#the evil men with curly hair have won again
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a place with you; luke castellan
wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)
pairing: luke castellan x f! reader
synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.
warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker
Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.
So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.
When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.
“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.
“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”
You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.
Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.
So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.
Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.
Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?
This time, though, he’s a little worried.
It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.
It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.
There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.
You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.
“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”
You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”
It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”
The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.
Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”
“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”
You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”
He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”
“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”
“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”
“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”
You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”
It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.
Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”
“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.
His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”
I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.
“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”
It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”
He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”
Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”
Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.
Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.
Until you’re claimed.
Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.
He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.
Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.
You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.
But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?
After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.
“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.
You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”
Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.
You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”
When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”
There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.
He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.
“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.
You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”
“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”
It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”
He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”
You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”
There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”
Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”
He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”
His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”
He turns back to you. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.
“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”
Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”
His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”
It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”
There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”
You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.
He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.
“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”
“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.
He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”
Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.
But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.
#perrie’s fics#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#pjo#pjo series#pjo x reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan fluff#heroes of olympus#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#charlie bushnell#this is far longer than i wanted it to be so sorry.#don’t usually write in 2nd person or present tense so i’m just trying not to look at it#the evil men with curly hair have won again
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Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better
Pairing: Stanley Uris x OC (female)
Warnings: cursing
Summary: Quinn had spent her whole life protecting other women from the dangers of men. When she met Stanley, she thought he was just like every other boy she had come across, sex craved and egotistical. Although one of those was correct, that didn’t stop the feelings she felt towards him form.
A/N: this is my first fanfic i’ve posted on here and i honestly feel like a mom on snapchat. if you like it please let me know and i might continue writing things like these in the future! (i’m really sorry if this sucks)
Even though Quinn Macey had moved to Derry less than three months ago, that didn't stop her from making tons of friends. They loved her outgoing and sarcastic personality and the fact that she didn't take shit from anyone. She wouldn't constantly stick up for them at school and in town if there was a guy trying desperately to get into their pants. She was often nicknamed spitfire or hot head or a string of other names, drawing inspiration from her short temper and red hair.
It was no secret that in the three short months she'd lived in Derry, she gained a string of female friends partly because she refused to talk to any of the boys at school or on town. It was her own personal grudge that she held against every living male. They didn't cause anything but trouble in her opinion and the only thing on their mind was sex.
Because of her refusal of boys, many of them and even a few girls had coined her as lesbian, not that she minded. She dressed girly enough, but when she wanted to she could get down and dirty, playing a variety of sports. In her old town, she played on a softball team that won a few state-wide games. She had also dabbled in football and soccer. Though soccer wasn't her favorite, she played it anyway.
When she moved to Derry, she had to quit her team and say goodbye to her friends, which she probably won't hear of again. Starting at the end of the school year might have been hard for anyone else opposite of Quinn. She decided to start out nice, warming up to everyone but when a few guys tried hitting on her, she quickly put her in their place and made it clear she wasn't interested. They had bugged her over and over. If it was just some one time thing she might have looked passed it but since they kept on pestering her, she had to take matters into her own hands.
The last day of school was nearing an end and Quinn found herself eyeing the clock. Her reasoning behind staring at the gadget was nothing more than "maybe if I stare hard enough it'll tick faster." It obviously didn't get the memo, and continued ticking at its agonizingly slow pace.
Maybe it was the sun shining from outside through the classroom window onto her skin, or the fact that she couldn't wait to get out of the retched classroom and was bouncing her leg up and down so much that she had broken out into a small sweat but one thing was certain: today had to be the hottest day of the year.
Quinn thought of the regret she had for wearing jeans and had her hair down while she fanned herself off with her right hand. She had already tied her shirt up as high as the school would allow but it didn't help because of the broken AC system in the class she was in. She looked outside, seeing the seniors leave school early, being dismissed by the teachers because they were upperclassmen and did the calculations in her head. If the seniors already walked out, they must have been released by the teachers, like everyday, five minutes before school let out. Quinn started counting down from 300 in her head.
297, 296, 295.
She couldn't focus on whatever the teacher was saying. The small heat stroke she was having didn't help with focusing either.
230, 229, 228.
She leaned her head back, fanning her neck and wrists. Her once ice filled water bottle became a lake of boiling lava in her metal cup.
134, 133, 132.
Quinn wondered if she had gotten to the halfway mark or already passed it while she was counting. She didn't think she could take one more minute of being without air. Black spots clouded her vision and she lied her head against the window.
97, 96, 95.
She was getting so close. Less than a hundred seconds to go until she could escape the body heat filled room and into the hot summer air. At least she would feel something other than hot.
Quinn was two seconds away from ripping her shirt off and using it as a noose when the bell rang. She sprung up as fast as she could and bolted out of the door. One of her friends, Savannah, walked by her and Quinn grabbed her arm.
"I'm dying," she said in between pants.
Savannah raised an eyebrow at the dramatic girl in front of her. "You good?"
"Do I look good?" Quinn retorted. "I am the definition of lava. If you look it up in the dictionary you'll see a picture of me melting."
"I take it you're hot?"
"How are you not? It's literally two hundred degrees out!"
Savannah rolled her eyes and closed her locker. Ah head just cleaned everything out and placed it all into her book bag. With an amused smile, she looked down at Quinn who had her head against the tall blue lockers. "Wanna go swimming?"
The words sparked energy into Quinn's body. Suddenly, she didn't realize that she had drops of sweat rolling down her face or the bottom of her hair had stuck to her neck. All she cared about was the cool release of hitting the cool body of water and cooling off.
At the mention of swimming, Savannah watched Quinn's eyes widen and laughed. "I'm guessing that's a yes?"
"That's a hell yes!"
Quinn and Savannah hopped out of Savannah's car and Quinn had never undressed herself so fast in her entire life. She stripped down to her underwear and immediately ran and jumped off the cliff that towered over the river. Savannah looked over the edge, worried when her friend didn't pop back up but let out a sigh of relief when Quinn's head poked its familiar red hair out of the water.
"Come in it feels so nice!" She yelled up at the brunette looking over the rocks.
"I don't know, Q. It's pretty high up."
"Just jump! It'll be over in an instant!"
Savannah shook her head and backed away from the edge. "I can't do it."
Quinn rolled her eyes and swam to land. She crawled out of the water and hiked back up to where Savannah was standing. Her wet body weighed her down but the second she rang her hair out it felt as if she lost five pounds.
"Here," Quinn grabbed Savannah's hand. "I'll jump with you."
"Quinn," the brunette whined.
"Don't whine, you baby. It's just a few feet."
"A few feet?" Savannah yelled with wide eyes. "Girl, that is at least three hundred feet."
"Maybe, but once you jump you'll realize it's not that high at all."
"Yeah, but I'm not jumping."
Quinn groaned. "Sav, I'm gonna day this in the nicest way possible: stop being such a pussy and jump."
Savannah frowned. "That was you being nice?"
Quinn shrugged and cornered Savannah where she was back to the edge. "You're either gonna hump or I'm gonna push you. You're choice."
"Quinn," Savannah warned. "You better back up." The ginger smirked and an evil glint shone across her eyes.
If it weren't for a group of teenage boys pulling up on their bikes behind them, Savannah would've been done for. The girls' head snapped around to see who had joined them. There were four boys, obviously outnumbering them and probably had the same idea they had after school let out. They threw their bikes to the ground and some removed their shoes while the other removed their shirts, obviously not noticing the two girls half naked in front of them.
Stanley turned his head to the direction of the cliff, sprinting over to it but stopped when he saw the girls. "Um, what're you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Quinn said with a little more attitude than she meant.
"Well, obviously we're gonna swim. So, why don't you too head home and play with some Barbies or whatever."
Quinn scoffed and Savannah sighed, knowing what her friend would do in this situated. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Stanley rolled his eyes. "Get lost."
"I'm sorry, who was here first?"
By now, the rest of the boys came over to their friend, backing him up against the girls or one girl in particular. "We come here every summer so it's our hangout," Richie said.
"Oh, sorry. Well just be on our way then."
Stanley crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows when she didn't move.
"What, you thought I was serious?" Quinn bitterly laugh. "I knew boys were dumb, but I didn't think they were that dumb."
"W-We're not d-dumb!" Bill replied.
"Well?" Stanley said.
"Well what?"
"Leave already!"
Quinn put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "No. We were clearly here first. Doesn't matter if you guys come here every summer or not."
"You must be new around here cause this is our space," Richie spike.
"And so what if I am? I don't see your name on this cliff."
Stanley glared at the girl in front of him. "Who do you think you are?"
"Quinn Macey." She smiled almost taunting him to keep bugging her, which he gladly did.
"Well, Quinn Macey, why don't you and your friend head home before you get yourself jumping off this cliff."
Quinn grabbed Savannah's hand protectively. "Her name is Savannah and I've already jumped it. But you pretty boys are probably too chicken to jump aren't you?"
Stanley scoffed and walked forward, making the friends behind him walk forward too. "You think we can't jump it?"
"Nah I don't think that's it. Maybe it's the fact that you're just threatened by two girls who rightfully deserve to stay at your precious little river."
Stanley laughed. "You think we're threatened by you? A spoiled brat that can't stand not getting what she wants?"
"You little-" Before Quinn could get close to Stanley, Savannah held her back by her arms. Quinn obviously struggled against Savannah's grip but the brunette wasn't looking for a fight, she just wanted to swim.
"Stan, maybe we could just share it," Eddie whispered to the curly headed boy in front of him. He also wasn't looking for a fight and wanted to remain peaceful, knowing Stan was too stubborn to give up and Quinn probably was the same.
"Share? Ed, have you gone crazy? Why would we share the river with some random girls?"
"Well, I don't really wanna fight over it and it seems like the best option. We both get what we want," Eddie shrugged.
"I-I'm fine w-with sharing," said Bill.
"Not you too," Stan sighed and looked at Richie. "Rich, tell them sharing's not an option."
Richie looked away from Stanley, kickoff the dirt underneath him. "I mean, all I want to do is swim. I guess it wouldn't matter if there are chicks in the water or not."
Stanley groaned. "Fine."
"So you guys are leaving?" Quinn asked, crossing her arms.
"No, we're gonna share," Eddie explained. "That way we both can swim."
Quinn raised an eyebrow. "No way. There's no way-"
Savannah cut Quinn off. "We'll take it!" At the ginger's gaze she shrugged. "What? I want to swim."
"Good." With that the boys finished taking off their clothes, leaving them in only underwear.
"So, are we swimming with strangers or..." Savannah trailed off.
"That's Bill, Eddie, and Stanley," Richie introduced, "and I'm Richie."
"Savannah and Quinn," the brunette formally introduced.
Stanley and Quinn kept glaring at each other during the introductions as if the first person to look away would lose their little mind game between just the two of them. During this time, Eddie, Bill, and Richie had already jumped from the cliff. Quinn obviously had no intention of moving her gaze until Savannah grabbed her arm. She cursed herself when her head turned to meet Savannah's gaze. Stanley held a satisfying smirk on his face because he had won their staring contest.
"Q, I'm just gonna take the long way down."
Quinn frowned. "No jumping?"
"You know I'm terrified of heights."
"Fine. I'll be down in a minute."
Savannah walked away leaving Quinn alone with Stanley. Stan walked up next to her and got into position for a running start. Quinn followed his actions, giving him a challenging smirk. Stanley narrowed his eyes and shifted his gaze ahead. They took off at the same time, another wordless challenge adapted to see who could jump the farthest.
Quinn thought for sure she jumped farthest and swam back up to the surface with a satisfying smile on her face. That was until she saw Stanley pop his head up and flip the hair out of his eyes. He was just a few feet in front of her and a frown formed on her face when she saw the teasing glint in his eyes as if he was dying to annoy her by saying he had gotten farther than her.
With a huff, Quinn swam over to where Savannah had gotten in at and began chatting with her, occasionally swimming further out to get away from the boys.
Stan tried his best hiding the looks he gave Quinn from afar but the boys had caught on since he wasn't that good at hiding. Richie splashed Stan's face to stop him from staring.
Stanley wiped his face and glared at Richie. "What was that for?"
Richie smirked. "You were staring."
"Was not."
"We're to."
Eddie joined in. "It was kind of obvious that you were staring, Stan."
"Stan l-likes Q-Quinn," Bill teased.
Stanley splashed Bill in the face to shut him up. "No I don't. I'm just annoyed that they're here."
"I'm not," said Eddie. He turned to the girls that were a little further out than they were. "Hey, guys!"
Their heads turned to the voice shouting at them. Stan's eyes went wide as he hit Eddie in the arm. "What are you doing?" He whispered.
Eddie shrugged. "Inviting them over for a game." He turned to the girls that started swimming over, led by Savannah. "Wanna chicken fight?"
"How do you play?" Savannah asked. The boys stood on the shallower end so when the girls came up, the water was up to their chests. Quinn stood behind Savannah with her arms crossed, not particularly wanting to be around Stanley.
"One person gets on another person's shoulders and fights the other team. The first first to knock the other off, wins," Eddie explained.
"Okay, who's gonna get on who?" Quinn questioned.
"We'll switch it up so it doesn't really matter right now."
"Okay, Savannah. Hop on." Quinn went under water and let Savannah climb on top of her shoulders. When she was on, Quinn went back above water and grabbed onto Savannah's thighs so that she wouldn't go anywhere.
"How the hell did you-" Richie started but was interrupted by Quinn.
"Sav's a twig. She weighs, like, two pounds."
Richie got on Bill's shoulders while Eddie and Stanley watched. Richie and Savannah grasped hands and started fighting. Bill and Quinn navigated to help better their team's chances at winning by moving from side to side or forwards and backwards. It was a tough fight, but eventually Richie was the victor. Richie yelled how proud he was and Bill shook him off his shoulders.
"Who's next bitches?" Richie asked, ready for another round.
"I wanna go," Quinn announced. Savannah seemed to have a lot of fun and it would be extremely satisfying to knock one of the boys off. "Sav?"
Savannah's eyes widened. "Um, no offense, but I'm not as strong as you."
Quinn playfully glared at her. "Are you calling me fat?"
"Don't worry, Quinn. Stan's pretty strong, he'll be able to hold you," Richie winked.
"I'm not fat!"
"Alright, Eddie get your ass over here so I can get on your shoulders. Quinn you get on Stan's shoulders," Richie instructed. Stan and Quinn's eyes widened at the boy's words.
"No way!" They yelled in unison.
"Everyone else has gone. Stop being losers so we can play the game."
"Fine," Stanley huffed and went under water so Quinn would have an easier time of getting on. After a few seconds, he still didn't feel her weight on his shoulders and popped back up. "You just gonna let me drown?"
"That was the plan," Quinn admitted with a smirk on her face.
"Will you just get on, brat?"
"Don't get your panties in a twist." Stanley dipped back under water and Quinn crossword over his shoulders. He came back up and placed his hands a little too high up for Quinn's comfort. She smacked them away but the second she started falling back tugged on Stan's hair. His neck got hot and the tips of his ears went red. "Got a thing for hair pulling, pretty boy?"
"I won't hesitate to let go," Stanley warned.
The truth of the matter was that Stanley was beet red. Only Eddie and Richie could see him like this and to anyone else they would've thought that Stan was just having a tough time keeping Quinn up. Except that was the opposite of what was happening. Stanley was quite strong as he used the muscles in his legs to hoist them up out of the water.
It just so happened that the mix of hair pulling (one of his turn ons), the fact that her stomach was up against his head, and the his touch on her thighs made him blush all over. Oh, and also because her crotch was sitting on the back of his neck.
Quinn and Richie joined hands and the boy knew that if Stanley was in his place he would've had a field day at what he was witnessing. Because Quinn was bent over and her arms had squeezed to the sides of her breasts to meet Richie's arms, her boobs had smushed together. Richie didn't dare look but he could still see them from where he looked on her face.
They fought back and forth, Quinn pushing at Richie and the other way around. She would occasionally grab onto Stan's head to regain her balance and when she did, Stanley backed up so that Richie wouldn't take the opportunity to knock her off. After a few minutes of struggling on both ends, Quinn eventually pushed Richie off Eddie's shoulders.
The boy went down with a loud yell and defeated, emerged from the water with a frown. "I really just got beat by a girl."
Quinn had a proud smile on her face. "Don't take it personal, I'm just stronger than you." She patted Stanley's head. "You can let me down now."
Stanley went under water and released his grip on Quinn's thighs. Once he didn't feel her on him anymore, he returned to the surface, almost bumping into her. Neither said anything, but both had a small blush on their cheeks as they swam to their separate groups.
Savannah didn't miss the pink tint on Quinn's cheeks and shared a knowing look with Eddie. She and Eddie walked onto land that was about two yards away to get away from the others.
"So, are they in love or are they in love?" Savannah laughed.
"All of the above," Eddie responded with a smile similar to the girl in front of him and looked at Quinn and Stanley who were hiding behind both Richie and Bill.
"And what are we gonna do about it?" Savannah asked, rocking on her feet.
"What do you mean?"
Savannah rolled her eyes. "Well, if we're gonna set them up we gotta have a plan."
"Oh, right. How about we all go to the movies and make them sit next to each other?" His eyes suddenly went wide at the thought he had. "And they can share a bucket of popcorn!"
"Shh," Savannah shushed him. "That's a good idea. But what movie are we gonna see?"
"How about a horror movie?" Eddie suggested.
"That's genius! I know Quinn and she gets scared easily. A scary movie will have her jumping into his arms."
"The theater's doing a rerun of all the eighties scary movies on Saturdays. So tomorrow they'll be playing A Nightmare on Elm Street."
Savannah nodded. "We'll be there."
"Are you gonna be scared?"
Savannah laughed at his question. "Hell no. If there's one thing I have over Quinn it's scary movies. I love them, she hates them."
"Alright, we'll meet you guys there at six, okay? By the time we get out, it'll be dark."
"I'll make an excuse on why I can't take her home and then Stan'll have to walk her." She wiggled her eyebrows.
After a few more hours in the water, it started getting dark out, which meant it was time to leave. Quinn decided against putting on her jeans and instead slipped her shirt over her head and put on her socks and shoes. Her shirt was rather large because it was her mom's so it came down a little above the bottom of her butt, still showing the underwear underneath.
Savannah didn't miss Stanley's stare directed towards Quinn's body and held a big smile on her face. Once in the car, Quinn questioned why Savannah was smiling so large.
"Cause I have a huge crush on Stanley Uris."
Quinn didn't sense the joking tone in her voice and replied with a simple, "Oh."
Savannah snorted at her friend who stared out the window like her soul had just collapsed. "I'm just kidding, he's all yours."
Quinn's head snapped to the driver and scowled. "I do not have a crush on Stanley. Did you not witness what I witnessed today? He was an ass."
"Or maybe, he was having a bad day."
"Or maybe, he's an ass."
Savannah rolled her eyes and continued driving. "Wanna go see a movie tomorrow with the boys?"
"Is-"
Savannah interrupted Quinn's question. "Is Stan gonna be there? Yes."
Quinn glared. "That's not what I was gonna ask. Is someone gonna pay for my ticket? Cause I don't have any money."
"I'll pay for you, sugar baby." Savannah winked.
"Thanks daddy." The girls erupted into laughter.
The next day, Savannah showed up at Quinn's house just before five. Quinn was still getting ready as Savannah walked into her room. She was contemplating whether or not to wear her smaller hoops or go bold and wear larger ones. "Which ones?"
Savannah raised an eyebrow at Quinn's attire. She wore a short blue sundress that had no sleeves and reached just above her mid thigh. It might have been one of the shortest dresses she owned but it definitely wasn't number one. She didn't wear any makeup, like always, but had lip gloss on her lips.
"The small ones," Savannah decided and watched Quinn put them on in the mirror. "Is all this for Stanley?"
"Will you shut up? It's hot outside and I am not making the same mistake as yesterday."
"I'm guessing that's the same for the earrings, lip gloss, and perfume?"
Quinn have her a look. "We're going to the movies with a group of people. Why not get a little dolled up?
They hung out for awhile at Quinn's house until it was time to leave. They both hopped in Savannah's car and drove into town where they would meet the boys at the movie theater. Savannah had yet to tell Quinn what movie they were going to see but she could only assume it wasn't something sappy if the boys were tagging along. Or maybe they were tagging along with the boys. Either way, they were going to see a movie and Quinn hoped it was going to be good.
The boys were already waiting for them as they pulled up and parked. Quinn noticed there was one less male from yesterday and furrowed her eyebrows as they neared the group. "Where's Stanley?"
Eddie and Savannah looked at each other knowingly while Richie responded. "He's inside away from the heat. We've been here for awhile."
"It is pretty hot out," Quinn admitted. "How long have you guys been here?"
"Since four thirty. Eddie forgot what time we needed to be here so we've just camped out waiting for you two," Richie explained.
"Well, lets go in and buy our tickets."
Savannah bought her and Quinn's ticket while the boys bought theirs. When it came to who was getting popcorn, Bill and Richie would share a bucket, so would Savannah and Eddie and Quinn and Stanley.
"Wait, why can't we share a bucket?" Quinn asked Savannah as she took the bucket of buttery popcorn in her hands. Movie theater popcorn was her favorite kind of popcorn. It was popped fresh in front of you and you could determine how much butter you wanted on it.
"Cause I'm not sitting next to you. I'm sitting next to Eddie," Savannah said as they walked into the theater where the movie was playing.
Eddie sat next to Savannah, who was adjacent to Bill and Richie. Quinn found herself sandwiches between Richie and Stanley. A duo she didn't know if she could handle without her open minded friend. Reluctantly, she handed the bucket of popcorn to Stanley. If she wanted some later, she'd grab it herself. When she usually shared, Quinn would set the popcorn on the arm rest but right now she wanted to rest her arm on it.
After what seemed liked a thousand previews of every movie other than the one they were watching, the movie started. The theater went black and the only lights were the emergency ones and the big screen in front of them. Quinn grabbed popcorn and shoved it in her mouth, almost chocking when she saw the title come up on the screen.
THE NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET
Quinn watched in horror with wide eyes then turned to her left, looking over Richie and Bill and scowled at Savannah who was happily eating popcorn. Resting her back into the chair, Quinn sank down and mentally groaned.
"What is it?" Stanley whispered.
"I wouldn't have come if I knew we were watching this," Quinn responded. She would rather puke her own guts out than watch anything gruesome or filled with jump scares. Unfortunately for her, it would be a long night full of violence and scares.
Quinn wasn't expecting a sex scene to show up and the moment it did, she immediately became uncomfortable. Thankfully, it passed by quick enough and she was left with more agonizing jump scares. One scene in particular made her grab onto Stanley's hand that was resting on the arm rest.
The movie continued with little touches like that. Sometimes when Quinn stuck her hand inside the bucket of popcorn, Stan's hand would be there too and they would brush up against each other.
Then there were times when Quinn got really scared and hid herself in Stan's shoulder to stop herself from watching the screen. Stanley was more than okay with the times she got scared. He didn't want to seem too forward and comfort her back but he let her continue hiding in his shoulder.
When the movie ended, Quinn bolted out of the theater to finally get air and leaned against the wall, the rest following shortly after.
"S-Scared of a m-movie, Q-Quinn?" Bill teased.
"Not at all. I was just getting a little hot," she lied. The group walked to the front of the theater and Quinn looked out the windows with wide eyes. "Oh, it's dark."
"That a problem?"
"No," Quinn snapped a little too harsh at Richie's taunt. "I think we should head home, Sav."
"About that, mom said I needed to be home at eight and it's already seven fifty-two. Could you walk home?"
"A-Alone? Out there?" Quinn's gaze went from Savannah to the pitch black outside.
"Stan can walk you home," Eddie suggested and nudged his friend. "Right, Stan?"
Stanley's head shot up at the mention of his name. "What?"
"You'll walk Quinn home, right?"
"Uh," Stanley looked at Quinn who seemed nervous about walking home alone. His expression softened. "Yeah, sure."
"Okay, well I had fun guys, but I should go so my mom doesn't rip my head off and feeds it to the dog." Savannah waved goodbye and got in her car and left. Richie, Eddie, and Bill all left together, leaving Stanley and Quinn alone.
"So, did you like the movie?" Stan asked.
"Hell no."
Stanley laughed and Quinn felt her heart beat a little faster when he did. "I take it your not much of a horror fan?"
"I avoid them like the plague." Quinn crossed her arms and continued looking outside, almost as if she was looking for any supernatural creature or serial killer hidden behind street lamps or alleyways.
"Where do you live?"
"The culdesac off Baker Street," Quinn responded. When they started to walk, she noticed her shoe was untied and told him to wait as she bent down and tied it. "Okay, we can-" Quinn gasped and froze when she felt a hand come in contact with her bottom.
Stanley's eyes widened and his head shot to the culprit. It was some teen who didn't go to their school. Luckily, he was Stan's height so when the Jew grabbed hold of the boy's collar and lift him up, he didn't have to move far. While up in the air, Stanley pinched him in the face and threw him on the ground. Some of the people in the same area witnessed it happen and also saw that when the manager came out, Stan grabbed Quinn's hand and ran outside. They didn't stop running until the theater was out of sight.
Quinn was in shock and confusion by what had just happened and who she had froze instead of beat the boy to a pulp then and there. Maybe when you've defended other girls your whole life, it comes as a shock when it actually happens to you. Quinn was extremely lucky to have had Stanley there beside her in her vulnerable moment and snuck a glance in his direction.
His forehead glistened under the lamp's light because of the sweat from running and he stuck his hands into his pant pockets. He looked down and tried to regain his breath. They walked in silence for a few paces until Quinn finally spoke up. "Thank you."
Stanley looked over at her. He wasn't going to push the subject on her so he let her speak first before asking any further questions. "It was nothing. Are you okay?"
Quinn nodded and frowned. "I should've chopped his dick off and made him eat it right there." Stanley raised and eyebrow and Quinn huffed. "All I've done my life is try to protect other girls from men like that but the second it happens to me I freeze? It's pathetic."
"It's not pathetic. It's just different when it comes to protecting yourself. Instead of an offense attack, it's defense. Two different tactics."
"Then I guess I need more practice on defensive strategies."
They walked through the dark with only the light of the street lamps over their heads. From her left, Quinn heard a bush shake quickly and pounced onto Stanley's side, grabbing onto his arm for dear life. He looked down at her and the second she realized there was no danger, she looked at him. It was only for a second before she jumped back to where she was beside him earlier.
"Sorry," she muttered.
"I-It's fine." He looked down at her and bit his lip. "If you weren't just sexually assaulted, I'd ask to kiss you."
Anger rose in Quinn's body until his full sentence registered in her mind and her face softened. "Y-You would?"
"Yeah. You're pretty and confident and when you jump into me it makes me feel more like a man."
Quinn rolled her eyes with a smile. "I guess I wouldn't mind if you asked."
"Really?" Quinn nodded. "So, can I kiss you?" Quinn nodded again and Stanley bent down and placed his lips on top of hers. Even with the limited knowledge about these encounters didn't stop her from kissing back. Her hands made their way up his neck and while one stayed there, the other trailed up into his hair and twirled it around her finger. Stanley placed his hands on her sides and pulled her in closer so that their hips were touching. He was bold enough to run his tongue along her bottom lip, asking for entrance and she was fine with it, letting him in.
Their little kiss had turned into a make-out session in the middle of the sidewalk until a sound from behind Quinn made her break away and dart her head towards it. It was just a bird flying out from the bush but that didn't stop her heart from pounding fifty miles an hour. Stanley's puffy lips turned up into a smile as he grabbed hold of her hand, reassuring her that it was alright.
"Sorry," Quinn apologized and under his gaze, blushed. He was the only one that had ever made her blush and she didn't know how to act.
"It's fine. Come on, we're almost there." They continued to walk, neither one talking about their shared moment just a few steps ago and fell into a silence before Stanley broke it. "You know, as a man, I don't claim him as part of my gender."
Quinn chuckled. "'As a man,' huh?"
Stanley scoffed in shock. "I am eighteen. Legally I am a man. And I look like one, too." He flexed his muscles.
Quinn let her eyes sweep over his body. "Whatever you say, pretty boy."
"Pretty man," Stan corrected with a smile and Quinn just rolled her eyes.
#stanley uris#stanley uris fanfiction#stanley uris fanfic#it#it fanfiction#it fanfic#stanley uris x oc#the losers club#it 2017#wyatt oleff#stanley uris imagine#imagine#one-shot#one shot#stanley uris one shot
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A Real Knight
Ship: Fairytale!Tom Holland x Male reader (William)
Word count: 3448
A/N: I haven’t written anything in a long time, so sorry for this being shitty. Also just so you know english isn’t my first language. Anyway hope you like it. It’s written in a fairytale world
Once Upon a time there was a kingdom. The kingdom was known for its people who were more sorrowful than any other. They had experience pain and sorrow so deeply it was buried through generations. There was a curse upon the Kingdom, worse than any dragon or wyvern. Grieve was set to befall on every family, all having to bear the burden of knowing; that one day their sons would die on the battlefield of blood. The Kingdom had been at war with a neighboring Kingdom for centuries, but the neighbors were far more cruel and evil than any witch or beast. To serve in the army was the greatest honor that could ever be bestowed on a person. Family suffered losses every day, everyone had lost someone to the war. When someone went to serve, you knew that you would never see them again.
William Jackson had only ever seen the Kingdom from afar. He lived a day outside the castle's walls. When he was little, he dreamed of getting the medal of honor. His dad had served the Kingdom in the war and lost his life in the process. As soon as William turned 18, he was ready to serve the royal army, but his mother did not want him to. She was scared of losing him, just like she had lost her husband. When Will was little; he looked up to his dad. He was his hero but after he died and everyone in the village called him a coward; Will never saw his father the same way again. His mother would never talk about him, the pain was just too much for her.
He asked his mother for permission to leave. His mother said, “Fighting is stupid, being right here with me and your sisters is important”. The words were not enough to put his dreams to slumber. William was not going to be a failure, like his father. He knew his family would understand, someday, so he left. To make them proud, and to fill the hole in his heart.
The road to the castle was long but he took his horse and gathered supplies in a backpack he could carry around the satchel; and so, he went on. To look for happiness and adventure.
After a while William started getting tired, it was hard having to ride for that long. He had heard many stories about travelers but being one even if it was just for a day, was completely different. A headache grew and pain in his legs followed. The horse was getting tired too, but there was no time to stop. To get to the castle would take a lot of ambition and willpower. His eyes started to drift away, and he could feel his eyelids getting heavy trying to close in on him. He thought to himself, closing your eyes for just a few seconds will be OK, but he soon went into a small slumber. It did not take long for the rest to be over, because the horse came to her rough stop. William screamed out of surprise, and so did an old lady. He had almost hit her with the horse, but he was fast to act. The old lady had fell to the ground, and William immediately jumped off his horse to help an innocent. “Are you OK?” he asked with deep concern. He noticed her weird clothes; she was wearing something that looked like a cloak and her hair was as red as fire. Her nose big and eyes small; her skin was full of wrinkles and scars. “I'm fine, my dear; don't you worry about an old lady like me” her voice scratchy and abrasive. he tried not to look and her with a weird eye, she was just a nice old lady “I'm Zelda, and who are you? Young man” she looked him directly in the eye - she was not scared. “Ehh, I am William. I am truly sorry.” he was not hesitant to answer, but his mother always taught him to be nice and well adjusted. William looked at the ground trying to avoid her green eyes out of shame from his actions, that is when he saw it, a neckless. He picked it up, and written across the silver stood, “Savior's heart”. “Ma'am, I think you dropped this”, as soon as he rose; the old lady was gone. He placed it in his belt holder, not really thinking more about it. He did not have time to ask questions, because of this little run day view, he would not have time for a break later. Right now, the most important thing was getting to the castle.
Coming into the village, William kept his head high trying to avoid any glances from any villager. After the tournament he would be a part of the royal army, and his name would receive glory. Finding his way through the village was not hard, there were signs everywhere showing people where to go. He followed the other travelers as they all seemed to be heading to a big field. The field was full of tents in all kinds of sizes. Before he could get in, he had to assign. There were many tables on the field. People came from all over the kingdom, to participate in the tournament.
He raised down from his horse and delivered it to one of the many caretakers provided by the king service. “Hey, you, do you have a number yet?” a young man sitting at one of the tables asked William, taking him out of his thoughts. William took a while before he spoke “Um, no sir. I have not received a number yet” he did his best to straighten his back. There were strong men in a mile of sight, everyone had big muscles and had trained for this since they were small. His eyes wandered around, almost forgetting the conversation, he was having. “God, get your life in check, mate. If you want to be a knight, you can not just stand there looking like an idiot. Okay?”, with the last word, the young man smashed his hand into Williams chest giving him a with the number, 136. To think that they were already that many competitors, made William stomach turn.
He knew that competitors had to share tents. Williams sleeping mates would be number 53 and 17, as assigned on the tents. He stood outside of the tent, not knowing what to expect. He slid through the fabric and walked in hearing two people talking.
“You know I could beat you in a duel any day of the week”, one said to the other mockingly. “Yeah, right, I have always been a better swordsman than you, and you know it”, he commented back. They stopped their conversation as William stands came to a hold. “Hello, I am William Jackson and I am excited to share this journey with the both of you”, William did not notice the confused expression across the two young mens faces as he talked. “Mate, relax, is not like you will be here tomorrow”, the raven-haired boy said in a bitter tone. “Hey James, do not scare him. Do not think about him, he is just a prick”, the young man slammed his hand over the raven-haired boys head.
The blonde man stood up and walked across the tent making his way to William. “I am Thomas”, he said taking his hand out of his pocket for William to greet. “William”, his voice was shaking as they connected their hands, he felled a cold chill run down his spine. He brushed the feeling off, thinking it was just intimidation. Thomas was a Noble man; you could see it on his clothes. He was wearing assessments of a higher caliber. Metals at William had never seen before. He had never seen anyone look as ravishing and elegant. His own appearance now seemed humiliating. “You already said that, mate”, his voice was soft and sympathetic, William felt embarrassed. William looked down trying to avoid eye contact. He made his way over to what was clearly the spare bed.
Conversation was shared about the upcoming tournament, William did not like James that much. He seemed entitled and immature, talking about the girls that would die to marry him after he had won. William would admit James was handsome, but not like Thomas. Thomas had golden curly locks, and eyes as brown as chocolate, his scent was as delightful as roses. He had brood shoulders and a gentle smile. No one in Williams village looked like that. He knew that even though they could act like friends today, tomorrow would be totally different, they would turn on him.
The competition was hard, and there were legends about the blood spilled on that field, but honor came with a great price and William was ready to pay it. He hated the thought of hurting an innocent. The way James talked, made him sick. He could not think that people enjoyed others in pain. It was clear that Thomas did not agree with James values.
As conversation dialed down in the tent, Will found himself thinking about his mom. His mom was not a woman of honor. To her safety was the most important thing – or at least that was what Will thought. She would be proud and admit her wrongs when he came home with a medal. He was going to be everything his dad could not; a real soldier and hero.
He went outside to clear his head all the thinking was giving him a headache so hard it burned. Men were gathered around bonfires laughing and drinking. Will needed to find a quiet place. Today had been too much for him to handle. When he woke up this morning, he could only imagine what being here was actually like. His dad used to talk about the castle like it was a magical land, where everything was possible. As much as he hated his dad, he was right about that.
After walking for a couple of minutes he finally came to an opening, it was a training station. There was a sign saying, “Closed till tomorrow”. William knew then many came a week before the tournament; just to train. He took up his sword from his belt and stood in position ready to fight. Everything he had ever learned about swordsmanship came from his dad. For a man who died in battle, he had some great skills. He started to practice. He tried all the different moves he could remember. His blood started to rise as well as his heartbeat. He was angry, at James, his dad, his mother, but most of all himself. One hit after another in the air and anger filled his bones. He had to succeed. Sweat dripping down from his forehead, as his muscles started getting sore. He did not notice the time passing, but at some point, he cracked and threw the sword directly into a tree. So, Will went to pull it out, but half of the sword was stuck. He could hear a group of guards coming; getting in trouble was the last thing he wanted. No one was allowed to be there after hours, so he ran. He had to give up on the sword anyway, it was scum. He did not talk when he came into the tent, he just laid down on this bed and closed his eyes trying to drift away.
- “I hate you. You are so much like your father. You are a real disappointment to this family. And I do not ever want to see you step your foot inside my house again.”.
- “You are at least just as bad as me. I saw you try to practice but you will never be a great warrior with those little girl moves.”.
The next day came as fast as the other ended, and with the sun they all rose. Thomas kept looking at Will, he felt the pair of eyes on him. For Will this was only going to be the day, where his life really started. Will had not brought any food with him. James on the other hand had a whole crew of people bring him food, he did not even want. Thomas chose to share his plate with Will. “Why are you doing this?” Will asked. “Because it is the right thing to do. Come on, I can not let my teammate starve” he smiled back. Thomas handed him a piece of bread; their fingers glanced each other briefly. They all ate in silence, Will and Thomas sitting on one bed and James on his own.
Nightmares were normal for William, being a disappointment was normal for William. That is why bringing honor to his family meant so much to him. He had to be worth something, he could not just be a good for nothing man. His dad died a coward, and that was his biggest fear, being a coward.
Soon they all left the comfort of the tent and went out to fight for honor. As James took out all his weapons, William started to feel lost. Without a weapon he could not compete, no weapon no honor. James left, and Thomas was just about to follow but stopped when he saw the look on Williams face. “You know if you need anything you can just ask” as soft as Thomas voice was, it did not help with Will lose his distress. “Thanks, but I am fine”. Thomas just nodded and proceeded walking out. There was something off about Thomas, but William could not put the finger on it. Brushing the feeling off he rose from his seat.
William had spent 20 minutes getting ready, trying to get all his armor and gear on by himself. There was not long until his third match of the day. When he had showed up to his first battle a random man came and handed him a sword. The sword looked brand new and expensive, but William did not have time to question it. He won easily, gaining back some of the confidence, he had lost overnight. After the third match, there would be a break. So, the rich could gossip and feast. The king was supposed to give an inspiring speech, and everyone had to listen.
William had not hurt anyone yet, and he was not planning to. People came to serve not to die. William was not a killer, he just wanted to help stop the war. He was a fighter. William knew that he would leave a changed person.
Then a man came into the tent he was standing in. Before turning around William thought it was just one of the helpers, but it was not. There standing before him, was Thomas. Even though that just seen each other this morning. He looked a lot different with all his armor, he had a small cut on the higher cheekbone. “Hey” he said. “Ehh, hi”, what was he doing here William thought. “I just wanted to make sure you got the sword”, so he was the one that sent it. “Yeah thanks, how did you know I needed a sword?”, the question came out sounding more defensive than intended. “I saw you last night at the training station. You were quite impressive if I might say so myself.”, he saw me. William grew embarrassed, no one had ever called him impressive. Not even his sisters, who was his biggest fans. “I have not seen you fight but I can only imagine the kind of swordsmanship someone like you would carry.” William walked a step closer to Thomas. “Someone like me?” Thomas took a step as well. “I mean you are already perfect”. “I am not, at least my dad do not think I am. To him I am a disgrace to our family” he had a sad tone over his voice. “My dad was awful too. “If that helps”. Try not to sound so inconsiderate you idiot, Will thought after he spoke. “Was?”, the question hit hard. “He died in the war”, talking about it made Will feel vulnerable. “I am so sorry for your loss”, Thomas said sincerely. “It is OK, like I said; he was awful.”, just thinking about his dad, made his skin crawl. “Still a loss is a loss”, spoken like someone who had felt it. “My big brother died too” he talked again after a small pause. With all the talking William had not noticed just how close they were. Only a couple of inches from each other. William could see Thomas eyes starting to water, he was trying not to cry. “Sometimes I miss him, even though I do not want to” Will said trying to break the silence. Thomas now letting a small huff out moved closer to Will. William did not know what to think, as Thomas wrapped his arms around his torso. First in shock, he did not do anything, but soon he reciprocated the hug. It was nice being so close to someone, to feel safe. Will started to feel his own eyes watering. they both snuff their noses at the same time and a chuckled escaped from both of their lips. They pulled out slowly from the hug, so they were standing face to face. William felt something he had never felt before. He felt happy in this moment.
“Prince Tom, your father needs to see you right now!”, a man interrupted their conversation. Prince, who is a prince. Wait he said Tom - as in Thomas? William almost lost his mind; Thomas was the prince? “Good luck out there. Will I see you later?” Thomas asked calmly, he sounded like he thought William already knew. “Yes”, Williams thoughts were at war. Thomas smiled and left.
Even though William had just won his fight, all he could think about was Thomas. The fact that he was the prince. He should have been happy about all his victories, but now he did not know what to feel. Everything seemed different. He enjoyed fighting - but maybe he wanted more from life. He started walking around waiting for the king's speech, Thomas father's speech. A man carrying mail, went around handing it out. “Are you William Jackson?”, the man asked. “Yes, I am.”, who would have sent me a letter. “Take this” he handed him a beige envelope. He could see his mom handwriting cross the paper. He turned the envelope around and used his fingernails to open the letter. The letter read:
My dear William.
Hope you get this soon. I miss you and I am sorry. I should have been a better mother, but everything got so hard after your dad died. I know that I do not talk about him a lot, but I really miss him. I know that I should have defended him, when the people in town called him a coward, because he was not. He was good hearted, just like you. He cared more about saving a life, then killing. He never got to tell me what happened, but I talked to one of his friends the day of the funeral. He said that your dad had seen a man crying out for help on the battlefield. He was specifically supposed to stay on duty, but he could not watch a helpless man die. He fought his way towards the man and saved him. When he was not on his post people thought he chickened out and ran. He was brave running onto that battlefield saving a man's life. His friend said that when your dad came back with the man, they took him back to the camp. Your dad got hurt along the way, and with the paramedics being occupied saving the man’s life, your dad died form an unknown wound. People started calling him a coward and have never stopped. His friend tried to stand up for him and tell the truth, but no one believed him. That the reason why I have been so hard on you. I know you and your dad share the same heart and helping people is what you do. You have a savior’s heart. So even though it is hard and losing your dad almost killed me, I will support you.
I love you and I hope to see you soon.
- Mom
He reached into his belt holder and took out the silver neckless, “Savior’s heart”. He knew what he had to do. He knew what to fight for.
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Chapter 2
>> Pairing: Jungkook x Y/N, Jungkook x reader
>> Genre: supernatural, fantasy, vampire, fluff, smut
>> Words: 1336
>> Notes: I am extremely sorry for taking 4 months to write this chapter. I will try my best to upload content more often❤️
Synopsis: You are the chosen sacrifice to the King of the Vampires and his son this year. You decide to be fair to the people that have given their lives before you by going ahead with the God’s decision. You arrive at the Vampire castle ready to be munched on by wolves after having your blood drunk dead out of you but instead you are faced with a strange yet compelling adventure with none other than the beast son of the Vampire King.
What a strange man, I thought to myself at first glance at the man cloaked in only black from head to toe. His face was hidden under the black hoodie of his long cloak. He hasn’t moved an inch since I had come in here. In fact, he didn’t even look up in my direction. Instead he continued to face the ground at his feet hidden in the shadows.
I drew a long shaky breath and stared at the King before me. He really is a very big man, I thought to myself. Nobody would be able to escape from him if he backed them to a wall! The king stared at me with hungry eyes. “You come into my palace, in front of my throne and demand me to behave the way you desire?” he bellowed.
I continue to look at him as I knot my eye brows. “Well, this is technically the last time I’ll ever say anything at all. So, I figured since we are killed as mercilessly as flies being swat, I might as well behave however pleases me to avoid taking my loud thoughts to my grave. Or rather, the wolf pit” I said.
The King laughed, his laughter booming against the cold walls of the castle. The castle architecture seemed very old. It didn’t seem like it had been renovated since the first king built it. The sound of water dripping somewhere was so loud in the lifeless castle. The broad-shouldered guard behind me sucked in a deep breath and held it. I could almost sense his tension from where I stood a couple of feet in front of him. I tightened my fists and clenched my teeth as I swallowed hard waiting for the King to stop laughing like a maniac.
The King came to a stop not soon after, his thin lips still stretched into an evil smile. “You are quite the girl my dear” he said, not taking his eyes off mine. “If you weren’t a disgusting human, I would have had you as my wife! Bedded you! Bathed you! Fed you and put you to sleep with my own hands! Such a delightful experience it could have been!”
What? Ew.
“No thank you” my thoughts spilled out. I immediately placed a hand over my mouth and stared at the King in great horror. The Prince, for the first time since seeing him, lifted his head and seemed to look in my direction. His entire face was covered by a thick, seemingly leather mask. His right eye glowed a bright red. He seems to wearing some sort of eye gadget. Maybe to locate enemies and prey from a long distance away?
Rumor has it that the Prince was subjected to horrendous torture after his older brother fled home. He was locked away at the young age of 4 years and stripped of all emotions in order to be made into the deadliest and undefeatable killer machine he is today. How sad to have lost his mother, brother and himself, all for being born as this man’s son.
I noticed then that his hands, gripping the hands of his throne, were very... human. According to stories leaked by inside sources from the castle, during his upbringing, not only was he tortured physically, but was abused mentally too. He was made to believe marriage was a mere political contract between two people, there was nothing called love, friendship or good. If one must face off someone that threatens their position or rivals their valuables, they must be killed in cold blood no matter what. War cannot be won over with mercy; one kingdom must fall with all its men dead for the other to emerge victorious. He is said to believe his father killed his mother when she could no longer serve a purpose for him and he feared she would threaten his position as the king. He is said to believe his brother ran away from home to escape his duties of becoming the next king and leading their men through victorious wars and he left his younger brother behind knowing what their father would do to him because he’d rather have his younger brother suffer than him. All his life, the Prince was taught to hate everything around him, self-hate, aggression, merciless killing and the taste of torture. One evening, when it became unbearable, he attempted suicide but his father’s men caught him before he could execute his plan. When brought to the King and he confessed to his plan, the King had him kneel where he stood while his men poured kerosene over him and set him on fire. He was said to have run out of the King’s throne room and into the pond in their bathing area, putting out the fire. However, damage was done and he had to wear clothing that fully covered his scarred body and a mask to hide his burnt face.
But looking at his hands now, they seemed very normal. It didn’t seem like it was burnt. Then again, they were all just rumors that had no concrete evidence, I thought to myself as I continued to stare into the red glow on his face. The King smiled at me and shook his head. “It’s so sad that you must die. You truly are quite the catch” he said.
I felt the hair on my back stand at his words. Geez, what is his deal? So weird.
Suddenly, the sound of trumpets could be heard from someplace away followed by cheers. Is this how they commence my torture? I thought to myself miserably. Just then, the broad-shouldered guard grabbed me by my upper arm and dragged away without a word. The King and Prince watched on as I screamed to let go, insisting I can walk by myself.
*******************************************************************************************
Another fussy human, he thought to himself with irritation. He was ready to pull the sacrifice’s throat from her neck if she continued to fuss after being brought here. Seokjin-hyung walked in, with no one by his side. Where is the sacrifice? He wondered. Just then, a petite girl peeked from behind Seokjin-hyung’s broad shoulders. She didn’t seem to be terrified like the other sacrifices that have been brought in over the years. She looked rather unsure. Her eyes widened as she took in my father’s big form, his crown and his presence.
“Why is this sacrifice using you as a cover, Seokjin?” his father asked.
Seokjin-hyung goes onto explain about how she nearly fought knights 78 and 86 but is now hiding behind him.
“Appear before I, the King and my son, pathetic being” his father demanded.
She will be pulled to his feet by her hair if she didn’t cooperate, he thought to himself. Just then, the petite girl stepped out from behind Seokjin-hyung and walked several steps forward until she was too close to his father for her own good.
His eyes grew wide as he took in her appearance. She was brown-skinned with curly black hair, reaching only about 5 feet in height. She didn’t seem like she could even serve one wolf as a proper meal with her gangly arms and thin legs. Her cheeks were dirty and her hair a tangled mess. But her eyes. There was something about the way they stared back at his father and took in the room they were in. They were burning, not with tears of fear and desperation, but with a kind of bravery he has never seen on anyone before.
He looked down at the hard ground at his feet, not wanting to look at her and wonder more about her.
“I only got to live 20 years of my life Lord. Therefore, I took 20 steps forward. Kindly do whatever you please with me as I stand on this spot” he heard her say bravely to his father.
What is this girl made of? He thought with wonder as he kept his eyes trained on the ground.
#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x female reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#bts#vampire jungkook#beast jungkook
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Part Seven
Warlock watches as the world nearly ends, part 1 (Warlock saunters vaguely into their lives part seven)
Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five
Part six
the series on ao3 and links to all my other work
Nanny stole a jeep; Warlock sat in the passenger seat next to him and Aziraphale (in the woman he was possessing) and the weird man sat in the back. There were no keys but it worked for Nanny anyway which, after the burning Bentley, wasn’t actually that surprising.
If possible, Nanny drove faster than usual and they soon caught up with the four children on the other side of camp. They, and a tiny dog that Warlock just noticed, were facing off against some really weird adults. There were four of them: one had white hair and rubbish swirling around their feet, another had cracking skin, sharp teeth and was holding some scales, and the third had bright red hair and blood running from her eyes. The last one was probably the weirdest as its cloaked figure just stood behind the others.
Jumping out of the car, Warlock followed the adults as they ran over. “That’s the one,” Nanny said, pointing at the curly-haired boy who was standing slightly in front of the others. “Shoot him! Save the world!”
Warlock watched as the old man stopped in his tracks ad glance down as the gun in his hands. “You can’t just…” he said. “He’s only a wee boy.”
“Give me that,” Aziraphale snapped and snatched the gun from the man’s loose grip. However, the woman seemed to be fighting him and the two of them wrestled with the gun, alternatively pointing it towards the boy and the sky.
“You can’t kill children!”
“Madam, for the greater good…”
Warlock flinched as the gun went off, closing his eyes against the sudden flash of light. His ears rang from the explosion so he couldn’t make out what Aziraphale/the woman was saying but there was a cloud of smoke above the curly-haired boy.
The woman must have won then.
Tilting his head, the boy studied the woman and asked, “Why did you do that?” Before Aziraphale/the woman could respond, the boy continued, “Why are you two people?”
“Well, it’s a long story but I was in my bookshop…” Aziraphale has got back control again, Warlock thought.
“S’not right,” the boy said. “You should be two separate people again.”
There was no shower of sparkles or a popping noise to indicate that something happened; in one moment, they were sharing one body and in the next Aziraphale appeared in his own next to the woman.
Warlock hung behind Aziraphale and Nanny (who kept stealing glances at the angel, as if to make sure he stayed there). The other kids and the dog had gone back to facing the weird adults and the lead boy turned to his friends and said, “They’re just like nightmares really. We only have to stand up to them.”
The red woman stepped forwards, casually swinging a flaming sword. “I am War,” she said, her voice grand and full of confidence. “Men and boys are made to serve me, to live in me and die in me.” Her words reminded Warlock of his father who regularly told him that war was a ‘necessary evil to protect their country’. During those one-sided conversations, Warlock tended to just nod along; he had little interest in the wider world.
Warlock could see the girl’s shoulders tense as she took a step towards War. Her voice was full of righteousness as she said, “I am not a boy. And my mum says war is just masculine imperialism executed on a global scale.” Warlock wasn’t sure what most of those words meant but it made War pay attention to her.
Raising her flaming sword, War waved it in the girl’s face. “A little girl,” she drawled, “go and play with your dolls, little girl.”
A friend of his mother had a daughter that really didn’t like it when Warlock used to say that girls couldn’t play soccer. Apparently, it was partly due to the fact he called it soccer and partly because, to quote her, “girls can play football just as good as boys” (which she proved by taking Warlock out with an amazing tackle). Warlock could see a similarity between his old friend and this girl in the way she jutted out her chin when she replied to War.
“I do not endorse everyday sexism.”
Sneering, War swung her sword at the girl and Warlock’s breath got stuck in his throat. Before he could properly panic, the girl ducked under the sword’s arc and stamped hard on War’s foot. With a cry, War dropped the flaming sword which the girl snatched up and, straining slightly to hold it with two hands, pointed it at War.
As the girl lectured War, Nanny turned to Aziraphale and said, “Didn’t that used to be your sword?”
“I do believe it was.”
Warlock wanted to find out more because Aziraphale seemed like the least likely person to use a sword (or a gun to be honest), but the lead boy started talking again and everyone’s attention was back on him.
“Just say what you believe, Pepper.” Warlock thought the girl was already saying what she believed but at least now he knew the girl’s name.
War grabbed the sword, seemingly unbothered by the flames, yet it turned out to be a bad idea. Pepper shouted, “I believe in peace, bitch!” and the flames climbed up War’s arm until she was completely engulfed and then pulled her into the sword.
“Drop it, Pepper,” the boy said and the sword clanged on the tarmac. One of the other boys picked it up and pointed it at the adult with white hair.
“And I believe in a clean world,” he said and the person was absorbed by a smoky flame; the only thing left behind was their black crown. The boy passed the sword to the last boy with glasses who directed it to the slim man.
“A-And I believe in enough food,” the boy said shakily. The dog darted forward and bit the man’s ankle and, with a surprised and pained shout, the man followed his friends into the sword, his scales dropping to the floor next to the crown.
The lead boy moved in front of his friends and addressed the last figure, who Warlock had nearly forgotten about with all the other stuff happening as the cloaked person had not moved once. “Death,” the boy said, “this has to stop now!”
When Death spoke, it sounded as if it was speaking directly into Warlock’s mind. He said, “IT HAS STOPPED FOR NOW. BUT WE WILL BE BACK. YOU CANNOT DESTROY ME AS THAT WOULD DESTROY THE WORLD. With a slight incline of its head, Death said, GOODBYE GENTLEMEN (Warlock heard the woman and Pepper exclaim “Hey!” in unison at that) and then, it disappeared by creating what appeared to be a black hole.
Aziraphale turned to Nanny and said, “There, you see Crowley?” It’s like I said…”
“It isn’t over,” Nanny said, tilting his head up to the sky. “Nothing’s over. Both Heaven and Hell still want their war.”
Part Eight
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Coraline au (Firebird)
N/A: Here comes the Firebird.
@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @discordsworld @bamfoftheundead
Kitty´s hair is getting longer and she can recognise this as her curly long hair is spread around his shoulder and chest. In his own words, Kitty looks like a cute cat(and he chuckles as she looks at him funny. He adds, amused, she also look like a puppy too) and their hands/tentacles are untied. Is a calming moment among a human and Chaos itself.
"Hey, were you ever married before?" Kitty asked trying to hear his heartbeat. His mask is perfect in every sense, but, he´s not human and that´s something many, many people never realize until is too late.
No Heartbeat is found.
Kurt just chuckles again. His own laughter seems to vibrate through his body and Kitty has the feeling that the universe can feel it too. For some reason, that does make a smile born in her face.
"You mean if I was ever needing of a wife for my plans? Well, yes, and no, whatever happens, was consensual. Some lesser gods take women, men without caring for ethics" and flashes a big smile "when I was king of Kaldrum" and he´s not surprised by the fact Kitty knows this planet and this faction "I was married to a woman. She was a good cover!"
"Well, yeah, I can see you being a king and needing a Queen. And when you´re just being YOU?" now her face is directly making contact with his. Kurt won´t mention she´s in a compromised position now. He´s a gentleman.
"I mean, have you as well you, ever want company? The cats told me you´re the forever alone, but, you´re very, very old so I found hard to believe you never had anyone to share the night" Kitty explains and now Nightcrawler is pondering. His tentacles are playing with her hair.
When her hair got so big? Is almost full of life.
(LK can remember vividly of a certain case of a certain Outer God walking in his domains with such lively hair...)
Nightcrawler chuckles again. Odd how such malicious god can have such calming and soothing laugh, well, this is a special moment sure he keeps his ''evil laughter'' to work hours.
"Well...once upon a time another Outer God pretending to me be, doing a comical job at that" Kitty for some reason frown at that. "was walking down my realms and I got to admit she was ballsy for her endeavours. Do you know who she was?"
"Zaorva" she speaks as if is a question but deep down she is well aware is not.
"Yes, she! And is now funny how people really think she was me. The sea of dogs that follow her should have been a big clue" Kurt responds bemused "yes, yes, some cats follow her as well. Still...dogs!"
"Hey! Dogs are pretty cool as cats too." Kitty feels bothered by his comment for some reason. Kurt notices. IT smiles now.
"Anway, she also eats my snake god" now he feels sad and Kitty rolls her eyes. For some reason, she´s thinking in chicken when he details how Zaorva eats his favourite pet snake "and I would be very cross with Zaorva " his eyes trail Kitty´s petit form as she shakes her head not believing him and IT knows she is right. As if IT would hurt her "she also changes Anubis into a dog"
LK watches as Kitty rants about this case. "That fake dog. He was advertising himself as a dog, a good boy, but, in the end, he was just a human with a good aesthetic. I didn´t like that story and yes I can see Zaorva changing him into a dog to teach him a lesson" she crosses her arms.
LK is amused.
LK is also worried. The woman lay her head on his chest as she continues to talk softly with him and, for once in his entire existence, LK is listening gently.
Am I getting soft? Better go destroy something latter.
_________________________________________________________________________
Jupiter is drinking his water looking at the moon. A full moon indeed. And back to Cosmo who is staring so intensely at the moon. "Hey, you won´t turn into a werewolf, right?"
"Jupiter, we talk about it. Werewolf is a human thing." Cosmo replies and asked something to Jupiter. "hey, remember when you asked about my patron?"
"The lady with many, many and many names? yep"
"Do you still want to meet her?"
"As long she´s not a werewolf..." Jupiter side-eye to the dog who rolls his eyes again.
"Not a werewolf, promise. And you´ll meet her soon. Right after Pheonix arrive on Earth"
"What?!"
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The phone rings in Kitty´s newest residence. A superstar("guys, I´m not that famous!" "Don´t be modest Katzchen") living with her parents is cute until it isn´t. And when Kitty answers are the X-men begging, that´s right, begging for her help.
"Is Jean...she´s not alright" Ororo´s voice is speaking in a low tone as if she´s hiding. She can hear Dazzler and Rogue shout something and a third voice saying "Ah, damn I just finish fix the ceiling!"
"What happened?" Kitty asked with Cosmo on her lap.
"A team of X-men were sent to Space to help the Shiar´s civilization...but...but...Jean returns differently. Could you help us?"
"Of course, I´m on my way"
Cosmo only gives on a word to this situation. "Firebird."
Jupiter now has questions. Is this part of the dogs´ plans?
____________________________________________________________________
Jean Grey is fine. In fact, more than fine as now she sees everything with total clarity. Logan is not having a good time as Jean´s power is upgraded to the maximum.
"Am I still a myth little man?" she said in a deep voice. Non-human like as she, using her powers, juggle Logan among other objects. "Apology and I may stop it"
"Jeanie. Please, that´s not you" Logan pleads. "Please, for what you feel for me"
"Urg. Seriously? Did I have to fuck Scott Summers in your face for you to get I don´t love you? You know what? Stay here thinking about your life...if I´m the mood I may kill or change you, whatever strikes my fancy"
And no one manages to take Logan from that punishment.
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Kitty arrives with Nightcrawler and, of course, Jupiter and Cosmo who have mixed reaction to seeing Jean Grey aka Pheonix in the flesh. Jupiter is scared ("I think she knows I eat many birds on the way here") Cosmo is calm and a bit bored("Ok, ok, you can stay behind me. I´ll protect you, but, can you stop using the slim form? Is freaking me out") Kitty is surprised and Nightcrawler is laughing in a mocking tone.
Pheonix is not happy to see Nightcrawler. But smiles gladly at Kitty. "Is good to see you again even if IT is here" Pheonix replies to a very smiling and creepy Nightcrawler.
"You´re Pheonix!"Kitty states calmly playing with the deity hair as if she´s a small child. "Does this mean you eat Jean?"
"In other versions? Yes. In this one? No. We merge, so to speak. She was made to be my vessel" Pheonix respond as Kitty is playing with her hair "She is not very fond of you"
"I noticed. Jean Grey is not good in being subtle ...just like me" Kitty jokes and the good moment is broken as Pheonix turns to Nightcrawler and speaks with venom in her voice. "And you! Keep your damned cats away from my birds"
"I can´t control my cats"
There´s something oddly familiar in this scene. "You two ...know each other...intimaly?" Kitty was sure they were exes with a bitter past. Nightcrawler and Pheonix are disgust by the question.
Kitty is somewhat relief by this revelation.
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"So...Jean is Pheonix?" Scott asked once Kitty explain the situation. People were hoping for Kitty to fix this situation, and deep down maybe Kitty could take Pheonix out of Jean´s body, but, for some reason, she does not want.
Pheonix arrives first. She´s a fair person.
"Think of this way. You have a relationship with Jean now" she points at the red hair who has control of her choices and frowns as she recalls Pheonix let Kitty braid her own hair. "and a relationship with the Firebird of life and destruction. Pheonix"
Scott looks at Jean for a moment. "Is something really strange. And don´t know what to think right now, but, Jean is here and that´s what matters as for the Firebird, I mean Pheonix, well, uhm...I´m open to date an Outer God" Scott jokes cracking a small smile from Jean.
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"Dazzler" Pheonix speaks and the blonde can feel the fire even in her small words. Dazzler bows to the Outer God. Pheonix seems to enjoy the love and respect she got.
"Relax, I don´t have any mission for you, in fact, me and Galaticus are very pleased with your track so far. I´m here to ask one thing" Pheonix draws suspense for a moment and Dazzler waits for the question. She hopes she won´t take a page from Zaorva/Gaia and ask something impossible, however, she chooses something different. "When Kitty punch Nightcrawler, did it feel pain?"
"Extremely so. I have the memories if you want to see it"
"Yes, please. I have Jean´s recollection of the case. I watch from space, but, oh that still is worth watching"
Nightcrawler is watching is not impressed.
#coraline au#kurtty#lovecraft kurtty#lovecraft kurt#Kitty gave a hell of punch on LK and Pheonix loved it#Kitty´s hair is coming alive as she is the avatar of life itself#I think LK is catching up Kitty is Zaorva but is not sure#Kitty is not covering herself here
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A Spark
A Spark
By: Emma Sinclaire & Line Svensson
“Sometimes we have to do what we don’t want to do.” That is what my mother would tell me when I objected to going to school as a kid. I wanted to stay at home or go to my mother’s job and do things than be there. But every time, without fail, when my mother said this phrase I promptly grabbed my bag and went to school. I knew the story behind her saying that. I’d only heard it once, in the midst of one of her few drunken moments, but that was enough.
We live in the country of Panem, in a place called the Capitol, which is the heart and soul of the country, or so I’ve been (I’d been) told. The districts surrounding the Capitol was there to bring nourishment to us. It is a place of beauty and luxury. Supposedly the greatest place on earth. But if it’s so great, how could the events in my mother’s life be possible? My mother didn’t have a lot of money growing up, and even less when she got into her adult life. Before she had gotten the job at “Intexui” she had struggled to get by, taking odd jobs here and there, just to make ends meet. But that’s when things changed for the worse.
42 ADD
She had walked up the entrance of a big mansion. There was a party going on inside and she was demanded to be there. As she knocked on the door the head of the house opened it.
“Ah, there you are. You must be the lovely lady my colleague was so kind as to send us”, he said while he had a malicious smile on his face. She could feel her pulse into her fingertips. She had been terrified to her very core, but what was she supposed to do? When they had seen you, they had seen you. When they wanted you, they wanted you. There was no going back, and she couldn’t afford to lose everything. She plastered on the bravest face she could, smiled slightly and walked through the front door. As she walked in, he put his arm around her waist, and he guided her around the house. As they walked into the backyard, she could see there was a small party gathered. Most of them were women, but they all had the same look on their face as she did.
“Look, fellas! Pontius sent us another gorgeous one!”, said the homeowner as he let go of her waist and made his way to the couch in the middle of the yard and picked up his purple-tinted drink. Everyone eyed her like she was a piece of meat that was up for sale.
“She truly is a beaut. What’s your name sweetheart?”, said one of the men as he poured himself another drink.
“Anya”, she replied.
“That is a beautiful name.”, said a voice behind her. The man came around so she could see him. He was a generically attractive man. Average height, olive skin, short clipped curly hair that had been dyed into a silver color and with silvery lips to match. He was wearing a neon green colored suit that had feathers around the sleeves. A very typical outfit for someone in the Capitol. When she looked into his eyes, she tried to look for some kind of warmth in them. There was none to be found. Her heart was beating faster now. She had never been this scared before. But she knew again that there was nothing to do. She had heard it wasn’t as bad if you didn’t resist it.
“Caiaphas! You’re here. Great now the party can really get started. We were just discussing this years Hunger Games. We think it’ll be a blast. Abimelech just told us that the arena this year will be in a woodland area, with all manner of poisonous animals,” a gentleman in a bright pink suit said. The man Abimelech turned his head towards them and smiled.
“You did hear that I’d been accepted as a part of the game maker group? We get all the details before it’s released to the public,” he said very proudly.
“I did hear. That is smashing! We expect to get a good show out of you then,” said Caiaphas. He took Anya by her arm and guided her to the yard, and there the gentlemen engaged in conversation until nightfall. The women, however, did their best at trying to fit in and being of service, but it was clear that they weren’t there for their conversational prowess.
The people eventually started trickling off from the conversation and Caiaphas put his hand on her leg.
“Let’s go,” he said with a very commanding and sharp voice. Then he stood up and grabbed her hand. As they walked off into the house and up the stairs Anya knew that her life would not be the same.
They had stripped her of her agency, and she had become just another part in their game. A game she couldn’t win. After a long and humiliating night, she took a car ride back home. Once she was in the car, she felt dirty and violated. She sobbed into the early hours of the morning. Never again, she thought. No matter what.
43 ADD
9 months later she was admitted into the hospital with intense pains coming from her abdomen. The time had come for her to deliver the baby. She had found out that she was pregnant just weeks after her horrid night in the mansion. She had, of course, tried to get in contact with him, as she liked to call him, her perpetrator, but she never saw or heard from him ever again. It was truly amazing what money could do. It could even make you invisible. I was born on January 8th and was taken home the day after to be raised by my mother alone.
49 ADD
My childhood passed me by without any event. I got up in the morning, ate, went with my mother to work and then home to eat and sleep. Same thing day in and day out. The thing that did change though was the love I had for my mother. It grew day by day as I saw her work her hardest, push herself to the limit with a constant smile on her bright face. The only time she broke from that smile was when someone asked about my father and in those lonely moments, she had by herself, in the late nights, sitting by the kitchen table with a glass of pungent spirits. When I turned six, I had worked up enough nerve to ask about my dad. She had turned around to me in the store and given me a defeated but stern look.
“Later,” she said. I had nodded and gotten back to drawing my undecipherable painting. In the evening, when we got home, she drank a whole bottle of a lemon-colored drink and sat in silence for about an hour before she started telling me the story. I could see how much every word hurt her, so I did my best to not ask more, and remember every word she said. When she finished, she grabbed another bottle, kissed me on my cheek and went to sit in the living room.
Life went on as normal after that, on the outside at least. There was, however, a battle that raged within me. Good versus evil. Right versus wrong. Things didn’t get any easier when I started school. I had always lived quite the secluded life with my mother. I never had many friends, and now I was being made to go and socialize with my peers. From day one I could tell they were very different from me. My general attitude was always a silent, cheery type. My classmates were, however, more, peculiar. They all had that strong Capitol accent which would just drive my mother up the wall sometimes. However, they made me curious. I wondered what their lives looked like. How did it differ from mine? What were their parents like? It would become more and more apparent over the years exactly how I was different, and nobody likes a person who breaks the status quo. But that’s the great thing. Sometimes we don’t just have to do things we don’t want to do, but we can actually do what we want. This thought would come to set deep roots within my heart and soul, and it would emerge years later.
50 ADD
I remember the first time I truly started to see the horrors the Capitol with my own eyes and understanding. Sometimes you see these events in hindsight and realize the horrors you witnessed or experienced. To me, that was the 50th Hunger Games. Double the tributes, double the celebration, and double the suffering.
Since there were twice as many participants, there was also twice the demand for the most extravagant garments for the celebrations. The fabrics store mother worked at, was, of course, booming in business due to this demand. During this time, my beautiful mother spent more time in the store, than she did at home. Her dark curly locks framed her almond-colored face, illuminating her bright hazel iris with specks of gold. She was a true beauty amongst the flamboyant fashions and unnatural colors of the Capitol.
Like the brat I was, I blamed my mother for not making enough time for me in her day. Little did I know that she was constantly berated by demanding customers and blamed for errors that were no fault of her own, for several hours on end in order to keep the roof over our heads and the food in our bellies. She would come home, exhausted and immediately fall into bed and sleep, on most days. Sometimes I would hear an odd noise coming from her bedroom during nights, but only as an adult did I understand them to be smothered sobbing.
My favourite tribute this year was a tribute who wore one of my favourite fabrics from the store. When he answered a question regarding the 100% increase in tributes. He said he didn’t see much difference this year, as they would also be 100% as stupid. Just hearing someone say stupid is funny enough to a kid I guess.
But I truly understood the sufferings once the 50th Hunger Games was finished. My mother cried for most of it. Especially when the girl died by the pink birds, and my favourite had to hold her as she died in his arms. I remember seeing many people happy or cheering, but I didn’t understand why. There was even more celebration when he won the entire event, after winning a gruesome fight that mother would barely let me watch. The sounds were enough to understand the violence they put each other through.
“Why is everyone happy, but not that guy?” I asked while pointing at the winner on the screen. Mother looked at me with mixed pride and sorrow, as she answers:
��Because being a winner, means someone else has to lose.” she points at the same guy. “But he didn’t want to be a winner, he just wanted to survive.” I still couldn’t quite get it.
“But what’s the difference?”
“A winner wants to see others fail, in order for themselves to succeed. But the survivor is someone who simply lived when others unfortunately died.” She gave me a weak smile with teary eyes as she said the last part.
Even the child me now understood that the Capitol wanted winners, but we were in fact just survivors, trying to live through a game they created.
I looked to the screen again, to see my once hero, being wounded, broken and empty.
56 ADD
I stepped into the store and was greeted by a forced smile. The smile falters and instead grows into heartfelt glee. Nobody embodies strength quite like my mother. Although tired from the daily labour at the store, she still finds happiness and energy in her heart to always make both of us happy and safe.
“You’re here early! Is school already over?” she asked.
“Yeah, they finished early since the celebrations start today.” hinting at the reaping that was going to air later that day.
“I see. Well, it is understandable. Many do create extravagant viewing parties, and that sure takes time.” she answers with a slightly displeased tone. “Some girls came in earlier today looking for fabrics for a last-second change of a dress. They looked at almost all the fabrics we had before choosing just another tint of the original color the dress had. But the smallest things matter of course!” she said the last part with clear sarcasm.
“So what’s the inspiration and trends this year?
“Seems to be a lot of dark green, brown and beige. Some even come looking for skins of lizards, frogs and crocodiles,” she answered a bit wearily.
I just sighed and marvelled at the ways Capitol would try to find any symbolism from the games and always taking the most basic ones.
I recently started to come to help mother at the store after school and the owner, Gaius. would even toss an extra coin our way for my effort. Most days I just helped to restock and putting the fabrics in proper order onto the shelves, as they tended to be moved around a lot when mother was busy. I found the work satisfactory and calming. Feeling the fabric between my fingers and seeing all possible colors through different materials. Sometimes I’d imagine them as gowns, shirts or other garments. I would sometimes even draw the ideas onto paper once I got home. I’m pretty sure that mother knew, but it didn’t seem to bother her.
Just as I was about to finish off my work, the doorbell of the backdoor rang.
“Coming!” mother yelled out. She opened the door to find a man holding a smaller package. Mother signed the waiver as she usually would and thanked the man.
“An odd time to make a delivery. They usually arrive much earlier,” she said once she had closed the door. We opened the package and saw a peculiar note saying “experimental material”. We both looked at each other, confused and curious. Mother pulled out a black polyester material that didn’t seem like it was any different to other black fabrics in the store. Right then the front doorbell rang, signalling customers. Mother shoved the box towards me and said:
“Could you put this on the desk in the office? I think the owner needs to look at this.” and left to care for the newly arrived customers.
I quietly walked into the office with the box and put it on the desk. When I did, I saw another note fall out of the box. I picked it up and glanced at it. This was a manual or explanation of the fabric and how to utilize it. Although seemingly uninteresting at first glance, the fabric was able to give off different illusions in different lights and angles. I touched the fabric again with awe and my imagination soared. The outfits and gowns this could create would be a sight to behold and a true spectacle. However; it would take someone with quite the personality to carry such a striking look.
“Cinna! Could you help for a second?” my mother called from the store. I touched the fabric one last time and went to help with whatever task I was called for.
61 ADD
I decided to teach myself more about how to design and create clothing. I would ask and learn some of it from customers in the store since many worked with design or made a living by sewing. I also learned some from books I could manage to borrow from time to time, but most of it was from practising on my own when the store was closed, on the sewing machine. I had asked to borrow it from the Gaius and the materials needed was either scrap from the store or paid by working.
“Come Cinna, it’s time to go home.” Mother ushered me away from the sewing station, ready to head home.
“Very well, but you know I’m old enough now to walk home on my own, right?” I answered slightly frustrated on having to finish early and leave my work unfinished for another day.
“Would it hurt to humor an old woman who wants to walk home with her son?” she answered with a cheeky grin. Although she looked somewhat worn after all the years of hard work, she was still a beauty with immense energy in my eyes.
“You’re no old woman yet. My eyes cannot be fooled.” I answered in an amused tone.
I packed the last bits and pieces into a designated box for my works and stood up to link arms with my dear mother.
“Shall we?” I asked as she nodded and we headed home. My mother gave me a prideful and pleasing smile that only a mother can give her child.
Once at home, I got to study for school, as well as research more work or techniques I could practice. Mother stood in the kitchen, making the usual late evening dinner for us both. I was fully immersed in learning the history of the Districts and their importance to the Capitol when I heard my mother yell in agony. Shocked and worried, I got to my feet and hurried into the kitchen, scared that she was hurt or injured.
“Mother! What happened?” She was crouching next to the stove, with a pan to her left side, cradling her left arm. Her heavy breathing and groans subsided slightly as she explained:
“I tipped the boiling water onto my arm. Stupid of me.” she cursed herself for the one small mistake she made. From what was not covered by her shirt, the elbow, most of the forearm and hand was covered in red blotches. Trying to hold back a shocked gasp, I decided that it was too serious to be left on its own.
“There’s nothing stupid about an accident. Come, let’s get you to a hospital quick. We need to get some medical attention before it gets worse.” I tried to gently lift my mother by the right arm to stand, but she pulled back her arm and almost hissed at me:
“You know we can’t afford that! It would be cheaper to cut off my arm!” she seemed instantly apologetic for her behaviour and continued to cradle her arm.
“Then let me at least get you into the shower so you can run cold water on your arm. That would hopefully do some difference.” I answered as I pleadingly looked at her. She meekly glanced back and silently nodded. I gently grabbed her right arm again and led her into the shower and ran some cold water. She sat down in the shower, audibly groaning as the water hit her injured arm.
“I will get you some painkillers. Hopefully, they will alleviate some of the pain.” with one last squeeze of her hand, I went to get her medicine. I heard her agonizing groans as she pulled off the first layer of the shirt she was wearing, so she could more properly cover the burn with cold water. Some screams slipped out and I hurried back with the medicine. Once I was back in the bathroom, she had gotten the shirt of the injured arm.
“Here, let me do the rest,” I said, kneeling in front of her and gently rolled the shirt off her. My mother was visibly exhausted from the pain as I brought the pills to her mouth. “Take them, you will need them.”
She sighed and swallowed the pills, although some defiance was still in her eyes.
I spent the night in her bedroom, looking after her while she slept and wetting the towel that covered her arm with cold water ever so often. She luckily stayed asleep. Must be the sleeping pill I gave her with the painkillers.
“...inna”
I must have fallen asleep at some point during the night, as I woke up so a soft whisper of my name. I stretched out my slumped back on the chair and slowly opened my eyes to the rays of lights that penetrated the curtains.
“Cinna..” mother called out in a weak voice. I looked at her and saw sweat pearling on her pale face and a weak right arm stretching out to me. I bolted out of the chair to hold her hand.
“Mother, how are you feeling?” I asked worried, although I could clearly tell this wasn’t good.
“I’m ok, just help me to the bathroom.” It took all she had to just say those words. I gently took he by the right arm, trying to not look at her swollen left arm. She grimaced and groaned as she got to her feet. We slowly made our way to the bathroom and I sat her on the porcelain seat.
“Just tell me when you’re done, and I’ll pick you up.” I closed the door and headed to the kitchen to arrange some more painkillers and food. After a while, she called out and I tried as gently as possible to get her back to the bed. When the discomfort and pain had subsided a bit, she asked:
“Could you cover for me at the store today? You know no one else will be able to.” we were lucky that the school was off for the weekend.
“Of course, but you should really get yourself checked at a hospital first,” I said, worried and hoping she would see reason this time. She did not.
“It’ll be fine with some more rest and water. Just go work and I’ll surely be fine by the evening.” she smiled to try and gloss over the alarming symptoms she showed.
“Ok, but if you don’t feel better by the time I’m back, I’m taking you to the nearest hospital.” I tried to say it in a commanding tone, as to make her understand that I was serious.
“It seems that I’ve gotten old enough to have my own boy worry about me,” she said while stroking my cheek. I kept a steady gaze as I grasped that hand.
“I mean it,” I answered. She fell silent, and her smile wavered. “I’ll drag you there if I have to.” I continued. She nodded and gave a weak:
“OK.”
I was off to the store, after preparing more medicine, water and a new cold towel on her arm. I arrived minutes before the store would open and explained the situation to Gaius. Although slightly dissatisfied with not having his favourite employee at work that day, they understood and agreed I should fill in her role for the day.
The day passed, and except for a few hiccups with my service manners, I would say it went fine. But I hastened home to check on mother’s condition.
“Mother! I’m home! How are you feeling?” I called out once I opened the door to the hallway. No reply. I quickly went into her bedroom to find her, still in bed, but the bed was now soaked in her sweat and water from the towel. She looked fatigued and worse than this morning.
“Cinna, I’m so sorry,” she muttered through her fever dream. I knelt down by her side and held my hand against her forehead. It was sweltering. I knew that she could not stay like this.
I barely got her on her feet and prepared to take her to the closest hospital. I took her uninjured arm over my neck to drag her there. Luckily enough, the closest one was only a block away, so after an unstable walk, we arrived. The nurses took one look at my mother and quickly got to work by pulling out a wheelchair and promptly putting her in it. Dazed and confused, mother called out to me.
“Cinna! Cinna, where are you?” Put myself in her range of view and answered:
“It’s OK mother. The doctors will take care of you now.” I answered to assure her. She sloppily grabbed my hand in desperation and replied:
“But the fees! We can’t afford this!” I looked into her eyes and stroked her cheek.
“I’ll figure something out. You should just focus on getting better now.” was the last I could reply before the nurses urgently rolled her off into a restricted area.
“Are you the relative of Anya?” someone asked behind me. What looked to be a doctor approached me in the waiting room with a medical report in his hand.
“Yes! I’m her son, Cinna.”
“Well, we have finished our emergency treatment and examination.” The doctors face hinted that the rest would not be good news. “But we have deduced that your mother has Toxic Shock Syndrome from an infection started from the burn on her left arm. The toxins from the bacteria are what’s causing her illness. Her situation is in dire need of more treatment” I looked into the doctors face in horror.
“Can you treat it? Will she be OK?” Because that was my only concern at this point.
“Yes, but the treatment of both her arm and the TSS will be quite costly and she would also have to be administered to the hospital for a couple of weeks during the treatment.” He then gave me a sheet estimating the cost for said treatment. The doctor made an educated guess that we could not afford such a fee, which is correct.
“I know we lack the proper funding, but could you start the treatment now and we could pay it off at a later date?” I tried to find any way to make it work and was as close as I could be to bargaining.
“That is unfortunately not a service we provide. We can at most hold her until tomorrow evening while trying to keep her condition stable. But I’m afraid we can’t do any more after that point.” The look in his eyes made it seem like I was the unreasonable one and a nuisance. I then felt my shaking hands that I had unconsciously formed into a fist.
“Please…” My voice cracked as I pleaded and held back my tears.”Please just hold her until tomorrow. I will find a way.” Although no idea of how. The doctor nodded.
“Very well, please be back by 10 pm.” The doctor almost sneered at me.
Well at home again, I panicked. I let out the sobs I withheld earlier and my mind spun around on what I should do. I could call Gaius for an early payment or a loan, but that would probably still not be enough. I know there are some people looking for extra organs on the black market, but that would not make me able to reach her in time. Yes, time was of the essence here. I could not lose the once person I held dear in this wretched city. Should I sell myself of for servitude, like my mother had been forced to? And then it hit me. Caiaphas.
After a sleepless night, I put my plan into action. In order to save the one I loved the most, I had to face the one I loathed even more. My own father. I stood at the gated entrance and my finger hovered over the call button. I had dressed in the finest suit I had sewn for myself, but that was still not much in comparison to the servants clothing. My red eyes and swollen face probably did not help either. I pressed the button and waited.
“Caiaphas manor. What business do you have here?” The impatient lady answered at the other end. I suspected it was a secretary who could see me from some camera by her tone.
“I am Cinna.” I paused and hoped she would know by my name alone. She did not. “I am Caiaphas’ son.” The other end went silent for a moment as if she was doubting it.
“Please hold” she answered with a sigh that got cut of. I now felt my palms sweating and the nerves kicking in. As I was lost in thought, the gate suddenly opened.
“Please enter” sounded from the speaker.
I took slow and careful steps up the stairs leading to the big mansion. The wide doors swung open as I saw a man spread his arms out to welcome me.
“Cinnaaa! What a joyous occasion,” he exclaimed. I had mastered the ability to tell when a smile meant something else, and by his, I could tell this was not joyous at all. “What brings you all this way?” I was at first surprised by the fact he remembers my existence or that he wanted to greet me at all.
“Hi.” I gave out weakly. “I was hoping that we could talk,” I stated as I nervously glanced around at all of the staff. “Alone?” He did not look pleased nor surprised.
“I suspected as much.” He kept trying to hold his facade but seemed to be slipping now. I silently followed him back through the garden to a bench halfway down the driveway.
“Please, have a seat.” I sat down on the far end of the bench as he sat down at the other. “So what business did you have today, Cinna?” He spitefully said my name.
“I came today to ask for a loan.” I thought cutting to the chase would be easier since time was of the essence and he did not enjoy my presence, to begin with. “I fully intend to pay it back in time, but I would need to leave with the specified amount by the end of our meeting.” I gave him a note with the estimated cost from the hospital. He took it into his hand and glanced at the amount. He lifted one eyebrow and snickered.
“What? Anya can’t pay for college?” he humorously replied. “You probably won’t need the education anyway. You’ll just stay in that shithole with her.” He waved his hand at the thought.
“I need it for mothers treatment,” I answered blankly, trying to ignore the seething rage building in me. He got quiet then and his smile dissipated.
“Treatment? What treatment?” He looked at the note in disgust now. He still did not understand the seriousness of the situation.
“She has had a serious burn which led to Toxic Shock Syndrome.” I steadied my gaze into his eyes. “This is the only thing I will ask of you as a son. You will never have to see me after this unless it’s for the payments.” He looked slightly shocked and froze for a while. But then burst into laughter, which shocked and enraged me. He replied:
“You really think I care about you or your whore mother?” he answered with a mocking tone. “If I wanted you in my life, you would be. But I don’t, so leave and stop wasting my time. What a waste of space.” He continued to mock and laugh as he stood up and started walking away. I slammed my hidden fist onto the table and got to my feet with tears in my eyes and rage in my heart.
“She’s dying and that’s all you have to say?!” I furiously spit out. He turned around, still looking somewhat amused but at least he contained his laughter now. “We might be a waste of space, but at least we’re not the shitstain of humanity.” That removed his stupid grin.
Two guards escorted me to the gates and shoved me through the exit. One guard yelled after me:
“For your own good kid: don’t come back.”
I made my way home, but without a single hope or possibility left, I was in tears. Although many whispered and avoided me on the streets, I couldn't care less. The tears trickled down my face and dampened my handmade suit.
The walk back took quite some time, and by the time I got home, it was 7 PM. Only three hours left. I was now filled with rage. I took out my anger on my environment. The clothes I ripped apart, the furniture I toppled and rendered some of them unusable. I felt my hands beat along to my heart, from punching the furniture and floor, in anger. I gasped for air as I regained my senses and sadness. I had failed her. I promised her I could find a way. But there is none. Not for a waste of space. But the ringing of the phone abrupted my breakdown.
A block later and I was outside the dreaded place. As I entered, one of the previous nurses led me into a nearby room where several nurses and doctors ran in and out. Upon entering, I saw my now husk of a mother on the bed and felt like collapsing then and there. But before I could, the doctor I had previously talked to approached me once more.
“Can you go through with the treatment?” He urgently asked. I bit my lower lip and shook my head. He looked solemn for one moment, but then stated. “Then there is nothing we can do. She has deteriorated quickly and will unfortunately not be with us for much longer at this pace.” He then waved for the staff to exit the room. “We will leave you two alone.” Door closed.
I sat down on the chair next to her bed and collapsed my body onto her bed. I could once more not withhold my cries and sobbed like the child I was. Suddenly I felt a soft hand on my head.
“Cinna, my sweet boy,” she whispered with a smile that contained the beautiful strength I knew her for. “I am so proud of you.” I looked up with tears in my eyes as I replied:
“No mother, I failed you! I tried to convince Caiaphas to lend me money for the treatment, but he simply laughed in my face! I couldn’t even make him see reason!” she saw my distraught face and teary eyes. She put my hands in hers and smiled again.
“What matters is that you had the strength to try and fight and that you also still made your way back to me.” she squeezed my hand with the little effort she had left. “I needed nothing more from this earth than you by my side..” she now let a tear from her eye, to match mine. “Just remember that I always have and always will love you, my boy. You made this life worth living, not just surviving.” she slowly uttered those last words, as she fell into a calm sleep. I stroked her beautiful locks away from her face, as I kissed her forehead.
“As do I love you, mother.”
I collapsed back onto the bed in tears, when I shortly after heard her last breath.
63 ADD
Days turn to weeks, months and eventually years. The memory of my mother’s final moments haunted me almost daily. The initial rage after my mother’s death had brought me to the point of an insane hunger for my dad’s death. Why did he deserve to live when she, who is so good had to die? But eventually, the pain and anger faded. There wasn’t anything that I could do. I was again reminded of my mother’s classic phrase. And it wasn’t fair to her, so I focused less on the negative moments and more about the positive ones. The way she would brush her hair behind her ear when she felt accomplished, the way she would admire a beautiful fabric, the golden specks in her eyes that would shine in the light or just how she radiated so much warmth.
I kept working in Intexui after she passed away because I didn’t really know where to go. It was a good enough job, that paid the bills and kept me out of trouble. I also got to keep working with fashion and clothes. I still spent all my spare time practising, observing and taking notes on what I could.
One day I was sitting at the front desk sketching away. This new fabric had come in that I had experimented with a little bit. It was aqua colored, and I was trying to find other fabrics to combined with it to create the illusion of waves. I was drawing up a way of sewing the shirt together when the door to the store opened. I looked up and there was a slightly older woman standing in front of me. I recognized her from the Hunger Games. She was one of the designers for District 2. Her face was striped yellow, orange and black with whiskers coming out the sides of her cheeks. Her hair had tight curls that were pulled back into a ponytail at the back of her head, giving the silhouette of a feline.
“Hello, I am Tigris. I am looking for Gaius?” she said. Just then he popped his head out of his workroom.
“Oh, let her in Cinna! Tigris, darling!” he said as he moved towards her. She walked around the desk and towards Gaius and they exchanged air kisses. He pulled her in with him and the door shut. The door opened again and a company of 3 walked in, two women and a young girl.
“Did you see the latest from Juan? Apparently, leather is the new sequins. Absolutely inspired.”
“Oh, tell me about it. Our cook kept getting sequins in our food, so I had to fire her! Leather should be a bit harder to mix into the veal lasagna.”
“I don’t know though, these avoxes can be quite stupid, I must say. Did you hear about…” They continued chattering on as they looked around the shop. Finally, they came up to me.
“How much is this?” they asked as they showed me some fine black leather.
“That would be 50 dollars a yard madam,” I answered.
“Wow, well then we can’t have that. Do you have something in a higher price range? You know more, exclusive?” she said and winked at me. I moved into the store and started going through and showing them all the different kinds of leather we had. After settling on the one that was 120 dollars a yard we moved back to the front desk. There was Tigris looking at my sketchbook. I rushed over, closed it and put it to the side.
“Sorry,” I said. Tigris moved to the side and let me pass. As a measured up the fabric and charge the woman for it, I could feel her gaze. As the woman left the store, she came up to me.
“What kind of fabric are you thinking for your design?” she asked. I little bit surprised I pulled out the aqua colored chiffon out from the counter. She looked at it and then said:
“Chiffon is a hard fabric to work with. First of all, if you want the effect of more movement, I would suggest having a white base, something sturdier like cotton.” She moved in closer and grabbed my sketchbook. “May I?” she said. I nodded. “You’re thinking a little too narrow. Instead of sowing things so much into place consider doing more layers with different lengths of fabric under one overlapping piece of fabric.” She turned to a new page and drew a slightly different version of my dress. She then put the pen down, grabbed a pair of scissors and went into the store. She came back with four different colored fabrics that all complimented each other. She put them all in the book and stamped them into place.
“Thank you,” I said. Right then Gaius came out of his workroom.
“Cinna, Tigris and I are going out to dinner. Lock up the store at closing time.” And then the walked away, not looking back. When they had gone, I opened up my book again and looked at what she had drawn. I got a new page and redrew the dress, adding the ideas she had suggested. That way would provide less room for mistakes with the sewing and would perhaps create a better illusion. The following days I worked on the dress for the next few days and made adjustments until I had achieved the perfect result.
This happened several times in the months and years that followed. Ever so often Tigris would come into the store to see Gaius and at the same time, she would offer me bits of knowledge that helped my technique and look at my end results. She convinced me to sell the clothes I make to her grandmother, who owns a clothing store. Eventually, she stopped coming by. I didn’t know why, and I never would. One day, however, as I was working one of my all-night-open shifts I had an older gentleman come in with a woman looking for me.
“I was at this dinner with my father’s colleagues, when I saw the most divine dress on one of the past victors. And I said to my papa that I simply must have it. And so, we asked her where she got it and she shared that she had gotten it from this little shop just two blocks from here! We hunted the place down and they told us that the designer worked here. And here we are!” The woman beamed at me and the elderly gentleman reached out his hand.
“So, what do you say boy? Care to help us out?” I took his hand.
“Of course. What will it be?”
After that, I had people coming in from time to time. Not a lot of people wanted to share where they got their one of a kind outfit, in fear of someone copying them, but ever so often I would get new customers come in and request their various different clothing ideas and I got to put all my knowledge into practice. I felt myself discovering more and more who I was as I drowned myself in work. I found my peaceful mind space. I still remember one morning when I got into work and I had three orders to finish by the end of the day, I saw a golden pen on the floor of the store. I picked it up and looked at it. It reminded me of the golden specks in my mother’s eyes. Oh, how I wished that I could see her again, just to talk to her one more time and to hear her say she’s proud of me. I wanted to look into her eyes again and find the reassurance that together we could do anything. I walked towards a mirror took of the lid of the pen and drew a straight line across my lash line on both eyes. I backed up and looked at myself in the mirror. Dark hair, black pants, black shirt and the gold eyeliner. It was a good look.
74 ADD
I was finishing up the last piece of hemming on the late-night order I had received the night before when the doorbell rang. I placed the last pin in the neckline and put the dress down. When I walked out into the store there was a woman standing looking at the newly arrived fabrics.
“Welcome to Intexui, can I assist you in any way today madam?”
The woman turned around and smiled. She couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than me. She had a light purple wig on that was cut to a short bob with a fringe on the front. Darker skin, almost like mine, a dark silvery jumpsuit with boots to match. A very nice-looking outfit.
“Thank you and not madam, it’s Portia,” she said and reached out her hand.
“Cinna.” I grabbed her hand and shook it. She turned around, doing a fast glance at the store.
“I am looking for an organza fabric, I’m thinking maybe green or turquoise. Do you happen to have anything of that category?”
“We do, as a matter of fact, I have some on hand if you’ll just hold on for a moment.” I went back to the back and got a few samples for her and brought them out. She grabbed them and started scanning them, pulling them a bit and holding them up to the light.
“I am not sure which one I like better. It’s hard to tell what this light green one would look like with layers towards the light. How’s it sewing with it?”
“Let me grab a sample from the back,” I said and then went into my workroom and grabbed the dress that I had been working on. I brought back and laid it in front of her. Her eyes widened a little bit and she picked it up gently. She spent a good minute just looking at the dress. She looked up at me and said:
“Who made this?”
“That would be me,” I answered. Her smile widened.
“Well, it’s beautiful. It’s really a fine piece. Where did you study?”
“Oh, I learned most of it from the store, some books, and by practice. You meet a lot of people in these kinds of places who are eager to share their wisdom and knowledge,” I said waving my hand around the room. I couldn’t help myself from thinking of Tigris.
“That very well maybe, but Cinna, raw talent isn’t something you pass down. It’s something you’re born with.” She put the dress gently back on the countertop. She then picked up the bright turquoise fabric and handed it to me.
“Can I have 10 yards of this please?” I took it out of her hand and started measuring the fabric. This gave me some time to just let the compliment sink in. I felt like I had gotten loads of praise over the year but for some reason, this situation really stood out. And then I realized that it carried the same kind of spirit as something that my mother would have said. I am what I make myself. I folded the fabric up nicely and placed it in a bag and handed it over to Portia. She took it and started to walk away. She then came back up to me.
“So, I just got hired for the hunger games as a stylist. I still have the guy’s number if you are interested.”
“I don’t know. That whole spectacle isn’t really my scene,” I answered. She opened up her bag and pulled out a card and handed it to me.
“Well, here is his number in case you change your mind. Could be your opportunity to make a mark.” She then turned around and walked out of the door.
After I finished work, I walked home in deep thought as I held the card in my jacket pocket. If there was anything in this world that was against everything I believed in, it was the Hunger Games. But it was those last words that Portia uttered that made me think. As I walked through the door, headed to the living room and turned on the TV. I took the remote control and flicked through different TV shows until I landed on last years broadcast of the Hunger Games. I hadn’t watched it of course, not after the 50th. But I wanted to see something with my own eyes. I started going through the reaping segments. When I got to district 12, I observed what was happening. As they called out the name of the scrawny girl, I could see the fear in her eyes as she moved towards the stage. I saw the same kind of fear in the lanky boy. As the reaping was over, I observed as the peacekeepers took these two children by the arm and guided them into the building behind them. Words from my mother’s story of her night at the mansion popped out in my mind. Being overcome by fear, not having a choice and my dad grabbing her arm pulling her towards the moment that would change her life forever. All survivors. I turned off the TV and walked up to the phone and dialled the number on the card.
The following day I took the train into the Gold Circle, the centre of the Capitol to meet up with Seneca Crane. I had brought all of my sketches and some of my finished products that were yet to be picked up at the store. As I walked into the building the word luxury came into mind. Huge marble walls stretching up for hundreds of meters. I walked up the front desk and gave my name and was directed to the 15th floor. As I was moving up the elevator, I was running through what I was going to say in the meeting. When I arrived, I was directed into what seemed like an office. Sitting behind a big white desk sat a man with a beard that had a very intricate pattern. He was wearing a bright red suit and was preoccupied with writing on a piece of paper.
“Come in and have a seat,” he said without looking away from what he was doing. As I sat down, he collected everything on his desk into a pile and put it to the side. “I’m Seneca. I believe that you brought your portfolio?” he said and reached out his hand. I opened up my bag and pulled out a book, to put in his hand, and then spread everything else out on the table. Seneca spent about 15 minutes in silence looking through my sketchbook and picking up the different pieces of clothing. Finally, he closed the book and put everything down on the table.
“You obviously have talent, and I can see here that you have worked with some good people. We like that. Tell me, why do you want this job?” I thought about it for a second. I had to really think about how I could phrase my answer.
“I feel like I have more to offer. And I would like the chance to prove that, to show people what I can do with the simplest of things,” I answer him. Seneca looks at me closely and leans back in his chair.
“I agree with you. However, you are a newcomer, so we don’t have much to offer in terms of the districts.”
“Okay, well, if you’ll permit me, I’d like request district 12.” He smiled and stood up.
“Request granted. Welcome to the Hunger Games Cinna.” he replied as he shook my hand.
It had been two months since I had gotten the job to work in the Hunger Games. Shortly after the interview, I got to meet my fellow stylist, which just so happened to be Portia. We got started right away on brainstorming different ideas for the opening ceremony outfit, just so that we would be prepared. On the day of the reaping Portia and I came together to watch together at the tributes we would be designing for. One by one we watched the tributes for the different districts being selected. I couldn’t help but notice how cold some of them looked. Like they had lost their souls. My heart broke when I witnessed a young twelve-year-old girl get reaped from district 11. However, the real showstopper of the entire reaping was district 12. I watched as Effie Trinket took to the stage and pulled the name for the girl. This year it seemed to be another small twelve-year-old girl. I started taking notes on her, but then suddenly there was a scream from the crowd. A slightly older girl had thrown herself in front of the first girl and screamed that she was volunteering. The little girl was lifted away by another boy as this girl took to the stage. It was shared that she was the older sister. Following this, there was an odd cut in the footage and it jumped straight to the reaping of the boy. A blond-haired, strong built boy walked up on the stage. Finally, they shook hands before they were taken into the building behind them. As the screening finished, I couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. A scrawny, brown-haired girl that had not volunteered for the sake of glory, but to save her sister. I wrote down: Tell prep team to leave her hair as is. I looked up at the screen again and rewound back to the moment she threw herself in front of her sister. The honest terror in her eyes, but also the heat. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. This girl, I thought, she’s got fire.
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Not His Queen (part 5 of 6) | Roan x OC
[GIF not mine]
✎ Requested by @selldraug : “Roan has a lover even if he’s going to get married to Y/N. His future wife doesn’t like this and shit happens”
✎ A/N: the angst this story puts on me, my gosh... Also, this is the second to last chapter. And everything happening was frigging requested by Claudia and I don’t know how she can come up with so many evil things.
✎ Fandom: The 1OO. Pairing: Roan x Reader
✎ Warnings: angst. Cheating + super light mentions of sexual acts. Pain. Self-harm (at the end, like the four/five last paragraphs).
Word-count: 4641
Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part six
A couple of weeks had passed and Aletheia couldn’t say she didn’t like her new married life. Sure, Roan was sometimes busy with him being King and all, but all in all, she was enjoying it. He waited for her to wake up before he left their bed, he cuddled her after sex, he even unbraided her hair when she was particularly lucky.
And when he felt particularly good, they even had sweet sex. He drove her crazy before making her cum, but at least she didn’t wake up the morning after sore like hell, her body covered in bruises and love bites for everybody to see.
He had even stopped sneaking out at night to go to that damn whore and, once more, Lethe had deluded herself into thinking he had finally put a stop to that story, that now she was the only woman in his life.
She had started to hope again, to dream of a better future and to dream of home.
With Nia dead, she even went back to training and she was pleased to notice that she hadn’t forgotten a thing in that year she had spent captive in Azgeda. She still had things to learn and her aim faltered sometimes, but she had always been quick at learning and she was sure she’d be able to fix her little problems in no time.
Echo had taken the duty of teaching her and those hours they spent together tasted like home, like childhood. They had always used to train together as kids and to fight until the night fell and they couldn’t almost see their own faces anymore. And that’s what they still did now.
Sometimes Roan joined them and when he did, Echo always left after a while and Roan always found a way to sneak in her pants and to make her forget about her duties. He always made sure to make her lose her focus on the training and to push it towards what was to come. Lethe didn’t believe in miracles, they belonged to fairy tales and she didn’t believe in fairy tales anymore. But sometimes, when she thought about how nobody had walked up on them having sex yet, she thought that maybe little miracles happen, at times.
And with each passing day, Anka’s name started to fade in her memory and soon - sooner than it was actually good - she started to think that that woman was just a bad dream she had one night.
“Aletheia,” Roan’s voice brought her to the present and her eyes snapped into his direction. “Did you hear what I said?” he asked and only in that moment, she realized he was holding the reins of her horse.
“What are you doing with Atlas?” Her brows furrowed as she tried to take the reins from her husband’s hands.
“Sen in*,” he sighed, taking a hold of her hand to stop her. “I need you to go with the ambassadors for Skaikru, to take them to wherever they live. Keep an eye on them while they gather the medicaments and Clarke’s mother.”
Aletheia stared at him for a while and when she managed to answer, her ‘no’ sounded more like a question. “You have guards for this, why send me? I don’t even like these people, Roan. I might just lose my shit and do some damage to this stupid coalition. Send Echo, she’s better than me at dealing with people.”
Roan’s eyebrows rose and he tried not to laugh. “You might be right about the fact that you don’t like them, but I’m not sure how better Echo is than you.” He pushed her closer to the horse and made her turn so that the Sky People waiting for her wouldn’t be able to catch up what they were saying. “You’re the only person I trust, niron*,” he insisted. “Just go and keep an eye out, and when you come back you tell me everything. I have Lexa to keep calm and Ontari to stop from doing damage. Just go and behave, you will be back with them in no time.”
Lethe wanted to answer back, but she couldn’t find it in herself. The night they got married she had made herself a promise: not to put up a fight with him, to just take him as he was without pushing him beyond his limits for she didn’t want to get hurt again.
“We will stay in bed all day when you’re back,” he promised, his fingers caressing the side of her neck, brushing lightly at one of her love bites. “Just go and be a good girl.”
She snorted and hopped on the horse. “If this is one of your tricks, you’d better get ready ‘cause I’m in no mood to babysit these space monkeys,” she warned him.
Roan chuckled and gripped her ankle for a second before letting her go. “No trick, I promise.”
And even in that moment, she believed him. She didn’t want to think that he was hiding something, that somehow he still had sex with someone else. They were married now, how could he even have eyes for other women? She tried hard to convince herself and even though she didn’t fully manage to do so, she made herself believe in the lies she told herself.
The ride to the caves Skaikru called ‘home’ - or to whatever place they lived in - started off quiet. The boy with curly hair was talking to the other man, someone who could have been her father and was chuckling.
Sickening, she shook her head. She couldn’t find in herself the strength or the motivation to like those people. She should have been grateful since it was thanks to them that Roan was back, but with these Sky People in the coalition, things could just turn into shit in a matter of seconds. Not many people liked them back in Polis, she was sure of this since her sister had ears everywhere, and she was scared by the possibility of some kind of war.
“So,” the man spoke up, turning to look at her on her horse. She was starting to feel uncomfortable, being the only one riding, but she was trying to brush that feeling off her shoulders. “You will be Queen soon if I’m not mistaken. Shouldn’t you be surrounded by guards?”
Lethe snorted - as if she wasn’t able to care for herself! But she didn’t reply. She wasn’t in the mood and she was still pissed at having to babysit grown up kids. If they had managed to land on Earth after leaving space and to survive, there was no need for them to need her to escort them home.
But the two men and Clarke kept staring at her and she sighed. “No, I don’t need guards. And yes, I will be Queen, but this doesn’t mean I need a babysitter.”
No one spoke after those words and the four of them enjoyed the calm of the woods, the trees shielding the sunlight above their heads.
Lethe had started to relax and to slip into an almost trance. It was just something that always happened to her ever since she was a kid: riding her horse, surrounded by peace… it just emptied her mind from all thoughts, calming her. She let the horse’s movements lull her until she almost fell asleep in the saddle.
But then Clarke had to ruin everything. “Why did you want to come with us? It doesn’t seem like you like us.”
Lethe shrugged her shoulders and fixed her posture. “Well, I’m glad I don’t have to fake,” she smirked. “And I didn’t want to come. Roan just made me go with you.”
The younger man, probably Bellamy but she didn’t spend much time trying to learn their names, frowned. “Well, that’s not what Roan told us,” he confessed, stopping in his tracks.
“What do you mean?” Aletheia was starting to feel sick in her stomach again. She made Atlas come to a stop and fought the urge to jump down the horse.
Bellamy shrugged his shoulders just like she had. “He said you were going to accompany us to Arkadia.”
“To what?”
“The place we live in,” the older man specified. “He said you wanted to come along to protect us.”
“Are you lying?” Lethe could feel her heart start to sink again. Had she agreed to do that? She didn’t remember saying ‘yes’ to such a stupid idea. Had Roan lied? Was he still lying to her?
Clarke shook her head. “I was kind of surprised since it’s obvious we make you sick, so we were just wondering.”
“He told you I wanted to come?” She was speechless. How could he lie? To what benefit?
But then something in her mind clicked. He hadn’t sneaked out on her, but he had just waited for the right moment.
She barely heard the three Sky People scream her name behind her while Atlas flew through the forest, the animal’s hooves barely touching the ground. Her head was pounding and she felt like vomiting.
Theia just prayed for it to just be a stupid thought. She had won his heart back, he was hers now and she was his. They had sworn loyalty and love to each other until the end of time. This had to be her mind playing tricks on her.
The horse hadn’t stopped yet when she literally jumped off its running form, landing on the concrete street. It hadn’t been a particularly happy landing and a pebble had opened a little hole in the palm of her right hand, but she didn’t pay much attention to it.
She entered the tower like a fury and pushed her way to the lift.
The way up seemed endless. She tried not to think, to convince herself she was wrong, that he was alone, that that fucking Anka was dead somewhere, but the sickness in her stomach wouldn’t leave and it was spreading to her whole body. Her lungs hurt and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Tears were like stings in her eyes and her throat felt drier than a desert while she couldn’t but swallow air.
When the doors to her floor finally opened, she ran past the guards and down the familiar corridor that led to her bedroom - to their bedroom. If he was with her, Lethe hoped that he hadn’t brought a whore in their bed.
But when Roan’s guards tried to stop her and her brain finally managed to function again, she picked up noises that almost made her throw up.
Lethe closed her eyes for a moment, trying to get in control of her body, but to no avail. She was just too damn tired. She thought it had stopped, that Roan had managed to keep his stupid prick inside his dirty pants. How could she be such a fool? How could she believe him?
When she opened her eyes again, one of the guards had almost managed to grab her arm. But Aletheia could be all but stupid: in a second, the two short swords she had on her back were in her hands and she was ready for some blood.
She was tired of cheating and of stupid guards trying to stop her, to hurt her, to push her behind when she had all the right in the world to be on the front line.
She kicked one of the two men in the stomach before suddenly turning around and piercing the other guard’s throat until the point of the sword clanged against the wall behind him. Lethe wasn’t fast enough: when a hand grabbed her hair from behind and yanked her back, she almost threw up right then and there. Her head smashed against the wall on the other side of the door and she had to shake it a few times before her sight went back to normal.
“The King said no one enters,” the man growled, checking on his friend.
“I am his damn wife,” Aletheia retorted, hissing a little went she took a step forward and her head ached. “I will be your Queen. You can’t keep me out of my room.”
The man didn’t waste time to answer her: he lunged forward and this time Lethe was lucky enough to dodge his fists and to slide to the side. She kicked him behind his left knee and in a blink of an eye, he was kneeling next to her. This time he didn’t have the time to react: the pommel of Lethe’s sword hit hard on his head before the blade fell hard on his neck, cutting it halfway through. Blood was gushing out of the cut and the girl’s face turned red before she could even move away.
Gurgling sounds were slipping out of the guard’s lips and Aletheia didn’t know whether those sounds were real or just a figment of her imagination. She didn’t stop to check: she rose her sword once more and before she could tell it was over, the man’s head fell to the ground and rolled a few inches away from the body before it collapsed in front of her.
A sob escaped her lips for the sounds sneaking out from under the door made her stomach turn in her body.
Did she deserve this? And if she did, what had she done to deserve it?
She picked the head up by its hair and kicked the door open.
“Roan!” she sang and made the head roll inside. Were she in another situation, she’d laugh at her gesture.
She knew she didn’t have to look, but she also wanted to print that image inside her head to stop herself from trusting him ever again.
A brunette girl was riding him, her back and arms covered in black tattoos. The blood in her veins started to boil at the thought that he had never allowed her to ride him like that whore was doing now.
What did she have? Bigger boobs? Longer hair? Was it really because of that that Roan had felt the need to fuck someone else?
The two had stopped what they were doing, but Lethe could still hear their elaborated breaths.
Roan’s hands were still on the girl’s hips and Aletheia thought she was finally standing in presence of that damn whore. Anka’s hands were on his chest, his dick still inside her.
Lethe was ready to kill. Really, she was, and she would have if she didn’t bend in half to vomit her breakfast. Her swords fell to the ground with a clanging sound when Roan suddenly pushed the girl off of him.
She vaguely heard him shuffling, but she was too busy trying to stand on her legs while she straightened her back. When she opened her eyes again, Roan was right in front of her, trying to grab her hands, but she had enough of his shit. She threatened him with one of her swords not to get closer, but he wouldn’t listen and he inevitably got cut. For the first time since they had met, Lethe’s heart was too dead to care.
When Anka burst out laughing and Lethe feared she was going to lose it, she let her sword fall, turned around abruptly and sprinted in the direction from which she had come.
She still felt like vomiting, and she still felt like dying. And she still felt like killing her lying husband and his damn bitch, but as of now, her head hurt too much to even think.
Aletheia almost tripped while getting into the elevator, but she somehow managed to keep her balance. Anka’s laugh kept ringing in her ears, fueling her anger.
This time she reached the main floor in no time, almost as though the elevator knew she was in a hurry and that Roan might have taken the stairs to reach her. And so she didn’t stop when she got out of the building. She ran on trembling legs, her knees threatening to give out, and with her stomach up in her throat she made her way towards the doors of the city and the direction the Sky People had taken.
Where the heck was she going? What would she do?
She felt her own tears threatening to fall from her eyes and to blind her, but she didn’t want to cry for him, not anymore. He had promised and she had caught him with his dick up her cunt and she was not going to forgive him, she was not going to cry for her broken heart and for him.
Then, suddenly, from a far, someone was running towards her and this time Aletheia let the tears stream for she knew it wasn’t him. She didn’t care that Clarke was suddenly clutching her, that she had hated that girl for coming from space.
“Aletheia?” Clarke was calling her but her knees were finally giving out, content to finally have someone to lean on to. As soon as Lethe’s forehead made contact with Clarke’s shoulder, her knees bent and she fell to the ground, eyes rolled back in her head, color gone from her face.
Suddenly, everything had gone black.
It was almost like swimming, like that time when Aletheia and Echo had gone skinny dipping near the southern Azgeda border. It was a year before meeting Roan and they had left home to have some sister time. The lake’s water looked dark even in the sunlight and the two girls hadn’t hesitated and had jumped.
Waking up that day felt almost like coming back to the surface of that lake. The water had felt heavy all around her, almost as though it was more than just water. Her lungs felt the freedom before her eyes had: she took a big gulp of air as she had done those many years ago and then her eyes opened wide on their own accord.
The first thing she felt was the pain in her lungs, slowly spreading to her whole body and to her hammering head. Then, the sense of touch came back and the back of her hands felt furs underneath them.
She could smell the rain and slowly its tapping sound tickled her eardrums. It felt good, she felt at home, but it wasn’t Roan’s home or Nia’s. It was the home she had in that village up in the mountains, where she grew up alongside with Echo after being adopted when she was nine years old. It was the same smell of rain, of earth coming back to life, of dust getting soaked and of wet skin. She could almost feel it on the tip of her tongue, bringing her back in time and space, making her ache for the things she had left behind for a love that was just an illusion.
It also smelled like her first home, on that island near the lighthouse. She still remembered the day she had left it after her parents had been killed: it was raining buckets and she could smell the woods avidly drinking every drop while she reached the mainland.
And then, suddenly, her sight went back to focus and she found herself staring at a well-known ceiling. She jolted up in a sitting position, nausea filling her.
She felt dirty: she could almost feel Roan and Anka’s arousal on her skin and on her clothes and she felt the impulse to vomit.
“Don’t move,” but her ears couldn’t pick up Clarke’s words, too busy replaying her husband and his whore’s moans and grunts. She could almost hear the sound of skin slapping against skin as she stood up, the room spinning around her like a top.
Lethe felt like crying again, like tearing her own skin off her body.
“Calm down, Aletheia!” Clarke insisted, grabbing her by her shoulders and trying to make her sit on the bed again.
But Lethe was weeping and weakly fighting against her. “Not there,” she managed to beg. “Not on that bed.”
Clarke had somehow managed to drag her to sit on a chair because she didn’t remember walking. Kneeling in front of her, her hands clutching at her own, the Sky girl was trying to calm her down, to make her reason.
“What happened?” Aletheia’s head was spinning like the room she was in. She could only remember that scene and herself running away and out of the building.
“You fainted,” Clarke explained. “You’ve been knocked out for a few hours, but you should be okay, even if a little undernourished. We’ve run tests-”
“Tests? What kind of tests?” Theia was starting to stress out like she always did and she yanked her hands away from the girl’s.
Clarke smiled. “To see if you’re sick or something. We didn’t know you were a natblida.”
“You can’t tell anyone, Spacegirl.” The last thing she needed was for more people to know about her blood, that same blood she had spent a lifetime hiding.
“That’s not what concerns us,” the girl smiled again, a toothy smile that creeped Lethe out. “You’re with child.”
For a second or two the world stopped, the rain paralyzed mid-air. Even her heart skipped a beat before those three words hit her like her jailors had a year before. Lethe barely had the time to turn her head to the right to let her insisting nausea out. If she had a soul, Aletheia was now sure she had puked it out.
“I’m sorry, what?” she questioned once she was sure her stomach wouldn’t give up on her again like that, tears streaming down her sweaty cheeks. “Why does life hate me so much?” she mumbled, a sob already forming in the back of her hoarse throat.
Clarke frowned. “What? I told you you’re pregnant, not that you’re dying…”
Lethe’s expression turned mad. “The second option would’ve sounded a lot better to me.”
“What is Roan doing to you?” the girl demanded, but the sounds of commotion coming from outside made both girls’ heads turn.
Before she knew it, Clarke had passed Lethe a dagger and had left to go see what was happening. But Aletheia could imagine it: Roan was throwing a tantrum because he had ‘every right to see my damn wife’.
She patiently waited, a hand resting on her tummy from above her shirt. The weapon in her other hand, an idea was slowly forming in her head, an idea she knew she was not going to regret even if she should.
And then, suddenly, the doors of the bedroom were closed again and Roan was standing right in front of her at the other side of the room.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, getting closer. He looked a little sick, but Lethe knew it was just a play to win her back for she wasn’t able to say ‘no’ to him.
“Don’t get near me,” she warned him, still sitting, the dagger pointing at him. He didn’t stop though, even though he knew how good she was at throwing knives, he didn’t stop. “Was this your idea of cuddling in bed after I got back to my senses? Me sleeping over her cum?”
“Lethe…” Roan sighed and held his hands high, showing her his palms. “I gave you all you wanted. We’re married now, we’re happy. I’m yours. What more do you want?”
How could he not understand it?
How could he not see it?
Was he even the same Roan she had fallen in love with?
“All you gave me was a fucking lie!” she yelled. “And if that’s all you have to offer then I don’t want it. You can give it to her!” Aletheia was doing her best at holding back her tears, but some slipped down her cheeks anyway.
Roan took a step forward and tried to grab her wrist.
“No!” she screamed, her grip on the dagger becoming stronger. “You either understand this or you leave.”
“Look, I am the King,” he pointed out, anger flashing in his eyes. “And I’ll do as I please. I love you, niron, I truly do, but I won’t leave Anka. She was there during my banishment and you weren’t.”
Was he joking? Was he really that dumb? “I don’t know if you listened to me, but I was being tortured! Sorry I couldn’t escape to tend to your fucking dick!”
She didn’t care whether people heard them fighting. She was done, so done with his shit and with everybody’s shit. Even with her own shit. She just wanted it to stop, but everyone felt like keeping that fucking show running.
“What fucking more do you want from me then?” he yelled and his voice ringed so angry that she flinched.
But this time, she was not going to bow down before him, she was not going to wipe the ground on which he walked. “Nothing,” she replied, dagger still between them.
They stared at each other for endless minutes. She was sure he was not going to ask her what had happened. Just like he was not going to give her a valid explanation for his behavior. He was just getting away with it because he was the damn King and all that shit. And she just wanted him to eat all that shit.
“You’re not even going to ask why I fainted?” She cocked her head to the side, lowering the dagger a little. She stared into his eyes and she saw nothing. It was like all he had felt for her once was now gone, swallowed up by that whore’s mouth. “You’re not even interested in knowing that I’m expecting your child?”
Roan’s lips parted in surprise and his hands fell to his sides. For the briefest of moments his eyes sparked up and she saw the Roan she had fallen in love with one last time.
“A kid? My kid?” he stuttered, trying to get closer again.
But she wouldn’t let him nearer. “Last time I checked I didn’t have someone else’s dick up my vagina,” she pointed out, a psychotic smile on her face. “I’m not like you.”
But it was as though he hadn’t heard her words. “We’re having a kid?” His voice trembled in joy and Lethe could see it in his eyes, in the way his back had straightened.
“Are you happy?”
Roan frowned. “Of course I am!” And to prove his words, he kneeled in front of her, grabbed her gently by her hips and kissed her tummy from above the shirt.
“Well, this is good,” she smiled, lifting the hem of her shirt and caressing her belly, her skin almost as fair as her hair. “Because I’m gonna take it away from you.”
And with those words she stood, Roan still paralyzed in his kneeling position. Lethe smiled at him again, one last time, and this once she was happy because it felt like freeing herself from him for good.
Before thinking twice, she had the dagger in the abdomen and Roan was screaming for help while she fell on the ground, her smile still on her lips.
“Crazy bitch,” he groaned, his hands around the dagger.
He didn’t stand up not even when Clarke and Lexa entered the room and hurried him to move, to give them space. He just grabbed Clarke’s wrist and squeezed it tight. “Can you save them?” He tried to hide the worried note of his voice, but couldn’t.
It was all his fault and he should’ve seen it coming.
“I will do my best,” Clarke answered, but ‘her best’ wasn’t enough for Roan. It couldn’t be enough for Roan.
“Please,” he begged, insisting, praying he’d get a chance to love her like she deserved.
Sein in: listen
Niron: love, loved one
TAGLIST (if you want to be added/removed just let me know): @selldraug @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @sylveonfx98 @crazynychick @jaib2-blog @axobrain
#roan#roan imagine#roan imagines#roan of azgeda#roan of azgeda imagine#king roan#king roan imagine#roan kom azgeda#king roan kom azgeda#roan fanfic#roan fanfiction#king roan fanfic#king roan fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#imagine#imagines#the 100#the 100 cw#the hundred#the hundred imagine#the 100 imagine#the 100 imagines#the 100 fanfic#the 100 fanfiction#the hundred fanfic#the hundred fanfiction#clarke griffin#lexa#commander lexa
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For Asgard (Chapter 18/?)
Coulson arranges for you to be escorted to wherever they're keeping Loki captive. It's only one guard taking you there but he is a pretty burly fellow, perhaps the biggest guy aboard this helicarrier. You closely follow the guy until he stops outside what you believe to be your destination. When the door slides open you expect him to stay glued to you while in the presence Loki. While in actuality, the opposite happens.
“You have five minutes. Agent Romanoff is already in there interrogating the prisoner. She'll keep an eye on you.” You weren't certain whether that meant “she'll keep you safe from him” or “she'll make sure you don't try anything stupid.”
Slowly you enter the room where S.H.I.E.L.D. has imprisoned Loki. The cell he's in is much smaller and less luxurious than the one you shared on Asgard. Then again, no prison would be as nice as that one. Were you seriously grading prison cells on their interior decor? This one was circular with windows all around. What is it with people and their giant windows in prison cells, anyway?
You can hear Loki talking to someone. When you look up and to the right, there's the red-headed agent you remember piloting the plane. Romanoff. Apparently, they didn't hear you enter the room. Keeping this to your advantage, you move into the shadows and into earshot to hear her voice. It is level, yet demanding.
“I want to know what you've done to Agent Barton,” she says.
“I would say I have expanded his mind,” Loki responds like he's doing everyone a favour. That's an interesting way to put it, you think. Redhead approaches his cell, face expressionless. You can tell she cares about Birdman, but damn is she good at keeping her face neutral. Her arms cross.
“Once you've won, once you're king of the mountain, what happens to his mind?” She moves up close to the glass between them. For some reason you can't place, you don't like this small action very much.
“Is this love, Agent Romanoff?” Loki teases.
“Love is for children. I owe him a debt.”
Wow, hardcore. You wonder what she would think if she knew how much Loki and you love each other. You two might as well be the biggest children here, then. He laughs at her words and backs away.
“Tell me,” he insists, suddenly appearing interested in her supposed debts. A quick look of hesitation breaks through across her face but disappears just as quickly. She goes on to tell her life story of before she worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. From what you gather from Redhead's vague story, she implies she was an assassin. That and Birdman was sent to take her out, to kill her, but ended up not following through. When Loki asks what she'll do if he spares Birdman, she says she won't let Loki out, and you didn't expect her to anyway. But Loki has that look in his eye. You've seen it before. Like he's the cat who spots a mouse just sitting there, and it's playtime.
Redhead says she wants to turn over a new leaf. To wipe out the red in her proverbial ledger. Loki, of course, questions her ability to do so.
“Drakov's daughter... Sao Paolo. The hospital fire.”
That did it.
You don't know what any of this means, but his choice in words did the trick. She's tensed up and has wide eyes full of frozen fright.
“Barton told me everything,” he confesses. “Your ledger is dripping.” Loki approaches the window and his voice grows stronger, more powerful. “It is gushing red, and you think saving a man who is no more virtuous than yourself will change anything? This is the basis sentimentality, this is a child of prayer, pathetic,” he spits out. “You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, have your own code. Something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you. And they will never. Go. Away.” Loki slams his fist against the window and Redhead flinches, something you thought her body wasn't capable of doing. You watch all this in silent awe, mouth just a little agape.
“I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you. Slowly, intimately, in every way, he knows you fear. And then he will wake just long enough to see his good work and when he screams I'll split his skull.” Redhead turns in fear and horror and walks a few steps. “This is my bargain, you mewling quim.”
You sit there, hand to your mouth. Is he serious? You hope and wish and pray that this is still just a part of the stupid godforsaken plan. That this is all still an act. Because, yeah sure, he has to look the part of a villain right? That was a part of it? The plan you know nothing about and yet are still told to trust him blindly in what he's doing. But he must know what he's doing, you're sure of it. Loki's evil villain act has been good. Far too good. You almost believed it there for a second.
“You're a monster,” Redhead says quietly, in a small voice. Loki laughs.
“Oh no, you brought the monster.”
She lifts her head and turns around to face him with a look of sudden realization. “So, Banner? That's your play?”
What play? Who's Banner, now?
“What?” Loki says, confused for once.
“Loki means to unleash the Hulk,” Redhead speaks into her wrist. “Thank you for your cooperation,” she says to him smugly and turns to leave. Did Loki just get played?
“No...” he says unbelievingly.
Redhead makes her way to the exit in your direction but you remain hidden in the shadows of an alcove near the door. When the coast is clear, you rush up the steps two at a time and place your hands against the glass prison. Loki turns to see you and is surprised, you think, to see you at a time like this. He moves closer to you, and in return presses his own hands to the window.
“My darling,” he says fervently. “Oh, how glad I am to see you.”
“And I'm glad to see you, too. Only it'd be nicer if you were out of this thing. With me.”
“I could not agree with you more.”
You hear a loud blast and feel the floor beneath you tilt somewhat. You have to grab hold of the railing to regain balance.
“What was that?” you ask looking around the room for clues.
“It would seem the vessel has been shot.” Alarms sound off in the distance outside the prison room. The floor remains at a slant and you feel as if you're inside a carnival funhouse. Except this is not at all fun. Not in the slightest.
And then, reverberating through the vents above, there's a noise that causes the hair on your arms to stand up and make your insides churn. A horribly angry roar.
That's when Loki's lips curl into that smile that only speaks of trouble to follow.
“Loki, god damn it, what is happening? What were you saying to the Redhead earlier about a monster? Who's Banner? And how do you know all that stuff about her? How- no, what do you know about these people?” It all comes pouring out now, you can't stop it. “I've been trying my hardest to stay in the dark here, to let you be the mastermind with all the secrets, but I can't take it anymore! Please, please, tell me something. I'm so confused about everything and I just need to know.”
Loki looks at you with empathy in his twinkling green eyes. “I know this has hurt you, my darling, and it pains me to see you in such a state. Ask me whatever you like and I shall provide your answers.”
“Truthfully?”
“To you? Always. But first, we are in great danger. Therefore, my sweet, before I tell you what you wish to hear, you must help me out of this cell.”
“Yes, of course.” You shake your head with understanding. If this massive flying base is going down, you'll need to free your beloved. Your burning questions can wait just a little longer. After all, you'd rather your questions be burning than yourself. “What do you need me to do?”
“Do you recall the route the guards brought us before we were split up?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“They are keeping my sceptre in the laboratory which we passed upon entering this aircraft. Do you remember the room of which I speak?”
You pull up the image of it in your head. When you had passed that lab, Loki had given the curly haired man inside a funny look.
“I do. I remember.”
“Good. You must retrieve the sceptre for me, my love. Without it, our defence and safety weakens greatly.”
“I'll be back. Hold on!” The ground shakes again, this time with more force. You work up a nice jog once you make it to the hallways of the helicarrier again. Men in uniforms run by you without a second glance. You assume they're probably too busy trying to figure out a way to keep this flying base up in the air and not in a billion pieces smashed on the ground. That makes you feel a little relief. They have their own mission right now and so do you. According to your calculations, the lab shouldn't be much farther-
There it is. You see the weapon in the window up ahead, the whole room turned faintly blue from the stone's growing brightness. It appears the door had been blasted open. An explosion, you deduce, from the shards of glass across the floor. You run to the sceptre and grasp it from the table it sits upon.
Your heart beats rapidly as you stare at it and move your fingers across its golden shaft. This is the first time you've actually held it. You think of all the things it has done, of all the things it could be capable of doing. And it's in your hands.
You need to snap yourself out of it. Leaving the lab, you make a mad dash back to the prison room, all the while avoiding falling flat on your face due to the helicarrier's extreme turbulence. But before you reach the last corner, before you're home free, a shout in a deep voice from the other end of the hallway startles you.
“(Y/N)!”
Your head whips around as you see a hugely built blond man, bewildered as to what you're doing with the sceptre in your possession. It's Thor. For a moment, you two merely stare at one another. Then, you break for it.
“Loki, I have it! I have it! Thor's coming!” you say frantically. A guard you hadn't noticed was in the room grabs you and tries to disarm you, but you aren't having any of that. You push him backwards and slam him against the wall. The man loses his bearings long enough so that you have time to tap the weapon to his chest without really weighing your options. His eyes fade to black but refocus to the colour of the stone's glow.
He is in your control.
“Open the cell door,” you command him. “And leave.” The guard has no choice but to heed your words. As the door slides open, a desperate “NO!” rings out. Thor makes a beeline to stop Loki from escaping and goes in for a tackle.
Only, he goes right through him!
An illusion...
Thor scrambles to his feet but the cell door has already closed on him. He's trapped. The real Loki appears next to you but remains facing his brother.
“Are you ever not going to fall for that?” Loki taunts. This clearly angers Thor as he smashes Mjolnir on the window, leaving a giant crack, but that, in turn, causes the latches on the cell to loosen. Please don't tell me this thing drops from the sky...
“The humans think us immortal,” Loki says with a humorous tone and walks over to the control panel. “Should we test that? Darling, come over here will you, please? Wouldn't want anything dreadful to happen to you would we, love?”
You scurry over to his side and take hold of his arm. You're beyond anxious. Is he really going to send his brother in a nose dive to the unforgiving cold hard ground? This is way beyond the prank he pulled in Asgard at Thor's coronation.
“Move away, please,” says a voice trying to sound authoritative. It's Agent Coulson. He snuck in and is holding the biggest freaking gun you have ever seen in your life. Awkwardly though, like he doesn't know exactly what he's doing with it.
Loki steps back a bit. The gun is aimed directly at him. Your heart is beating and it's out of control. Coulson, the man who was so kind to you earlier, a real genuine guy, is pointing a gun at the man you love.
“You like this?” Coulson says, inching closer. Loki looks worried. He grabs your waist and moves you out of the line of fire, which is too far away. “Even I don't know what it does.” Coulson shrugs. You figured as much. “Want to find out?” Not caring that Loki had moved you aside, you step back in front of him just as Coulson pushes a button on his weapon, lighting it up. He's about to shoot.
And then... You hear a grunt of anguish and a horrible scream. The scream was yours.
Your hands cover your mouth. Loki had suddenly appeared behind Coulson and had plunged his sceptre into his back. Only now, the sceptre is no longer in your hands. How-? His other self, his body double, his illusion was disintegrating behind you, still looking worrisome, while the real Loki let Coulson slide down the side of the wall, leaving a bloody streak as he went down.
You stand frozen with shock and refuse to accept this was happening. But it gets worse. When you finally gather a little courage to face Loki, you find him at the control panel again, with that smile. That one smile. Not the one you fell for all that time ago. No, this one gave you chills.
For the first time, you were scared. Positively terrified.
Loki's hand hovers over the daunting red button for a few moments as if he's contemplating. He and Thor exchange glares. Thor looks utterly and completely betrayed. Probably for the umpteenth time in his life. But you could feel that this was the worst of it.
Loki pushes the button and in a split second the ropes are cut, the latches give way, and Thor falls to his doom in his glass prison. You can't breathe.
“You're going to lose,” says Coulson's small, but sure voice.
“Am I?” Loki plays along.
“It's in your nature.” The agent's eyes are losing their light. His breathing shallows.
“Why do people seem to think they know my nature?” Loki says to himself, annoyed. “Your heroes are scattered. Your fleeting fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?”
“You lack conviction... and the trust in your partner.”
“I do not think I-”
BOOM.
Loki gets blasted into the wall and slumps down unconscious.
“So that's what it does.”
You have tears pooling in your eyes and you try to stay strong, but looking at the man who was so kind to you, even when you were aiding a criminal, causes you to lose it.
“Agent Coulson, it's going to be alright. I- I can't believe he-” you can't even finish your sentence, kneeling beside him. “Just hang in there. You're going to be okay.”
“Don't you worry about me. Just do me a favour, please?”
“Anything. Anything. What is it?”
“Don't lose yourself, (Y/N).” Those were his last words. You start sobbing for a man you knew for the shortest amount of time and yet he made such an impact on you. Emotions and thoughts flood through you like rushing rapids. It feels like someone zapped you with a stun gun. It's like someone ran you over with a truck and left you flattened against the pavement. You feel like you're both on the verge of a hysterical fit or completely breaking down and crumbling into a ball on the ground. This was a dream, right? A nightmare?
Please for the love of every single god, let this not be real. Your heart. It hurts. You could almost swear that you feel the cracks in it. All you have to do is think of Loki's eyes. His touch, his voice, all of it, everything from before any of this shit happened to you both, for you to fall to your knees and break down in heavy sobs.
This poor, nice man. Coulson... He had offered you your old life back. How much simpler would everything have been if you had just accepted?
You had thought Loki was putting on an act, but did he really, honestly change in the end? How could Loki have done what he did if he hadn't changed? I am an accomplice to murder. I brought him the sceptre. I opened the door... How will I live with myself after all that I've done?
You feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up to see him. Coulson's killer. Loki. A man you thought you knew, had trusted with all your heart in so many ways. But you didn't recognize him anymore. This wasn't a game, to play with people's lives this way. You felt like a fool to figure this out only now. He's quiet with his words.
“I am-”
“Don't,” you say, hardened.
“Darling, please.”
“No.”
“This aircraft will crash any time now. We have to go.” His urging means nothing to you.
“Then let it. I'm not going anywhere with you.”
“You don't mean that.”
“Oh, I mean that.” You didn't care that your voice just cracked.
“Do you not trust me?” His voice has a tinge of frustration to it. You don't answer.
“You are a monster...” you murmur so quietly, you didn't think it possible for him to hear you.
He did.
“I was trying to save you!” Loki yells at you, anger increasing and all too apparent. Something clips in your heart. And your temper.
“I don't need saving!” You feel sick. Nothing makes sense anymore. “I'm not leaving with you.” Loki's eyes narrow and in truth looks beyond scary in this moment, something you never thought you'd feel about him.
“If that is the way you feel.” He sounds angry but trying not to let it resurface. Even more, there's a tinge of the sound of his own heart breaking. Well, join the fucking club. He gets up to leave, sceptre in hand, and walks a bit with a limp.
You can't bring yourself to look at him. Even if the last glimpse of his face turns out to be him smiling grotesquely and stabbing a spear into Coulson's back, so be it. When you finally hear his footsteps leave the room, that is when you start to weep.
Part 19
Tag List: @gerardwayisapotato , @theloneavenger1995, @magellan-88
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Across the Stars - Prologue
AO3
So. This is gonna be a thing. I saw some AMAZING Gravity Falls/Star Wars artwork by @kerbabbles and was instantly inspired. kerbabbles, I hope you like what I do with this AU! Thanks also goes out to my beta reader and awesome friend @curls-and-cats!
“A long time ago, many things happened.”
She couldn’t be too sure if that’s the right way to start, it’d been too long since someone had told her a proper bedtime story, but she thought that was the way she remembered. Anyway, the little sand lizard before her didn’t seem to mind, he looked like he was listening. Or maybe he was hoping for some scraps of food from her. Well, he was out of luck on that one tonight. She promptly ignored the groaning of her own stomach and continued.
“They say it all started with someone called The Sky-Walker. A mysterious person who wandered the stars and discovered the galaxy. Some people say he even created the galaxy! That’s just wizard, don’t you think?”
The lizard blinked its glowing red eyes slowly. She took that as confirmation.
“He was the first Jedi. At least, that’s what Lee told me when I was little. He traveled all around, discovering new planets and teaching every culture how to fly and wander the stars like him, so he wouldn’t be lonely anymore!”
She couldn’t remember if that was part of the original story her friends told her, but it made sense to her. She knew a lot about loneliness. She’d grown familiar with it.
“And of course, he taught them how to be Jedi like him. He created the Jedi Order and together they kept the galaxy safe. Soon, it was all united into one big Republic and everyone lived in peace and happiness.”
She undid her hair as she spoke and let the curly, chocolate locks pool down her shoulders; combing her fingers through in search of leftover tangles. It was necessary to keep her hair up during the day, but at night when the desert heat cooled to something more bearable, she could let it out free. The night air was silent, save for the clunky but steady hum of her patched-together moisture vaporator nearby. She glanced back down to the sand, checking that her attentive audience hadn’t scurried away. He hadn’t.
“Centuries later, after the Sky-Walker’s death, some of the Jedi started to turn bad and left the Order to make their own. Nobody knows why. Some people say there was political disagreement between the Jedi Council, other people say an outside, evil force slithered into their minds and twisted their souls.”
She made sure to dramatically wiggle her fingers appropriately. The lizard before her didn’t seem that impressed. She decided she was going to name him Craz. He looked like a Craz.
“There was a huge war between the Jedi and the Dark Jedi, one that nearly tore the galaxy apart! A lot of people thought that the war would never end! Many Jedi died, but in the end, they won the battle and defeated the Dark Jedi.
“The Jedi never did recover from the war. Not really. Too many of their own died. They tried to rebuild and they still protected the Republic as best they could, but the glory days were gone and a lot of the Sky-Walker’s teachings were lost. Eventually, the Jedi Order broke apart and faded away. Some say that there’s still small groups of them out there, still trying to pass on their knowledge. Maybe one day, they’ll rise again to become the protectors of the galaxy once more! The End!”
She finished with a flourish, gazing down at her audience expectantly. He simply blinked at her.
“What?” she pouted. “Didn’t like that story?”
Craz flicked his forked tongue at her. She shrugged back at him.
“Yeah, it’s not really a happy one. So. I’m gonna tell you another one!” She exclaimed, picking the lizard up out of the sand. “No getting out of it, little buddy!”
He squirmed for a few seconds but soon quieted when she placed him atop her hair, running a soothing finger down his spine.
“A long time ago -well actually, not that long ago- there was a little girl named Mabel. She had an amazing, loving family who traveled the stars. She loved them all very much, but her favorite person in the galaxy was her brother! They were twins, you know.
“One day, they were flying out on an adventure -their first one!- when their ship was caught by bad men. People who wanted to take the twins away from their family. I guess they kinda did. The twins were put in an escape pod, but Mabel’s brother ran back onto the ship before the pod could take off. You see, he wanted to help fight the bad men…”
“No! Don’t leave me!”
“We’ll come back for you, Mabel! I promise!”
She shook her head, coming back to herself. She winced as Craz dug his claws into her scalp at the motion, but she didn’t mind that much. It helped her from getting too lost in those memories.
“Mabel drifted through space for a little while before landing on a desert planet called Jakku.” Grinning, she tilted her gaze up in the direction of the reptile currently occupying her hair. “I have a feeling you’ve heard of it.”
Craz blinked back.
“She was found by a group of older kids, but not much older than her. Lee, Nate, Robbie, and Tambry. They were scavengers and they didn’t have much food or water, but they still took her in and treated her like their own. And they only complained a little about it.” She paused before shrugging her shoulders.
“Well, okay, Robbie did most of the complaining.” She amended. “Anyway, Mabel really didn’t like the desert and she missed her brother terribly. But it wasn’t all bad. She had new friends that gave her a home inside an old walker, and clothes and food. They taught her how to work a moisture vaporator, how to scavenge, and told her stories like the one you just heard…”
Her voice trailed off. Her eyes burned and her vision blurred, but she forced herself to keep the tears at bay.
Hey, kid, don’t get all weepy on us, Robbie had told her once. You can’t afford to lose that water.
“You’re probably wondering why Mabel’s all alone now, huh? Well, the others had the chance to leave Jakku. They had the chance to fly away, to work on a cargo ship or fight in the war, or whatever else they wanted. They tried to take Mabel with them, but…she said no. She…she couldn’t just leave.”
“We’ll come back for you…”
She wiped at her face and put on a watery smile for her captive audience. “It’ll all be okay!” she reassured Craz. “Her family promised they’d come back for her. All she has to do is wait for them and they’ll take her home.”
Her gut gurgled unhappily again, and she clutched at her too-thin stomach as she gazed back up at the night sky. Her eyes scanned the heavens hopefully.
“They’ll be back,” she insisted, more to herself than to her little friend. “One day.”
--
Many miles away in that same desert, another young woman trudged across the sand as swiftly as her feet could carry her, her faithful droid rolling by her side. Not a sound passed between them, save for the gentle hum of the droid’s servos, as they made their way towards the small settlement.
Far up in the skies above the planet, a man clad in black smiled darkly to himself behind his mask as his transport full of soldiers prepared for combat on the planet’s surface.
And many lightyears away, another man gazed out at the starscape himself, occasionally flickering his gaze back to his young charge who was sleeping fitfully in the co-pilot seat next to him. He sighed heavily into the quiet air of the cockpit, his many failures weighing down his aging shoulders. Slowly, he reached for the control panel and prepared the ship for hyperspace.
The very stars themselves seemed to hum with the promise of change.
#Katie Writes Stuff#Gravity Falls#Star Wars AU#The Ford Awakens AU#TFA Au#Mabel Pines#Stanley Pines#Stanford Pines#Dipper Pines#Pines Family
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0n ¥our $ide pt.1
Great. Raining again. Pouring to be exact. And the bus just had to be too early or you too late again. The bus stop is already full of people so there is no room to take cover under the roof.
You take your backbag and try to cover your head with it but remember that you also have your new laptop in it so now you have to cover the bag with your body. Honestly, you didn’t even care anymore because you are already soaking wet anyways. And looking like a complete moron was a normal feeling for you too.
10 minutes pass and the new bus still hasn’t arrived. But as a few ambulances and firetrucks pass, you know that somethings wrong. Soon someone walks by and says that there has been an accident and now it’s a huge traffic mess.
Well that’s just perfect. Someone just had to be more of a moron and create a traffic jam right when you just want to go home and think about how much you hate people. Sometimes it feels like you’re the human version of Squidward which probably is true. But somehow, whenever you go out you act like spongebob and actually like it.
Cause you have some school stuff to do you decide to go to the nearest coffe shop which turns out to be Starbucks. Yay great I can be a basic Starbucks white girl. Not that you actually had anything against it but it looked really funny how some teenage girls just live there.
You step in and are not surprised by the long queue but who cares. You have time. But getting a seat might be a little bit harder. I mean, who wants to have a soaking wet person who kinda looks homeless after a long day at school sit next to them.
Finally when its your turn you take a simple caramel latte. Because the place is full of people it’s really hard to talk since you are not so used to yelling.
“ what’s your name?”
“_______”
“ What?!”
“ my name’s _____”
“What?!”
You yell your name one more time and he seems to write it down. He looks really tired too with his ginger curly hair messed up and sweat under his armpits.
You wait for your drink for quite a time before you get it. You look at the cup and there is ‘Somebody’ written on it. Seriously gingerbread, you really wrote Somebody instead of a random name? Congratulations winning the title of the worst employee of the year.
At this point you don’t even care anymore and just sit in front of a guy. You take a quick look at him and are not sure if it is a guy or not but damn his hot as hell. He looks at you and takes a sip of what seems to be an iced coffee.
“ Hello Somebody”
Ok I think that sounded like a girl but men can have girly voices too. And what’s up with the sexy accent? Also she is wearing a black t-shirt and her tattoos look pretty unique and bold for a girl. The hair and necklace and jeans, it all combined makes you feel confused
“ Yeah I got that name from my grandmom"
You say jokingly and scan her with your eyes. You stop at her hand and are now pretty sure that she’s a girl. A man just can’t have hands that skinny and famine.
“ I’m a girl if you were wondering”
She says while smiling and taking a sip from her drink. She also keeps her eyes only on you, probably because you look like a complete mess. Her sentence got you by a little shock and now you feel embarrassed but the cool you that you are can’t leave it this way. You lift your drink and before taking a sip you ask her with a straight face:
“ Why would you think that I don’t know”
“ The look on you face was pretty lost and confused from the moment you sat down. Also the way you were scanning my whole look gave you in ”
“oh”
Sometimes accepting you loss is the only right thing to do, no matter how hard it is. But she just laughs kindly. Somehow the silence wasn’t that awkward as you expected.
“ Don’t worry happens to me a lot. So what’s your real name, Cinderella?”
Seriously? Cinderella? Do I really look that bad. This time, i’m not gonna lose.
“ And why should I tell you Prince Charming?”
“Maybe so i can take you to my castle and you can meet your fairy godmother for a make over.”
You both laugh and you give her the oh no you did not just do that look. She won again, 2:0 your loss. But it’s not that bad having a conversation with her makes you feel good and wanted. But there is still something intimidating about her that makes you feel uncomfortable in a sexual way.
“ Seriously though, you look like crap. I live here nearby. You could really use a shower and some new clothes before the evil witch makes you her slave.”
3:0 so I think that now I really have to go with her. It seems a little weird to go to someone’s place knowing them for only what, 10 minutes? But a hot shower would be really good.
“ I accept your invitation”
You say with the most British accent you could do, making her laugh and reach out a hand for yours.
“ I think that won’t be necessary, I’m a strong independent woman after all”
You say proudly lifting your chin up. She looks up and down on you and smirks.
“ Yeah I can totally see that”
4:0 I give up. Usually you were the one who was good at this but damn she was even better. Only she did not make feel like complete moron you now are sexually confused also. Thank you God, fairy godmother and all the 7 dwarves for that.
So that’s the first part. Let me know if you want more or something. Also this is the first time I have written this thingsoihopeyoulikeitbye.
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Chapter 2: The Land of Horror and Blood
Fandom: Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler
Pairings: mainly Ciel Phantomhive/Elizabeth Midford
Summary: “There is nothing more ridiculous than living in a country in which an orange-skinned man won an election,” Francis had said, ending the Midfords four-year-long stay in the USA.
Three days later, Elizabeth lives in gloomy London, wishing to be back in sunny LA, when a murder case suddenly turns her life upside down, entangling her with Ciel Phantomhive, his duty to the crown, and his school-intern detective agency…
Navigation: Chapter Index
“We make up horrors to help us cope with the real ones.”
― Stephen King
Countryside, England, United Kingdom – November 2016
“I see... In any case, I have no intention of fighting you, Mr Butler... I yield. But you know...” Azzurro Vanel said while grabbing Ciel Phantomhive by his hair and pulling him into his arms before he held a gun to his head. “I’ll be taking those goods you managed you get.”
It was Monday morning – and no, Ciel Phantomhive usually did not spend his Monday mornings bleeding and hurt in the arms of a madman who pressed a gun against his temple. Not that this had never happened before – just not on a Monday morning.
In what kind of world were they living where madmen ignored the fact that you should not kidnap anyone before midday? Especially thirteen-year-old children who had to go to school on Mondays?
“You wouldn’t want your cute master to have breathing holes in his head, would you?” Azzurro Vanel, Italian mafia boss, traitor, and madman who did not know that you were not supposed to kidnap anyone on Monday mornings, said. Mondays were already worse enough without a kidnapping. Particularly the mornings when you were fully confronted with the fact that the weekend was in the past now, and you had to go out and socialise again.
Ciel almost shuddered at the thought of socialising.
“If you’re really a butler, then you know what you should do.”
“The thing you gentlemen are looking for is right-” Sebastian Michaelis, manservant, Phantomhive family butler with a secret, calmly replied. The moment he put his hand into his pocket to get out the item Azzurro wanted, he was shot in the head. A second later, Sebastian was shot a dozen times again.
And no – that Ciel Phantomhive’s butler got shot was also not something which often happened.
“Did... we get him?” Azzurro’s henchmen asked their boss from behind the perforated painting which had hidden them earlier.
No. You have just turned him into a piece of Swiss cheese – but no, you didn’t get him, Ciel thought.
“... Hahaha,” Azzurro chuckled. It sounded horrible. “Sorry, Romeo... but I’m the winner of this game!!”
That’s what you call a Large Ham, crossed Ciel’s mind right before Azzurro pulled him by his hair again to force him to look into his ugly face. Now, the Mafioso was pressing his gun against Ciel’s chin. “And right when he’d finally come for you... too bad, huh? Little Phantomhive. If you’re up against the Phantomhives, the Queen’s Watchdogs, then even I’ll keep an ace up my sleeve.”
For centuries, the Phantomhive family served the Royal family as Watchdogs who guarded the Underworld. And when Ciel’s parents had died three years ago, the family duty had been passed to him.
Normal citizens didn’t know about this. For them, the Phantomhives were rich entrepreneurs and Ciel nothing but a poor, poor child who had lost his family in tragedy.
But in reality, the Phantomhives had been murderers all the time – shadow detectives and silent killers, executing every one of the ruler’s wishes.
Therefore, you could say that Ciel Phantomhive was definitely not a nice boy. He was the most calculating and manipulative evil boy of this century – not counting fictional Artemis Fowl.
“All that’s left is to kill you,” Azzurro said to Ciel, grinning, “and it’ll be perfect. You’ve been in the way for a long time now, always watching us like the police. Eh? We’ll erase you... and bring change to England through our own methods.”
I am better than the police. Don’t compare me to these incompetent fools.
Azzurro pulled away Ciel’s eye-patch with the gun barrel and continued to talk. Ciel did not even bother to listen to his words anymore.
This man is a master in wasting time. I need to be in school in twenty minutes.
I guess, I should call out for Sebastian now.
“Hey,” Ciel said aloud. “How long are you going to play around for? I wouldn’t have thought that that was such a nice place to sleep. Just how long are you going to play dead like a racoon? I am going to be late for school.”
With a chuckle, Sebastian Michaelis – manservant, butler, dead just a minute ago – sat up. “The efficiency of guns has been going up recently. It’s a big difference to one hundred years ago.”
Azzurro Vanel, crying like a child who had seen a ghost, started yelling to his henchmen to kill Sebastian.
Idiot. Can’t even figure out that you couldn’t kill Sebastian.
Without much effort, Sebastian killed Azzurro’s men with their own bullets which he had earlier retrieved from his own body.
What a show-off.
“Ah... What a mess,” Sebastian sighed, looking at his damaged clothes. “My clothes have become ruined.”
“It’s because you were playing around, you idiot,” his master replied.
The butler Sebastian Michaelis’ secret was that he was not a real butler. Or a manservant. Or even a man.
“Sebastian Michaelis” was the name Ciel Phantomhive had given to the demon he had made a contract with three years ago.
If Ciel were to tell the boulevard press what he had been doing in his month of absolute absence, they would definitely not believe him. But when “accidentally summoning a demon” was the truth what else could you do but to stay silent?
***
After Sebastian had stopped to play dead, everything had gone faster – but not fast enough. And now, it was 9.25, and Ciel had missed the registration and assembly. Hopefully, nobody noticed the quickly covered cuts and bruises on his face.
Incompetent idiot. The cake today has to be especially good to make up for this.
Ciel had just wanted to leave Grey House and take a bus to Red House for French when someone walked right into him. He fell down on his buttocks and when he looked up, Ciel saw a girl with blonde curly twin-tails. She was surrounded by the content of her magenta bag.
The girl gazed up – and stared at him with her shining green eyes.
If she recognises me and begins to pity me with empty words, I will burn down the boulevard press for real this time.
But the girl did not say anything – she just stared at him, her eyes not reflecting recognition or pity but surprise... and a little bit of disgust?
Well, that is weird.
“Are you all right?” Ciel politely asked the girl, stood up, and offered her a hand.
She took his hand without hesitation and answered: “I am fine. Thanks for asking.”
Hm... could it be that she does not know me? That she knows nothing about the fire? Strange... it was all over the news three years ago... Everybody knows about it.
But when I come to think about it – I have never seen her here before.
The bell rang, and the girl cursed right afterwards before she collected her things and put them back into her bag. She threw her books so violently into her backpack that Ciel feared that it could fall apart and she would start cursing uncontrollably.
“Goodbye!” the girl quickly said to him before crumbling her timetable in her hand and running away.
Yes, goodbye to you too.
Ciel was about to head to French when he saw something blue which was reflecting the white corridor light on the ground. He frowned and approached it. The blue something turned out to be a beautiful notebook. He picked it up and thumbed through it, but as soon as he saw the words “Dear Diary...” on one of the pages, he closed it. Ciel Phantomhive might be the ruthless Watchdog of the Queen but he was certainly not someone who read the diaries of others. Especially the diaries of people he did not even know.
It must belong to Green Eyes. The contents of her bag were scattered all over the corridor after our collision after all.
Ciel put the diary into his bag before leaving Grey House. He would surely meet the girl again – and then, he could return the notebook to her.
***
“Hello,” McMillan greeted Ciel when he entered the physics room at 10.34.
Two years ago, McMillan had been late on his very first day of school, and the only free seat had been next to Ciel. Not that this event had turned them into friends – it had just been a coincidence.
McMillan had actually begun to try being Ciel’s friend after Alethea Wordsmith’s rabbit Conan had vanished, and Ciel had deducted in a couple of minutes that Viola Fleming had stolen it as she held a weird obsession for rabbits and her mother had just forbidden her any contact with these adorable animals. Viola had been sent to an asylum, Alethea had got back her beloved pet, and McMillan had started to persuade Ciel to open a detective agency at their new school.
He had eventually succeeded, and the “Phantomhive & McMillan Detective Agency – Chocolate for Investigating” had been founded. And after a while, Ciel had even – to his own surprise – accepted McMillan as his friend. On a peculiar December day when Ciel had watched the snow falling down in front of his office window, he had caught himself thinking “I could call McMillan and ask him if he wants to build a snowman.”
Ciel had laid in his bed for the rest of the day, but, eventually, he had stopped to struggle against the fact – a really, really, strange fact – that, deep down, he considered McMillan as his friend – a circumstance which had been caused by the remnants of his childish thoughts, Ciel told himself. From that day on, Ciel became the only person to call McMillan by his first name – except his parents and siblings.
But I cannot get too attached to this “friendship” and this “normal life.” After all, it is not going to last for long.
“Hello,” Ciel replied and sat down on his chair next to McMillan’s.
“How was your weekend?” he asked.
“Not out of the ordinary,” Ciel answered, and McMillan started to tell him about his weekend. “I helped my father at the library, and my mother is in the middle of an interesting case. Also...”
He talked and talked until the bell rang, and Kaizuka Taiji, their physics teacher, started the lesson.
***
Ciel saw the green-eyed girl again in the cafeteria during Lunch Break while he spoke to McMillan. The girl had been talking to Paula Sergeant and was now staring at him across the cafeteria. Paula followed the other girl’s gaze and tilted her head before saying something to her.
I can give the diary back to her now, Ciel thought and excused himself to McMillan before walking towards the girls’ table who were still deep in talk.
“You lost this earlier,” Ciel said to the girl after he had arrived at their table and took out her diary. He handed it to her and, at first, the girl just stared at him as if he was a ghost or had vomit in his hair.
Green Eyes is quite weird. Always staring at me.
Hm... wait. What if I really have something in my hair? Or if one of my cuts or bruises are visible? I need to check that later.
Then, without saying anything, the girl took the notebook. And because she had not said anything, Ciel simply frowned and wordlessly returned to McMillan.
“What did you do?” his friend wanted to know.
“I collided with her earlier today,” Ciel explained. “She lost something due to the collision. I found it and gave it back to her.”
McMillan nodded in appreciation before he resumed their conversation from earlier. “Nuala likes Marinette the most.” Nuala was McMillan’s younger sister and a big fan of Miraculous Ladybug. One day, when Ciel had been visiting McMillan she had forced them to sit and marathon the entire first season. It had been a dreadful experience. This show was too sparkly and too light and good for Ciel’s taste. He especially hated Hawk Moth, the TV show’s idiotic villain, and the fact that Ladybug had the ability to undo the damage caused by the akumatised people. The world wasn’t as simple and easy as it was shown in Miraculous Ladybug.
You cannot just turn everything like it has once been with the help of magical ladybugs.
Ciel sighed. “Of course, she likes Marinette. She is the protagonist after all. The protagonist, as long as he or she is not a complete idiot, is always one of the top three most liked characters of its source material.”
McMillan shrugged. “She’s five. So, do you think a Ladybug doll would be a good present for her?”
Nuala and Niall ‒ McMillan’s twin siblings – would turn six next week, and while McMillan knew what he could get his brother, he was a bit clueless when it came to finding a suitable gift for his sister.
“Are there any Miraculous Ladybug toys?”
“I have absolutely no clue. No – wait. I do. Toys ‘R’ Us has some. They look terribly ugly, though. I cannot give my sister a toy which could give her nightmares.”
McMillan was the sort of person who always found something good in everything and everyone. This was most likely the reason why they had become friends in the first place. So, if he thought that something was hideous, it was indeed hideous.
“What about a t-shirt or some other piece of clothes? There are band t-shirts, so why shouldn’t there be any children TV series t-shirts?”
“I looked that up already.” McMillan sighed. “They look even worse than the toys. Mostly, just the Ladybug and Cat Noir symbols were put on a plain t-shirt, dress, or jumper. The guys who make these things are awfully fanciless.”
“What about fan-made things, then?” Ciel suggested. “They tend to be better than the official things.”
“Hm – that’s a good idea! I will search for something after school. Thanks, Ciel.”
“You’re welcome.”
“It happened on his birthday?!” somebody suddenly screamed through the entire cafeteria. Ciel flinched. He whirled around to find the voice’s source – which turned out to be the green-eyed girl. People looked at her before they turned their attention to Ciel.
Dammit. That’s why I usually don’t go to the cafeteria.
Ciel Phantomhive usually spent his breaks in the office of his school-intern detective agency. But today, he had gone to the cafeteria because he had had to find the girl and return her diary.
Damn you, Paula Sergeant. I preferred it when Green Eyes knew nothing about this. Then, there would have been two pupils in this goddamn school who would not bother me with this topic.
Ciel quickly left the canteen before anybody could come and talk to him. McMillan silently followed him.
I am not someone who would turn into a cry-baby because of that. I am just tired of answering the same questions over and over again.
No, I won’t tell you where I was in that one month.
No, I have no clue who burned down Phantomhive Manor and murdered my parents.
But I am working on it.
***
After a period of biology by Caspian Darwin, McMillan and Ciel walked home together. Finnian MacCoul, who was officially the son of Ciel’s gardener, but who was actually Ciel’s gardener himself, still had German classes and thus couldn’t accompany them.
Ciel and McMillan said goodbye to each other when they arrived at the Phantomhive townhouse, and Ciel waved after his friend while McMillan walked down the road.
“Welcome back, Young Master,” Sebastian greeted Ciel, opening the door. Ciel glared at him. “I hope the cake is already ready, Sebastian.”
“Of course, it is, Young Master,” Sebastian replied. “I will serve it as a dessert after lunch.”
“No. The cake will be my lunch. And don’t argue with me – I deserve this after you fooled around too long this morning and let me be late for school.”
“A letter from the Queen arrived before you returned from school,” Sebastian told his master and handed him the letter on a silver tray. Ciel had just finished eating his lunch charlotte russe.
“If it was already here when I came back – why didn’t you give it to me then?” Ciel asked, taking the envelope.
“I thought that you might want to eat first.”
Ciel ignored Sebastian’s reply and opened the letter. It said: “My dear boy – in 1888, a person who was called Jack the Ripper murdered people, mostly female prostitutes, in Whitechapel, London. Their identity was never unveiled, and thus Jack the Ripper became one of the most famous serial killers in history. But you may already know about that.
“Lately, similar murders have been committed, and again, they have occurred in Whitechapel. Scotland Yard is working on this case, but they are as clueless as Frederick Abberline back in the late 19th century. Therefore, I removed them from this case and put you in charge of continuing and solving it. I have already informed the police about this transfer.”
A second Whitechapel Murderer? Ciel thought and put down the letter. At least, this was more exciting than searching for cats or looking into supposed beauty contest frauds. Or idiotic Italian mafiosi.
#the stars of the night#ciel phantomhive#cielizzy#ciel x lizzy#elizabeth midford#kuroshitsuji#black butler#fanfiction#modern au#school au#the whitechapel copycat arc
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The Soldier & The Spartan
OK here it is, chapter 2. Sorry for the wait, I hope it wasn't too long. Again if y'all see any mistakes of any kind please inform me, I don’t really have proof reader so mistakes are bound to get through. more commentary at the bottom
Chapter 2
The Spartan
The rhythmic thumping of hooves could be heard for miles, as a monstrously large boar ran through a grape plantation. It was running from its predator; a woman clad in blood red robes, and well polished bronze armor. A Corinthian helmet covered her face. Only her piercing green eyes could be seen through the helm. The red plume that was connected to the hunter's helmet waved sided to side as she chased her prey.
She had been hunting the monster for weeks now. It had attacked several villages that surrounded the City state of Mystral. She was ordered to hunt it down and prevent it from ever harming another citizen of Mystral. Pyrrha has always been asked to do such tasks; shew was the hero of Mystral, the daughter of Athena. It was her duty to keep her city safe from its enemies and the monsters created by Salem.
No one knows how Salem became a god. It was rumored she was the daughter of Hades and some ungodly monster. Others say she was a daughter of a titan who crawled her way out of the pits of Tartarus to join her siblings on Mnt. Olympus. No matter which story was true, one fact remained. It was that Salem was evil. She loved to create beasts that could kill any normal man with ease.she had created entire armies of beasts that lay waste to any city it came across. This boar is one such monster.
It was the size of 4 men. It's fur was a glossy black, with large bony protrusions around it's body. It's tusks were razor sharp. A white froth surrounded its mouth from running for so long. His eyes were the color of blood. As Pyrrha chased the beast she could see his massive muscles flex and stretch. Blood coated several areas of black fur where her spear had pierced it's hide.
When she first attacked the beast she was unprepared for how fast it was and she missed its heart; hitting one of the bone plates instead. A furious fight followed where she was able to do considerable damage to the monster. Before she was able to deal a killing blow the giant boar turned and ran from her, knowing it would die if it stayed and faced the red huntress.
That fight was 4 days ago. The beast had run without pause or rest. Pyrrha kept up, but she was growing tired. She knew she had to end the chaise soon or she would become the hunted. To her surprise the boar started to slow down and soon came to a stop. Pyrrha was relieved to see it had finally ran out of stamina, but was not sure what this beast was thinking so she held back to ensure she was not caught in some trap.
The boar turned and faced Pyrrha, it stamped its hooves and gave a deep and rumbling squeal and charged. Pyrrha accepting the dual charged as well. When the beast was just feet away she jumped and grabbed her glistening bronze shield off her back. She landed on the beast's spine and stabbed her spear into boar's back making it squeal. The monster shock furiously trying desperately to free itself of the pain it felt. Pyrrha tried desperately to hold on but was flung off. The spear stayed embedded in its back.
Pyrrha got up and drew her xiphos(short sword). She crouched low and started to circle the large boar. If this fight had happened early that week she would have already had won, but after running for days on end; her strength and stamina was pushed to its limits. She had to rely on her superior wits to vanquish her foe.
“Think Pyrrha… this thing can't beat you. Remember what mother has taught you. Use my wits and even a titan will bow to me.” she thought trying to reassure herself that this child of Salem would not devour her. She darted her eyes around her to get a feel for the land. Looking for any way she could use the land to her advantages.
“There's grape vines. I could tangle his tusks in the vines. No that won't work he's too big it would rip the grapevines right out of the ground. There's a few rocks, but their too small to hurt it. Lastly there's a river a little ways down. I could try and get it swept away by the current but this beast is too heavy to be swept away by such a small stream”. She started to curse the god of luck for giving her no advantages over the beast. Then an idea formed in her head.
She adjusted her stance and prepared for a charge. Swinging her sword in the air and shouted Pyrrha bounded forward towards the monster. The boar who had been cautiously waiting for Pyrrha to make the 2nd move responded with another squeal and galloped forward. He barred his tusks out ready to gut his scarlet huntress.
As she charged forward she placed her shield between herself and the boar. The beast being dull believed Pyrrha would attempt the same jumping action to retrieve the spear embedded in his back, but As the beat grew closer Pyrrha dove. She through her shield and landed on it. Using the shield as an impromptu to slay She slid under the beast's tusks, and head. Once her body was directly under its soft underbelly she lifted her sword, burying it into stomach. Using the monster's own momentum gut itself. The boar swiftly past over her and slowed to a limp. Once stopped the beast fell to its side and slowly started to disintegrate into ash.
Pyrrha dropped her sword and removed her shield as she fell to her knees. She panted as she struggled to catch her breath. As she knelt there she removed her helm and dropped it to the ground, revealing a long locks of scarlet. Her hair glistened with the sweat that had drenched her over the last few days. She was exhausted and she knew she needed rest. She lay on the ground and drank in the cloudless sky. She was alone with her thoughts and for her that was never good.
“Out here I'm alone...in the city I'm alone” she whispered to the gods
“Mother why did you create me. There are already many capable heros in Mystral. Why must I be one of them, every human looks at me and is too afraid to speak, or wishes to battle me. I'm alone and it's because of you Athena. You created me and guided me to where I am today. I trusted that you would lead me to happiness but how can I be happy when I'm alone.” She pleaded to the sky not knowing if her mother, the god of reason and war was even listening. With her conscious clear, and her body exhausted she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
***
When she awoke there were 2 young boys staring down at her. One was about 15 his dark curly hair clung to his head. The other much younger child was probably 9, he bobbed excitedly while his brother tried to keep him calm.
She sat up, her fatigue was gone but she was still sore for the fight. After stretching her arms to relive the stiff sore feeling she let her eyes wander. She saw that she had been moved from the field to a nicely lighted room that had a beautiful purple wall peace. When she had her feel for the room she turned to the young boys and asked “Where am I” to the older looking child.
“Your at our estate. We found you lying in one of our grape fields and took you here.”
After the boy finished talking the younger child blurted out.
“Are you a hero. Where are you from. What happened to you” Pyrrha smiled at the constant stream of questions but the older boy was not amused
“Aetes shut your mouth. I apologize for my younger brother he’s vary excitable. He thinks you're a hero.” before Pyrrha could respond the older boy seemed to catch himself “oh where are my manners my name is Tenes. Aetes and I are the sons of the plantation owner.
“My Name is Pyrrha Nikos nice to meet both of you. Do you mind telling me where this plantation is located I’ve traveled quite a distance and I'm at a loss to where I'm at.”
“You're only about 2 schoinos (9 miles) away from Athens. My I ask how you ended up in our field” Tenes tied to be respectful but Pyrrha could tell he wanted some questions answered.
When Pyrrha heard how far she ran she was shocked. The distance between Athens and Mystral was at least 30 schoinos away and she had ran it in 4 days. This meant, even at a brisk hiking pace she had good week and half march back home. After recovering from her shock she graciously explained who she was, how she had been hunting a child of Salem, and how she had ended up dealing the final blow in their field.
“ WOW I KNEW IT I KNEW IT” Shouted Aetes “the armor gave it away” he started to jump up and down vary excitedly. It was his first time ever seeing a Hero up close before and he couldn't wait to ask her thousands upon thousands of questions.
“Aetes calm yourself, can't you see we must act on our best behavior with your new guest” Tenes’s behavior had changed from one of a curious concern to one of high class and manners in the matter of seconds.
“Pyrrha would you do my family the honor of staying at our estate to regain your strength” Tenes ask with this new air of manners. Pyrrha hated when someone did this. Her title always made people act different around her. She couldn't stand it so she decided to decline the boys offer. Aetes was every sad to hear this, he begged and begged for her to stay the night so he could ask her all the questions he had. Tenes was sad to her it to even though he acted like an adult he still wished to ask the same questions as his younger brother. If he only knew that if he had acted less like an adult and more like a kid Pyrrha would have gladly stayed the night.
Before Pyrrha left Tenes replenished her food supply and gave her a flask of his family's finest wine as a way of showing tribute to the scarlet hero. As she walked away from the plantation she waved at the boys.
***
It had been 6 days since she had left the plantation and headed north towards her home of Mystral. It had been a leisurely walk home. The countryside was calm and there was no one to bother her with fake manners or altered attitudes. She had kept a steady pace throughout the whole trek. She would wake in the morning just as the sun peeked over the earth, eat a light breakfast, she’d then hike well into the night and find a small tree to sleep under.
On her sixth day however she woke well past the rising sun. Her dreams were plagued with images of monsters, loud cracks of lightning, and the god of death, Hades. These dreams had woken her several times during the night. She knew they had to be visions but was not sure of what might be predicted. When she finally was free of these dreams, she fell into a deep sleep causing her to miss her early morning rising.
When she woke she realized immediately that she had been asleep far too long. Deciding to skip her meal of bread a water she elected to catch up on lost ground instead. She sprinted like she had before when chasing the boar. She flows through the open terrain. The trees and hill sides swiftly passed by her. She grew focused on her destination only looking for the path of the least resistance. If she had taken her time instead of rushing she would have noticed the paw prints of a wolf of unusual size.
As she traveled through the forest she came to a clearing. A hill rested in the middle. It's pick overlooked the surrounding area. She slowed to a stop and looked around. She decided to climb the hill to see if she could not spot her city. As she climbed she realized there was no sound of birds or any animal. It was deathly quiet.when no animal speaks a monster layers near. She readied herself for anything. She fit her helmet over her face. She drew her sword and clutched her shield. She would not be taken by surprise if she could help it.
She grew closer to the summit of the hill. She noticed a clump of dusty white fur. It was surrounded by bones and half eaten carcasses on animals. As approached it her eyes grew wide. Laying in front of her was a child of Salem. This particular beast was an Alpha Beowolf. Instead of it's fur being black it was a dirty white. It's size was much larger than the average wolf it stood at least 3 men tall.
Unlike most children of Salem beowolf’s traveled in packs. They hunted together, killed together, and eat together, However There was one exception to this rule. They were called Alphas, these beasts would kill their entire pack, with each brethren they killed their strength would increase. Soon after their fur would turn white. These monsters would hunt anything, men, animals, and even their own kind. These beasts were rare and extremely deadly.
She crept closer to the sleeping Alpha. She knew that she needed to strike first if she wanted to have an easy fight. She sheathed her sword as quietly as she could and drew her spear. Lifting it she aimed at the center of the beasts sleeping body. She tossed the spear. It soared straight and true and found its target. The tip embedded itself into the ribs of the enormous wolf. The large beowulf let out a deathly howl. With blistering speed the wolf was up on its hind legs and looking for whoever dared to attack it. Soon his eyes fell on the charging spartan.
Pyrrha lunged at the wolf with her sword. Swinging it at its stomach. The beast jumped back dodging the slashes. He counted by swiping his massive claws at the aggressor. Pyrrha used her shield to block the incoming blows. The shear force from the claws forced Pyrrha to step back. Pyrrha was amazed by the strength of her opponent. She had faced Alphas before but this particular one was much stronger than her previous kills. She shuddered at how many of its own kin it had to had killed to reach this frightening level.
Soon the wolf was pressing the assault. Each time he swung his claws Pyrrha was pushed back a little more, however this did not bother her. She calmly studied the beast from behind her shield. She observed every strike the beast delivered. She noticed that the spear she had thrown was still stuck in his ribs. Every time the wolf raised his paws to strike he flinched out of pain as the spear would be disturbed by the wolf's movements.
She waited for one of these flinches. Giving as much ground as she needed before she could strike out. The opportunity presented itself while the wolf raised his paws again. Has he raised his paws to deliver another massive hit Pyrrha dashed forward. She grabbed the spear and drove it deeper into the wolf. The beast let loose a bloodcurdling howl. He began to claw at Pyrrha and managed to strike her helmet. The hit sent her soaring to the other side of the summit.
As she lifted herself off the ground she saw the extent of her actions. The spear had gone clean through the wolf. The wound was a grievous one for the monster as it found it hard to keep itself upright. Pyrrha began to walk over to the wolf and began to swing her sword at it vigorously. The wolf attempted to dodge the new onslaught, but the spear that was stuck through him prevented any fast and agile movements. Each swipe would cut the beast.
Soon the beast lay on it's back. It's body was covered in gashes and stab wounds. There was no escape for it. Pyrrha walked up to its head she lifted her sword. The monster let out one final snarl and Pyrrha drove her sword threw the wolf's mouth.
As the Alpha slowly disintegrated Pyrrha pulled her spear out of the wolf's chest. She was glad with the outcome she had won with only minor injuries. The Alpha had fought hard but was still no match for her. Just like the boar the Alpha only relied on its strength to win a fight.
As Pyrrha reached the bottom of the hill an owl landed on a tree and she stopped. The owl was a dark brown with two little tufts of feathers that gave it the illusion of horns. It stared at her with its dark all knowing eyes, then flow up to the summit. Pyrrha knew at once that the owl was a messenger of Athena, and that it was directing her back to the spot of where she killed the Alpha. She dashed back up the hill following the owl as it flew in front of her.
As she reached the summit once more she was greeted by the owl; who was sitting atop the still dissolving corps of the Alpha. Pyrrha walked up to the perched bird and asked
“Why did you bring me back her mother?” the owl just kept looking at her.
“Well?” Pyrrha raised her hands and started looking around the hilltop. Then as she turned back to the owl the earth began to shake. As the hilltop shook the owl spread its massive wings and soared away. A blinding light appeared in front of her. The heat she felt was immense like Apollo himself was standing in front of her.
She backed away covering her masked face from the light. She feared that some ancient beast was appearing in front of her so she drew her spear off her back and crouched behind her shield waiting for the brightness to die down.
Once the heat dissipate and the light vanished she peered over her shield to see what had just aspired before her. She expected to see some monster or a gift from her mother. Instead, an oddly dressed figure lay on the ground in front of her. She slowly crept closer to inspect the motionless body.
The man was her age, 19 maybe 20. He wore very odd attire. Instead of the usual white robes he wore a thick green cloth that covered each individual leg and arm. His chest had 2 belts running down it each had several pouches attached to it. She could see the glint of what she thought was bronze poking out of a few of pouches. His helmet she found especially weird, it only covered the top half of his head it gave no protection to his face; she could not conceive why someone would wear such a useless piece of armor. His sandals were weird as well, instead of leather straps his foot was covered in one large piece of leather and was cinched tight using rope. A piece of wood laid near him hit had a strap to carry it but she could think of no reason why he should lug such an odd piece of wood with him.
As the man began to stir she quickly pressed her spear to his throat. If he was a monster or servant of some foul god she would dispel him.
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oh crap another cliff hanger its like LOST all over again, but seriously i will try and cut back on cliffhangers from now on. i hope ya’ll liked the new chapter. more is most definitely on its way. it my take some time due to school being hard and annoying, BUT it will come!
i feel like the pacing of this chapter was off, like all the scenes happened too fast what do y’all think? well I really love this version of pyrrha she just so cool real bad ass even in Greek time shes invincible.
#rwby#rwby fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#jaune arc#pyrrha nikos#arkos#rwby arkos#jaune x pyrrha#pyrrha x jaune#rwby jaune#rwby pyrrha#the soldier & the spartan#this story is crap#im crap#dont read
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APOLLO AND HYACINTH
Hyacinth, the young son of the King of Sparta, was beautiful like the very gods of Mount Olympus themselves. His youthful attractiveness caught the eye of Apollo, the shooter of arrows and the God of the sun. Apollo, in mortal form, had a powerful chest, firm muscles and a keen eye for love. Particularly the love of a handsome male youth.
The god would often come to the shores of the Eurotas River, leaving his shrine in Delphi unattended. Here he befriended Hyacinth and soon they were spending much time together, delighting in adolescent pleasures. Tired of his music and his bow, Apollo found relief in their rustic pastimes. He took Hyacinth hunting through the woods and glades on the mountain sides. They practiced gymnastics, a skill which Hyacinth then taught to his friends, and for which later the Spartans would become renowned.
But he did not pass on all of the things he learned with Apollo. He kept to himself, for example, the things he was taught about the pleasures of love; how to tend to a friend, how to give pleasure in return for guidance and protection. He did not tell his father, the King, all of what he did in those long summer days in the woods. How he and Apollo would grapple naked, trying to floor each other in wrestling. How, when Apollo pinned him to the mossy earth he became aroused as the god made man pressed his firm body onto his, how he licked at the sweat that moistened Apollo's hard shoulders and savoured the feel of the dark curly hair against his cheek. Hyacinth kept to himself his wild imaginings when Apollo rolled him flat on his stomach, lowered his heavy body over the youth and pressed all of his manliness downwards, pinning the lad in submission and pleasure. And, at first, he did not tell Apollo what he felt either.
As summer drew on and the games they played increased in fervour, Apollo knew that it was only a matter of time before the youth gave in to him. He had the power to make the lad turn to him, open his arms and his lips to him and submit. But Apollo was in love, and each day his love for Hyacinth increased until it passed the bounds of lust. He knew he could not force the lad to yield. And he knew that he did not have to.
Once, in the heat of a late summer afternoon, the friends stripped naked, sleeked themselves with olive oil, and began to wrestle.
Hyacinth closed his eyes when he felt the powerful hands of his friend grip together behind his back. His chest pressed against Apollo's, constricting his breathing, his head pushed back against the older man's shoulder and his feet tried to find purchase in the soil. Apollo pushed back and like bucking stags they forced each other backwards, then lost ground, then won a move until Hyacinth felt his strength leaving him. He was panting, his pulse racing as his mind wandered. He could no longer think of the fight, only of how Apollo's firmness was now no longer confined to his chest and his legs. He felt the heat of a rock hard muscle straining against his stomach, he felt a little moisture there, and he felt the welcome rub of coarse hair against his smooth flesh. Between his own legs he felt his smaller, mortal passion rise firm and painful and he longed for Apollo to give it release.
And then he was on the ground. Sharp twigs and earth dug into his back, his breath was knocked from him as Apollo landed on him, victorious. Their faces, wet with perspiration and flushed with effort, were but a tiny distance apart. Hyacinth looked up into the deep brown eyes of his mentor and opened his mouth. He felt hot breath, soft lips and a deep, passionate kiss fulfil his soul. He arched his back to press his aching groin harder against the man he loved and his heart leaped when he felt the action returned.
He felt a strong hand wrap around his waist, cupping his buttocks and felt fingers exploring between them. Before he knew it and before the long awaited kiss was finished, he felt long slippery fingers enter him. His eyes were open, Apollo's were closed, both in ecstasy. Hyacinth was smiling, knowing that now there was no turning back for either.
But the lips parted and, and the fingers withdrew. Apollo opened his eyes and looked at his young friend.
'And now?' he whispered. 'What now?'
'Please,' Hyacinth begged. He knew that he need say no more.
Apollo dipped his head and a broad grin widened across his mouth. He looked down along the lithe body at last submissive beneath him. He felt the smooth, youthful buttocks in his hand as his eyes fell on the swollen, dark flesh between the youth's legs. And he gazed upon his own, god-like flesh, glowing golden and perfect, ready, waiting to slide inside and find the release that waited there.
'Please,' Hyacinth repeated.
Apollo gently lifted the lad by the waist, rested his buttocks on his thighs, and pointed his solid shaft directly between the youth's legs. He knew where Hyacinth wanted him to go and he knew that he had to give in to mortal desire. Arching his back he bent his head down and took the youthful lips in his again. They kissed. Apollo slid the young body towards him and he felt the two of them become as one.
Around them the forest fell silent all save for a gentle rustling in the trees. Someone invisible watched them as they bent and plunged together on the forest floor. Someone heard their cries of passion, saw their bodies give way to mortal, forbidden pleasure and that someone became aroused. Zephyr, the god of the wind, let his eyes rest on the face of the beautiful youth, now being driving to the pinnacle of ecstasy by the perfect thrusting of Apollo's hips. He saw the youth thrash his head, saw his golden hair fall from his face and reveal the desire in his eyes. And he wanted to feel what Apollo felt, he wanted to know the love that the young prince was giving, he wanted everything that he could not have.
And he grew angry and jealous.
As the sun began its dip to the horizon without its master Apollo released his love, filling the youth, and then gently he released his lover.
'I want to know,' Hyacinth said softly when his breath would allow. 'I want to know you in the same way.'
Apollo smiled at him and brushed a finger across the sensitive tip of the boy's wilting shaft. He collected just a drop of the liquid that still clung there, brought it to his lover's mouth and let him taste it.
'For me to allow that,' said the god of the sun, 'you must prove your worth.'
And before Hyacinth had time to savour the taste of his own ambrosia, Apollo was dragging him to his feet.
'Take this,' Apollo said and passed a smooth, glinting discus. 'If you can throw this you can take me in the same way.'
Hyacinth rose to the challenge, driven by love and desire. He took the discus and gave it his mightiest throw. It sailed on the wind, higher and higher until Zephyr caught it and sent it back towards Apollo, he who had tasted everything that Zephyr wanted for his own. Apollo was acting like a mortal, and so he was mortal. With one blow to his head the discus would kill him and the beautiful Hyacinth would belong to Zephyr. For all eternity.
But as the disc fell toward the earth, driven by the evil wind, Hyacinth saw where it was headed, he saw the danger his lover was in and he ran to intercept it.
He dived for the lethal disc, but missed.
The discus landed but, having fallen from such a great height on such an evil breath, it bounced and violently struck Hyacinth in the head. He let out a groan and crumpled to the ground.
Apollo ran to his friend, horrified. He bent over the dying youth and raised him up, resting the boy's head on his knees. He tried desperately to staunch the blood that flowed from the wound but it was all in vain. Hyacinth grew paler and paler, and his head rolled to one side, just like a flower of the field wilting under the pitiless rays of the noonday sun.
Heartbroken, Apollo cried out. 'Death has taken you in his claws. What was my crime? Was our love to blame? The guilt that follows love that loves too much? Oh, if only I could pay for my deed by joining you in your journey to the cheerless realms of the dead. Oh, why am I cursed to live forever? Why can't I follow you?'
He words were taken by the wind that had come from nowhere as it now returned to nowhere. As if someone were stalking away sulking and taking the breeze with him, the wind died with the boy and both were gone.
Apollo held his dying friend close to his breast, and his tears fell in a stream onto the boy's bloody hair. Hyacinth died and his soul flew to the kingdom of Hades. The god bent close to the dead boy's ear, and softly whispered: 'In my heart you will live forever, beautiful Hyacinth. May your memory live always among men as well.'
And, at a word from Apollo, a fragrant red flower rose from Hyacinths' blood to remind mankind of his beauty.
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Coraline au (Dagon)
N/A: This will be short, I hope.
@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @sailorstar9 @discordsworld @bamfoftheundead
The trip to Cairo was short as it was expected. The X-men and Kitty got a good impression of each other and even Rogue asked for a selfie ("I like your song, Starlight, and sorry for the whole Dazzler´s enemy" "Is fine, and thank you, that is my favourite song too") and now she must return to Fortress city.
There´s no other option!
As she set her foot in the Airport of US, an uber driver is already waiting for her and even the security as her fans are overjoyed to see Kitty there(Many will ask what she was doing in Cairo for such short amount of time, and her haters will craft horrible stories to feel smart) and Kitty would be grateful for the security if they didn´t smell like fish.
Oh...they are fast!
"Thank you, I had a safe trip, now, I must take a rest" Kitty speaks to her fans that are taking photos and making a small circle around her space, thank god for the security, even if they all smell like fish.
She is inside the uber and is off to go to Fortress City.
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"Fancy weather isn´t it?" Kitty speaks trying to break the silence as the man is driving and the only thing indicating he is alive is the turns and lefts the man has to do and how the smell of fish gets stronger each time. "I even meet the X-men in my mission, pretty cool, and...maybe I could do a collaboration with Dazzler in the future"
"Silence, human!" the driver speaks not taking his eyes out of the road, they are now crossing the bridge and Fortress City is visible. " Dagon wants to have a word with you"
"The big fish? finally got to meet the boss" Kitty said in a mocking tone but she didn´t say anything else after that. Dagon never bothers with her before...or was that what the cats told her.
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If Kitty was expecting a normal reception, well, people of Fortress City lives to overpass her expectations as there´s a crow of people, no, fish people ( with gills and fish scale) and all of them are a queue in harmony as their true form takes place, meanwhile, Kitty saw cats and dogs working together to prevent them to move an inch.
Kitty saw Miss Presley with bloody teeth and claws along with clear evil intentions towards Kitty, however, Jupiter steps away from the sea of cats and dogs to open his mouth and reveal tentacles and others horrors to Kitty.
The woman steps back, but, in doing that she can see the driver, with a Shark like a figure now, wanting to hurt Kitty(is visible) and steps away as Jupiter´s tentacle are creeping on the man. The cats know no mercy to enemies.
And Kitty witnesses the man shark being devoured by Jupiter in one go. And Jupiter goes to Kitty, who is shaken by that (Kitty knew about the tentacles, but, never saw in use before) and speaks strongly. "Kitty comes on, we must go to your parents..."
"Jupiter, the cat!" now Miss Presley takes the word as she licks some of the fresh blood in her fingers "the protector of Kitty, you cats are all about laws...Dagon, my master and her..." she takes time to guess the right word and seems amused as Kitty is looking for her parents or any signal of anyone human "boss, Dagon wants to have a word with her NOW"
"No, Dagon can wait, she is not ready"
"Tsk, tsk, Dagon is the ruler of this land, Jupiter, and we are all bound to do his will, now, since you and the dogs are here to protect Miss Pryde" and only now Kitty notices the dogs coming closer of her and spitting fire as a dragon would."and we won´t hurt her, nor her family" she gives a creepy smile and Kitty feel her stomach drop.
"Where is my family?"
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Kitty´s house is completely vandalized even with all the dogs and cats presented. Cameron Pryde and Terry Pryde are holding a cat and a dog and Kitty goes to her parents, she would hug both of them, but, she notices the bandage her father is using in his torso.
"The dogs and cats did get late by one minute, but, I´m fine" Cameron tries to joke, but, winced in pain and Kitty watches as the dog, the leader of the organization told Cameron to enter.
The house is a wreck outside. She gazes to Jupiter. "We can protect him physically, but, not harming the house and this is the best place to be ...given the circumstances"
"I´ll go talk with Dagon NOW"
"No, Kitty, you can´t," Jupiter said and Terry wholehearted agrees and urges Kitty to hide with them. They can think something once they all are together.
"No, No, Dagon won´t stop until I go talk with him"
"Kitty...there´s no indication he won´t eat you" Jupiter reveals making Terry almost break in tears. Kitty will be lying if she says this does not bother her, yet, Dagon wants to talk with her...he will get his wish.
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"Dagon wants to see you" Miss Presley repeat those lines so it can make Kitty´s blood boil and the woman does not care to give a snippy reply "Tell to the big fish to fuck off"
Miss Presley now free of blood in her face is not impressed and would do something far worse than say a snippy answer, but, once Namor enters in the room, no shirt as always and a resting bitch face, the beautiful woman compose herself.
"Dagon wants to see you now" Namor repeats those words and using his trident point to the white-painted wooden door and is not concerned by Kitty´s safety and she knows he would use the trident on her to make her go faster. (The way he is holding said trident and how his lips twisted into a sneer as he looks up and down to her certainly don´t make him a very friendly person)
Kitty would like to kill this man, but, she has to solve a problem with a fish first.
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Inside of the room, a man with curly blonde hair and blue eyes is waiting for her, a handsome man indeed, except, his rotten smell of fish gives away what he is. And Kitty can only frown at his mere presence.
"I´m here...didn´t Dagon wants to see me?" Kitty replied mocking those cursed words.
"Yes, I do, finally we meet, miss Pryde" Dagon replied.
"You know, Stephen King once makes a movie and book about you, you were a giant fart in there" Kitty replied not moving an inch and having her powers ready.
"Oh, that movie, yes, while I wasn´t the typical handsome god, my message was sent and for that, I´m thankful for that, now, we aren´t here to talk about me, but, about you!"
"Hi, my name is Kitty Pryde, I like sweet things, cats and dogs, music, and I hate bullies," she said in a mock tone of presentation. Dagon does not mind.
"The humans that came here usually are here for one reason, to procreate, of course, consent is the key for everything" Dagon speaks seriously and Kitty remembers what Jupiter said about him in the past." but your father never wanted to cooperate with this norm and neither your mother. A loving couple indeed, but, you see, I don´t have use for humans that love each other"
"So, I´m here to be some fish´s bitch?" she rudely asked and her hands are glowing as she is ready to strike. Dagon, once again, is not worried.
"That is one of the possibilities, but, no, Miss Pryde, you´re far too valuable to sire children only, no, if the cats of the dark pharaoh" Dagon speaks as if just throw up something incredibly nasty "think you´re special, then you are special...oh...they never told you about their patron?!"
"Is not their patron that hurt my father"
"True, I know it sounds harsh, but, as I said, a man that loves his human wife has no value to my society, however, since the cats never managed to illuminate you about the piece of shit that is the Dark Pharaoh...let I do this charity" and Dagon speaks as there´s nothing wrong in the room, ignoring Kitty´s energy and telling his tale.
"The Dark Pharaoh eats humans for funsies and that is the luck humans because the unlucky ones are mutated and have their sanity take away from them, say, do you know the case of that German professor named Mara?" Kitty nods "what that human did was awful...and it was IT´s desire, all those children, women and man...is a game for IT...and the cats follow IT, the cats love IT and you..."now Dagon has a smile on his face.
"Oh you, you´re the sacrifice, the perfect sacrifice"
"What load of bullshite, the cats like me" Kitty answers gazing upon Dagon who is not minding(her energy is getting stronger and Dagon wonders if she could indeed kill him)
"Yes, they like you so much that they gladly risk your life for their endgame, what lovely creatures, just like their master"
"You are the one who hurt my parents"
"Of course, it was nothing personal, but Kitty, at least you always knew I was here...You knew the rules, but, the cats often lie to you. What is their patron? Why pick you? and what they hope to win? They even asked in alliance with dogs to protect you...Miss Pryde, Kitty, you´re an investment and I wonder what they plan to do later...a strong, intelligent and powerful woman is something IT will love to break piece by piece, see what they did with the others pharaohs"
And Kitty is in turmoil as she bites her lips and feel her stomach drop, a knot in her throat prevents her from speaking and Dagon knows he got her attention know(still pondering if she can kill him, the human, with all her faults, is more powerful than he expected and he hates that)
"But unlike the cats, unlike IT, the piece of shit, I can help you, you are strong" and Dagon silent adds ''maybe stronger than me'' as he continues "if you want your parents safe, you could do some missions for me"
"And if I refuse? How can I know you won´t do anything bad with them?"
"So many questions..." Dagon shakes his head "first off, no one will hurt him...but, that´s the kicker, Kitty, they can be in that house forever, until the food runs out, until their health gets worse and worse and then...die in that house and even if they escape, I can make sure that Cameron Pryde has debts and suddenly a criminal report on him and you know...some people do want to play hero and catch those dangerous criminals, dead or alive" and Dagon concludes "but, if you help me with those missions, the cats and dogs won´t need to guard them, they will be safer from any harm, they can leave as they please...if you help me"
"If you broke this promise...I´ll hunt you and destroy you"
"I may be many things, Kitty, but, I never break a promise, not like IT...and let me tell you something, that disgusting creature is always there lurking around in the shadows. Ugly, dirty and dumb...if I was you, I would cut any contact with the cats...that creature is always hungry, always as your lovely friends cats are too"
#coralina au#Dagon is bold#kitty pryde#Poor Prydes#The cats will have to explain some things#The missions will help Kitty later not that Dagon knows that#Dagon really think LK will eat her#Cats and dogs working together
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Blood path au
N/A: Just an idea I got here. EVO AoA au.
@djinmer4 @bamfoftheundead @dannybagpipesarecalling @sailorstar9 @discordsworld @look-ma-no-hands336
Power is the centre of everything. Who has money has power over the ones who do not have. Those who held a higher position in their respective job have power over the ones who are jobless one. Amanda wants power, but, a different type of power. She wants to rule this dimension completely.
Amanda Szardos is the only daughter of Margalia Szardos, the Red Queen, and knows they are made to rule the world, sadly, they have enemies and those enemies have more power than them. A power that forces them to be subjugated.
But Amanda has beauty and ambition and she refuses to be less than a Queen.
"Hence, why I need a demonic dog" Amanda mutters to herself in her room. A cosy place that her magic crafted. Amanda knows how to rule, she needs power and the X-men are a big threat to her, she can´t cast spells left and right because Jean Grey will stop her, or even worse, Storm, the weather witch, will destroy her. Now, if she has a demonic dog...
All the ingredients are set in place. All the herbs, all the scents and all the words, everything is ready, well, except one ingredient. Blood, the life source that makes a person be truly alive.
("Our blood, Amanda, is far too precious than those lowlifes, never forget that" "of course, mother, our blood is proof of our perfection")
"Blood!" Amanda states rolling her eyes. "How cliche" but is a necessary ingredient. Her blood is sacred, the gods themselves crafted the Szardos and thus making their blood be a gift from the gods.
A smile plays in her pretty face. "There´s nothing saying it has to be my blood" and Amanda knows what´s best, after all, she´s the great Amanda Szardos and her fate is to be the most powerful woman in all planet.
The Bayville High School is a place that is more liberal in some terms and more progressive than others. The mutants are still a tough spot to handle, but, the school has the policy of allowing any mutant in the school as long they aren´t a danger to the others.
Amanda wishes she could laugh out loud at how pathetic this situation is. Vermins fighting to see who is less dirty, well, Amanda can pretend to be a good girl with her golden blonde hair and angelical smile. The X-men don´t need to know the future Queen of the world is walking so close to them.
(Mutants, humans who cares. You all are born to serve me- is a thought that keeps Amanda going with such facade, how she longs to give a passionate kiss on her lover, her brother, free of judgment or rules)
Blood.Blood. Blood. This is a word that keeps reeling in her mind, over and over again. She needs blood, but, not any blood, but, blood from someone that is not from the Catholicism.
Amanda is not a true Roma, but, was never baptized either, but, using her own blood is out of the question. Amanda´s eyes travel to the other students, cattle wanting to be massacred for their master.
Biting her fingernail is not a cute display, but, Amanda is a woman of habits and vices, so, her mind is searching for a fit candidate, when, out of sudden the school yard´s heard a loud cry from one of the soccer´s team. "Oh my god, she´s bleeding!"
And all eyes are on the small soccer team member.
Kitty Pryde, with her curly short hair and doe eyes, is on the floor holding her knee in visible pain.
Kitty Pryde is, of course, Jewish and extremely proud of her heritage, Amanda recalls, in one of Bayville´s soccer game that took place last month, the girl did wear the Davi Star at a full display on her uniform(she said something about her Ima, which is Jewish word, wants Kitty to win the game)
Amanda sees an opportunity and is taking by its tail. Putting her best caretaker expression she hushes to the injury Kitty Pryde. "Wait, I´d know first aids," she said looking at the injury and is really bloody, perfect for her plan.
Amanda is cleaning the wound and proceeds to treat as a real doctor or nurse should, then, once getting what she needs, Amanda offers a good story that Kitty needs to go to the infirmary right now.
As Kitty´s friends pick her up and take to the infirmary and at everyone´s eyes Amanda is a real darling. And as people are either worrying for Kitty´s health or praising Amanda for her quick thinking, no one questioned why Amanda didn´t throw away the tissue with Kitty´s blood.
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Back to Amanda´s lair, once her mother is back to her dimension and Steffan is needed in another place(killing children and bring their blood is barbaric but useful for spells, so, Amanda can only wish good luck to her lover) and she has free space and time to do her greatest scheme ever.
"First the school, then the city, then the country and finally, Belasco himself" an evil smile plays on her lips as she uses Kitty´s blood and throws on the pentagram she crafted with chalk.
"Hear me, the demon of hell, come to me and serve your master. Kill my enemies, bring the glory I deserve" the pentagram glows a soft red light and the blood is absorbed.
Nothing happens after that. Amanda tries one more time and this time, there´s no glow.
"Where´s my dog of hell?" Amanda shouts angrily.
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Meanwhile, in the X-men´s mansion, one room is being light even though all the other room has no light, and, to make matters even worse, the said light of this peculiar room is a strong hue of red. This is the room of Kitty "Ariel" Pryde.
This strong light was more than enough to jolt Kitty from her bed, ignoring the pain of her kneel, and promptly grab her weapon close to her. A gauntlet with claws.
A figure steps in from a portal and starts complaining in German(?) and Kitty is a fan of "attack first, question later"
"Vhat?" the figure asked looking at his forearm and then to Kitty Pryde. "What have you done?" a young man with blue fur, tail, scarlet eyes, a red scar in form of lighting bolt and fangs shows up in her room, Kitty won´t be so helpless.
Ariel is a warrior in many subjects, so, if a demon wants to fight Ariel, then, a fight it will happen. So, once again, ignoring the pain, Kitty went to attack the figure. Throwing a good punch out him and letting her fingers phase through his face.
"Who are you and what do you want? Speak quick or your pretty face will be inside out" Kitty speaks as her eyes are gazing upon her scarlet ones fearless. Her other hand is already in his stomach and she can rip him apart if he tries any funny business.
"Rude! you summon me and now tries to kill me?" the figure speaks calmly letting his tail tapping on her injury knee "Thankful for you it was me not my moronic brother who was summoned" the last part has a certain disdain and Kitty has no time to solve the mysteries of the family life of her demonic intruder.
The demonic figure, for his part, is not showing fear, instead, his tail is tapping on her injured knee earning a loud groan of pain and making Kitty lost her balance, she should have fallen from the ground(a rookie mistake as the pain make her lose focus on her intangibility) however, the figure catches her in the last minute.
At this moment, Kitty only narrow her eyes and said with now the same disdain as the figure "I didn´t summon an edge version of Harry Potter"
"The name Darkholme means something to you?" he asked back now a bit confused.
"NO! dammit, I was sleeping and you show up ...and what fuck is going on?"
She notices that Kurt is keeping his sword at the sheath(Two swords and the man can use at any moment) and now is confused and slowly show his forearm. "Did you know what this means?" all the while still holding Kitty as if they are about to kiss.
Kitty tries to phase his organs out, but, his tail is causing pain on her injury once again and the pain is too great to be ignored "No, edge lord," she said and look at how her own forearm and is a shock. They both have the same symbol.
The X-men arrives and the figure shows the symbol making them by surprise. Ororo, the weather witch, looks at the symbol and reconize the symbol in seconds.
"Kitty, did you summon a demon?"
"NO!"
"Congratulations, you now have a demon"
"My name is Kurt Darkholme and not Demon,"
Meanwhile, Amanda is still crying about her faithful demon dog. Maybe Kitty´s blood wasn´t good enough, that´s ok, she can go after more blood.
#blood path au#AoA kurtty#Kurt Darkholme#AoA kitty pryde#Amanda is cray cray#always anti amanda#AoA Evo au
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