s instructions.

To stop the Grimm from pursuing, a small flock of airships flew overhead. Some were taken down by the flying Grimm in the process, but those remaining deployed bombs to cover their allies’ withdrawal.

Exploding Dust dotted the space separating Vacuo’s military and the Grimm. The monsters ignored their baser instincts by not pursuing mindlessly into the fire. In fact, holding their position until the conflagration dissipated somewhat.

Damn!

Not even the barest of losses given.

“Pan! Assist the retreat!” Nai passed additional orders.

“You’ve got it!” shouted a lively response.

The former Headmaster of Signal Academy pulled ahead of the battalions and activated his Gravity Semblance.

Ahead, separating the army from the city walls was a wide chasm. Nai had chosen this location for the battle specifically for that reason. It was one of the only natural obstructions protecting the city and the perfect place to cover a retreat.

As Vacuo’s army approached, gold lights enveloped them like tiny fireflies. Their steps became weightless, as they jumped the fifty-meter gap with ease. Pan’s Semblance, with the assistance of a godmother device, allowed the battalions to defy gravity and leap to safety.

Once they were all across, their ranged units set up coverfire for the aerial.

Now, we only need to worry about the Grimm in the sky for the moment, Nai thought.

It will take hours for the main host to maneuver the chasm.

…

In a safe distance away, Bean watched the progression of events from the view points of Grimm he was linked to.

Stratagem is well-adapted.

General Nai’s ability requires reassessment.

However.

The Grimm around the boy rushed past, making their own way to hit the city, but he paid them no mind. He only looked down at the flute held in his hands with a troubled gaze.

It was a disturbing little artifact. The instrument was dyed in a bold ebony finish. Varnished bone crusted the lip and finger holes. The cursed pipe was once a Nightmare Class Grimm classified as Hamelin. But after Salem’s experiments, she converted the Grimm’s original form into an object. A feat Bean found the Witch was all too familiar with.

Regardless, the boy pressed the recorder to his lips. A devilish melody was born as soon as he breathed life into it. The kind of music that enticed those who heard it to move and follow against their wills.

…

In that moment, Nai watched an eeriness pervade the other side of the trench. He wasn’t sure at first, but he thought he saw the sands moving.

Then the bright red eyes of the Grimm became clear. They were much smaller and quicker than the ones of Bean’s standing army. It was like a flood of glimmering rubies skittering across the ground. And like a flood, the bodies collected into a river.

The tiny Grimm latched onto each other, forming an extension into the chasm. Some of them fell into the abyss, while more continued to squirm into the construction connecting one side to the other. Nai could barely make out their figures now.

They were Ratten, a rat-type of Grimm. Usually nothing more than pests individually, but they did carry the potential to swarm and plague if left unchecked. But Nai couldn’t have known they would be used in this way, much less an army capacity.

“Take them out!” he ordered, snapping his soldiers out of their stupor.

Rows of guns were brandished in new formation, barrels leveled at an even angle. The concerted rings of Dust rounds being loaded into firing chambers traveled down the ranks. The shooters opened fire for a sparse two seconds, before great booms impacted across the way. Thunderous crashes fell among their numbers.

On the backs of giant rabbit Grimm, Moredread knights struck down at the crouching shooters. A circle of blood and death reaped in their unexpected surroundings. And before the Vacuo military could react, the Moredread’s mounts leapt to another section.

All the while, the Ratten finished the first of their bridges. The tiny scourge rushed Vacuo’s warriors immediately—engulfing, consuming, until there was nothing left but barebones and trace amounts of flesh.

Nai himself, was being blanketed by the critters. They bit into his poisonous body, and died, but took pieces of him with them. They were especially dangerous for the rest of his battalions. The Ratten’s small bodies made them difficult to hit, and when they did manage to find purchase, the Grimm’s large numbers easily made the deficit for any one killed.

Nai never doubted the courage of Vacuo’s people when they met adversity. No matter the situation, he knew their warriors would fight to their deaths. Armies lived and died by their morale, and his battalions would only fall with spirits high.

Still, he prayed silently that this would not be the end.

“Is there nothing left we can do?”

X X X X X

“Are you quite finished?” Salem scowled at her opponents.

The Witch didn’t have the same level of strategery Bean had, or the same room to maneuver, but her Grimm still displayed an uncanny coordination. The dark army was beginning to best the warriors of Vacuo in the Southern theater.

Titan recognized the way the scales were tipping. Their side was also aware of the dire situation playing out on the Northern front, as well as the impending hordes bent towards the city’s West Wall.

“I will be fine on my own!” the Magic Bean Seller yelled to his comrades.

The immortal’s appearance shifted to a man with jade-white, taoist robes. A feathered fan materialized in his hand, and he brought it up with a heavy motion.

The beanstalk entered a deadlock with the moon, while its roots solidified its foundation. A great many stone formations rose from the sand, extending across the battle line. The rock curved and split, trapping Grimm attempting to get through. When the construction finished, a stone sentinel maze separated the two armies.

“…Alright, I’ll give you that. Very impressive,” the Doctor said slightly perturbed, while putting away his screwdriver. “Used up a lot of our incarnations’ energies in that, but I suppose it couldn’t be helped.”

He then, turned to Glynda and Minerva.

“We’ll hold off Wicked here. In the meantime, you should order your lot to reinforce the Western Wall. Oh, but the two of you have somewhere else to be…”

The man raised his brow to something behind them.

When they turned, they saw a mysterious green police box.

“Don’t worry, there’s enough room—”

“It’s bigger on the inside.”

X X X X X

Another of their airships spun and crashed into a smoldering wreckage in the sand. The Grimm under it were smashed into nothing but ash. When the pilot exited the cockpit, he let out a fierce scream, fighting the monsters swarming him before succumbing to their endless claws and bites.

Nai was barely keeping the battalions together. He managed to pass orders between fending off the Ratten and the mounted Moredread, but it was obvious where the battle was headed. His people were quickly being overtaken.

There was a feeling of inevitably donning on him and his army. They could not outrun Bean’s Grimm, not by air or ground. It was becoming all too likely their forces would not only be routed, but wiped out entirely.

As Nai banished the thought for the umpteenth time, an odd undulating whir caught his attention. In the empty space where the sound came from, a rectangular object faded into existence. From the green box, two women stepped out.

With riding crop and wand in hand, they simultaneously cast a thunderous cloud over the whole area. The wide-range spell hailed ice and lightning across the swarms of Grimm. A counter to the numerous, but fragile bodies of the Ratten.

“Go!” Minerva shouted to Nai. “Gather our people back behind the walls and enact siege defenses!”

Nai nodded, and resumed ushering his armies to the city.

As she watched her fellow Khan retreat, Minerva couldn’t help but wonder.

Where is Temujin in all this?

She said she wouldn’t join us in the South, but she isn’t here either?

I know she didn’t take part in Behemoth’s extermination.

You senile buffoon.

“What in the hell are you thinking?!

X X X X X

“Temujin, I’m so sorry,” Blake apologized with tears in her eyes.

“Hmph. What are you apologizing for, while swinging your sword in my face?!” Temujin snapped, as she used her cane to deflect another one of Blake’s blows.

The previously quiet throne room of the Hanging Gardens had turned into a private arena.

Temujin herself, faced her former proteges in Adam and Blake. The two always worked well together, their movements combined always produced a high-paced lethality. An aspect Raven and Temujin fostered themselves, to their current regret.

Adam dashed forward at an opening, but abruptly crashed to the ground. His body convulsed as he gasped with pain.

“Kill…ME…!”

His body was being torn apart by Temujin’s territorial Semblance, but only short of fatal. On the other hand, Blake moved freely to attack. The weakness of Temujin’s Semblance was exposed to them earlier, as it could not target more than one opponent at any given moment.

“KILL ME!” Adam coughed blood.

“Peh! Don’t give me orders, you brat!” Temujin scolded. “I don’t need to kill you or Blake in order to stop you. Don’t underestimate me!”

The elder Faunus stabbed her cane through Blake’s clone, before throwing an Aura-enhanced dart into Blake’s thigh when she reappeared. But the wound quickly healed with unnatural speed, forcing the dart out onto the floor. A dark mist billowed from the regenerated cut in the flesh.

“You have to kill us, Temujin,” Blake pleaded. “We can’t resist Salem’s control. There’s no other way!”

“No, I’m sure there is,” the elder disagreed easily.

“You’ll die if this keeps up! You can’t handle both of us at the same time!”

“Don’t be stupid. You two won’t be the end of me.”

Temujin glowered from the pair to the Rakis siblings fighting Camlann a certain distance away.

Seeing how they neglected Blake and Adam completely, it’s obvious what they saw in their vision.

So, I am to meet my end at the hands of Camlann, am I?

Temujin discerned the situation with an appraising glare. The siblings were obviously trying to keep the Grimm and her separate. She could imagine how it would likely play out. Death at the hands of her “supposed” mortal nemesis.

Rather fitting if the Grimm truly is the reincarnation of the Crusaders’ ill will.

Mouse, Knives, Summer.

I’ve carried on through so many misdeeds without so much as any care or regret.

My ego made weapons of my people to break against my enemies.

I can no longer fight properly, even as I send more lives to their early graves.

I cannot stand beside them at their final moments.

An old fool with a missing eye and leg.

There’s only so much until someone as stubborn as me gets the message.

It is no longer in me to fight the wheels of fate…

…

Camlann, king of the Moredread Grimm barreled down on the Rakis siblings like a warbound locomotive. Its stature was comparable to an Ursa, but its strength and arsenal were beyond any measure. With its grossly swollen sword and shield, it charged Mouse and Knives relentlessly like a mad bulldozer.

The siblings were small and light. Their blades vibrated with a magnetic hum, as they shrieked them across the Grimm’s armor. Usually their daggers could cut through the toughest bone, but it was not so in this case.

Knives and Mouse crisscrossed against its shield a second time. The sound of countless strikes could be heard, further evidenced by the sparks scattered from the friction. Camlann’s aegis was formed of the densest material layered over. And despite that, the Grimm dragged and swung it around as if it weighed nothing.

The flat boulder of the shield almost caught Knives with its edge, but the girl slipped just underneath it. She purposely baited the attack, dodged, and then brandished her karambit all along Camlann’s unprotected arm. But all the good it did, but cut shallow grooves into the Grimm’s armor.

The claymore came chasing after her, but Knives made her escape like a ghost, almost floating out of its range.

Mouse couldn’t stop but marvel at his younger sister’s movements. He was sure Knives’ consciousness was still in there, but Summer’s co-possession curbed her unnecessary tendencies. There was an experienced hand guiding his sister’s fighting style, as well as an unnerving agility that wasn’t present before.

“Mouse, I need you to follow my lead,” Summer said. “Use your short-term Precognition to match with me.”

“Do you have a plan? As this rate, we can’t defeat Camlann. The prediction is going to come true!”

“We don’t need to beat it, just stop it long enough for the others to get here.”

“And in the instance, they do make it in time. What could they possibly do?”

“Hm,” her sister flashed him an aged smile in a youthful face. “If there’s anyone who can defy the future, it’s them. It’s why I brought them here in the first place.”

“…I don’t have any choice but to believe that, don’t I?”

“Nope!”

And with that, Knives launched herself at Camlann once more, trailed closely by her brother.

…

Temujin watched the Rakis siblings’ fight from afar. She deciphered their intentions as clear as day. She also saw that they might die trying to save her.

Can’t have that.

Temujin locked her cane against Blake’s two swords. There was an obvious conflict in her opponent’s body. Blake was clearly trying to resist Salem’s influence. The strength of her and Adam’s attacks were only half, if it was that much. But it was still enough to keep Temujin in check.

“How do the contracts work, hm?” she asked, paying little mind they were crossing weapons. “It seems Raven has more leeway in her actions.”

“I can’t tell you…!” Blake struggled to reply.

“So long as she acts within the confines of her set conditions, she seems to be able to move freely. Are the contracts you and Adam hold by different in some way?”

“Adam and I broke our contracts…! This is the price of defying the Witch…!”

“Ah. Interesting. So the price of breaking your contracts is complete obedience? How faithful are you to her orders?”

“We don’t have a choice…! Our bodies are acting on their own…! That’s why you have to kill us!!!”

“I’m getting tired of hearing you say that. Back to the matter before, how faithful are you to her orders. What were they? Something along the lines of ‘do everything it takes to end Temujin’s life’?”

Blake scrunched her face, all but conveying the answer.

“I see,” Temujin nodded. “Well, then. What if I were to tell you the Rakis siblings foresaw the means of my demise? And it was Camlann who accomplished the deed. Not you or Adam.”

Blake blinked with confusion, before her consciousness shifted in and out of awareness.

“No!” she tried to shake her senses clear. “It’s a lie!”

“It’s not a lie. The best way to end my life is to let Camlann do it.”

“STOP IT!”

“In order to accomplish that, you should get Mouse and Knives out of the way.”

“WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!”

As angry as Blake was, Temujin felt the remaining strength fade from the girl’s swords. She stepped back in disbelief, making no impression of restarting the duel. Her actions completely outside her control.

“NO!” Blake shouted, trying to will her body forward.

But nothing came of it.

Temujin observed the phenomena a while longer, before confirming her suspicions.

Hm, I see their orders are a little easy to manipulate.

Just as well, I suppose.

Salem will get what she wants in the end.

Temujin let down her guard and released the territory binding Adam.

The young man got uneasily to his feet, wearing the same pained expression as Blake. Both showed a sorrowed disbelief at what Temujin was making them do.

“I’m sorry, Blake, Adam,” she said to the two in turn. “I am truly sorry it came to this.”

Against their wills, Blake and Adam set off for the other side of the throne room. The two joined the fight with the Rakis siblings.

“I am sorry.”

X X X X X

As Yang, Raven, and Ilia rode the airship to the city, they could see the harrowing situations unfolding from a distance.

There were Grimm pouring over the dunes to the North. Minerva, Glynda, and Nai were retreating with their armies and securing siege defense at the Northern Wall.

Titan was holding back Salem and her forces in the South. The retreating Vacuo army was setting up their own siege defense, while sending reinforcements to the Western Wall. And it was there, the three’s airship flew just overhead.

The burning carcass of Behemoth was still in the process of dissolving into the wind. Fiery wreckage dotted the break in the wall and a little into the city. Grimm were swarming through the gap, which fighters on the inside were making use of as a funnel. Though, even with the tactic in place, there were so many of the monsters filing through, the defending forces risked being overrun at any moment.

And there were more Grimm on the way.

Yang felt her stomach lurch as she tapped into her comms.

“Hey, Em! You there?!”

“Oh. That you idiots, up high?” Emerald’s radio crackled more than earlier. “How’s the view?”

“There’s more Grimm closing on the gap!”

“So, we figured.”

Below, they saw a herd of Boarbatusk Grimm roll into a spinning ball, and ram into the wall repeatedly. More of the structure collapsed at the impact. The break in the wall crumbled further.

“Emerald!!!”

“Yeah…! *Hkrgh!* Fuck! We saw…!”

Immediately, Yang saw three figures move to counteract the new influx of Grimm. They maneuvered to prevent the Boarbatusk from causing further damage. But as effective as they proved, their enemies were repeatedly surrounding them.

“EM!!! HEY!!!”

“Don’t worry about us! Just get to Temujin!”

“But what about you guys?!”

“We’ll hold the choke…! Get your ass over there already!”

“Emerald…”

“Don’t worry. Worst comes to worst, we’ll make a run for it…! We’re good at that, remember?”

“…Make sure you do.”

“Obviously…!”

Yang pretended not to notice how tired Emerald really sounded. She then, heard a few taps on the radio, which could only be from Neo.

“I love you too, babe. Let me know if I need to double back,” she replied. “I can’t lose you.”

“I know. I will,” Mercury interrupted.

“Haha…!” Yang chuckled. “Don’t die out there, Merc. Still need to open that weapons shop.”

“Yeah, which reminds me. We are getting paid for this gig, right? Make sure Temujin stays alive long enough to pay our reward?”

“You got it, bud.”

Yang waited a moment, before she turned her gaze from her team to the Hanging Gardens ahead.

She had been holding it out, but the deep sinking feeling in her chest was starting to give way. There was no telling when the Grimm would finally break through the West as easily as it could be from the North or South. The girl tightened her fist and felt Aura strain at her summons. She barely had anything left in the tank after Operation Gun Dog, Behemoth, and subduing Inna.

Yang long learned to never stop fighting until the very end, and in no way was her spirit dampened. But the truth was becoming clearer that today may be their day of days. If it was, she wondered if Cinder and Weiss would order Team ENMY’s retreat before then. She wondered if they would obey it if it came down.

Can we still win this?

Yang stared to the back of the cockpit, where Raven absentmindedly tapped the hilt of her sword with impatience.

No, we have to.

I don’t know how, but we will.

I don’t care how bad it looks or what future Mouse and Knives saw.

I can’t let things end this way.

I won’t!

As if reading Yang’s thoughts, Raven noticed her stare and nodded solemnly.

No.

I’m not the only one who won’t let things just end this way.

X X X X X

Back at Atlas HQ, the Queen regents and Board of Directors watched the increasing direness of Vacuo’s situation with widened eyes.

“How far out are the reinforcement Fleet?” Cinder asked for the update.

“Fifteen hours ma’am,” the adjutant replied. “Three hours for the light transport sortie.”

The officer neglected to tell her it was probably the fifth time she asked in the last half hour. She could see the Black Queen was barely keeping herself from shouting the orders.

At that moment, a small blip ringed on her tablet.

“Ma’am…” the officer called uncertainly.

“What is it?”

“The light transport, Swordfish is requesting permission to proceed ahead of the group.”

“Patch them through.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a few key commands, the adjutant secured a line to the team onboard the Swordfish vessel.

“Hey, head honchos!” Coco Adel’s image flared on the projection. “Give Team CFVY the go already. With this ship, we should be able to make it within the hour.”

“Your team is tasked primarily with Team ENMY’s extraction, NOT as a reinforcement element,” Cinder snarled.

“Yeah, but you haven’t given them the order to tail it yet. So, what’s the fuss in letting us get there early and waiting?”

“And if they needed emergency evacuating, but you were neutralized while ‘waiting’. What, then?”

“We can still do our job and help Vacuo.”

“You’re only one team.”

“Weiss! I’ll cut my commission in half if you let us go right now!” Coco shouted.

Cinder turned to her fellow Queen, who had her eyes closed in deep thought. When she opened them, the girl glared right at Coco’s hologram, as if they were speaking in person.

“Nothing reckless! Your primary objective is to assist Team ENMY. Understood?”

“Loud and clear!” Coco whooped.

Weiss looked to the teammates behind her. The image was fuzzy, but she could see Velvet, Yatsuhashi, and Fox show signs of relief. It may have been her imagination, but she might have seen Velvet mouth a small thank you.

“Be careful, Team CFVY,” Weiss cautioned.

“Roger. Team CFVY out,” Coco confirmed.

The White Queen breathed a troubled sigh, intentionally avoiding Cinder’s gaze. Rather than waiting, she extended the first words.

“I think there was a fifty-fifty chance Team CFVY was going to disobey orders, and fly ahead.”

“I would have put the odds closer to eighty-twenty,” Cinder smiled.

Just then, a number of blips came in requesting communications.

“What is this?” Weiss muttered.

“M-ma’ams,” the adjutant started with a small hitch in her voice. “T-they’re requests to sortie ahead. All light transports are saying they are ready and willing to burn their fuel reserves to arrive at Vacuo ahead of schedule. The same requests are being made of General Ironwood and Captain Trafalgar of the main fleet.”

Weiss was struck silent for a moment.

“……If they do that, they won’t have enough Dust for the journey back should the worst happen.”

“They know, ma’am,” the officer nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “They’re aware and requesting permission.”

Weiss looked to Cinder for an explanation, but was only met with the same confusion. The officer then, patched the main projection into what the reinforcement Fleet was viewing.

They were images of Vacuo’s people fighting relentlessly against the Grimm, as they were being torn apart. Many raged, many cried, and they fought harder for the ally who fell mere moments ago, only a few feet away. There wasn’t a single warrior on the battlefield that wasn’t covered in wounds.

Another soldier fell. Her partner took their weapon and slew the Grimm with it. And then, they also died.

What precious few airships Vacuo possessed, dropped like flies. The pilots, who knew their deaths were imminent, made sure to steer their crafts so they would land among the enemy. Any survivors of the crash fought, while missing their limbs.

Emerald, Neo, and Mercury could be seen battling despite their exhaustion. They were surrounded and outnumbered, but held themselves to keeping the choke in the Wall under control. Nothing but the sheerest of wills moved them now. Blood stained their figures head to toe.

“Emerald…!” Cinder bit her lip.

She was ready to pick up the communicator and order their retreat. There was never a time she was closer to doing it than now.

…

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself—and she wasn’t all too sure why.

“Cinder.”

The Black Queen felt Weiss’ hand hold hers. The cool touch alleviated the pain she didn’t notice from her nails digging into her palm.

“They’ll be fine. Help is on the way,” Weiss told her.

“…I know.”

“They won’t fight alone.”

“No…”

“…They won’t.”

X X X X X

Before Mouse could understand what was happening, dark mist clouded his sight. There was a violent vacuum that dragged his body across what felt like a world over. And then, his feet hit solid ground, sliding upon landing.

“No! What?!”

As he spun to take in his new surroundings, he recognized that he was somewhere in Vacuo’s bazaars. Empty stalls and vacant roads were all he could see. The residents and workers had long been evacuated to the bunkers.

His sight eventually settled on a large shadowy cat with smoke billowing its body. Mouse understood what had happened. Blake had warped him away from the throne room.

“NO!” he cried.

“I’m sorry,” a girl’s soft voice could barely be heard.

And then, Blake’s figure vanished with a puff.

…

Summer was at her wit’s end fighting Adam and Camlann at the same time. Using a body that wasn’t hers had its limits. She was also unable to access her Semblance.

As she dodged within a millimeter of having her head cut off by Camlann and her forehead sliced open by Adam, she made a hasty jump back. Summer touched a hand to her hair, and found it a few locks short.

No.

I’m cutting it too close.

If this wasn’t hard enough, if I get hurt once, Knives will wake up.

I’ll lose possession immediately.

As Knives curled her hands in frustration, she heard a voice come from the other side of the throne room.

“Summer!” Temujin yelled. “Stop risking her life!”

“And maybe you should stop trying to give up yours!”

“This is no joke! I will never forgive you if any harm comes to her! Do you hear me?!”

Even though it was Knives’ body, Temujin could see the outline of Summer’s appearance behind her. An older woman, with an overpowering presence despite a gentle nature. A calm determination that reminded her too much of Shepherd.

“You can’t just be brave for yourself, Temujin,” Summer said. “I used to think I was responsible for other’s lives too. But Raven, your daughter, taught me people’s lives are their own.” The woman smiled sadly. “And it’s always their lives to risk. You have to have the courage to see it through on their behalf too.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! This will be meaningless if I lose her. She and Mouse must lead our people.”

“It’s you who doesn’t understand. I’m pushing her body beyond what it’s capable of. Knives is asleep, but I can hear her. She’s screaming, begging me to fight harder—to push harder.”

“…”

“You may have given up, but she hasn’t. I want to grant her wish to its end.”

“Oh, you’re granting wishes now?”

A cloud of dark billowing mass exploded from the empty space and Blake emerged forth. The light in her eyes was glazed and distant. Her face was vacant of emotion, yet something seethed below the tone.

“Salem. Long time no see,” Knives greeted.

“Summer Rose.”

“Still have the spare time to chat, even while fighting Titan?”

“Please, the Old One possesses all the threat of a bothersome mosquito. In fact, I believe the only true adversary I have left in this pathetic remnant is the one standing before me.”

“Wow. Flattered, but I’m not really here,” Summer chuckled.

Blake went silent for a short moment.

“…How did you do it?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Summer grinned.

“I should have known. Raven couldn’t have broken the first contract on her own. You helped her. How?”

The little girl stared blankly back, before shrugging. As if to imply she still had no idea what the other was talking about.

“Hmph,” Salem scoffed. “I doubt you could perform that feat now. This isn’t your body.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Shall we test it?”

“I’m game, if you’re game, Sally.”

Blake glared with an intensity like she could burn a hole through her. But Knives only smiled back with the sort of fierce defiance only a child could have before a deity. It was a duel daring the other to make the first move. A decision to call Summer’s bluff, or concede.

“…Hm. I believe our fated moment will arrive soon enough,” Salem grinned. “A time where we won’t be communicating through proxies, but a meeting face-to-face.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Summer answered.

“Hmph.”

The Witch moved her gaze from Knives to someone past her.

“I believe this is the first time we’ve been formally introduced. I am—”

“I know who you are!” Temujin hacked a large spit to the side. “You’re some dusty, ancient cunt, who wants to be forever young by possessing younger people.”

…

The figure of Knives bent over, clutching her stomach in pain. Summer was trying to stifle her uncontrollable laughter, but was failing. Abrupt snorts escaped through the hands and they would not stop.

“I knew I’d find you insufferable,” Salem scowled.

“And I knew you’d be a boring, pretend-goth, edgelord!”

“…”

More painful cries from Knives echoed the silent throne room.

…

“You like that?!” Temujin glowered. “Ilia taught me that one. I have no idea what it means, but it felt right. And it felt good.”

“Are those truly the last words you wish to part your life with?” Salem asked.

“I have a few more. There’s a list somewhere.” The elder woman started patting her clothes. “Must’ve misplaced it. Had some other good ringers for you.”

“Enough.”

In that moment, three things happened at once. At the Witch’s command, Camlann charged Temujin with his claymore thrust towards her head. The blow was stopped by Summer, who barely caught the sword between two daggers. But her strength alone would have been easily overwhelmed. The only thing that kept her from dying was Temujin activating her Semblance.

The Grimm knight groaned with an unearthly bellow through the slits of its mouthguard. Its surrounding environment worked to kill it, but as testament to its strength, it did not collapse like so many others. Camlann had more than a hardiness found in many of its class. Its entire entity was birthed by the malice held towards Temujin. The final breath of countless Crusaders, who cursed the Great Khan’s name.

In a sense, Camlann was the pinnacle of what a Grimm was.

Even in the face of Temujin and Summer’s combined strength, the monster made one heavy step forward after another. And with that single repeated motion, strained everything Temujin and Summer had.

While the contest of wills proceeded, Blake paid the scene with a light applause.

“A valiant effort. Almost poetic.”

““…!””

Neither Temujin or Summer could muster a comeback. Stressful breaths escaped them in short, stuttering heaves. Sweat coated their skin with increasing fatigue.

“This is exactly reflective of our so-called War. You cannot possibly win, yet you struggle nonetheless. Allow me to enlighten you on a little fact, Temujin.”

“…”

“I know full well what your death will bring. The Faunus will cry with outrage. They may even fight my Grimm back for a time. I very much expect it.”

“…”

“But hold no illusions with you, when you make your journey into the afterlife. Vacuo’s time is over. Its end is not just a certainty, but an eventuality.”

“…I’ll…! Kill…! You…!”

“Tsk tsk. Offer your life to the masses as much as you like—”

“For there will be no victory in strength.”

X X X X X

Emerald was reaching her breaking point.

Her Semblance was stressed to its absolute limits. There were too many minds, too many senses she was coordinating at once. She was constantly flirting with the threshold of a complete brain meltdown. But at the sign of five Vacuo soldiers watching a new break in the Wall form, she pushed her Enchantments harder.

Emerald tried to separate her physical perception from her mental, but she couldn’t shut out the cluster headaches that formed. Her nose was bleeding, practically able to hear the little droplets touch the ground. She inadvertently shuffled her feet, because she almost lost conscious along with her balance. Her shoe knocked slightly against one of the four Godmothers she burned through.

The Western Wall was crawling with Grimm. Its Dust lining worn through the endless tidal waves of creatures sacrificing their bodies against it. The turrets, which used to be the main deterrent, had long been destroyed. And more Grimm climbed over the ramparts with each passing second.

Still, the warriors of Vacuo defended the choke point. Mercury and the other aerial units took down countless of their flying counterparts. Neo was reduced to using the bare minimum to slay the Grimm with the other foot soldiers. Nothing but her physical agility and swordsmanship to commit, but hundreds of their foes fell nonetheless by it.

Emerald felt a stray bone projectile cut her cheek, and almost slipped her mental link. The warriors she coordinated with, sensed it and immediately went to shield her. No care given to their pre-existing wounds.

It was a desperate battle. A miracle in itself they were somehow managing with the forces they had. News over the comm channels told them the North was facing a similar assault, but without the gap in their Wall.

“Em, you need a break!” Mercury told her.

“And who’s going to make this work if I don’t?”

“This fight isn’t going to end any time soon. We’ll need you for the rest of it.”

“Yeah, except Bean’s putting his focus here. I can tell by how the Grimm are moving. If he’s masterminding these fuckers, the only way we hold him off is I keep masterminding our guys back!”

“We can brute force it till you catch a breath.”

“…Oh, hallelujah. Guess I’ll be getting that break after all. You and Neo get your asses back here too.”

Mercury didn’t have to ask why Emerald had a sudden change of mind. About a dozen Atlesian light crafts answered the question for him. One particularly silver-nosed ship, the first to arrive, rained a relentless barrage of machine gun fire from above.

Androids were deployed all around the funnel area, providing support to Vacuo’s warriors and Team ENMY.

After the Grimm’s waves were subdued somewhat, Emerald noticed a lessened coordination. Bean diverted his attentions back to the North theater, as soon as Atlas reinforcements arrived.

“Fffffuck…!” Emerald retracted her mental links and staggered back a few steps. “About freakin’ time these guys showed up.”

Behind her, the Swordfish landed. From its passenger doors, a team of familiar faces stepped out.

“Hey, Emmy~♪ Been a while, huh?” Coco waved. “Do we get a thank you for pulling your ass out of the fire?”

“If I remember right, we should be square from some shit back in Atlas.”

“Nah, you’re remembering wrong. I’ll send you an invoice for our services later.”

“Asshole.”

“Come on. You know you can’t let money stand between good friends.”

“That’s exactly something I would do, and is that what we are?”

As Team CFVY approached, Mercury and Neo joined Emerald. The two teams crossed, and a number of high-fives were exchanged.

“Tag, you’re in,” Emerald groaned.

“Take a knee, kiddo. You’ll owe me,” Coco grinned.

“You guys got energy drinks in that thing?” Mercury pointed to the Swordfish.

“I would not drink it. They taste awful,” Yatsuhashi replied.

“The worst tasting ones are the best ones.”

“That is…completely untrue.”

“Thanks so much for your hard work, you guys,” Velvet said with heartfelt gratitude.

Neo smiled tiredly, and gave her a light pat on the butt.

“Ah!”

Go get ‘em.

“Er, yes. We will!”

Trading places with ENMY, Team CFVY went into the siege defense with a furious motivation. Meanwhile, Emerald and the rest of her crew collapsed into the Swordfish’s interior.

They knew their break would only last half an hour at most. The main Atlesian Fleet was still far away. What reinforcements arrived would not hold out until then by themselves.

Mercury knocked over a nearby cooler, and started draining energy drinks into his open mouth.

“Dude…” Emerald could only comment.

“Don’t judge. You want one?”

“No.” She eyed a thermos with her name on it, along with the price of five-thousand lien written jokingly at the end. “Coco’s special ice coffee. Good shit.”

Neo rummaged through the cooler and found a few ice cream bars set aside for her. It appeared Velvet had left a thank you note next to it as well.

As their team took their long-deserved break, they practically inhaled what they considered their late lunch. Too tired to eat, but forced whatever they could into their stomachs. They watched from a safe distance as the Wall remained a desperate battlefield, ready to jump in at any moment.

There was no talk. They couldn’t afford to. And their thoughts of Yang were obvious, and didn’t need voicing.

It was everything they could do to recover and then will themselves back into the fray.

Half an hour. A time that passed all too quickly, and at the same time, not fast enough. They would not rejoin the fight if they had a choice. No one in their right mind would.

But what they wanted was not what the world needed. Vacuo needed its warriors. Remnant needed its Enemy.

Mercury chucked another empty can into the street, before he began chugging a new one midstride. Emerald stretched her neck and pressed her knuckles to her temples. Neo moved silently, without any excess motion.

She bade one look in the direction of the Hanging Gardens. Even if it was brief, catching a glimpse of Yang was enough to lift her spirits.

“Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked,” Emerald sang.

“Money don’t grow on trees.

I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed.

There ain’t nothin’ in this world for free.

Oh no, I can’t slow down, I can’t hold back.”

“Though you know, I wish I could.”

X X X X X

“No, there ain’t no wish for the Wicked. Until we close our eyes for good~”

Salem murmured the last part of the song, while watching the events swirl around her. The landscape around them drifted in and out without rhyme or reason. A world at a crossroads of all the available paths fate could turn.

She stared at the multiple incarnations of Titan littering the ground. Each with bated breath, trying to stay conscious after their lengthy fight, which eventually brought them to the Never Realm.

Salem waved her hand and summoned the events happening around Vacuo like multiple memories playing out.

Her army in the South resumed its march after dragging Titan out of the physical plane. Vacuo’s Northern Wall was facing heavy siege from the Grimm under Bean’s command. And now, more of her forces were being committed to the crack in the West.

“And, so falls the great and mighty titan,” she said with sarcastic flair.

“I’ve lived long enough,” the Old Ones responded in unison.

“I wasn’t speaking of you. I was referring to Vacuo and…” With another wave of her hand, Hanging Garden’s throne room surrounded them. “…her.”

Camlann was advancing ever so slowly. Summer mustered every strength she could to stop the blow from reaching Temujin, and Temujin was doing all she could to save Knives.

“This is the part where you would normally run. So, why haven’t you?”

Titan’s bodies felt the Witch’s curse quicken in their blood streams.

“…You truly mean to die.”

“Hah…! You sound almost disappointed with my defeat!” the Old One spat back. “I thought you would be delighted.”

“Oh, I am. I just assumed there were still a few more vain attempts in you before the end. Some last-ditch efforts, but alas—I once again find myself overestimating my age-old adversary. As if my impression of you could be any lower.”

“This fight has been over for me…long before Vacuo.”

“Indeed,” she sighed. “Look at them all, Titan. So small. Their very conceptual awareness is flawed.”

“Is it? I rather think it is the opposite.”

“This world is at an end. It’s been at its end for a while, before they were even born. Remnant is a ghost, a flawed byproduct of a figment that was never meant to be. You know this better than anyone.”

“What I know is wrong.”

“You still believe?”

Salem made the images spin like a twisted carousel. Every life lost in real time flashed before their eyes. Bodies going cold, the souls leaving their vessels, the last beat of their hearts before their final breath extinguished.

“They are entertaining little creatures. So weak, but very much entertaining,” the Witch admitted.

“Yes, they are. As weak as possible, but also as strong as when it requires. Never too much, never too little. Just right,” the Wizard rasped.

Salem cocked her head with suspicion. A paranoia flitted her expression, before she shook it away.

“No, this is enough. In Oberon’s memory, in your brother’s memory, I thought I could hold one decent conversation with you before you died. But true to form, you speak of nothing but foolish drivel.”

“Feeling lonely? The only immortal left will be Masa.”

“I’m sure I’ll find a way to cope with your loss.”

““Hahaha!”” an echoing cacophony of the reincarnations laughed.

In the midst of the immortals’ banter, one reincarnation separated Qrow from the others. The two had fled the battlefield ahead of time, and masked their presence.

“It’s about time you made your exit, Qrow.”

“What are you talking about, Oz? This isn’t the deal.”

“The rest of us will manage on our own. Your task is far from over.”

Ozpin took Qrow’s hand, and pressed something into it. The veteran Huntsman turned it over, examining it with intense curiosity.

It was a gold knight chess piece. A familiar artifact Qrow had seen once before. Something he spotted in the corner of Team RWBY’s dorm back at Beacon. Apparently, they had been used as Relics in their entrance exam.

“You know, I’ve granted so many wishes over the years,” part of Ozpin and part of Titan mused. “This may be the first time I’ve entrusted another with my own.”

“Titan…” Qrow could only mutter.

“Please, bring this to Yang Xiao Long. This is my final request.”

“……What is it?”

“Hm.”

Ozpin put a hand to his chin and chuckled lightly.

“I believe your niece referred to it once as,”

“A cute little pony.”

…

The reincarnations all paused in their laughter. They sensed Qrow leave the Never Realm, making for the Hanging Gardens in his shapeshifted form. Their Relic firmly in his possession.

“I’m a bit tired,” Titan sighed. “But I think I do have one more ‘vain attempt’ in me,” he smirked at Salem.

The Wizard arranged quick transportation for Taiyang Xiao Long with his last bit of influence on the physical world.

And with that, I have fulfilled the wish Summer made to me, which I refused so long ago.

If only I had tried to grant it from the beginning, maybe I wouldn’t have pushed her away.

Too late for that now, I suppose.

Together, the reincarnations of the Old One rose to their feet. A reverent green light encompassed them all. Their expressions steeled with a hallowed resolve.

“SO, THE END COMES!”

The swarm of past lives attacked the Witch like an army bent on its own destruction.

And the death of the Immortal Titan came to pass.

X X X X X

Blake blinked.

Her pupils dilated and readjusted, while in the throne room. She opened and closed her hand to test her reflexes. The sensation of the possession was now completely different.

Ah, so he destroyed the vessel with that last move.

Vain attempt, indeed.

Merely accelerated my transference to this one.

The Witch gave a low, rolling laugh.

Before her, was still the stalemate between Temujin, Summer, and Camlann. Adam was the only one to really notice the change in Blake.

Salem could barely control herself. She couldn’t stop laughing. Her shoulders shuddered and her cheeks were starting to feel sore. And then, she noticed something odd, which put an end to her fit.

Light tears trickled down her face.

…

…Am I actually mourning that old fool?

I hated him.

And, still.

“I’ve had enough of this,” the Witch growled. “I am growing tired as well…old friend.”

She bit her lip, and was overcome with emotions she hadn’t felt in centuries.

“We will find our peace. You, your brother, and I. Not in this lifetime…”

“…but the next.”

X X X X X

“You’ve done enough, Summer!” Temujin shouted at the small back defending her. “Take Knives, and leave!”

“I won’t!” Summer refused. “I have promises to keep…!”

“You need to let whatever needs to happen, happen. You said yourself, other people’s lives are to do with as they please.”

“That’s only true for people still willing to fight! You resigned to your fate, so it doesn’t count…!”

Temujin could feel her Semblance waning, while she argued with Summer. There would soon be nothing to stop Camlann from running Knives through, and herself after. She wondered what else she could say to plead the woman into leaving. She wondered if it was possible at all.

“Summer…please. Take Knives and go.”

“The answer is still no,” Summer shook her head vehemently. “Nope!”

“You’re so foolish. I’ll never forgive you.”

“Nope! The stupid thing would be to leave you here on your own. And that’s a mistake I’ve already made…!”

“…”

“Nope! We can still do the right thing!”

Knives and Summer’s eyes shone with a twinkling silver. A vision of the future was deviating from its set course. The memory shaped and aligned to something Summer once saw in a dream. Yang and Raven were close. Qrow was on his way. Taiyang was exiting a green police box outside.

“They’re going to be here soon, Temujin. If you want to give up after this, that’s fine because I might actually join you. But not before my team’s had their turn!”

“…What are you talking about?”

Summer’s mischievous grin grew from ear to ear.

“STRQ Team’s last mission!”

#rwby #yang xiao long #emerald sustrai #neopolitan #mercury black #raven branwen #qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #Summer Rose #TEAM STRQ #ENMY

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moonwitch-grimoire · 6 years

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Thursday December 21st 2017, Yule & Winter Solstice

Final day of Sagittarius, 6:39 pm, Waxing Crescent Moon

Today’s Post includes:

Yule traditions

old gods vs monotheistic gods

balance of dark and light

wheel of the year

some Yule stuff to do

Blessed Yule and Happy Holidays, brothers, sisters, and angels on earth!

As avowed, today shall begin my chronicles, logging magic knowledge and my personal activities. Where possible i will provide resources, and a lot of my information can be found elsewhere on my blog in other posts!

As usual I didn’t wake up into 4:20, which is a lit more distressing than it is funny, actually, and since I’m lazy, i ordered a pizza and watched the latter half of a Thor movie, WHICH got me thinking about winter and it’s gods!

History Time:

As I’m sure many, but probably not all, of you know, Yule and Christmas and Hanukkah all contend for time in December (though i don’t see why we can’t all just get along) But they all used to be during different times! Yule used to be in mid January, Christmas was late spring, and....i actually don’t know about Hanukkah, so I’ll do some research and get back to you (or you can drop me a line and teach me!) After Emperor Constantine legalized Christianity in the first century, it spread through the empire, and once it was made the official religion of Rome, people started spreading the good word (for better or worse).

What the priests and monks did was migrate the real date of Jesus Christ’s birth to winter to better line up with the Yule Festival, the Druid Alban Arthuan, and Saturnalia, which had previously been the Empire’s Winter festival celebrating Saturn/Kronos, lasted for 7 days, and let all classes and races interact equally in ancient Rome and it’s colonies. By grouping the ‘Wild Northerners’ festval and the old Roman festival together with the new official religion of the Empire, the Christian church managed to ease a transition of power through the late 1st century and dark ages.

So what does this tell us? Other than a lot of aggressive anti-whatever-religion-i-am-not stuff, multiple festivals were celebrated in winter. It was a time of feasting, peace, and revelry where everyone was seen as equal and good, which is a comforting thought. There was a whole lot of meat to feast on, since feed for the animals was short, there was no war or battles (George Washington is an outlier and should not be counted), and the night was long, which meant everyone was inside around their fires and candles, with nothing to do but eat.

This meant there was singing and dancing, lots of drinking alcohol, laughter and games, and, my personal favorite, story telling. People would gather in the largest house in their village, or in their family’s main house, the town hall maybe, and feast and celebrate. Obviously in places like Egypt where there was no snow, things were a bit different, but as Yule was a mostly northern Germanic and Scandinavian festival, we can comfortably exclude the Egyptian’s (for the moment). This was a time of unity and connection. Check your weapons at the door, give the poor money and food, unite in revelry and sing loud enough the ceiling shakes.

Saturn (or the Greek Kronus/Chronos) was the center of the festival Saturnalia, as he was the titan king of time. Demeter and Persephone would also receive tithes, as Proserpine was in the underworld with old Pluto, and Demeter was moping in the overworld. It was a time of renewal and rebirth, sacrifices for a return of the light and quick return to spring. The Norse Aesir also got their fair share, Loki among them, as he was both the snow they fled and the fire they thrived on. Odin, as cheif of the Aesir and the Allfader was of course top of the list, leading men on the hunt and sitting at the head of the table for feast. Thor and his goats got involved, and everyone prayed and worshiped the sun goddess, in hopes that she would be reborn and return. And the Christians celebrated St. Thomas day and the relocated birth of Christ festival

Traditions:

Yule was chiefly a festival for rebirth, the end of the old year and birth of a new one. As the Winter Solstice is the longest night of the year, early cultures who lacked knowledge of a round Earth found the briefness of the sun distressing if not downright terrifying. So they worshiped their sun deities while placating their winter deities and hoped and prayed. Lucky for them the days got longer shortly after after even if the winter carried on.

In order to preserve the power of nature subdued under all that snow, people would bring in evergreen boughs, winter plants and greenery to decorate their homes, which is now the boughs of holly, trees, and garlands we know so well. The survival of life was crucial and these evergreen boughs gave both hope and joy, since everyone knows there’s nothing quite like the smell of a pine tree.

The giving of gifts started relatively simpler than presents, but as a gift of money, food, clothes, or some other item someone needed desperately. Inviting the poor into the homes of the rich to feast and be warm and safe in this dark time was a tithe to your fellow man and to the gods. This was especially prevalent in Scandinavian culture, since Odin was known to walk about disguised as an old man and they who brought him into their home would be richly rewarded on good fortune or more practical payment.

Story telling. In a time where there were little to no roads, freezing weather, and only the rich had horses, donkeys or steeds of that kind, travelers were considered stupid, brave, or both. In the old days, many of these travelers were bards and storytellers. They too were invited in, bringing familiar tales everyone knew but the very youngest, always with a new element or twist, or else tales of far away from different lands. In exchange for a warm bed and a good meal these bards spun tales of the gods, heroes, magic, and adventure.

The gods and God:

Being Omnitheist (a tale for another day), I have a very peculiar look at how the old gods and the Abrahamic gods interact. but looking at it from a step back, we can all agree to some extent that Christianity moved throughout the empire pushing out the old gods to make way for He Who Is Three (the Christian God). For better or worse, those are the facts. However, clearly, we haven't forgotten them and they are still with us. No one is the good guy or the bad guy, no one god is to be blamed for what has happened (though I think some of the tricksters and lords of chaos and conflict are in the line of fire for recent events) And Yule, of all time sis when people should band together in acceptance and love. I guarantee, your personal deity will not damn you to punishment if you hug someone with different religion this holiday season.

The Balance of Dark and Light:

In my opinion, the saddest truth of the universe is that no matter how much we wish it, we cannot have joy without sorrow, happiness without pain, or Light without Dark. The world must stay balanced, not necessarily perfectly balanced in a single position, as this generated stagnation such as the Egyptians experienced. In order for the motion of the world to continue, there must be loses followed by victories allowing the scales of Dark and Light to tip and lean, never upending themselves but never still.

Furthermore, Dark is not always Bad, and Light is not always good, but again, that is a tale for another day.

Yule is a time of balance, of rebirth, it is the darkest time of year when the world is (supposedly) buried in snow and cold, the darkness hounding every moment and shows the end of time. And the beginning. This is a time of unity, compassion, camaraderie. Now is a time for love and acceptance, rich and poor, old and young from every culture, religion, background, race, and place. Soon a new year will come, bringing fresh flowers and sunshine and beauty and light. But for now we band together, Halfway through the dark.

As For Me:

I gave up on Christmas a long time ago. I won’t tell anyone to stop celebrating it and i will not forget what it’s supposed to celebrate but for my Christmas has too many dark memories, now more than ever. But Yule! my souls sings the praises of winter and snow and shadow. Yule is my chosen winter festival, though some may choose to celebrate them all! So tonight, for the first time in longer than i care to admit here’s my game plan:

post this long ass post

set up my alter and light candles for my gods (more below)

cleanse in moon water and smoke, both myself and my space

rebuild and reinforce my wards (Tale For Another Day)

Worship (TFAD)

play (more below)

My alter is actually my bedside table. i do use it as such, however, as soon as i lay my alter cloth there, it becomes a sacred space. Tonight, my alter will have acorns for rebirth, a small oak branch that fell on my head once, a pumpkin from Samhein, a variety of crystals including bloodstone (which is good for yule) and moonstone (because i love it). my candles will be white tea lights, here used for purity and peace, and some moon water and fruit as an offering to the gods of winter, rebirth, snow, and spring.

by ‘play’ i mean revelry in as classic a form as i can. I have chocolate lava cakes in the fridge, there’s pizza in there and my room mate is also cooking. I’m going to listen to some old timey music and watch a couple movies about witch craft and yule magic. I can give out a list of that stuff if y’all’d like to know what i have in mind. I’ll do a little casting on myself. I’ll probably sing and read a bit and maybe convince my friend to go walk with me and play Pokemon GO. That may seem out of the mood, but going outside in the night, feeling the yule energy and saying hello to every tree i pass is something I feel is important. Catching the 10 new Hoenn region Pokemon they just released is just an added bonus.

Above all Yule is a time for rebirth. Now is when you wanna cleanse and rework your wards, shields and protective spells. It’s a time for new ideas and concept, staring a new journey! Now is a good time to start new projects and become a better you. I have faith in you.

If you read this far, you’re a champ! Lots of love this Holiday season and Blessed Yule!

Blessings upon you from whosoever you choose to accept them from and merry meet again!

-Echo Celani

#chronicles #text #yule #winter #winter solcitice #long text post #old gods #long post #under the cut #happy yule #yule festival

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thelonelybrilliance · 6 years

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TVD Sassy Recap - 2x15 - The Dinner Party

Last week it was a tea party. What now?

Last week, Elena found the "other Jonathan Gilbert journals." I sometimes forget that this show is called "The Vampire Diaries" and I'm quite honestly not that interested in the overarching plotline. Give me Damon, and Delena, and little else.

BUT NO WE ARE READING JONATHAN GILBERT'S JOURNALS. He was melodramatic af, it will not surprise you.

There are also flashbacks. An old-timey family, presumably, the Gilberts, are eating dinner in VERY dark candlelight. Y'all, why are you going outside? They have to be invited in you DIMWITS. So just stay in your house!!

Of course everyone dies, including Jonathan Gilbert...who somehow survived his own death? Oh, right. THE RINGS OF POWER. ALso Stefan was the one doing all the murdering. If it's any relief, his hair looks better now and he's also very good at skipping stones on the water.

Damon calls him to tell him that "he has a murder to plan," meaning, Elijah.

Elijah, meanwhile, is having shenanigans with Jenna. Like, whatever. I only care about one half of this convo. And then Alaric shows up, and Jenna runs off for a sec, so great, I finally like all the people in a scene!

ALSO there's this great moment where ALaric gets all protective about Jenna and Elijah says he doesn't pursue younger women and Ric's brow darkens and Elijah just CLAPS HIM ON THE SHOULDER and smarms, "It's a joke, Ric. Lighten up." I laughed out loud.

Of course, not for long, because i have to deal with Luca, Bonnie, and Jeremy, three terrible people. Luca, you and your goatee are unwelcome. Jeremy, don't get cozy. I'm not wild about you either.

Stefan is wearing his trademark leather jacket + hoodie combo and presumably, wasting this romantic weekend to do the hands-on-hips angsting.

ooohh now we have arms-folded-over-chest angsting. RANGE.

Elena seems hella surprised that Stefan killed people, and was monstrous, even though...I'm pretty sure we knew that.

Apparently vampire Stefan liked to wreck their house and have terrible parties where he was as sassy and smarmy and bitey as Damon, and Damon was super serious and soulful. BACKStORY (Damon's eyes look very pretty tho). Why Damon has enlisted Andie to be a part of any of this? He brings her everywhere. Also a dinner party with Elijah is a BAD idea.

Also a bad idea? Damon visiting Katherine in the tomb. Maybe not, though, since he's confirming the killing-original theory--or trying to--and then leaves her in apparent fear that Elijah will die and she'll be compelled forever.

I'm so not int he mood for continued Stefan angsting. We do flashback to how he met Lexi, however. And learn how she decided to convert him to Better Ways.

Stefan, in present day, gets slightly emotional. "Talking about Lexi brings up things I'd rather forget," he says, teary-eyed. "Like Damon killing her," Elena supplies. DAMN ELENA AREN'T YOU SUBTlE.

Andie and Jenna, the two most ridiculous people on this show currently (Ok, so it's not really Andie's fault) (also they look identical)

"There's no such thing as a bad idea, just...poorly executed awesome ones." - Damon Salvatore, explaining his life philosophy.

(Alaric does not agree)

JOHN GILBERT SHOWS UP UNINVITED BECAUSE OF COURSE

Jeremy set up candles and dinner for Bonnie and it's so excruciating my brain can't even function enough to tell you everything that's happening.

Elijah arrives--in style, as he does EVERYTHING--and tells Damon that if Damon tries anything, Elijah will literally kill EVERYONE. He is not playin'.

And Damon, of course, is unperturbed, and wants to know why Elijah's so invested in his plan to investigate some juicy history about dozens of witches being massacred.

Elena reads Jonathan Gilbert's heartfelt, crazed musings, and learns that the dagger is the REAL DEAL but also ANY VAMPIRE WHO WIELDS IT WILL DIE. So John is trying to kill Damon, because JOHN IS THE WORST.

When STefan finds this out, he gets very panicky and brotherly and YES STEFAN PLEASE GO SAVE DAMON

I DO NOT I REPEAT DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR JOHN INTERFERING IN RIC AND JENNA'S RELATIONSHIP THE ONLY PERSON I LIKE IN THIS TRIANGLE IS RIC

FORTUNATELY Stefan has the wherewithal to call Ric as well, and Ric warns Damon in a hilarious scene where he WRITES IT ON AN ENVELOPE and Damon is peeved but they do all of this in total silence because otherwise Elijah hear them.

Damon openly insulting John Gilbert gives me life.

BUT PSOIYYYKK Alaric daggers Elijah himself!!!

OK I for real do not have time for this drama. Elena is mad at Stefan for wanting to kill Elijah, and like...why would she have a problem with that? Why are you both fakely mad at each other so frequently? Stefan manages to gain her forgiveness with more sappy Lexi anecdotes, about how vampires love deeply and feelings are real, and yadayadaya where's Damon.

Ric yells at Damon for enacting violence while Jenna was...adjacent...and it's kind of cute because Ric is like, "I'M YOUR FRIEND STOP LYING ALL THE DAMN TIME" and Damon doesn't exactly argue. BROS.

OH CRAPPERS Y'ALL WERE SUPPOSED TO LEAVE THE DAGGER IN

GUESS WHO'S BACKKKK Not to kill them, though. Not yet. Elijah instead goes to Father Doctor Witch and tells him to find Elena AT ONCE. Elijah's hair looks good ruffled.

Witch Doctor then attacks the Gilbert house, breaking up an almost-make-out-sesh between Jeremy and Bonnie. So, you know. Doing the Lord's work. Father Doctor Witch is pissed and takes away Bonnie's power.

AND THEN ELIJAH SHOWS UP AT THE LAKEHOUSE WITH A HANDFUL OF PEBBLES WITH WHICH HE BLOWS OFF THE DOOR.

Elena has a VERY badass moment in which she tells Elijah that she will kill herself and be turned into a vampire before she lets him kill all her friends; then she will be useless as a doppelganger. ELijah smarms and calls her bluff and SHE LEGITS STABS HERSELF IN THE STOMACH, and then Elijah gives his word but then GUESS WHAT SHE STABS HIM AND LEAVES THE DAGGER IN--turns out Damon popped up to the lakehouse and gave it to her. Stefan heals her and quite honestly, I will GIVE ELENA THAT. That was some good-ass plotting y'all.

Jenna and ALaric break up, and I don't care about Jenna but Alaric is hot and sad and then JOHN FREAKING GILBERT COMES IN AND IS SNARKY AS FUUUU I HATE HIMMM

Alaric gives him the ring back. Damnit.

Elena tells her Salvatore bois that she's going to call the shots. They're almost sharing a moment and then Stefan sticks it to Damon about Damon murdering her. Which, admittedly, is fair but also it's sad. We finally flash back to Lexi advising Damon and him telling her to take care of Stefan and UGH ANGST that he would someday kill her.

AND THEN KATHERINE ARRIVES

GUESS WHAT COMPULSION IS NOT POSTHUMOUSSS

#tvd #vampire diaries #the vampire diaries #sassy recaps #my recaps

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rebelbyrdie · 7 years

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Swan Queen Storybits #3

Practical Magic - OUAT Story

Cursed

Once Upon A Time there was a Miller’s Daughter who had the gift of magic. She was the most powerful witch in the colonies, it was rumored she had to power to control hearts. People admired her beauty and feared her power. She cared little for the opinions of others, though. She had the power of magic and that was enough for her. All magic, though, has a price. Perhaps she could control hearts, but not her own. One spring day, between storms, she fell in love and that was her undoing.

She fell in love, wonderfully and hopelessly in love, with a powerful man. He was an elder in the Church and owned more land than they eye could see. He owned ships and controlled trade. He was handsome and kind to her. He smiled when others scowled and tucked flowers behind her ear. He was married to another woman, though.

Love, innocent and bright, over-rode her senses, and she was with him despite his wife. She thought that their love, true love, would protect them. She thought he would protect her. She thought he would protect them, when she found out she was with child.

He did not.

When the Church Elders interrogated her and branded her a harlot and worse, he stood with them, silent and disapproving. He betrayed her. He had never loved her.

She carried the child in sorrow and solitude. When she gave birth her screams echoed in her late father’s empty hovel. She gave birth to a little girl and her entire world changed. She had never known love, true love, until that moment. She nursed her daughter and swore two things. That her daughter would never want as she did, never be wretchedly poor and cold. Then, as she nuzzled the newborn she spoke an incantation to protect her daughter from the pain of love and the men who toyed with women’s hearts.

Only the spell was a curse. The Mills Witch, as the nearby inhabitants called her, never loved again. She raised her daughter in sorrow. The girl grew up in grace and beauty and, despite her mother’s many warnings, she fell in love and married. Four months after the birth of her own daughter, though, her husband died. So began The Mills Curse.

That is not this story. This story takes place generations later and it begins with two sisters and a wish.

***

It was a beautiful day. The sky was a sharp winter blue and the New England sun shined bright but didn’t quite cut through the cold. The grass was frosted over and the ground was hard underfoot. The graveyard was silent except for the Preist’s token words. Though Henry had been beloved by the community, no one attended his funeral. Storybrooke did not mourn the cursed.

Cora Mills stood just behind her daughters. She was a beautiful woman, slight in stature but graceful. She knew she was still young, still vital, but she felt old-centuries old. The weight of the curse pressed on her shoulders. This was the second husband she had buried, and the loss clawed at her: sharper and stronger than the first time. Her girls stood hand in hand, both dressed in black as the coffin that held the man they both called “Daddy” was lowered into the ground.

That was why it hurt more. When John, her first husband, had died her oldest had only been a babe in arms. She’d been far too small to understand what she had lost.

Henry, unlike John, had been a good man, a kind man. He had raised both girls as if they were his own, even though it was very obvious that fair skinned and red-haired Zelena was not his child. Regina, olive skinned and as dark haired as her father was-had been, was six, Zelena was only barely eight. They had both been happy little Daddy’s Girls who thought Henry had hung the moon and all the stars. Henry had loved her and their girls and hadn’t given two damns what anyone else thought about The Curse. He hadn’t believed in it. It had still taken him, just as it had John, and her own father, and her grandfather.

The Curse took and took and could not be broken. She knew that now. She had doubted, for a few glorious years, she had believed more in their family than the curse. Two times she had let herself fall in love. Two times the curse had taken her love away. Cora knew that two times was too many. No more husbands, no more deaths, no more love for her. Love, the last tear she allowed herself to shed slid down her cheek, was weakness. She had to be strong. She laid a hand on either of her daughter’s heads. She had to be strong for her girls, curse or no. She had to make them understand and make them believe in the curse. She had to brand it into their young minds so they wouldn’t suffer: Love is weakness.

It was late, the Mickey Mouse clock read almost midnight. Zelena twisted around only to find her little sister missing from their shared bed. "Gina!“ She sat up and looked around. Their room was lit by a nightlight and the moon. It was a full moon and their big window was wide open. The curtains flapped in the breeze. Regina, the smallest girl in second grade, had climbed out their large window and onto the steep roof. And people thought *she* was the crazy sister. Zelena pushed the quilt off and tossed her neatly braided red hair over her shoulder. She had to pull Regina back inside before she fell and died. She bit her lip, she didn’t want Regina to be hurt and she really didn’t want her to die. She tiptoed out of bed, "what are you doing?” Her voice was a whisper. Mama’s bedroom was right across the hallway and she always knew when they were misbehaving. It was magic, Zelena knew it.

“Sis!” She hurried over to the window and her jaw dropped open when she saw what Regina had done.

She had three candles precariously placed around her, a pile of apple blossoms and a sheet of paper. Her signet ring hung off a chain, just like Zelena’s. Daddy had given them each a ring for Christmas. It had the Mills Family seal on it because he said that they should never be ashamed of who they were. Zelena tugged at her own ring, a little anxious.

"Mama is gonna be mad if she sees you doing-whatever it is you’re doing.“

Regina looked over her shoulder, her own braid had come loose in the breeze, dark tendrils whipped around her face, "I’m beating the curse.”

Zelena wrinkled her nose, “Why? I thought you said you never wanted to fall in love.” She parroted her sister’s own words back at her. She boosted herself up onto the window sill and carefully climbed out. The roof’s shingles were cold and rough on her bare feet Maybe her sister was crazy, but she wouldn’t let her be crazy alone.

Regina smiled sadly, “I don’t. That’s why I’m casting this.” She nodded her head at the thick book, their mother’s, that rested on the window sill. They weren’t supposed to do magic without their mother, but Daddy had always laughed when they had light fights and made their dollies dance. He’d called them his Little Witches.

“Amas Veritas?” Zelena frowned, “I don’t get it.” Regina was better at figuring out the old timey magic words then she was.

Regina lit the candles one by one by gently blowing on them. The flame was small but bright, just like her sister. "It means true love. If I cast a spell for someone who can’t possibly exist, then I can’t fall in love with them so I’ll be safe.“

Zelena blew out a puff of breath, she hated The Cure. "How do you know he won’t exist?”

“She.” Regina corrected, “The spell always kills boys but never girls. So my True Love will be a girl.”

Zelena wanted to argue, but also didn’t want to discourage her sister. It was the first time Gina had stopped crying since their Daddy had died.

“She will give me a son.” Which was impossible since part of the curse was that Mills women only had daughters, never sons. There hadn’t been a male Mills in their entire history. "And will travel from far away, lead by a wish. She’ll be strong and kind, whistle my favorite song, be able to flip pancakes in the air, and ride a horse backwards.“

Regina looked up at the stars, "Her favorite shape will be a star and she’ll have one green eye and one blue.”

Zelena giggled a little, "She definitely sounds like Princess Charming.“

Regina held the apple blossom in her cupped hands and blew it into the night sky, letting her spell float away with it. "Exactly. She’s a fairytale, a dream, so I will never find her and I will never fall in love.”

Zelena sighed, “But I want to fall in love. I want to know what it’s like. I want to feel it and enjoy the ride. I want it to be wild and exciting.” Because if she didn’t marry them, maybe they wouldn’t die. That was the real way to beat The Curse.

They sat there, together under the full moon, and thought about love magic and their hopes for the future. Daddy had alway said they’d had big futures. Big futures for little girls.

***

“Lena, you’re going to fall and break your neck!”

Regina stood at their window, in her pajamas, and watched her sister climb out of it. She worried at her ring and both hoped and dreaded her mother coming back early. At eighteen, her sister was everything that Regina wasn’t. She was wild, carefree, tall and beautiful, and brave. Zelena was foolishly, and sometimes wickedly, brave.

“I’ll be fine, Gina.” She pulled her bag through the window and then paused. “I’m a Mills, tough as nails you know.”

Regina smiled a little, but didn’t stop a tear from slipping down her cheek.

“But I won’t be around to help you if you need it.”

Only this time she wasn’t going to run around Storybrooke raising hell with Ruby Lucas. It was a boy. His name was August, he had a motorcycle and Zelena swore she loved him. They were going to have wonderful adventures together. They were going to see the world.

“It’s going to be okay, Gina.”

She grinned and quirked a brow, “Hold on.”

Zelena stood and walked over to the edge of the roof, “Darling throw me your pocket knife.”

After a moment she came back to the window and flicked a small knife open. She slid the blade across her palm. Red blood welled up. Before Regina could say a word, she winced as Zelena cut her own hand.

“Your blood.” Zelena clapped their bleeding hands together, “My blood.” They held their hands tightly together. “My blood.” Zelena smiled, “Our blood. Our magic. There’s nothing stronger than blood magic, Sis.”

They sat there, hands clasped, under the stars.

“Take care of yourself, Lena.”

The redhead grinned, “You know me, I always meet trouble head on with a fireball in either hand.”

Regina pulled her into a tight hug. “I love you.”

Zelena hugged her right back, “Love you too.”

Regina watched Zelena toss her bag to the ground the shimmy down the trellis. Zelena jumped into August’s arms and he spun her around. Zelena looked happy.

Regina watched until the motorcycle went out of sight with Zelena holding tightly to her boyfriend. Regina kept watching the full moon alone. She wrapped her arms around her knees and looked out across Storybrooke. The small town was laid out in front of her, the same view that every Mills had seen since the founding of their town. She understood why Zelena was leaving. The Mills were pariahs in Storybrooke, hated and bullied from cradle to grave, quite literally. They didn't hang witches anymore, but they didn’t like them either. Regina had heard the same slur all of her life.

Witch, Bitch, Cursed, Evil.

They hated her for the magic within her. Her mother had used their hatred, their fear. She seemed to thrive on it. Cora Mills was made out of steel and had told the over and over that they had to be strong.

Regina didn’t know how to be strong like her mother. She didn’t know how to be brave like Zelena. Regina just wanted to be normal. She didn’t want adventure. She didn’t want love. She didn’t even want magic. She just wanted to be Regina.

Time passed, two years slipped by with a few letters from Zelena. Regina went to college far enough away that Mills was just another name. No one had known about her magic or her family curse. She had been just another co-ed. It had been the most normal she’d ever felt.

Then, degree in hand, she had returned to Storybrooke. She joined her mother at the accounting firm that Cora and Henry had built together. She buried herself in numbers, tax codes, audits and (ins). She wore well cut suits and reading glasses, read self-improvement books. She did Pilates and adopted a tortoiseshell cat named Buttons from the shelter. She was normal. No magic. No curse. No adventure. No love. Regina Mills was perfectly normal and content to live her life alone.

Then she met Daniel.

It happened quickly, just like the romance novels she would never admit to reading. She had finally agreed to go to one of Kathryn’s Ladies Nights. She had turned the blonde down time and time again, so just once. She relented this just once. I was just a few ladies drinking watered-down margaritas at the local watering hole. It would be dull, Regina had assumed. She hadn’t expected to meet anyone. Everyone in Storybrooke knew who she was. They knew what she was. No man would ask her dance, unless they were fulfilling a dare.

He’d looked up from his pool game and smiled at her. His smile had caught her attention from across the room. She had always told herself she wasn’t ever going to be a wake-kneed damsel who was attracted to blue eyes and a dark five o’clock shadow. Daniel was funny, though. He was smart and silly. He called her beautiful and smart. He bought her wine to drink and showed her pictures of his beloved horses. He didn’t believe in magic or curses. He didn’t even like Halloween. He was a normal guy who liked baseball and documentaries about space. He smelled like hay and Old Spice. He didn’t care that her last name was Mills.

How could she not fall in love with him?

***

Dear Lena,

It is exactly like all the magazines and romance movies. Daniel is everything I could hope for. He is kind and smart. Mother hates him, of course. Love is weakness, after all. It doesn’t feel like weakness. Lena, it feels like freedom. While you were visiting Los Angeles in June we were married. I wish you could have been here, Lena. We had it outside, in Porter’s Field. The flowers were all blooming. It was perfect. It was better than magic.

Dearest Lena,

We got the house. Mother did not like it, of course, but it’s a nice normal house on Cove Lane-the one Mister Marco re-built just two years ago. It’s even got a picket fence, if you believe that. No one screams names at me anymore. No one calls me a witch or a bitch or anything else. I’m normal. Things are changing here. You’ve seen the world, but I swear Storybrooke has seen the light.

My Darling Sister,

Or should I correct that to new Auntie. The adoption went through and I am thrilled to tell you that Henry Jr has finally come home. Mother acted like she didn’t approve, but she has already started spoiling him. He’s perfect, my Little Prince. Daniel is a great father, so patient and happy to change diapers and deal with spit up. I was afraid he wouldn’t want to adopt, but he loves Henry no matter what. You can see it in his eyes. Come home soon, Zelena, so you can meet the newest member of the Mills clan.

Dear Lil Gina,

I hope Junior got the gifts I sent him.

It all went just like it was supposed to, just like all the magazine and romance books said. They went on dates and fell in love. They got married in June a meadow full of flowers, and after a year they adopted a baby boy and named him Henry, after her father. It was like a fairy tale and she forgot all about the curse.

The curse, though, didn’t forget about her. She got the call on November second, it was a rainy day and she’d stayed home with Henry because he’d had the flu all week. Daniel had promised to stop by the grocery on his way home from the stables, to pick up some more cough syrup and orange juice. Daniel, in his sensible sedan, had never stood a chance against the drunk tourist in a giant SUV, not on the slick and curvy coast road that bordered the cliffs. When Sheriff Graham had come to their small house with a picket fence with his hat in his hands, she had known. She had known before he said a single word. She had known, Regina would later tell herself, the moment it had happened. The lights had dimmed and the air had tasted like sulfur. Her Daniel was dead, another victim of The Curse.

Daniel’s sister, Mary Margaret, slapped her across the face at the funeral home. “You Evil Witch!” Regina had been too numb, too wrapped up in her grief, to fight back. Henry had stood and watched. In that moment his happy seven-year-old world had come crashing down. Though she hadn’t practiced magic since her childhood, it was her heritage, and she had never lied about that to Henry. Now he looked at her as a witch, too. A Mills Witch who had cursed his father.

Widowed, heartbroken, and unable to keep up the mortgage on her own, Regina did something she had promised herself she would never do. She and her son moved into Mills Manor. The white manor that stood high up on the hill overlooking Storybrooke had been built, supposedly, by the first Mills Witch and had been in her family ever since.

The night of the funeral, Zelena came back. Regina had known she would, so she’d left the window open. The wind blew through, cold as ice, but just before midnight, she felt a warm body slide into the same bed they had shared their entire childhood. Zelena closed the window behind her. She was older, wiser, wilder, but still her sister. When they needed help, they would always find each other. They were sisters by blood, magic and love. Zelena would always be there for her. She helped Regina through the first incredibly hard month without Daniel. She wasn’t sure she would have survived otherwise.

As quickly as she’d arrived, she left, though. Zelena never stayed in Storybrooke longer than she had to. Henry had pouted and Cora had sighed, but Regina knew she would be back. It was part of their curse, Mills never left Storybrooke for long.

***

#storybits #fanfiction #swan queen

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salarta · 7 years

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X-Men Blue #1 & #2 Thoughts

I’ve decided to start reading X-Men Blue because Polaris is going to be on it in #9. It’s for the same reason I read the Magneto solo and lead-up to Five Miles South of the Universe: I wanted to see how things were going in advance. Stories feed into each other.

In general: what I read was good. To be honest, I don’t think I’d read it if I didn’t know Polaris was going to be in it, but it’s good nonetheless. I intend to continue buying and reading issues.

Slightly deeper thoughts after the read more. Some of them can look intimidating and “bad” cause the text can be long, but I’m just being thorough. Length does not = good or bad.

Blue #1

I like the “about damn time” note for Jean being team leader. It's touches like that, emphasizing how the book intends to take black marks of the past and rectify them, that comes across to me as most promising. It helps to show this isn’t just repeating something decades old; it’s breathing new life into these stories and characters.

Why is Angel flying outside the jet? Does he like to do it? Is he acting as an advance scout? Otherwise it seems like a bad move for him to have to waste energy and attention on the way to a fight.

Cyclops noting old barber shops is a nice nod to history, but it raises questions about how the sliding timeline works. "Modern day” versions of these characters obviously aren’t in their 60s or 70s, so is history condensed in the Marvel universe? It raises questions about Captain America and Magneto’s aging compared to them, and if there’s an answer to this, I don’t think casual fans know what it is. I certainly don’t.

Why is Black Tom Cassidy cosplaying as Old Timey Batman in a Marvel comic?

(ThatsTheJoke.gif)

An old couple mistake Jean Grey for Kitty Pryde and Scarlet Witch. I find this very hard to believe. I understand the Marvel universe is not like the real world, and characters we know may not be known at all to comic book characters. I also understand that adult Jean Grey has been dead for a long time. I still find this hard to believe. I would’ve had an easier time believing they mistook her for Mary Jane Watson or similar characters (assuming MJ is a model in the comics; I don’t know what her deal is). But even if there are no redheads to compare to, I’d think the couple would sooner assume she’s a nobody Z-lister than mistake her for a couple older brunettes.

It gives me shades of “You were expectin’ maybe the Addams family” from the third TMNT film, is what I’m saying.

And to be honest, I suspect those namedrops were ordered from above to try to make X-Men Blue sell comics with the other two in them.

Page 20: And there’s Jean’s butt for some reason.

And final page: Magneto looks too jarringly evil and sinister to me. Yes, I know that’s the point, to emphasize the disparity between the team and their mentor. It’s still too jarring and dark. Rather than draw me into the story, it pulls me out. It makes me spend time thinking of what the creative team is trying to say and their style choices in saying it rather than what they’re actually doing.

Blue #2

Talk about this being mutants’ last chance for survival makes me think of Resurrexion as a last ditch effort to save the X-Men franchise from Marvel trying to kill it like they did Fantastic Four. That could be me reading what I want into it, it’s just how I read it.

Magneto with his silver hair is nice. Last time I saw him, he was bald. I don’t know if this is new since the Magneto solo or new since Uncanny X-Men. Whichever it is, it’s good to see him with hair again.

Page 14 Jean looks like she’s in a manga or anime. Kawaii desu~! Seriously though, it looks nice and the style is fine, it just felt weird cause it doesn’t fit the style elsewhere in the book. I’m used to comic books keeping a consistent style and graphic novels being the format that changes up the art style like that.

Jean talking about Magneto watching her in his mind makes me think of my theories of Polaris using her powers to act as a psychic. Electromagnetism can be used to read minds, transmit messages between minds, potentially implant images, etc.

Page 19: Oh look it’s the Power Rangers! But anyway, someone on Twitter tossed out a theory that the Sentinels could be controlled by Polaris, and that’d be why it greets the X-Men as “fellow mutants.” Noteworthy that the Sentinel saying it is green, and since it’s in text, we don’t know how the voice sounded.

The green electricity of the time device on the last page is something I also find suggestive thanks to Polaris’ green energy signature. The purpose of the machine is stated to be sending the X-Men back in time, but nothing says it couldn’t accidentally pull an X-Men member from the past into the present. It’d make sense if the device met a “hard barrier” at the moment of Mesmero “awakening” Polaris, and yanked old timeline Lorna to the present.

That’s random fan theorizing and musing though. Absolutely anything is possible.

And that’s all my thoughts!

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im-not-a-what · 7 years

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The Witch Doctor on Main Street, Ch. 4

Title: The Witch Doctor on Main Street

Summary: Mr. Gold runs Storybrooke’s herbal shop. He sells remedies that some people consider miraculous, although he’s earned suspicion from florist Moe French and distrust from professionals like Dr. Whale. When Moe’s daughter Belle moves into town, she gets caught up in the rivalries and mysteries surrounding Gold’s line of work. Little do any of them know the true power of Gold’s “magic touch.” But a warlock making herbal medicine may not be the only extraordinary secret hiding in Storybrooke.

Rating: G

Genre: Friendship, drama, modern-day with magic AU

Chapter: Parents and Punishments [1] [2] [3]

Characters/Pairings: Mr. Gold, Neal/Baelfire, Lily, Maleficent

Read on AO3

Note: This chapter gives the Golds’ perspective on what happened that day Belle was visited by Neal and Lily.

There were worst ways for any given day to go, but getting a phone call from the principal at your son’s school with news that said son had assaulted another student certainly belonged on Gold’s list of Things I’d Rather Not Deal With. Yet the first question to leave his lips was, “Did my son have a good reason?”

“Good reason?” Principal Nottingham sputtered, balking at the insanity he deemed present in Gold’s words. “Mr. Gold, we have a zero-tolerance policy for violence at this school!”

“Could you at the very least tell me who else was involved?”

“If you and the parents of the other students wish to set up a conference, I can arrange an appointment.”

“Other students?” Just how many kids did Neal try to fight?

“Yes—Lilith Vincent and August Booth. I suggest waiting until the conference to discuss this matter with their parents. I want to handle this situation as judiciously as possible.”

“Of course,” Gold said. The words churned in the back of his throat.

The growl had its intended effect, if the principal’s “ahem” was any indication. “Y-you can imagine that this behavior warrants suspension, Mr. Gold. You’ll receive a written statement of the facts and my decision on how to proceed within the next few days. The same will be so with the other children.”

“And if I don’t agree with your decision?”

“You have a right to a hearing, of course.” Another clearing of the throat. “This is a serious situation, as I’m sure you understand—”

“I’m coming to pick up my son now,” Gold said as he turned over the pawnshop’s sign to ‘Closed’.

“Yes, yes, please do. Thank you for your time.”

Gold snapped his flip phone shut. He still writhed at the fact that someone decided it was a good idea to put that man in charge of children. He didn’t trust Keith Nottingham’s judgement as far as he could hurl him. Then again, with the right amount of effort, he just might try hurling the principal quite a distance.

Maybe Gold felt responsible for this uncharacteristic aggression in his boy. Not that he was beating people in back alleys with his cane (despite a few fantasies). But while he provided a well sought service in the community, he wasn’t by any stretch popular. Moe French had sympathetic compatriots.

Some had asked, even begged, for more than even Gold could deliver, he whose gift with herbal medicine astounded his clients. Such a gift inspired a little too much hope at times. To other citizens, the mere aura of the shop, old-timey and steeped in esoteric knowledge, hinted that the man wielded a power they could never understand. That notion earned in turns respect and fear. Once, long ago, the shop had a friendlier atmosphere under the care of Rosalind Gold and her partner Olive Meriwether. Even when its current owner first inherited the establishment, their generous spirit carried on within it. Now, light still played on the glass counters, tin tea boxes and porcelain jars, but most of the store lived in a shadow of whispered memories. The ember of kinder times had been reduced to a flicker.

Gold hadn’t noticed the gradual change until he got a call from his ex-wife confirming she was not coming back. What hope this place had promised for the future nearly sputtered out. Gold alternately had avoided it and hidden in its gloom, even from Neal.

His son wore bravery like armor, reflecting the light of the world around him and hiding the scars. But the scars remained, as did a cloud of anger and sadness. The cloud would rear up, an overdue storm, in moods that took and left too suddenly to predict. Gold did notice that it came around most often around Neal’s birthday. Neal seemed increasingly aware, too, since each year he tried harder and harder to distract himself or pretend to be cheerful. It erupted in an outburst, anyway—maybe some shouting, a few cruel words, often followed by silence and isolation. Then he always apologized: “It wasn’t your fault, Pop. I know it wasn’t. I just wish . . .”

Gold never had the right words. He let Neal guide his response, normally a hug or an offer to get him something, anything, he wanted in town. Ice cream, donuts, a bagel with cream cheese—always food for some reason.

An offer of ice cream was probably not the right way to confront one’s son about a school fight. Gold pushed aside the impulse to overthink what to say to Neal, even when he arrived.

School was still in session, though close to dismissal, so most of the halls were empty. He was left to a relatively peaceful walk to the administrative offices. The reception area provided a buffer to the principal’s office so Gold could step inside, loiter near the receptionist’s empty desk and observe the space. It was then he noticed his son, a little bloodied around the nose but otherwise fine. Further in along a wall, parallel to the one on his right but out of the doorway’s line of sight, stood a row of chairs occupied by Neal and two other kids. Lily sat right beside him with a split lip, a bruised chin, and reddened knuckles on her right hand. She just whispered something in his ear. August Booth, tall and freckled, was struck with the fear of God at the sight of Mr. Gold. He buried his gaze in his lap and clasped hands. He had a couple more darkening circles on his face, including a black eye.

Lily saw Gold second to August. She bumped Neal’s shoulder with her own. Neal looked up, then tried to sink his head between his shoulders. Pure shame. Yet he did cut a glare at August before fully embracing chagrin.

Gold started at a calm stride toward his son. Hardly after two steps, a door somewhere on his left swung open.

“Mr. Gold!” Principal Nottingham hurried out of his office. Gold was briefly distracted by how the man tried to pass his greasy, barely combed hair as a legitimate style. The receptionist, Mrs. Loxley, made a furtive getaway from Nottingham’s office back to her desk.

“I’m here for my son.” Gold barely looked at the other man. His gaze and nodded urged Neal to collect his bag and come along as quickly as possible. Neal was inclined to agree, but as he stood, he regarded Lily like a soldier leaving a comrade to face the current skirmish on her own.

“I just want to thank you for coming so promptly.” Nottingham moved in and made a half-realized motion to shake Gold’s hand. One deadpan glance from Gold stopped him and sent his hand into retreat. Still, he kept talking. “I understand that this looks rather ugly, but we will handle this matter delicately.”

“We?” Gold asked.

“Well, the school board will be informed, of course. I-I can’t help that. There’s also the matter of your son’s permanent record—”

“Mr. Nottingham,” Gold said at a gentle volume, “I suggest you hold your tongue until we conduct our official meeting. I intend to seek legal counsel if it comes to that. Now, as I wish to waste as little of your time as possible, we’ll be leaving.”

By now, Nottingham had put a five-foot berth between himself and Gold. He nodded while trying to smile. “Yes, of course. I just---uh, well—”

“If you have something to say,” declared a woman’s voice behind Gold, “you might as well spit it out.”

Oh, brother. Gold barely held back an eyeroll before turning around.

Magdalene Vincent, sharply dressed and sharply tongued, swept into the reception area. She came to an ominous halt beside Gold, which he accepted since she became a filter for the unctuous presence of Nottingham.

“No, no, Ms. Vincent,” Nottingham sputtered. “I understand that you and Mr. Gold are very busy. And for your children’s sake, it’s best that we hold off further discussion of the matter for a better time.”

“I want an account of the incident,” Magdalene said, “here and now.”

Lily mimicked Neal’s turtlish pose.

Nottingham tugged at his tie. “Uh, well—”

“Not out here.” She sounded weary already. “In your office.”

Gold had to admit to admiration that she didn’t add “idiot” at the end of the sentence. What he didn’t like was how she faced him and, with a conspiring nod, roped him into an uncomfortable session with the already perspiring principal. He would’ve preferred taking Neal home and dealing with the technicalities later. But Nottingham might use the grace period to craft a damning case against Neal if he wished. Magdalene wasn’t taking that chance, and maybe Gold ought not to, either.

With an apologetic look and instructions that Neal and Lily sit tight, Gold followed Magdalene and Nottingham into the office.

Twenty minutes later, they emerged with a story that, quite frankly, didn’t do much to change Gold’s feelings about the situation. Under the force of Magdalene’s pointed questions, Nottingham conceded that Lily had been harassed first by August, although various accounts from the trio as well as witnesses didn’t completely agree on who started the physical fight and why. Lily didn’t seek a teacher for aid, so in Nottingham’s eyes, that made her partly culpable for what happened—Magdalene’s glower not withstanding. As for Neal, he interceded on Lily’s part, first to pull her out of the fight with August, then to fight August in her place. All this had occurred during lunch period, so plenty of students and a handful of teachers on lunch duty could paint a panorama of the event sequence. Lily and August started the fight; Neal finished it with August on the ground.

When the two parents and principal exited their private conference, Marco Booth was standing and waiting with his son at his side. Marco became awash with distress seeing two of Storybrooke’s most intimidating residents already in talks with the principal. To Gold and Magdalene’s surprise, though, Marco prompted August to apologize to them and Mr. Nottingham for fighting with Neal and Lily. The boy begrudgingly did. Gold wondered if Marco was aware that a simple apology wouldn’t let August off the hook for suspension. The old carpenter had a sincere air bordering on naivete. He did what he could to raise his son with a moral backbone, but maybe August took advantage of his old man’s goodwill. He did look chided, if only for his father’s sake.

Once the parents collected their children, Marco lingered to get clarification on a few details about the fight from Nottingham. The Golds and Vincents gladly left the Booths behind. Gold caught Neal meeting eyes with Mrs. Loxley, who returned his gaze in sympathy.

“We need to talk,” Magdalene said as they approached their cars, only a couple parking spaces apart.

“Can’t it wait?” Gold said.

“It’s in both our best interests.”

Neal slowed down as he neared the Cadillac Deville. Lily rested a hand on the passenger door handle of the Chevrolet Bel-Air while watching the adults. Gold checked on his son, feeling the scrutiny, before he replied to Magdalene. “If we do this, it’ll be at my shop.”

“That’s your idea of neutral territory?”

“It’s a place of business, open to anyone who cares to peruse it, but I can guarantee privacy.”

Magdalene looked hardly eased by his reasoning. Yet, after a glimpse at Lily, she nodded.

That was how Mr. Gold and Ms. Vincent ended up talking in the herbal shop’s backroom while the children were told to wait outside. By the time they arrived, Gold warmed up to the upcoming conversation. Suppose Nottingham had the gall to suspend Neal for standing up for a friend, as the boy himself confirmed during the car ride. August, while not exactly a friend, was a tolerable classmate when he wasn’t tagging along with kids who wasted every hour they could spare sneaking in a smoke behind the school or causing some vandalism in the way of graffiti or overturned trash and recycling bins. Lately he’d gotten into some gambling, or his “friends” often bullied him out of money. Today he came up to Lily, first pretending to be nice, even a little flirty, which Lily shot down. He switched to pressing her about his desperate situation—he owed fifty dollars to a kid named Lambert.

Now, Lily didn’t have the cleanest nose herself; she’d fallen in with similar kids who encouraged her to skip classes and stay out late. Lambert was someone she’d known and then made a point to avoid. The last thing she wanted was to give him her money.

Pleas and refusals turned to exchanged insults. August let some thoughtless barb fly that hit Lily on the worst nerve. The next moment her fist connected with his face. So, yes, Lily had thrown the first punch, but he’d clearly crossed a line! And then August retaliated by shoving Lily. She toppled into a lunch table, her face impacting on its edge. He didn’t even get a breath to insult her again or blurt out an apology before another attack from Lily. Neal was heading back from the bathroom when he ran into a gathering crowd of spectators. By then, Lily was on top of August, wailing on him.

As soon as he pushed through to the other side of the throng, Neal grabbed and hauled her away. He didn’t know about the table, so seeing her already reddening eye and jaw set him off to confront August. Despite some solid punches to his chest, August got back to his feet with only a few hearty coughs. Neal made the mistake of shoving him as the freckled boy stepped toward them. Adrenaline in flux and pride on the line, August didn’t give a thought to taking a swing at Neal. Both boys were soon grabbling, punching and pushing each other. The cheering students acted as a barrier to the two female teachers on duty. One of them retrieved Mr. Dunbroch, the gym teacher. While he had a prosthetic leg, he put every weight-lifting man in town to shame. His shouts were enough to bisect the crowd. His big hands grabbed the boys by their hair so they’d be in too much pain to keep fighting. As soon as it was clear he’d just landed himself in hot water, August weaseled out Lily as the instigator.

Gold made it clear to Neal that he shouldn’t have let the fight go on by pushing August. That said, he understood Neal’s indignity from seeing his best friend hurt. What he didn’t tell Neal was his deep displeasure at Lily’s behavior. Yes, it was irritating to be hit up for money, and perhaps August’s remark, whatever it was, deserved a thrashing. But by letting her temper overrule what good sense she had, she dragged Neal into trouble with her. That was not the sort of friend his son needed.

The teens agreed to wait outside the shop’s backdoor—they each had their tablets and phones to occupy them. Thank goodness for distracting technology. Relatively confident that their busy fingers would stick to the pulse of social media and keep their ears away from the chatter inside, Gold escort Magdalene into the backroom.

The two parents were swallowed by the soothing aromas of flowers, herbs, salts and oils coming from the raw materials of his products. The main worktable had a standing army of bottles, jars and bowls. Gold felt a little self-conscious about the mess. It was his work area, so he didn’t need to keep it organized for anyone but himself. Everything else in his life—his house, his showroom in the front, his finances, his wardrobe—were all kept in immaculate order. He never let Neal leave a shirt or even a sock lying around: either it went in the hamper or he never saw it again. He’d drawn the line at cleaning Neal’s room. Neal could arrange his belongings in some manner of manageable chaos. Creative spaces were given exception. Gold’s workroom was one such space—his potions den. His laboratory. A system existed, to be sure, so he could access this jar of ginkgo leaves and this box of goldenseal root, but once they were on the table, it became a collage of concoctions simultaneously in the process of creation.

All past this he led Magdalene toward the room’s front end, right behind the curtain to the show room. She’d caught glimpses of his handiwork before. It still felt exposing. A few comfortable chairs, upholstered in velvet, were summoned from a corner. On a nearby counter resided a portable stove, the barest equipment for making tea and frying up a meal if he couldn’t slip over to Granny’s diner or prepare something ahead of time at home. Gold rarely cared to leave unless urgency pressed him.

“This places smells like a garden collided with a soap factory.” Magdalene wrinkled her nose.

Leave it to a woman who comes into regular contact with furnaces, diesel fuel and heating oil to find the scent of gardens and soaps unpleasant. “Maybe one of my teas will improve the smell.” Gold went over to a counter where a kettle rested beside a portable stove. He filled the kettle with water from a sink and set it on the burner to boil. He then nestled himself in the chair and set his cane against one of the armrests. “I should’ve expected this day to come.”

Magdalene planted both feet on the floor while leaning back in her seat. She didn’t care to cross her legs when there was business at hand. “Is this in regards to your son’s cavalier behavior?”

“Cavalier? Neal might well have saved your daughter from more unpleasant consequences. I think I’m more in the right to be worried.”

“How do you reason that?”

“Your daughter was the first aggressor. Neal acted only after she put herself in harm’s way. That temper of hers—”

“You know how it is for her! I couldn’t have been clearer about it.”

Gold allowed Magdalene a moment to cool. While her pale blonde hair, fair skin and gray-blue eyes suggested the temperament of an ice queen, she was anything but. The cracks in her restraint showed through the tendons of her neck, in the harsh line her red mouth drew across her face like a bloody wound. She had years of practiced self-control behind her, but Gold knew better than to push her limits. He was sensible about these things. He had to be.

“I must make my son’s safety my priority,” he said once the tension in her face laxed. “You must understand that.”

“You bound yourself to a contract,” she replied.

“Not at the expense of my son’s welfare.”

“And what of Lily’s welfare?” Anger dissolved into no less troubling sorrow. Her sharp eyes bowed to the floor, not out of deference but from something that lingered in her thoughts much closer to home. Gold linked his fingers together and waited, patient as always.

Magdalene led with a sigh. “Lily has been asking about her father. More than usual.”

Gold’s head slowly bent down.

“There’s only so much I can say. I’m running out of excuses, and now she’s . . . she’s channeling her frustration into other outlets.”

“Teenage rebellion,” Gold reminded her.

“It goes beyond that. If it comes to it, I will track down her father. But you can imagine the complications involved. It could take a while, if it’s even possible. As for Lily, I need your guarantee that whatever happens, you will do as you promised.”

Gold dragged in air through his slender nose. It was hard not to bristle at what could’ve been a veiled threat. “Is this your way of demanding my special services? I could prescribe some remedies—”

“No. My daughter doesn’t need to be medicated.”

“There’s no shame in a little help to keep her nature under control.”

“Rupert.”

Gold stiffened. An extra vibrato registered an octave below Magdalene’s natural voice. In a moment he recovered, tilted his head, and assumed a disapproving tone. “I meant no offense, Magda. No need to make it personal.”

She huffed with a duchess’ primness. “Sometimes I think you and your kind like to forget who has the real power, regardless of the adjustments we’ve all had to make.”

“True. We all must adapt. I recognize that it’s harder for some. As I said, my services are available if you wish to make use of them. I’m not sure how else I’m supposed to aid your daughter.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to step beyond the usual bounds.” She was annoyed by this parrying, so she moved on to what she presented as a compromise. “Your son has been, dare I say it, a positive influence on her. I don’t want her thinking she should depend on a man for protection, but he’s provided her companionship over the years. I understand why today’s events would prompt you to put an end to their friendship. If nothing else, allow Lily to have it.”

Gold pulled a half-frown. He was discouraged from his previous plan simply by the imagined scene of him telling Neal to stay away from Lily. “I doubt I could stop it if I wanted to. But I hold Lily accountable for today, regardless what he says. If she wants to get into fights, she’ll do so alone.”

His declaration went unanswered for a short while. Magdalene turned over her thoughts while her eyes drifted over the backroom. Gold took this moment to check on the steaming kettle. The water was hot enough to pour into a teapot and leave a couple of teabags to steep. When he returned to his chair, her attention wandered back to him.

“At one time, I would’ve encouraged Lily to fight her own battles. I still support it in the long-term. But, right now, she’s just a child. I’d rather do the fighting for her. So please appreciate what I’m asking. It’s not easy to do.”

His acknowledgement came as a nod. Magdalene wore her pride well. As a young woman from a humble upbringing, her start in the heating business was far from glamorous. It suited her, though, the hard work. When the money rolled in, her business expanded with employees who did the bulk of the labor, but she still had the most experience and could be depended on for a sound assessment of repairs and installations she was brought in to oversee. She wore the gray business suit like a second skin. She also continued inspecting the wares of her trade, hands-on, traces of ash and oil inescapable. That was the pride of self-dependence. She wanted that trait to pass on to Lily. So yes, he could understand how this must have felt to a formidable creature, rolling over on its back and presenting its vulnerable side at the mercy of another.

Gold rubbed his thumb and forefinger on the head of the right armrest. “I don’t suppose you’re asking me to play a . . . a sort of surrogate father to Lily.”

Her scoff came with an arched eyebrow. “Let’s not give her the wrong idea. You needn’t be any friendlier—I know the toll it would take on you. Just watch over her. Give her guidance if she seeks it. If there’s a standing credit as a result, I’ll be the one to pay it.”

“I charge consultant fees only by appointment.” His cheeky smile only widened under the force of her askance glower. He got up to fetch the tea before Magdalene answered.

After clearing a place on the work table, he set down the tea tray loaded with quaint blue-and-white china. Magdalene wisely waited in her chair until everything was assembled. Gold filled their cups with pleasantly bitter English Breakfast, and they sipped while discussing the logistics of Nottingham’s account of the fight and how it matched with Neal’s and Lily’s versions. Their children’s stories corroborated each other, which might have been a testament to their aptitude for conspiracy, but Gold and Magdalene felt it bolstered a defense against suspension. The trickiest points of contention lay in two facts: Lily threw the first punch, and Neal pushed August after he broke up the first fight, thereby initiating a second fight. Their parents had no misgivings or doubts about arguing provocation and self-defense, respectively. As the hands on the clock mounted next to the archway marked the passing of the hour, they built a case were Nottingham to hand out suspension notices.

A tingle of warning at the back of his neck begged Gold to pardon himself from the conversation and peer outside the back door. Neal and Lily were nowhere in sight.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Magdalene said while pulling out her phone. A couple calls to Lily’s cell garnered no response.

Gold tried the same method with Neal’s phone. Same outcome. In hopes that the children had only just wandered up and down Main Street to assuage their boredom, Gold and Magdalene exited by the store front, just in time to see the new librarian walking their Neal and Lily back to them. The sight and the exchange that followed blindsided Gold. Magdalene was not much less startled, though she conveyed it through silent intimidation. For him, he couldn’t even muster a reason to be annoyed at Belle French. He was the one who had tried soliciting a payment from her father not a week ago. It was odd, though, (and therefore dubious) that Belle saw it as her business to escort them to their folks after an hour of presumably watching them. Perhaps this was her idea of becoming part of the community, regardless the fact that “librarian” didn’t equate to babysitter or youth counselor.

“She was just being nice, Dad,” Neal fired off, though only after Magdalene and Lily left. “It’s not like she’s trying to get another favor out of you. Why do you always assume that about people?”

“It may seem unreasonable to you, but I’ve learned that trust must be earned.”

“And what’s she done to make you distrust her?”

“Nothing. I barely know her.”

“Then why did you offer her a job?”

Gold was putting the tea set away, the pot’s contents transferred into a thermos and stored in a minifridge under the counter, when Neal’s words stopped him short. “How do you know that?”

“I didn’t,” Neal said, hands in his pockets. “But I know how you are about magic. I’d hoped you hadn’t visited her to make her return the favor. Guess I was wrong.”

“Neal, I didn’t demand anything.” The pang of disappointment in himself—in how well his son knew him—tightened his throat for a few seconds. “Belle said she was open to the idea of working in the shop.”

Neal’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh. Well, if it’s her idea, then you should hire her. Then you’ll find out who she really is.”

“And you won’t have to help out as much.” Some of Gold’s smile returned.

Neal didn’t try to argue.

For the rest of the afternoon, Gold resumed managing the store, now open and receiving the usual trickle of clientele. Leroy, a hardy janitor, crept in for bi-monthly jar of iron-supplement tablets and a bottle of joint pain relief cream, accompanied by the side-eye that reminded Gold to keep his health issues secret. Other customers gravitated to the displays of thread, yarn, knitting and crochet needles, and the scarves and socks one could create with deceptively simple tools. Anton Bean was among them, the rotund giant of a man who oversaw the town’s community garden. Abigail and Frederick Knight stopped by to pick out new scented candles, completely organic and designed for aromatherapy. Marco hadn’t been by yet to purchase another bottle of wood finish, also organic and, by his own admission, more effective and less odorous than the commercial brands. His best friend, Dr. Hopper, did come in to ask about Gold’s pet products. Pongo was suffering from a gum infection. Gold had a limited selection of remedies for animals, but he easily pulled a bag of dog biscuits off the shelf and instructed the therapist on how and when to administer the homemade treats. If the infection didn’t clear up in a week, Hopper should come back and put in an order for a special formula.

In the meantime, Neal completed his homework in the backroom. Gold checked in every so often to ensure homework was indeed getting finished. He even looked over whatever worksheets Neal’s teachers had assigned. While not particularly versed in information technology, Gold assumed that Neal snuck in breaks to check social media or play a game on his phone. He allowed it so long as homework was in progress, too.

Both of them were done with work by seven o’clock. Gold closed the store for a second time and drove home with Neal. Halfway to their salmon-pink Victorian house, Neal breached a topic Gold had expected him to avoid like a contagion.

“Um, Dad? I’ve been thinking . . . maybe I should apologize to August and his dad next time I see them.”

Gold frowned. “What? Why?”

“It seems like the right thing to do. Should I apologize to Mr. Nottingham, too?”

“No,” Gold declared. “You need to avoid suspension. Let’s not do anything to compromise that.”

“I get that. But apologizing would be the right thing to do, right?”

“You said yourself you were helping Lily. Now it sounds as though you believe you were wrong.”

“It’s not like that, exactly.” Neal blinked hard and wiggled his nose. No doubt it was still sore. “August was being an a—a jerk. But I could’ve handled it differently. I could’ve yelled at him or something. Or gotten Lily away and reported to a teacher. That’s what Mr. Nottingham said I should’ve done. Maybe he was right.”

The corner of Gold’s mouth twitched down. “Neal, I won’t get into a long-winded explanation, but I’ve known Keith Nottingham for years. I don’t know why anyone thought he should be your principal. I’m not saying you shouldn’t trust most people in charge, but I will tell you that Nottingham has his own, personal reasons for punishing students for fights. He’s not interested in right and wrong.”

Neal watched his father for a silent minute. Their house came into view when he spoke. “Wow. You realize most parents would tell their kids to not think badly of other adults, right?”

“Other parents might have to worry about their children using any excuse to act out. I don’t have to worry about that with you.” Gold glanced at Neal, his look both pointed and playful. “Right?”

“No, Dad. I’m gonna organize a school-wide riot to get Mr. Nottingham to resign.” The boy was remarkably gifted at deadpan. At the end, however, a half-smile broke through his dry delivery.

Gold didn’t hold back his own grin. It faltered as he thought about his son’s previous worries. “You still want to apologize to the Booths?”

Neal nodded. “Mr. Booth looked so upset when he came in. August told him Lily punched him first. His dad looked at her, pretty angry, but he asked why she did it. Lily didn’t want to say, so I told him that August had insulted her. He went from being mad at Lily to being mad at August. And he could see that Lily had bruises, though not as bad as August’s. He told August he’d raised him better than to hurt people. He made him apologize to us. And—I don’t know. I could tell Mr. Booth was disappointed in us, too, but he wasn’t going to scold us. I don’t think August was all that sorry for what he did. He didn’t want to let his dad down, though. As much of a jerk as he can be, he loves his dad. And it got me thinking: I gotta be at least as decent as August. I mean, wouldn’t apologizing by my own choice make me the bigger person?”

Gold sighed. The whole “bigger person” argument was overrated in his estimation. There were plenty of circumstances where protecting yourself and your loved ones was more important than being especially noble.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. He steered the car into the driveway.

“Great. Thanks for the moral support, Pop.”

Gold cut the engine and turned to his son. “I won’t pretend I’m the expert when it comes to what the noble thing to do is. But I know this: there are people in this world who will take advantage of your good nature, Neal. Marco Booth isn’t one of them; Mr. Nottingham is. But that’s neither here nor there. The point is that you have to be careful and not let anyone twist your generous gestures against you. If you apology to someone who hurt you or someone you love, simply because you hurt them back in retaliation, they will take that to mean they can hold your guilt over you like a Sword of Damocles.”

“Sword of what?”

“I mean like—like a guillotine, always hanging over your head.”

“Oh.” Neal’s mouth pursed into a frown. “Yeah, that sucks.”

“Indeed. I don’t want you going through life like that. You have to stand up for yourself, even if that means throwing a punch.”

“I’m pretty sure this is not the conversation Mr. Nottingham is expecting us to have. But I get what you’re saying.”

“Don’t worry about what Nottingham thinks.”

“Okay. But I care if it was right or not. I am sorry—but not completely sorry.”

Gold chuckled. “Let’s leave it at that, then.”

“Really? You’re not gonna punish me?”

Maybe he should. There wasn’t some parental committee that could come in and condemn him for not grounding his son for a school fight. But that did sound like the responsible course of action. Gold leaned into his seat and stared ahead in thought. No Internet? No, that was next to impossible with Neal’s laptop and phone. Gold himself depended on Neal having a phone as a means to stay in touch. Sure, parents had managed parenting without this technology since humanity’s first days, but boy was it convenient. Even if Gold wanted to try it, Neal would find ways around it. Friends’ phones, computers at school, just to name a few alternatives. A more effective and manageable punishment would be to enforce added chores rather than take away privileges.

An epiphany came, and with it a smug expression. “Janitorial duties,” Gold said. “For the next week, I’ll pick you up from school. We’ll go directly to the shop. You’ll dust, sweep and mop the entire place. Then you’ll complete your homework. After I close up, we’ll go directly home. No going out with friends, no friends coming over.”

“Oh, come on!” Neal’s pleading look couldn’t undermine his father’s resolution. His grumbles were taken as a sign that Gold had chosen a satisfactory penalty. Even so, mild displeasure niggled at him.

“Hey,” Gold said, “let’s get some ice cream.”

Neal picked up his head off the headrest, despair discarded. “You serious?”

“My sweet tooth is calling. You on board?”

While no more ready to process this turnabout, Neal said, as though defeated, “Yeah, sure.”

Gold gave a kinder smile as he switched the engine back on.

#ouat fic #papafire #rumplestiltskin #baelfire #neal cassidy #the witch doctor on main street

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