#Alma just shakes her head in the distance
Note
By cringe, is it super cringy dad jokes? Because if it is like, Pedro’s got 50 years to make up for it. And honestly, let the grandpa have his fun. Agustin will probably join in and annoy the others to death.
Oh no no not that kind of cringe. Pedro deserved his cringy dad jokes and you just gave me a new idea for a one shot in this universe, so thank you for that dear anon!
I imagine Pedro is a master at cringy dad jokes. You are right he had 50 years to think of them but never be able to apply them so now that he can? Ohhhhh boy, the triplets better watch out
#Alma just shakes her head in the distance#Her dorky husband is just as dorky as she remembers#The grandkids shake in horror because what if Abuelo gives their own fathers ideas???#encanto#encanto fanfic#my pedro lives au
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Waking Lions 14
Find the series masterlist
We learn more about Ace's past and her connection to Kate. Also, she finally gets a meal.
Warnings: swearing, past violence, mention of past murder, Ace is still morally gray, Price still needs his own warning.
Word count: 1.7k
Captain went out first, making sure the way was clear for you as you locked up. You hiked your bag a little higher up on your shoulder and followed him down and out to the street, where an SUV was waiting for you.
“Ma’am.” Garrick nodded to you from the driver’s seat, and you settled in the back.
You looked out the window, tired and a little detached after everything. A quick look showed that you’d been working for nearly twelve hours straight. That was… less than ideal.
“Here.”
You blinked and refocused your gaze on Captain, who’d twisted enough to hand a water bottle back to you.
“Thanks.” You took the water, twisting the cap off slowly and taking a drink. You were definitely dehydrated, but you drank slowly, sips at a time, gaze unfocused.
It had been a hell of a couple days.
Honestly, now that you were thinking about it, you were surprised Laswell had noticed so fast. Was it just timing? Or had she gotten word of Gray poking around?
“Nearly there.”
Captain’s voice made you blink rapidly, lifting your head. Both men were facing forward, which was a bit of a relief.
You still weren’t sure how you were going to deal with Captain yet.
Garrick parked and a moment later Captain was opening your door for you. You almost made a teasing remark about him being a gentleman, but… Well, that was too much effort, and you were tired. You just shuffled after him, watching for Kate.
Kate spotted you first, your eyes locking across the distance. You sighed, long and slow. Oh, this was not going to be fun.
But you still let yourself be herded to a seat across from her, plopping down ungracefully. That didn’t matter. You didn’t need to be graceful right then.
“What happened?” She looked between all three of you.
You picked up the menu and held it in front of your face. Captain could start this one.
“Found her working,” Captain said after a few moments of thick silence. “No evidence of anyone else watching. I doubt anyone knows she’s here.”
“And why are you here?” Laswell pulled the menu down to stare at you. Damn. She was too good at making you admit things.
“Gray found me.” It was not any easier to admit aloud, even after all the work you’d put in burning three aliases. “Got a call from one of my clients, she informed me that he was asking around after me.” You let the menu fall to the table, exhausted all over again. Your hands were shaking. Just a little.
Laswell frowned, leaning back a little in her chair. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure I’m not willing to risk it,” you shot back, tucking your hands under your thighs. Not that you really thought they had missed your shakiness.
“Which contact?” Laswell tapped her fingers on the table. “Who told you?”
You frowned at her. “No.”
“I need to know where to start looking.”
You sighed, tipping your head back. Valeria had called you, but she’d said he had been asking around. Okay. Gray wasn’t the type who went to underlings, so he hadn’t been asking Las Almas in particular. He’d been asking around that layer of criminal organization. Valeria knew some Russians and some AQ, which was how she’d gotten mixed up in the missile business.
It was possible that White was just a coincidence… But now you weren’t so sure. Especially given that the last place you’d heard about Gray was in the Middle East. And the Russians had ties to AQ.
In retrospect, you were amazed you hadn’t put the pieces together sooner.
“He’s probably working with AQ, or adjacent to them.” You spoke quietly, without looking at any of them.
“He wasn’t that eager to watch the world burn,” Laswell pointed out.
“Last conversation either of us had with him was years ago,” you pointed out, dull, flat. “It’s likely his morals have further skewed. Or he’s decided the ends justify the means. Or he thinks he’s using them for his own ends.” You shrugged, just a little movement.
Captain nudged you, and then again when you didn’t straighten up fast enough for him. “You need to eat.”
You thought about arguing, you really did. But he wasn’t wrong. You flapped a hand at him, letting the others order first as you scanned the menu until you found something vaguely appetizing. Good enough.
“So who is this guy?” Garrick asked, glancing between you and Laswell.
“Crazy asshole,” you muttered, leaning back in your seat again. Your eyes burned a little from too many hours spent staring at a screen.
“Bad news,” Lazwell added. “He’s got ties to weapons smuggling, but he hadn’t previously been a terrorist.”
You grimaced but shrugged. Eh. Close enough.
“And why does he want to kill you?” Captain spoke quietly. You could feel his gaze on you.
“He’s wanted to kill me for years.” Your voice was too flat. This was a tone you hadn’t heard from yourself in years. You didn’t like hearing it now. “He decided to take over my father’s business a long time ago, had him killed, tried to have me killed. Didn’t work, obviously.”
“The fact that you turned witness against him didn’t help his opinion any,” Kate pointed out.
You huffed softly. “And you still couldn’t keep him locked up.” But there was no vitriol in your voice. This had happened a long time ago, you’d come to terms with it already.
“You’re staying with someone until we get this sorted.”
That got you to lift your head and glower at her. “No.”
“If he knows you’re alive and he’s searching for you, you’re in danger. Until we can deal with him, you shouldn’t be alone.”
You grimaced. She wasn’t wrong, exactly, but you hated it. “Don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You can stay with us.”
You blinked at the unexpected offer from Captain. “I dunno,” you drawled. “Sure you won’t try to kill me?”
He huffed out a soft laugh. “Not on my to-do list,” he agreed glibly.
“Good.” Laswell looked between the two of you with something very much like satisfaction, which was setting off all kinds of little alarms in your brain. Kate trying to meddle in your life was very much not a good thing. “We can discuss what you still need to do.”
You narrowed your eyes a little at her. “In terms of…?”
“Your research.”
You blew out a soft breath. Right. Research. The thing you were supposed to be doing before you heard about Gray. “Dunno what more I can get,” you admitted, rubbing your forehead briefly. Now that you were actually paying attention to your body, you definitely had a dehydration headache. “Especially not without getting any closer to Gray.”
“You think he’s involved?”
“I think I’d be a fool to assume otherwise at this point.” You rolled your shoulders, drinking half your water in one go.
Laswell was silent for a few long moments, just watching you. It didn’t make you nervous, not after all this time. Sure, you didn’t want her meddling, but you trusted her.
“We’ll discuss this more after you’ve slept on it,” she decided.
You scoffed but didn’t argue. You didn’t have the energy for that. Food arrived and you all ate, though Captain and Garrick talked quietly. You just focused on your food, working through it with a sort of exhausted determination.
“I’ll do some looking on my side,” Laswell said, looking at Captain. You forced yourself to pay attention, though you were fading fast now that some of the frantic desperation of the situation had faded.
Captain nodded. “Tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow,” Laswell agreed.
Captain stood, as did Garrick. It took Captain nudging your chair for you to stand as well, holding back a groan. Yup. You’d definitely spent too many hours hunched over your computer. The three of you were silent as you walked back to the car, Captain opening the door for you again.
“Do you have everything from that apartment?” Captain asked you.
You blinked, slow and sleepy. You needed to not be, but you’d hit your limit. The food had really cemented your fate - rather than invigorating you, the food was sending you on the fast lane to snooze land. So it took you longer than normal to answer him. “Yeah.”
He nodded once, glancing back at you as Garrick started to drive. “You’ll stay with one of us.”
“Bossy.” You made a face but couldn’t muster the energy to truly fight him. Not on this. Not now.
He huffed softly. But he didn’t say anything else. Something you were rather grateful for.
You weren’t up to your normal verbal jousting just at the moment.
The drive to their hotel was silent, and you slowly tipped sideways into the door. Your blinks got longer and slower as you struggled to stay awake, the quiet climate controlled air too soothing.
The car stopped and your door opened. You probably would have slid right out except for Captain bracing you, chest firm under your shoulder and temple.
“C’mon,” he rumbled softly. “Just get upstairs and you can sleep.”
“Not sleepy,” you grumbled, just to be contrary. But you could barely peel your eyes open, instead listing harder into him until he reached across you to unbuckle your seatbelt.
You did make sure you had your bag, though. You needed that. And you refused to give it up.
“Up we go,” Captain murmured, soft and amused and rumbly and entirely too pleasant. You stumbled a little, but Captain held you upright and kept his arm around your waist, guiding you inside.
You didn’t pay much attention to anything, too tired and out of it to bother to try. Captain wouldn’t let you get killed. Or grabbed. Not while he was right next to you, anyway.
A door opened and Captain pulled you through. A moment later he was gently tipping you into a bed, and you sighed as you went entirely limp. He huffed and pulled your shoes off for you.
“Sleep well, love,” he murmured, one finger gently touching your temple.
And you were out.
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Oh, how we change for love | Finnick Odair
Summary : When after the explosion that ended the war, you’re left deaf from the aftermath and Finnick is getting used to adjusting to help.
Warnings : Alma Coin, swears
Notes : I’m not deaf or have hearing loss so if anything I write is offensive, please let me know. <3 SHITTY AND NOT PROOFREAD!!!
Your hand squeezes Finnick’s under the table, the remainder of the Victors spread around the circumference of the marble circle table. It was large, you were at least 15 feet across from Katniss with her head hung low. Prim was gone. You tried to run in and grab her but the bombs went off too soon, turning the 13 year old into dust and just barely letting you stay alive but taking your hearing as payment.
In the hospital, you had waken to Finnick by your side, holding onto your hand. He’ started talking when you realized something was different. Life was put on mute and the sound of the world disappeared. He’d noticed your distress right away, trying to help your panicked state but his words did nothing as you didn’t hear them.
As President Alma Coin finished her speech, everyone had crazed expressions. Everywhere from “what the fuck!” to “best idea.” and you had no idea why. Peeta’s reaction broke your heart, he looked like the fragile boy you’d gotten close to during the 75th games.
You squeezed Finnick’s hand gently, removing him from his trance. He looked over at you, eyes softening while he gave a sad smile. “What did she say?” You whispered quietly—you think you did as no one looked towards you besides Katniss. “She wants to have another Hunger Games.” He tried his best to whisper but a few words you couldn’t make out.
“She wants to Hunger Games?” Oh. The realization hit you like a truck, striking you right in the empty cavity in your chest. “No…” You whisper, shaking your head. There can’t be another game! The whole point of the rebellion was to end the reign of the Capital—the games.
“You may now cast your votes.” You could see Coin say with a fucking smile on her face. You couldn’t make out Annie’s vote but you knew she said “no”. “I’m with Annie. I say no.” Finnick answered, still squeezing your hands.
There was a hammering in your chest, it felt harder to breathe. It was like there was an elephant sitting on your chest. Just the thought of another game, more children dead, you just couldn’t stand it so you stood up and walked out, not caring about whatever anyone else thought.
On the way to Finnick and your’s room, you could feel a presence behind you, following you but at a respectful distance. Right before you entered the room, you felt a hand slide onto your lower back, making you jump in response but relax as you recognized the touch.
“Finn.” You tried to smile but it just didn’t work.
-
You lay with your head on Finnick’s chest, his hand rubbing the small of your back. You two didn’t speak, just enjoyed each other’s company in the quiet and for some reason, hearing Finnick’s heartbeat was calming. His fingers ran through your hair, even making a small braid out of a few loose strands.
“What’s going on in your head pretty girl?” He said to himself but you felt how his chest vibrated.
Isn’t it so weird how years ago, you despised the man and now you dreamt of marrying him? What in the human mind could change so drastically like that?
Your eyelids felt heavy—not that they didn’t always from weeks of no sleep—so you let them flutter close. Your breathing evened out and before the grasp of sleep could pull you away, you managed a few quick words.
“I love you Finn,”
#finnick odair#I need Finnick right now#fluff#hunger games#I wanna kiss Finnick#lovers#mockingjay#fuck Alma coin
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A scene that will definitely not be in the modern Webgott fic but also it assaulted me this morning and refused to let go of my brain so. Yeah. Featuring trans!Webster before anyone knows he's trans.
Mom is in the middle of lighting the shabbat candles when Joe's phone goes off, and no one says a thing. Which is fucking rich, because Joe's always on Ruth's case about phone use during holidays and he's away most of the time, and he doesn't even shut the thing down right away! Ruth turns to Al, whose eyebrows are gratifyingly up in shock even though she's not saying anything.
"Joseph," Mom says, always in German, "turn that thing off, please."
"It's from Germany," says Joe, frowning and not actually turning it off, the rotary phone ringtone growing louder on the second run.
"Just ignore it," Jake says, glancing at Mom before turning back to Joe with a frown. "You don't know anyone in Germany."
"There's Virginia," Joe frowns, thumb already hovering over the screen. "And it's, what, two am over there?"
"All the more reason to ignore it," Ruth dismisses, trying not to sound as annoyed as she feels. "She's probably just drunk at a party somewhere and having a laugh."
Joe's mouth twists to the side, in that way he does when he thinks something might be a load of shit, which Ruth thinks is fucking rich. Virginia Webster has been a little shit in Joe's periphery for as long as Ruth can remember: apparently she insulted him on his first day working for her stupidly rich parents and hasn't stopped being a pain in the ten years he's been driving her and her equally rich and obnoxious family around. Ruth may have never met her—of course not, she lives in New York and is part of the reason why Ruth's eldest brother is a figure mostly confined to high holidays and the occasional New Year break—but she's heard enough to know it's not worth blowing shabbat for her.
"Joseph," Mom says, much calmer than Ruth feels, "ignore it or don't but stop that noise."
"Right," Joe says frowning harder as he gets up from his chair, prompting Judith and Rachel to finally join in the outrage. "I'll be a minute."
Ruth is still gaping, searing at Joe's retreating back as he makes his way up the stairs and tells his employers' daughter he's kind of busy—and in German, no less. At the head of the table, Mom and Al don't even look angry.
"Are you kidding me?" Ruth asks, watching Mom shake her match out. "We're waiting for him?"
"Of course we are, don't be rude, Ruthie," says Mom, frowning at where Joe disappeared.
"But it's not fair!" Ruth protests, not bothering to check her volume. "He's always on my ass about not having my phone out—"
"It's his job," Alma sighs. "He can hardly refuse to answer."
"So what, he could have just said he didn't hear his phone! They see more of him than we ever do already, and now they want him to pick up the phone when he's on leave, too? That's just bullshit!"
"Ruth come on," Jake tries, sighing on the last word, "it's the one time—"
"Yeah, that's how they start!" Ruth insists, frustration mounting at the lack of reaction from the rest of the family, "Next thing you know they'll be doing it every five minutes—"
"After ten years of respecting his time and right before his contract ends?" Judith asks, skeptical. "I think it's more likely there's a real emergency."
"Okay, and if there is why can't she call her rich family about it?" Ruth retorts. "We hardly ever see Joe—"
The heavy footfall of a grown man sprinting down the stairs cut Ruth short, Joe reappearing in the cramped, tiny living room and immediately going for the coat rack. That, at least, makes everyone pay attention. He doesn't even look pissed, is the thing, like it's perfectly normal for your boss--not even that, your bosses' kid--to call you from halfway around the world and start giving you orders long-distance. Ruth is about to protest, when Esther asks:
"You're leaving?"
"Just a couple hours," Joe says, sinking a hand into his pocket, presumably to check for his keys.
"She's not seriously sending you on an errand right now," Judith scowls, but Joe shakes his head.
"She had a car accident."
"Oh, shit," says Mom, one hand coming up to her mouth, "is she okay?"
"She says she's fine," Joe sighs, pausing to rest a hand on the back of Jake's chair and sighs in a way that makes him look profoundly relieved and unfairly burdened at the same time. "But Hoob and Van--I mean, the two guys she was traveling with are dead so she's probably downplaying her stuff."
Ruth's stomach clenches. She doesn't like any of the Websters on principle, and she's big enough to admit she's jealous, sometimes, that this Virginia girl seems closer to her brother than she feels... but she's not enough of an asshole to resent her Joe's concern right now. Basic decency and all that. That doesn't mean Ruth can't get confused, though.
"I don't understand," she tells Joe, "she's in Germany, what the hell can you do from here?"
"She's not in Germany, they were on a road trip to Belgium," Joe says wiping a hand over his face. "Place called Bastogne, apparently. She's got a friend who'll be willing to fly out, but he goes incommunicado during holidays so since his break residence isn't far she asked if I could drive there and let him know the what's what."
"What about her parents?" Mom asks, having firmly veered from potential irritation to concern.
Joe scoffs, dismissive.
"I'm the driver and she called me first, Ma, what do you think?"
Ruth stays quiet, but quietly adds a new, somewhat surprising reason why the Websters sound like fucking assholes. It doesn't make it okay that Joe's going to miss his last shabbat before he has to go back East, but it does make it easier to decide not to give him grief over it. She sighs, twisting her fingers together, and tells Joe:
"You'll be careful on the road, right?"
"Sure."
"And you let us know how it goes," Al adds, no room for argument in her tone.
"Yeah," Joe says, sighing again and fishing his car keys out of his pocket. "I'll eat when I'm back, don't wait up."
Mom nods, but Ruth knows they're all going to wait anyway. It's not like the food can't keep, after all, and as miffed as she was that Joe has to leave at all she doesn't want him to be penalized for helping a friend, thanks. So: they wait. Ruth trounces Jacob at pocker, then looses all of her peanuts to Alma when they bet on UNO, and then they dust off the snakes and ladder board with a corner chewed up from when Esther was little and in her eating paper phase.
And when Joe comes back with the reassuring news that the guy he want to fetch is flying out in the next couple of hours--thank you private jets, apparently--it's with a gift basket that's worth more than Jake's rent, so. There are compensations too.
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Goodbye, Miss Peregrine... Remember Me?
Warnings!
Major Character Death
injury etc
(Please let me know if I should add more warnings)
‘You saved them from Caul but at what cost? You would have done it all over again in a heart beat.’
or
Reader sacrifices themselves for Alma and the children
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Darkness. An ever-growing stretch of nothing but Heartache. Did you lose? You felt as though you had. It was cold. So cold that you very nearly collapsed from the sheer shiver that ran up your spine. There was no blood. Not anymore. Your wounds were buried as deep as the wound that was impaled on what remained of your hollow heart. The explosion was still singing bells in your skull. You whimpered out in pain. At least, she was safe. At least, the children were safe. Your breath was growing thin. This wasn't the plan... But this was the result.
Love. What was love? It was nothing but a cruel evil gaze. Mocking as you fell in deep. Love was uncontrollable. Love is fresh and yet it haunts the soul. Or, despite this, is it only a four letter word? They say one can not know love without kindness, respect and acceptance. But is that the truth? What would you know? You failed at it anyway. Love can leave one empty but it can also make one whole. Love can break or make you. It was a loathsome game. Perhaps love just depends on someone's prospective.
Your right golden eye twitched. Was this really the end? Were you ready to face the fate bestowed upon your shoulders? A familiar voice cried and begged. Your heart yearned to comfort her. But you couldn't see her. The darkness truly had taken it's toll. You hugged yourself. It offered little to no comfort. A waterfall ran down your cheeks. It was eating you out from the inside. Painful and never healing. Pain was a funny thing... Wasn't it? You lay unmoving as footsteps approached. "(Y/n)... Please.. Don't leave me." the ymbryne begged on a broken sob as she collapsed to the burning earth beside you. You felt yourself being lifted from the ashes. A warm delicate hand placed on your cheek, stroking it with all the care in the world. As if terrified to break you. You leaned into the familiar touch for the last... The last time. "Why couldn't you just listen to me..." she hissed in a quiet tone. Of course she would scold you. Even at deaths door.
You attempted to focus your eyes. The vision was blurred but you could make out little things. Alma held you close to her chest. Her hair was an utter birds nest. She would have panicked over it any other day. Yet, you still thought she was gobsmackingly beautiful. A Goddess in her prime. "Is he dead?" you asked. Voice croaking as you did. She let out a sob and nodded. Her children watched from the distance. Too terrified to step towards the two of you. They had just watch you sacrifice yourself... And for what? Miss Peregrine rested her forehead on your own. Her breathe shallow. "Good." you whispered with a smile. You would do it all again in a heart beat.
Miss Peregrine became more possessive in her hold. Holding you tightly. She wasn't ready to say goodbye. She had lost too much already. Your time was ticking... Your heart was slowing. Alma felt fear absorb her shaking form. “(Y/n)... stay with me." she begged a little more desperate than before. Shaking your worn out form. Repeating her words. Begging for you to stay. But you couldn't. It was impossible. Emma had begun to try to distract the rest of the children once she had snapped out of her shock. But her acts were in vain. She could not stop the large tears raining down her face.
You held onto Alma’s hand. In truth, you were terrified. You had no knowledge of what would happen next. Your eyelids grew heavier. You could hear the panic in her normally soothing voice. "Goodbye, Miss Peregrine... Remember Me?" you asked as your last breath left your bloodied lips. A smile stayed on your lips. Even in death. Alma let her sobs tear her throat and the large tears cloud her mind. She cradled your head. Rocking you to and fro.
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Short and sweet?
I know angst.... Don’t kill me yet. I was in the mood for tears.. SO HERE’S MY TRASH!
I will be doing more of Miss Peregrine in the future (Hopefully).
Thank you so much for reading, let me know what you thought? Also I apologise if there's bad grammar... I have dyslexia...
#hurt#sad#angst#miss peregrine x reader#miss peregrines home for peculiar children#reader#sad ending#death cw#alma peregrine#emma bloom#mphfpc
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OFMD Microfic: Renewal
Ed feels like he’s been staring at the grave stone for hours. In fact, for the past eight months he’s visited more days than he hasn’t.
People tell him it will get easier with time but he thinks, tell that to the stone on his chest. Tell that to the wasps in his heart.
Today the burn is sharper and more acute, today on the anniversary of their matelotage it's nearly unbearable.
It’s hardly surprising that in contrast to the bottomless well of hope and joy that this day 18 years ago brought him, wallowing in a pit of despair, this same day strikes him like a sword to the gut.
Eight months has never felt so endless and so brief at once.
He glances up finally to their small cottage in the distance on the cliffs and can just make out Louis and Alma's blonde heads doing their best to appear nonchalant and unbothered as they worry on the porch. At Alma's side he sees her youngest daughter's head popping up over the flowers that line their railing as she jumps up and down to try to get a good look at her miserable sod of a grandpa. He sniffs, shakes himself out of his misery, smiles for the first time in, likely, eight months.
It will never be the same but in them he can still see hope and a reason to push through. In Stede’s eyes and his curls on their heads he finds a way to keep going.
He places a kiss to the top of the grave stone and heaves himself up to his feet with a groan. Things will never be the same, but they don't need to be over.
#ofmd microfic#ofmd#our flag means death#our flag means fanfic#ed x stede#stede x ed#gentlebeard#microfic#ofmd microfic april 16#fic by riri
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Some midnight thoughts of tiny Sil and tiny Ayem being childhood besties...
One star, two stars, three stars, the further she got was ten, and even then she wasn't sure if she had counted the same twice or thrice, how Sil managed to differentiate all of them was beyond her, though constellations, that she knew of, sadly a bit irrelevant to her friend's current endeavour.
"I'm calling that one Mother's Necklace, and that one Smiling Nall, Grandma's Third Eye…" and all sorts of names she heard from his relatives, in all fairness her own family probably was twice the size of House Sotha and yet she only knew of a couple of 'relevant' names to the throne and had met less than half of them, "Talesa's Hand, Uncle's Grin… Watchful Esum."
"Esum?" That one she didn't know, and Alma could've sworn that both Sil and Nall had introduced her to the whole town, "Who's Esum?"
Sil rolled over to look at her, his scarf still covering half of his face and bits of grass dangerously close to poking his eye, "Esum?" She only nodded at his words, "Esum is my dad, or was…"
"Was?"
"He died."
She should've known, Ayem instead of saying a word only gathered her hands on top of her belly and tried warming them up a little, letting the cold night breeze fill in the silence.
"It happened years ago. He still is my father, just… He is no longer here, so 'was' is not a good word."
"I'm sorry."
"You didn't know. It's alright, nobody talks of him anymore, I like talking about him, even if I don't remember much."
She knew the feeling a bit too well, hers was barely in town anymore, tending to whatever duties he may have or at least she was told that, father always came to visit, bruised and with a new scar but he always came to visit nevertheless, she wished to speak all sorts of praises about him, but what if mother found out? What if word got around? Royal affairs, for whatever reason they refused to tell hee, had to remain silent. Her parents didn't even like each other enough to agree on where and what to tell her.
"What about your dad?"
"My dad?" Champion of Boethia, full of tattoos she wanted once grown up, let her play with his knives and refused to look at mother in the eye. He called it a 'temporary thing that brought little Alma to Nirn', whatever that meant, "He is… not around, work and such, he lets me play with his weapons."
"They never said your mother had married…"
"Well, she didn't–" That was it, who needed words when she could shriek loud enough to scare Sil until he jumped.
And next to said jump she got her friend to lose his balance and roll downhill, not without taking her with him, intentionally or not.
"Alma!"
"You asked the thing!"
"I didn't know."
Was she laughing? At least he was laughing too, "I'm sorry–" she tried saying with her mouth covered, "I'm sorry, Sil, is– isn't this gonna scare your mom and she would force us to come inside?"
He shook his head, "No, you would have to scream louder, trust me, I've sneaked around these parts before."
"Sneaked?"
"To see my dad."
"...Oh…"
His eyes looked away as he sat up, putting his knees closer to his body, Ayem followed.
"Sil, you're…" she said as he began softly coughing, something that came from the chest, the smallest amount of shaking in him. She wasn't an expert on magic but she knew fire spells and that if the distance was good enough they could be used to warm someone up. And Sil knew that too, he could handle casting the same spell at the same time.
He doesn't answer when I call him, no ritual seems to work, but I know he's there, I'll get it one day."
What was she even meant to say? "We shouldn't have come here when you have a cold…" maybe she could switch topics, though it seemed like a bad idea, "Do you think you can handle being here?"
"Yes," he said, "I'll be fine, I just wanted to show you here before you were gone."
"Why this place?" The grass was the greenest, the sea underneath them, waves would splash them if the tides were higher.
"It's quiet. And you can count stars, I don't know when you'll visit next, and you're my friend, so…"
She nudged him a little, hugged him before Sil finished speaking, "I'm coming back soon, this better than the palace…"
"How so?"
"You're here. And you're my friend. Better than maids and royal nannies."
He smiled at that, softly pushing her aside, pulling his scarf higher and the hood of his robe up. "Sorry for the dad thing."
"No need to."
"If your mom is being mean you can borrow mine, she liked you already."
"Thanks," she sighed, mother was not around, and Sil wouldn't tell anyone, he hadn't told any of his family she was a princess or even her House, he told her a lot already, it was only right she spoke, "Wanna know something about my dad? He's the strongest Boethia's Champion all of Resdayn has ever seen, and that's not all."
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Chapter One- it all Begins
The Cruise was sailing away. Rose looked out the window and she could only see just the ocean in her room now she was waiting for 3 other people. She was nervous and her mind was just pure anxiety. Suddenly she hears knocking on her room door. She goes to the door and opens it
She sees a female, Isabella “Bell” Beaufort who has sage green head coverage, Logan walker, a ghost mask male who is in all black, And Alex Keller A normal looking guy
“Oh hey, your “Isabella, Logan, and Alex? Right?”
“We are, And Rose, Right?” Alex asked as she nodded “Great we have the right room” Isabella and the two boys went in “Damn I didn’t know their beds were big and comfy,” Logan said as he put his luggage down and jumped on the bed “Yea, before the war in Afghanistan'' Alex said as he lay in his back relaxed “Walkers right and I heard tonight before the war were going have a party downstairs” He chuckled “Wait really?” Rose asked, “Yea Did you not hear the announcer silly?” Isabella asked Rose “OH YEAAAA” Rose remembered “ So got anything to wear for tonight” Logan Snickered. “I do” Rose Raised her hand as she felt the waves growing and rising the whole boat “You ok Rose?” Asked Isabella
“Yea yea, Just got startled because of the waves uh I wanna go explore the whole downstairs plus that's where most people are,” Alex said “Yea me too,” Logan said “I'm in,” Isabella said
“Rose, are you coming?” Asked Logan as all three People started to look at her thinking “I mean what could go wrong?” Rose then said “Yippee Rose come on” Logan jumped as all 4 then walked outside their room.
Once they used the elevator it took them down
Once they got down “Woah” Rose was amazed at how big the main hall was like a casino. “Damn, whoever made this must have been rich,” Rose assumed. They walk around to see a lot of people having fun before the war but Rose could feel an eerie feeling that something is about to go wrong but shakes it off afterward.
Suddenly
“Heyy Rosie's cheeks” Two Cuban girls Marina Garcia and Catalina Garcia startled her as she turned around “Oh Hey Garcia twins” She greeted them. Those 2 looked like Y2K babes. Then the 4 grabbed a drink just to hear “Oi Rose I never knew you were here”
“Alejandro Vargas?” She was surprised to see him there “Oh my god dude, It's been a long time since the Las Almas mission”, she said “yea I know, And I see you brought your little friends”, he chuckled looking at Bell, Logan, and Alex. “Hola, Vargas person,” Isabella said nervously. She looks at the groups from a far distance. She could see other soldiers, Henry McTavish, and his boys getting a beer, Lincoln, and Amanda holding hands, Daisy and Abby having their little girls' night, and fun for everyone I mean what could go wrong? She then feels a gust of wind. “The fuck” she said to herself but it was probably movement.
“Hold up, is that Paint It Black by The rolling stones??”
Asked Logan as Daisy and Abby sang that song.
Then she overheard 2 boys talking about the titanic which
Made Rose start to go uneasy but shake it off as she looks at her metal keychain having 180.
and then flipping it over to see the cruise ship on its side of the ocean. ‘Hm, weird”
Then the waves grew
Bigger
Bigger
And Bigger
“Fuck.
There was a storm and thunder.
All 5 people started to notice and Stuff was moving from the one that said. Screams were heard as the cruise ship moved a lot
“Shit”
“What the hell-”
“Guys come on” She panicked and ran and Isabella and the three men started to follow her “Shit where do we go?” asked Isabella.
Rose tries to look for a way out but she can't think then seeing one soldier fall to death not from the ocean the death slipping and cracking his back which made her panic “I DON’T EVEN FUCKING-”
Soon the cruise started to speed up fast and when almost everyone lost their balance
she sees Alejandro running, tripping, then the ship side went left and Alejandro and all the other people slit to the left where it had a shard of glass which impaled his throat.
She then saw Henry Mctavish Getting tied up and Impaled by the eye, She sees one soldier hanging on for dear life as she ran up to him “Here, Take my hand” Rose said as the male soldier held onto her but tripped on something else
“FUCK I CAN HOLD ON UGH-” As soon He was struggling to get up as he letter go screaming as a glass shard cutter opened his eyes he fell there into the ocean As soon as she got up.
Rose looked around and saw people getting slammed. Impaled, Shot by shards of glass, even on the eye, People choking, and people trying to hang on to stuff and each other, it was like a bloody Fiesta. Alex flew outside at a fast speed but got impaled by a big Hook. Logan's leg got tired by a chain that dragged him to an open electrical room and then electrocuted him until his body exploded. Isabella started to fly to the wall and broke her skull leaving so much blood.
And Rose was trying to look for a way out. Rose looked at her friends as she was trying to get out but it was too late. All her friends die as she grabbed a dagger and stabbed the floor to let her hold on. She saw the lifeless bodies gathering on one side. The cruise ship started to tumble and tip to the left and everybody was already dying rose, let go shrieking as she joined the bodies and a table fell onto her which smashed her head making a lot of blood.
Then everything went black and it was all back to normal
Back at the table, she was scared and was about to cry. “Uhh is she ok?” asked one soldier
Soon Hailey heard the boys talking about titanic
And the song Paint it black also played on the karaoke, she starts to panic and then looked at her metal keychain which had 180 this time she turned it showing a picture of the cruise on the side. “Shit”
She then realized that her vision was a premonition.
“We have to get out of here” She whispered “What?” Logan wanted to hear it again “THE CRUISE IS GONNA COLLAPSE” She gets up and runs to the middle “ What The Fuck is your fucking problem dude? In response, Oliver Tuffin, another soldier who became annoyed, said, “Were we all going to fucking die, are we all going to” she said he said, “No we’re not just calm down,” he replied. Meanwhile, Isabella whispered to Logan and Alex, “Maybe Rose is right.” Alex replied, “Yeah, I think she is right.” When Logan looked outside, it was broken. He knew what she was talking about when “Guys-
“I SAW IT I FUCKING SAW IT I SAW THE WHOLE THING-”
Then they felt the waves grew
Bigger
Bigger
And Bigger
“Oh fucking SHIT”
It was all real People started to scream as Rose knew that everything in her Vision was a hunch, “ISABELLA, LOGAN, ALEX “ she ran to find them “ROSE” she found Then near the left Windows “Rose I think you were right,” Isabella said, “Everybody Break the window!” Rose yelled to everyone as she started breaking the window for a way out. Although
The Cruise then started to speed up as everyone including Rose began to get out to the dock and held on to some. “Not today Satan” Oliver whispered hanging on a railing. Rose got her walkie Talkie turned on and said “BRAVO 6 CALLING FOR BACKUP”. “IS THIS SOME KIND OF STORM?” Asked Isabella.” LOOK I SEE THEM” Alex pointed out but did not price with the team, it was other people who had medics and people who tried to pick up many people. and there were so many in this Waterstorm
All the helicopters also letter down for the struggling soldiers to escape the speed.
“GUYS GRAB ON,”
She said as everyone climbed up the rope, so did Hailey along with Isabella, Logan, And Alex. The storm became stronger as people rose faster to get in the helicopter
She saw people falling off and ALOT people falling off, while Vargas on the other hand is struggling.” C'mon Vargas” Alejandro climbed and Grabbed Rose's hand as she helped him. So did Oliver, Montgomery “Blade” Kutzin.
Catalina and Marina. Just as the ship fell to its side once people were inside while a lot never made it.
“HOLY SHIT”
“OH MY FUCKING GOD, THE SHIP”
One soldier was shocked as everyone was confused and surprised, and it flashed before their eyes. And Rose was even surprised but never saved anything “Rose... How the fuck did you know?” asked Alejandro but, Rose was so shocked that she can’t even comprehend the sentence
“I...I saw it, I saw it before it even happened, We were on the Cruise until The waves sped up the Cruise ship, and everything went crazy and there was blood everywhere and everybody was falling, Bodies gathered, Blood spilled, and squirted everywhere and- ” Oliver suddenly knew what she was talking about
“Hey, I think I heard about this before, the 180 plane crash, The route pileup, The devil's flight, The McKinley Raceway, and -” Oliver started to know what Rose yelled to get off the cruise for. “Oh shit... You were right, The accidents that I listed had one person save people just like you Hailey” Oliver said “What is that supposed to mean?” asked Logan “Well, I don’t know, that's all I can tell and I don't know that much about it all I can say that those were similar to you, Those dreams the 5 had, were real, just like yours Hailey” Hailey was getting it now “Fuck, So what now?” she asked the soldiers if they were gonna continue the mission or not “I don’t know, I mean Kate and Norris are with the others so I don’t know whos gonna be the Colniel” Alex said.
#cod deaths mission#call of duty#hailey rose quinn#cod#cod mw oc#isabella bell beaufort#montgomery danger russo#logan walker#alex keller#final destination au#if call of duty and final destination had a baby#ocs
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Random head canons for Encanto, mainly Pepa and Félix bc they are : the best
Félix was a farmers son who sold his families wares at the market. He was always jokingly playful and flirty and charming with everyone who came to his stand, including Alma (part of the reason why she loved him and was 1000% on board with him getting together with Pepa).
Pepa tried to pretend like she wasn’t interested and tried to pretend that his persistent flirting annoyed her but a rainbow would always come out at first when he turned on the charm, and then it started getting hot and humid out when he upped the flirting
The first few times Félix came over Casita kept them a respectable distance apart, not letting them disappear into a room by themselves without being properly chaperoned… Casita acted like an over protective father, so, the next time Félix came over that’s exactly what he treated it as. Calling it, ‘Señor’, being overly respectful and prudish, shaking whatever the house equivalent of a hand is… Eventually, like he always does, he won over Casita as well
They weren’t each others firsts, but they were each others best
Pepa always liked stocky buff guys. It makes her feel protected
One of the only times Félix FLIPPED on Alma is when something was going wrong with Dolores’ birth and Pepa was FREAKING out and flooding the valley because of how terrified and emotional and scared she and Alma told her to calm down and get rid of the clouds
The second time is at Dolores’ gift ceremony. Instead of a fun go lucky time like theirs and Isabela’s, Dolores started SCREAMING and covering her ears and crying and Alma told the crying scared five year old and her panicked mother they were embarrassing the family
Bruno was supposed to walk Pepa down the aisle but after the incident she told him to leave so Alma walked her down instead. Alma also walked Julieta down the aisle when she married three years later
Pepa and Félix are considered the best dancers in the family
One of the big reasons Isabel doesn’t like Mariano is he’s way too touchy feely and overly affectionate, and she grew up idolizing the soft gentleness romance of her parents. Dolores on the other hand sees how affectionate and physical her parents are and she wants that so bad. Mariano is exactly that.
Their love language is OBVIOUSLY physical touch
Pepa always makes sure that she tells her children she loves them, and makes sure to hug them and kiss them a LOT bc she knows what it’s like to grow up with a mom who wasn’t all that physical with you
Alma hated looking into her and Bruno’s eyes when they were younger, and even now she isn’t a fan of looking at them. Pepa and Bruno always used to think it was just her being distant until they realized they had their fathers eyes and even after all this time it hurts to look at them and see Pedro
Whenever Isabel would be favored and treated special Pepa would make sure Dolores and her would have a special day out, just the two of them.
She was never jealous of Julieta, but she was jealous (and mad) how her sisters kids seemed to be favored by Alma over her own
Félix isn’t super close to Camilo, but the SECOND he overhears someone talking shit on his child because they identify as they/them, he is whipping everybody’s ass and defending tf out of Camilo.
They have had sex on every single inch of their room and on every piece of furniture
#encanto#i love pepa#pepa madrigal#felix madrigal#la familia madrigal#encanto pepa#félix x pepa#pepa headcanon
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Encanto Heacannons
Butterflies where Pedro’s favorite animals
Luisa’s favorite animals are unicorns and kittens. she hangs motivational pictures of them up in her gym/room for when she is working out.
Isabela does not actually have “effortlessly perfect hair or skin”. she actually has a huge array of cosmetics she uses to keep up her image, and has to wake up hours before everyone else to make sure she get the bathroom for a long enough time to apply them.
Alma has not gotten a full night of sound sleep since she became a mother. Her houses noise level has not been the reason in many years.
Agustin’s birth family own a small orchard where they make and sell jars of jam and honey. Agustin has had bad luck with bee keeping his entire life, but honey is one of Julieta’s favorite cooking ingredients, so anytime she is out Agustin goes right out to get her more fresh.
Pepa was very literally walking on clouds for 2 straight weeks after the first time Felix told her he loved her.
Antonio has always loved animals since before he could walk, and even before getting his gift always drew pictures of himself with Toucan wings or the whiskers and tail or a jaguar.
Dolores is the family bookworm. Books don’t make noise and reading a good one can help her tune out how loud everything/everyone sound. In addition to fur-lind (sound proof) walls the middle of her room is set up like a library,with rows of shelves, many books, and lounge furniture for her to sit and read in.
whenever Mirabel does her sewing or embroidery she will tilt her head a bit to the right, and stick the tip of her tung out the left corner of her mouth. She doesn’t mean to do this, its just something that she does automatically. When her neck starts to ach she takes it as a sign to put down what she is working on, and find something else to do for a little bit.
Camilo cannot stay still for 2 minutes, that is just something he cannot do. He will inevitably start to shake his knees or fidget with his hands. His body language does not change when he changes. This is what makes it easy for Felix and other members of the family to recognize Camilo even when he is pretending to be someone else.
When they both shared the nursery Antonio would sleep in Mirabel’s bed anytime he had trouble sleeping. In the week leading up to his ceremony he asked Mirabel if she would move into his new room with him so she could still be around on nights he cannot sleep. She was really sad wen she had to tell him no (Camilo had originally offered to share his new room with her when her door disintegrated) and explained to him that his new room would be designed specifically for him and for honing his gift. After this is when she started making the stuffed jaguar
Mirabel wears glasses because she is farsighted (her vision is stronger from a distance than up close). Alma and Bruno have similar problems with their vision and both used to wear glasses. Alma lost hers while fleeing from the soldiers, and in her grief lumped “perfect vision” in with her old home, former city, husband, and happiness as “one more thing they took from me”. Bruno smashed his glasses himself once in a fit of hatred for his powers and what they made his life into.
#Encanto#the Madrigals#Madrigal family#Alma Madrigal#Abulitia#Julieta Madrigal#Agustin Madrigal#Pepa Madrigal#Felix Madrigal#bruno madrigal#isabela madrigal#dolores madrigal#luisa magridal#camilo madrigal#mirabel madrigal#antonio madrigal#pedro madrigal
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Always Yours | Bruno Madrigal - CH3
Always Yours | Bruno Madrigal x OC(Fem)
PROLOGUE | CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6
fanfic rated mature(M) for language and suggestive scenes
part rated: (T)
word count: >1000
warnings: no warnings unless you can't handle fluff
⧖
The following few months were the same. Reina had become closer with the entire Familia Madrigal and secured herself a job as a local artist. In her younger years, due to a severe lack of a social life, she was prompted to pick up a paintbrush. A steady income was coming her way as she received more commissions from the people of the Encanto. There were no set hours, which she loved, deadlines were varying but never too pushy.
Often times, Reina would have the older kids, Isabela and Dolores show up at her house asking to play. She had babysat Luisa a few times for Julieta to go out and enjoy a night with her husband. Pepa and Julieta in their free time would come share stories of their day over a drink. Señora Alma had shared stories of her father with her.
But nothing prepared her for him. Bruno Madrigal. The man in green. As promised, every night, well… most nights, as sometimes one would be busy; the two would meet at the top of the hill and sit on the grass in front of Casita. They would talk the night away under the stars and hear the laughter of the town in the distance. When Bruno found out that Reina is an artist, he took immediate interest, asking to see all her works. And seeing them only blew him away further, he thought there was no way she could be real. Talented, pretty, kind and understanding. She had to be a fragment of his imagination. Something his head had made up to calm his constantly aching heart and hold his shoulders up from weighing any further to the floor.
But then; how could the rest of his family see her if she was nothing but a hallucination. He doesn’t know, but she was certainly too good to be true. Reina thought the same of him. Of course, she had heard the gossip around town, it was impossible not to. However, sitting next to that man, if you had listened to him speak and looked into his beautiful, doe eyes, all those rumours would be washed away. And she was not prepared, not prepared for how deeply, and quickly she had fallen. He, the same, both too scared to do a thing about it in fear the other would think differently and exit out of their life.
“So, let me get this right,” Reina placed a finger to her lips as she thought. “Fernando likes Violeta, but Violeta likes his brother, Eduardo.”
“Yep, yes,” Bruno nods excitedly. “But she is originally arranged to wed the brothers’ tío. So, it’s like, it’s a forbidden situation you know?”
“Bruno Madrigal, have you ever thought about becoming a writer?” He was so creative; Reina knew that much. And his face lighting up excitedly as he spoke of his ideas, it was all too precious for her heart to handle.
“No, that’s not what the Familia wants. Mamá makes us promise when we get out gifts to use them to help the Encanto, so that is what I need to do.” Bruno looks down to his hands in his lap, weaving his fingers together and then unwinding them.
“But what do you want?” Reina asked in the softest voice Bruno had ever heard. When he looked up, his eyes had met hers, glistening a beautiful blue, reflecting the stars in the night sky. If you asked him, he would say that her irises were their own sky, and he could look at them all day.
“I want- I just want people to accept me,” he admits, shaking his head and managing to bring his eyes away from hers. “I want people to know that I’m not evil, that I’m not trying to have bad visions.”
“Lo sé.” Reina felt her heart drop for the man beside her. The kindest man who has struggled so much. In a moment that contained no thought, she had tugged him into her. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and it only took him a short moment to wrap his own arms around her and tuck his head into the crook of her neck. “I know that you aren’t evil, you are the best man I’ve ever know.”
“Gracias,” Bruno blinked the tears from his eyes pulling back from the embrace to softly smile at the woman.
“The best man alongside my papá of course.”
“I’ll take it,” he chuckles at her innocent eyed form.
“¡Ay Dios mio!” Reina exclaimed, jumping up from the ground. “I didn’t realise how late it had gotten. I best be getting home.”
“I’ll walk you,” Bruno smiles, lifting himself from the grass.
“No, you don’t need to Bruno, it’s out the way for you.”
“I insist. Besides, you said it yourself, it’s late. The crime rate in the Encanto may not be very high but I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened.” How could anyone think this man was a harbinger of evil?
“Gracias, Bruno.”
It was only a ten-minute walk to the home of Reina. But it felt like five with the man who walked so closely beside her, with his excited chatter and intense listening whenever she spoke. And she’d never forget his flustered face when his flip flop caught on a brick and he nearly fell face first onto the ground, the loud laughter that escaped both their lips after he recovered probably woke up the entire neighbourhood.
“My fierce protector, hm?” The laugh emanated from her chest.
“¡Silencio, por favor! It’s embarrassing enough already.”
“Oh, Bruno. You could never even hurt a fly.” Reina nudged him with her arm as she took in the sight of the pinkish tint on his olive-coloured skin.
“You’re one to talk,” Bruno crosses his arms over his green ruana. He was so embarrassed, she probably thought he was weak now. But the giggle that escaped her lips immediately caused his arms to fall back to his sides and smile along with her as they reached her house.
“Well, this is me,” she gestures to the humble home behind her. The two couldn’t help the slight disappointment that showed on their faces as it reached the time to say goodbye for the night.
“I’ll, um, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Bruno questioned.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Reina smiled brightly at the man as she opened her door.
“Buenas noches.”
“Buenas noches, Bruno. Get home safely.”
And so, he walked home with pink cheeks and a giddy smile on his face, the sound of her voice saying his name repeating in his head over and over again. It just sounded… so right. Everything about her, felt so right.
⧖
would anybody be interested on being on a taglist?
#fanfic#fanfiction#oc#oneshot#one shot#encanto#disney#disney encanto#bruno madrigal x reader#bruno madrigal#bruno#madrigal family#mirabel#camilo#luisa madrigal#camilo madrigal#luisa#mirabel madrigal#dolores madrigal#dolores#antonio madrigal#antonio#isabela#isabela madrigal#abuela#encanto headcanons#bruno headcanons#headcanons#bruno encanto x reader
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Dancing with the Double-Edged Sword (Ch. 2)
Bruno Madrigal x Original Female Character
WARNING: Recreational Drug Use Mentioned
Rating: M
(Masterlist)
Hernando watched from across the plaza as the last stragglers stumbled out of the cantina, the hood of his, well, Bruno’s, green ruana covering his face to help him blend into the shadows. Mila lingered by the front door, making sure the stragglers were a safe distance away before casting her gaze over the empty streets. He watched as she left the door cracked open, ducking back inside to continue closing the place down.
Making sure there were no lingering eyes that could catch him, he darted across the plaza, slipping into the cantina and shutting the door behind him with a soft thud. The room was illuminated by a few candles and lanterns, most having already been put out as a sign to the villagers that the last call was approaching.
Mila stood at one of the tables, wiping it down with a rag, her hair drawn to one side, exposing the skin of her neck. Hernando couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his mouth on her skin, feel her pulse quicken under his tongue. Shaking such thoughts out of his head, he strolled towards her, whistling lowly to catch her attention.
“Right on time,” she commented, her gaze remaining focussed on the table.
“For you, of course, bebita ,” he shrugged with a sly grin, bringing his hand down to stop her cleaning, “shall we?”
She pulled her hand away from his, but he noticed the faint blush when he touched her. Glancing over his shoulder, she made sure the shutters on the windows were locked and that the back door was locked.
“Did you bring your pipe or are we using mine?” she asked, walking over to the bar.
“I figured we’d use mine,” he said, following close behind her.
He took a seat at the booth he occupied this morning, pulling his tobacco pipe and a box of matches from his pocket. His eyes followed Mila closely as she went around the bar, poured two glasses of wine and pulled a small wooden box from one of the cabinets. HOlding the glasses in one hand, she carried the box in her other, making her way to the booth, her eyes focussing anywhere but on him.
“Are you trying to get me drunk, hermosa ? Because I would have no issue seducing you sober,” he teased, licking his lips as she sat beside him.
“I figured a nice summer wine would pair well with this strand, Leo’s been experimenting with the amount of water and sunlight the plants get and he’s been noticing different flavors and effects,” she said, not even bothering to acknowledge his flirtatious comment.
Opening the box, she pulled a small leather satchel from inside, reaching into the bag to pull out a single dense bud of green herb. Yerba was not anything new to the country, having existed even before Alma created the Encanto. Mila’s family had just happened to be the ones to find a collection of the plant and take advantage of its proximity to their home.
“Light this for me, will you?” she asked, tossing a small cone of incense at him before using her fingers to pick the dense bud apart, breaking it into small enough pieces to fit into Hernando’s pipe.
After the incense had been lit and the yerba broke apart as much as possible, Hernando handed his pipe to her, sipping his wine as she loaded the herb into the bowl of the pipe. He slid the box of matches towards her, watching closely as she brought a flame to the bowl, her lips wrapping around the other end and inhaling slowly. He couldn’t help but momentarily envy the pipe, imagining how her lips might feel against his own.
“Were you being serious about what you said earlier? About Bruno?” she asked, handing him the pipe after she had exhaled slowly, smoke drifting around them.
“About him being head over heels in love with you?” he asked, taking a slow drag and holding his breath as she shyly nodded, her fingers playing with the stem of her wine glass.
“I had my suspicions but…was never completely sure,” she shrugged, taking a slow drink.
“I would not lie about such things, hermosa . Bruno is just too awkward to do anything about it,” Hernando huffed, passing the pipe back to her.
“How would that work? If Bruno and I…started spending more time together?” she questioned, more to herself than to him before taking another slow drag.
“I imagine mi mamá would be ecstatic,” Hernando shrugged, “she worries that he won’t find someone due to his…reputation for bad visions…”
“I mean with you…how would that work with you?” she clarified, meeting his gaze, her eyes drooping just slightly from the effects of the yerba beginning to set in.
He grinned, his body and mind starting to relax as the herb worked its magic. He could faintly see the slight tint of red in her eyes begin to set, an unfortunate side effect of the herb that was a dead giveaway for those who smoked it.
“Well, you’d be getting two for the price of one, I don’t see the issue,” he shrugged, smirking.
“I”m serious, Hernando,” she huffed, but couldn’t help the small smile as her inebriated state made it hard to have serious discussions.
The yerba had different effects on different people. When Hernando smoked, he became much more relaxed, his serious demeanor slightly lowering and his irritability disappearing completely. Mila on the other hand became very giggly, finding even the simplest of things funny when she had smoked too much or a particularly strong strain.
“What do you want me to say, querida ? I’ve never had to worry about such things before,” he said, leaning on his elbows closer towards her.
“Let’s say,” she giggled, “hypothetically, Bruno and I…start becoming romantically involved…does that mean that…we also become…?” she trailed off, choosing to drink the rest of her wine rather than finish her sentence.
“I imagine that’s how it works, si ,” he teased her, finishing his own glass, “we share the same body, therefore, you would be ‘involved’ with both of us,” he nodded, noticing how her blush grew more prominent, perhaps from the wine, but he suspected it was more from the conversation.
“It’s not like you get to decide who’s present, it just happens right?” she asked before taking another drag from the pipe.
He nodded slowly. “It just happens, like waking up after a nap, I’m a little confused at first, but relieved when I realize I’m in control.”
“Would Bruno…feel different from you? Like, if I kissed him, would I be able to tell it was him and when it was you?”
“You want to kiss Bruno?” he asked with a growing smirk, “tsk, tsk, que traviesa ,” he teased.
She hit his arm in response, but laughed lightly, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Handing him the pipe, she sat quietly for a moment, thinking about her next choice of words.
“Bruno’s very sweet, a little awkward and strange, but…I like that about him…so if I like him, does that mean I like you too?” she pondered quietly.
“That depends, do you want to kiss me right now?” he asked, sliding closer to her until their bodies were pressed right next to each other.
She tried to come up with a smart comeback, but with Hernando so close, flooding her senses with everything that was him, she found it difficult to think of anything. He noticed immediately, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her to him, setting the pipe down.
“Be honest, bebita ,” he said lowly, bringing his free hand to caress her cheek, brushing his thumb over her lips.
“I…I don’t know,” she mumbled, her eyes drifting from his eyes to his mouth and back again.
“I think you do know, you’re just afraid to say it,” he responded, leaning closer to her, “consider this a trial run, maybe one day, if Bruno ever works up the courage to tell you himself how he feels and you allow him to kiss this pretty mouth, you can tell me later if there was a difference,” he said with a dark chuckle, brushing his nose against hers, feeling her body tense in his grasp.
“Hernando,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed, “I don’t…” she trailed off, unsure of what she even wanted to say.
“Shh, bebita , just give in to your desires, it will be our little secret,” he said, his mouth brushing against hers, but never pressing fully, wanting her to be the one to engage first.
He watched her hesitate, eyes still closed, but mouth moving towards him. He waited, wanting to see what she would do at this moment. When her mouth finally pressed against his, he groaned, eyes closing as his grip tightened even more around her.
Her hands grasped the collar of his shirt, holding him in place as their lips moved against each other. He couldn’t help the low groan in his throat when he felt her tongue swipe at his bottom lip, opening his mouth slightly, tasting the remnants of wine on her tongue. She jerked in surprise when he nipped at her lower lip, just rough enough to startle her, but not enough to hurt her.
“Oh, mi niña preciosa , you don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he growled against her mouth, feeling her body shudder at his words.
“Nando,” she gasped, feeling his mouth drift down her jaw to her neck, his teeth nipping at the skin where her pulse beat against his mouth.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked against her neck, his tongue and teeth working a small bruise on the skin just below her ear.
She shook her head frantically, a soft whine escaping her lips when he nipped at her collarbone. Needing to hear more of her pretty noises, Hernando pulled her into his lap, his arm remaining around her waist as his free hand drifted to grasp her thigh over the thin material of her skirt. She gasped as he settled her comfortably against his thighs, her hands lacing through his curls as she reconnected their mouths more aggressively this time, desperate to taste him.
“I don’t think Bruno would kiss me like this,” she gasped, pulling away for air as he continued to leave wet open-mouthed kisses along her neck and collarbone.
“Perhaps not, but you can’t deny you’re enjoying this,” he groaned, feeling her press hard into his groin.
“Shut up,” she huffed, bringing his mouth back to her own, their kissing becoming more intense and sloppy as he ran his hands up and down her body.
Her body was warm against his own, he could feel his cock beginning to harden as she shifted on top of him, pressing her chest into his as she sighed and panted against his mouth. This girl would have given Bruno a heart attack at this point, so hungry for his touch, their touch.
“Easy, bebita , keep moving like that and I might not be able to stop myself,” he groaned into her mouth, feeling her body stiffen at his words.
Pulling back from him, she looked down, her breathing uneven as the situation began to settle in. Here she was, alone in an empty building with Hernando Madrigal, sitting in his lap and grinding on him like an animal in heat.
“What’s wrong, hermosa , afraid you won’t be able to stop yourself, either?” he smirked, his head tilted back as he lazily gazed up at her, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she murmured, scrambling off of him, putting as much distance as the small booth allowed between them.
Once he had a moment to gather his thoughts, he took in the sight of her, hair mussed, lips slightly swollen from his biting, cheeks blushing profusely. She was breathtaking to him at that moment. He sighed, finally acknowledging what she just said.
“Our secret, querida ,” he reassured her, picking up his pipe to find only a clump of ash remained.
“Will Bruno…know?” she asked softly, fidgeting in her seat.
“No, he doesn’t seem to remember the things I get up to, how else could I continue to see you for these smoke sessions?” he asked, readjusting his clothes that had become ruffled in their previous activities.
“But you remember everything he does?” she questioned.
“Mostly, there are some parts of his day that are a bit fuzzy, but for the most part, I remember what he sees and thinks.”
“Would he be upset if he knew…that we…kissed?” she asked, blushing furiously as she spoke.
“That’s a question you’d have to ask him yourself, in a way, you kissed him, if that makes you feel any better,” he shrugged, but she noticed the slight bitterness in his tone.
“Here,” she said, gathering a few buds of yerba in her hand and giving it to him, “this should hold you over for a week or so.”
“Pleasure doing business with you, bebita ,” Hernando muttered, sliding out of the booth and making his way to leave.
“Just so you know,” she said as he reached for the door, causing him to stop, “I did enjoy it…”
Rather than leave her with a snarky comment, Hernando just smiled to himself, exiting the building without another word. As he walked home, the herb tucked safely in his pocket, he replayed the events that just happened, envisioning Mila’s pretty noises and how her body felt against his own, how soft her skin was, how warm she was, the sweet scent that invaded his senses while she sat on top of him. Yes, Bruno would have a lot on his hands if he ever managed to make his move, but it’s nothing the two of them couldn’t handle…
#bruno madrigal#bruno madrigal imagine#bruno madrigal fluff#bruno madrigal x ofc#bruno madrigal x female reader#bruno madrigal fanfic#bruno madrigal fanfiction#bruno madrigal has DID#bruno madrigal needs a hug#bruno madrigal x oc#bruno madrigal encanto#encanto fanfic#encanto imagine
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🌸 -- Alma had been bedridden for weeks. Mirabel had tried not to let it get to her, but in the back of her mind she knew. She noticed the way Alma stared at people but seemed to be staring at some … distance. It scared Mirabel. But she would never let anyone see that, she had to be strong for everyone. So she kept a smile on her face every time she came into her abuelas room. And she would pray every night that she would be fine the next day. That if she went into Abuela's room, she would be fine. She had to be fine.
🌸 -- Mirabel woke up that morning, checked on her, and she was fine. She was reading a book, and she waved at her. Mirabel talked to her for a little -- talked about how her children were doing, how the rest of the Encanto was doing. She was fine. She was breathing. Mirabel had a lot of business in the village today, so she promised to be back later. She promised to bring her dinner herself. She kissed Alma on the forehead, and walked out.
🌸 -- Hours later, when the sun began to set, Mirabel came home. She helped Julieta cook dinner. She laughed with her children. She cleaned up Casita. And after all that, she was heading upstairs with food for her abuelita. She knocks on Alma’s door, before opening it. “Abuela?”
🌸 -- No response. Mirabel sees her figure laying down on her bed, and chuckles. Must’ve fallen asleep. Mirabel places the plate on her night table, and lights a candle. Mirabel sits on Alma’s bed, and gives her a little shake.
🌸 -- “Abuelita, wake up. Mamí made your favorite.” She whispers. No response. Another little shake. No response. She tries to ignore the panic that wants to rise in her chest. Another shake, and another.
🌸 -- “Mami,” she says out loud, checking Alma for a pulse. There is none. “Mami! MAMI!”
🌸 -- “¡ABUELAS GOT NO PULSE!”
She can hear the panicked footsteps coming up the stairs. But at that moment, all that matters is trying to wake up Alma. The gentle shakes turn into frantic shaking. She swears she could hear the others voices -- her mother? Her sisters? All of them sound the same, they’re not important. “Abuela, por favor, por favor,” She begs, pleads. As if her own words will make Alma come down from heaven itself. She feels a hand on her shoulder, it doesn’t matter whose it is, she’s shrugging it off.
🌸 -- The hand comes back, wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her off. She starts kicking, screaming, before she hears the voice whispering her name; Luisa. Not just her, but Isabela, too. Finally, she looks around the room. The panicked face of her mother comes into view. The sounds of the rest of the family in the room, watching. She doesn’t spot her children; Camilo’s probably kept them away from this. Mirabel finally processes it all.
🌸 -- And she sobs. A sob that feels like it breaks her chest. A sob that breaks the hearts that hear it. Luisa and Isabela are her anchors, holding her close.
🌸 -- On that night, a flame went out in Casa Madrigal.
#anyway hows everyones night#εϊз ( IC ) && ɪ’ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴛᴇᴀᴅғᴀsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴛᴇᴀᴅʏ!#εϊз ( v. 08 ) && ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴍʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪs ᴜᴘ / ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴏᴜʀ sᴛᴏʀʏ#εϊз ( DRABBLES ) && ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍɪʀᴀʙᴇʟ?#death /#ask to tag /#seriously how is everyone tonight :)?
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It’s my birthday. This was in my drafts. So here it is. No one requested this. Just me. Based on the song, “Lighting in a Bottle” by The Summer Set. Modern Zoyalai au
We're catching lightning in a bottle
Don't give a fuck about tomorrow
The rumble of skies made the sky feel like a living beast. The growl of the gray clouds that hung over them rattled the air, shaking Nikolai’s truck bed pleasantly. Not two seconds later a snap of light split illuminated capturing the silver skies perfectly before melting back to dreary night.
Five seconds later the same rattling thunder was back.
Nikolai tipped his head back in an almost prayer for the sky to break and for the gentle coolness of rain to fall onto his skin.
Everything was too much lately. The heat. His parents. His brother.
He felt like he was being choked by a humid heat. The warm air filling his lungs and baking him from the inside out. If it wasn’t his parents not-so-subtely still trying to get him to go to their alma mater where he’d have a cozy, new, private dorm room waiting for him and a degree that was basically paid for; it was his brother using every last moment to remind him of just how stupid it was to join the Navy instead of doing something more useful with his life (apparently, to Vasily, that meant getting a Business degree and spend his days drinking).
Nikolai needed to get away. An escape away from the stupid heat. So when he woke up this morning with the sky cast in gray shadow, he couldn’t have been happier.
A hand landed in his, and a smile curled over his mouth as he turned to Zoya who wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze fixed on the crackling horizon.
He rescinded his earlier statement. He could be happier. And that was all thanks to the girl that had finally said yes to him after years of having to hide his feelings under the familiar rhythm of their snarks.
“It’s gonna start raining soon.” She said as she took a deep breath. She could probably taste the rain in the air just as he could.
Nikolai let go of her hand briefly to throw his arm across her shoulders and draw her closer to him. Her head dropped automatically to his shoulder and he couldn’t help the smattering of butterflies that flapped in his stomach.
Some days he still couldn’t believe that Zoya Nazyalensky had decided to go out with him. Fair enough, he didn’t usually have trouble getting anyone to go on a date with him. But it had always been different with Zoya. She was the girl that had transferred into his Russian Lit class with a sardonic kind of voice that always left you guessing if she was mocking you or actually offering advice. She was an enigma that refused to let him take the easy way out of anything. She was one of the few people he would have called a friend. And despite sharp sense of loss that came with being apart from her for months at a time, he knew the last thing she wanted him to do was throw away his life for her--he only knew that because the last time he brought up not going to bootcamp she scoffed in his face and told him, “to stop being a lovesick fool.”
It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, brilliant Zoya was starting her new job at the capital of the country, and hopefully change the world like she always wanted. It was going to be a season of long distance, and Nikolai tried his best to shove those thoughts aside.
“Are you brooding again?” Zoya murmured, her hands firm against his.
“Only for you, Nazyalensky. I hear I look my best while brooding.” He laughed into her hair.
“Shut up.”
The wind was picking up now, the air around them getting heavy with drizzle. They should be take some cover, or at least move to the safety of his truck. Lightning cracked again and Nikolai smiled at the coming rain.
“It’ll be a hell of a storm.” Nikolai yelled over the thunder.
“What other kind is there?” He could hear the smile in her voice. He felt her hand on his cheek and Nikolai turned to face her. Her eyes were dark. Another lightning strike and for a brief moment he saw a flash of a future in her eyes. “We’ll be okay, you know? We’ve been through worse. For now, it’s just you and me.”
He raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed the rain off of the back of her hand.
“You and me.”
#zoyalai#zoya nazyalensky#nikolai lantsov#nikolai x zoya#king of scars#kos#zoyalai modern au#idk what this even is#its not that good#but it was a cute idea#just two kids purposefully getting caught in a storm#that was it
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beth has a panic attack
TW: Panic attacks, drug usage, car crash, injury, smoking, alcohol, ptsd (i think this would be ptsd, i'm not sure though, so tell me if I'm wrong so I can correct it!)
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When Beth woke up, the first thing she noticed was that it was far too hot in their room, it was too hot to breathe comfortably, it was too hot for the comforter. Too hot, too hot, too hot.
It had been a long time coming. All day she'd been jumpy, at everything and nothing at all. Benny noticed and asked, as he was bound to do sooner or later, but it was dismissed with some excuse or other. She couldn't remember now.
She breathed in short, gasping breaths that tore through her body.
It sounded like that day in the car- her mother in the mirror red-eyed and sorry, and the same breathing again on impact as the full weight of the car slammed into her shell of a body, ending it all, leaving Beth.
"Fuck," she rasped into the room. The fan wasn't on, why wasn't the fan on, Benny always turned the fan on before they went to bed, it was all wrong. "Fuck me."
It felt like that day in the orphanage. The hard, smooth-bodied green pills slipping through her throat, then the feeling as they plummeted down, down, down into her stomach. They'd called her name when she fell. The glass laid in wicked, jagged shards.
Somebody said her name now. It was dark.
It looked like that day at Alma's house. The alcohol hung heavy on her breath and the smoke curled into the air like skeleton fingers. The chess pieces, knocked from the board. The little circular top of the queen snapped off. There'd been a resounding crack and a knife of pain when she struck the table, and then everything was dark just as it was now.
Something gripped her hand. She felt herself flinch away. Everything sounded watery all of a sudden, as if from a great distance and fuzzy.
"No," she gasped, "no, no, no." Drawing her knees up to her chest, clutching at her wrist for the pretty little watch Alma had gifted her. Cracked glass, pounding head, competition tomorrow at the high school.
Something freezing was laid over her neck, a sharp contrast to the buzzing heat around her. It skewered her thoughts, brought her back. Or partially back, as it were.
"...okay? I'm right here. We're in the apartment, the damned messy apartment that I need to clean. What's it been, years since I got the place and it's still in the same state. My ass wasn't here half the time anyways. I was off staying with friends, winning tournaments. Until you, of course. Beth?"
She raised her head just a little from the enclosed cage of her arms. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust, before finally making out Benny sitting across from her, looking up to meet her gaze. Her breaths still came quickly, though not so much as before.
"I'm here, okay? What do you need?"
"I- " she gulped down more air. "Keep talking, please."
And he did. He talked of chess and money and tournaments and more chess. She couldn't process half of the words that came out of his mouth through the frenzied haze that had come to rest in her head, but the noise was nice. His words kept up a low, steady rhythm. It reminded her that she wasn't alone, not anymore.
It was long that they sat there together in the dark. How long was irrelevant, but it was long enough. Their silhouettes shifted in the dim lighting from outside- a steady force and a shaking one. Eventually she calmed down enough to reach out for Benny's hand (which he accepted, of course,) and not much longer after that her breathing was back to normal.
"-65, with the footnotes. You should start reading footnotes. I still don't understand how you beat fucking Vasily Borgov without reading any footnotes. Or doing puzzles. I mean-"
"Benny."
He looked at her.
"I think I'm okay now."
"You think or you know?"
"I know."
"Okay."
It was quiet for a while. Then Beth's voice emerged again.
"Will you play a game of chess with me?"
"Always."
#beth x benny#the queen's gambit#beth harmon#benny watts#tqg#panic attack#ptsd#fanfiction#my fanfiction#the queen's gambit netflix#anya taylor joy#thomas sangster
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[SPOILERS FOR THE DESOLATIONS OF DEVIL'S ACRE!! This is an alternate ending of TDoDA. Also trigger warning: suicide]
Hii, if someone remembers me talking about this alternate ending that I already had in mind before even reading TDoDA, this is what I was talking about. Editing all this here on tumblr was a pain oof. This one-shot is hella long, I think I’ve never written this much before. Also my writing is probably not WOW SUPER AMAZING, but I write cause I want to, so like 👌 (besides, I have immensely improved, you don’t wanna know what my writing looked like back in 2018-19) anyway enjoy
He felt like the air was being pulled out of his lungs. No. Like he was getting torn away from himself. Bits of his soul flying into the hands of a girl, her skin glowing brightly from the rest of him. She was struggling to hold it all in, though. Just give it back to me, he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the strength.
He felt himself shrink. It should've hurt, but it didn't. He was too weak to feel pain. Caul caught a glimpse of two familiar green eyes, fearfully staring at him from a distance. Alma. He raised one of his awful hands, wanting to grab her. But he froze as he watched each of his long fingers break off, like wood splits in a fire. He looked back at his sister, panic creeping into him. What is happening to me? His sister wasn't looking at him anymore, though. She grabbed the girl's shoulder, shouted something and nodded and the girl ran off, toward the exit. Everyone else followed and left Caul behind. He felt so tired and empty, he didn't even try coming after them. Emptiness was all there was, just like before. Something was pulling on his legs, dragging him deeper into the pool behind him. Legs. He had legs again. This isn't right.
"Jack." a familiar voice said, not too far away from him. With great effort, he turned to spot the owner of the voice. It was his brother, Myron, embraced by a blue outline, which was slowly fading. But it was all wrong. He was young, a boy, around fifteen years old, wearing a torn suit and hat that were way too big for him. "Mum and dad called for us, Jack!" he said again. "We have to go!" Caul was so tired. He just wanted to give in to the water pulling him into its depths behind him. The ocean behind him. What? The ground underneath him loosened, turning to sand. Wind ruffled his hair. Seagulls seemed to laugh down at his demise. They were at a beach. He gave his brother a confused and helpless look. Myron shielded his eyes with one hand and watched the waves in the distance. "They're pretty far out already!" he shouted over the sound of the wind. "We should really go. They're waiting for us."
"I don't want to." Caul managed to say, but then gasped at the sound of his own voice in surprise. He, too, sounded fairly young. "But we have to follow them, Jack. We have no other choice." Myron said and now he was looking back down at his little brother with a sad expression. And then, right in front Caul's eyes, Myron seemed to rapidly grow older and taller. His expression was saddening more, his face mirroring a horrible and long forgotten past. Then he repeated his words, his voice deeper, bitter and less innocent. "We have no other choice." The seagulls overhead disappeared to make way for a brewing storm and it began to drizzle. Both of the brothers were startled by the sound of thunder, but strangely, the rumbling never stopped. It kept going, until the ground beneath them joined in and shook from the noise, making the sand dance. Caul struggled to keep himself on the shore even more, as the waves grasped him. Myron pointed his face toward the sky. He took off his hat in awe, revealing two antennae sprouting from beneath his hair and brought his hat down to his chest, almost hugging it. He hummed and said, "I don't think this is supposed to happen." A lightning lit up the dark and stormy horizon. "No, we certainly can't go in the water now." Myron said, shaking his head, then turned and looked at something on the dune. He spread his arms as if a dog was running toward him. "PT, come over here! That's a good boy!" In the distance, a bear grunted. That was the last thing Caul heard and the last thing he saw seemed to be the dark clouds falling from the sky, crashing down on them. And then there was nothing. Only the deafening sound of silence. No one else was there. Not even his brother. Only he was. Alone behind his eyes. He had passed out.
[—]
They all woke up to the sound of thunder. Gasping and wide-eyed, they searched the place around them for their friends. "Noor!" Jacob shouted and then a hand grabbed his. "I'm here." Noor said, right next to him. They looked each other up and down, asking if they were okay, coming to the conclusion that, yes, they were alright and that they weren't dead. Jacob carefully and slowly stood up. "We're back." he said. It was Abe's house, its porch and yard, to be exact. "But how?" Noor asked, standing up, too. The bushes surrounding the yard rustled and they both held their breath, in fear of whatever was over there could hear it. But then they heard their friends' voices and then saw each of their heads pop out of the bushes. They came running over to them, shaking leaves off their arms and legs on the way. "I hit the button on the Expulsatator right when Caul appeared!" it was Emma, holding up a little black thing. "We made it!" But then Hugh came running, Fiona hurrying over alongside him, their hands linked. "He's still here. And alive." he said, in between heavy breaths. "Fiona just saw him." Hugh pointed in the direction they came from. "Come over to me, children!" Miss Peregrine called out, her voice wavering. Together, they all backed away to the porch and anxiously watched the woods ahead of them.
They expected something monstrous—a giant ten-fingered hand reaching out from between the trees, greedily feeling the ground for Miss Peregrine and her wards, or a large terrifying face filled with hatred beyond imagination. Instead, a tiny figure rose from behind a bush, then swayed, unsteady on their feet, and fell. It was Caul, exhausted and apparently not used to having real legs again, laying splayed on the ground, only his upper body pointing out of the bush. He groaned as he kept trying to push himself back up, but failing over and over again. "You've got to be kidding me!" Emma said. Miss Peregrine slowly approached him, but soon stopped, in order to still keep a distance. She narrowed her eyes, examining him. He was his old self again. Everything was the same, except for a few tree branches that led off his shoulders and two very prominent ones sprouting from his head, though you could almost call them horns. Red, lightning-shaped scars spread across his body.
Caul was muttering, while glaring at something behind the bushes. Then a voice. "Oh, finally!" it said, happily. "It's over, I'm free!" An older man stepped out from behind a bush, looking a bit worse for wear—his suit was torn and a huge piece of his hat was just dangling from it. His face was shining with relief, though. It was Myron. "I'm finally myself again!" he said and laughed, as if not quite believing his own words. Myron looked himself up and down, touching his face. "Just me and only me!"
"Shut up." Caul said through gritted teeth. "You should be grateful that I was keeping you alive the entire time."
"Grateful?" Myron said, shaking his head, bitterly. "No, never. You put me through hell." In the past days, Myron had been attached to his brother in some parasitical way and had seen all the horrible things his brother did, had shared a mind and body with him.
"You should thank me for lending you all my knowledge. Admit it, without me you would have never made it this far." Myron said, then finally noticed the group of peculiars standing further away from them. At the sight of Miss Peregrine, his eyes widened and the antennae on his head shot up, pushing his hat off. He caught it in time and then smiled, awkwardly. "Alma!" he called out and waved his hand, but put it down again when he saw his sister's confused expression. Myron cleared his throat, apologised and put his hat back on to hide his antennae. Jacob stepped out of the crowd. "What you told me was true." he said to Myron. "You helped us...again. Thank you."
"My pleasure." Myron said with a nod. "I decided that it was the least I could do. But I thank you for finally setting an end to...this." Myron nodded at his brother, who stared at his hands like he'd never seen any before. Caul's eyes got big, as panic crept into him and he realised what had happened to him. "Where'd they go?" he said, his voice trembling with growing rage. "Where did my powers go? Where is my SOUL?!" As Myron tried to answer his questions as good as possible, Caul asked more and more of them. "Where am I?! Why am I not in my library?! I want to go back! BRING ME BACK TO MY LIBRARY!" he screamed, in a fit of anger. He hit the grass with his fists over and over again. "Does anyone happen to have a bit of sleep dust?" Myron shouted over Caul's voice. Murmur broke out amongst the peculiars, searching for Mother Dust's powder. Meanwhile, Caul seemed to be trying to find something, hastily looking around the place. Then his eyes locked on Noor and he got furious, as he remembered the way she was draining his light. "YOU!" he screamed and everyone, including Noor, flinched. "YOU TOOK IT! YOU'VE STOLEN WHAT'S MINE!" And then he tried to crawl over to her, but he still didn't have enough strength to pull himself forward. He wasn't used to being weak again. "I've got some!" Emma shouted. "Here, take this!" She came running toward Caul, held her breath and closed her eyes, and lastly threw the sleep dust right into his face. As a reflex, he shut his eyes and tried to get the dust off with his hands, but breathed it all in in the process. Soon, the dust was starting to work its magic and suddenly Caul's arms got too heavy for him and he gave up on removing the stuff. By then he had stopped screaming and flailing. "Goodnight, asshole." Emma spat. He said, "What...did you..." and then his head dropped down and he was suddenly deep asleep.
Myron stood over him, looking down. "We need to cover him with something, since he...well, he doesn't have clothes at the moment." he said to Emma, who was the nearest to him. She grimaced, disgusted, then turned to Jacob and shouted, "Can you get a blanket from inside?" Jacob nodded, took a step toward the house, but then stopped. "Mr. Bentham?" he said and Myron looked at him. "I think you should come and see where he lived." Myron hesitated for a few seconds, staring nervously. He knew who Jacob meant by he. "Why, of course." he said, eventually. He came over, walking past Miss Peregrine, who locked eyes with him for a moment, her face seeming to say pay your respects.
They entered the house, through the torn screen door. Myron stared at it, a bit shocked. "Was this when...?"
"Yeah," Jacob said. "When the hollow came." Myron suddenly felt uneasy and guilty, as if he had been the hollowgast himself and killed Abe. He hadn't, of course. But he had taken a part of Abraham's soul. If not, his peculiarity wouldn't have ended up diluted and might have saved his life. They stopped in the middle of the living room. "So this is my grandfather's house." Jacob said. He went over to the sofa, picking up a fuzzy blanket. "It's so...simple." Myron said, taking everything in. "I think he liked it that way." Jacob replied.
"He did." While Myron was still fascinated by the four walls around him and its furniture, Noor came up to Jacob. "Is he the wizard guy?" Noor whispered, leaning in to him. "What?" Jacob frowned. "I mean the architect." she corrected herself. "Bentham, right? The one who wrote the list with the ingredients?"
"Oh, yeah, this is him." Jacob said. "He was calling out to you in the library, remember? That was his voice. You just couldn't see him, yet." Noor made an oooh sound, nodding. "Are those antennae his peculiar trait?" she whispered again, as they watched Myron take his hat off in front of a framed picture of Abe. Jacob shook his head no. "I don't think so." Myron had returned from the library of souls, had been exposed to its power, which was the best explanation to his appearance there was.
Jacob showed the blanket to Myron. "Will this be enough?" Myron nodded. "That will be enough. There's not much of my brother to cover, anyway." he winked and smiled, chuckling at his own joke. "Well, let's get this over with." They met with the rest outside. Caul was still laying in the grass, sleeping on his stomach. No one had dared to go near him—for good reason. They had seen him play dead a few times before and didn't want to be tricked again. Only this time, he wasn't playing. Jacob dropped the blanket over Caul and together with Myron's help wrapped it around his body, as if tucking him in. He looked uncannily peaceful, but they knew that he was a monster, that had tried to kill them minutes ago. That was the thing about monsters—they're harmless when they're asleep and don't you dare wake them.
"Some of you will stay here and keep watch over the situation," Miss Peregrine announced. "and the rest will come with me to Devil's Acre to get the home guards, so they can carry my brother to a secure place where the world is safe from him." She went around and listed the ones staying at Abe's house—Bronwyn, Emma, Jacob and Noor, in case there were still powers left inside Caul. "And you, brother." Miss Peregrine glanced at Myron. Before she would leave with some of her wards, Myron had one last question. "Will my sentence be lightened?" he asked, carefully, like a child asking if they could stay up a bit longer. "That's not completely up to me." Miss Peregrine replied, without looking at him. "But if it was, would you lighten it?" he asked again. She gave no answer to that. She was already leaving.
[—]
There he was now. Asleep on the backseats of a car, the movements cradling him, familiar voices talking quietly around him as they drove. Later he was limp in the arms of one of the home guards, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, almost like a newborn. Angry, horrified and disgusted stares of people pierced through him, as he was carried down a street like a trophy. Shouts echoed from both sides, but he could barely hear any of them. Their hatred and anger toward him was justified, but their efforts were for nothing.
Everything got a bit more quiet, then. They went through a long hallway, passing rooms filled with the noise of people using typewriters. The home guard stopped, alarmed, as Caul shifted slightly in his arms, taking a deep breath. He was still asleep and only made himself a bit more comfortable. But he wouldn't be sleeping peacefully much longer. Eventually, the guard rid himself of his duty, putting Caul down in the corner of a padded cell, a place safe for him to wake up in, protecting himself and the people around him as well. Then the guard closed and locked the door behind him, the cell falling into silence.
. . .
. . . . .
. . . . . . . .
He was very slowly waking up, opening his eyes, but closing them again and every time he did open them, the room around him was blurry and spinning. He felt so light, he thought that he was floating. Caul had to think of a song and hummed along to it, swaying his head and smiling, dazed. The song started to distort into a voice, though, many voices and sounds. Someone called his name, seagulls were laughing, waves crashing and thunder bringing down the clouds. Everything was so loud. He tensed up, turning his head from side to side, as if trying to get rid of a nightmare. Keys clattered from outside the door, footsteps on linoleum floor. Caul forced his eyes wide open, gasping. He still couldn't quite see, but it was getting better. His head dropped down and he got a look at his arms. What happened to my arms? They seemed to be merged together, fused into one. He tried to pull them apart, but nothing happened. He panicked as he kept on struggling to get them free. Caul tried to scream, but there seemed to be no voice coming out. What did they do to me? he thought, as memories started to come back. Then his vision sharpened and he realised that his arms weren't actually merged together, not really, that is. Someone had put him in a straight jacket. He grunted, slammed his head against a wall of pillows in frustration. Smooth. There were pillows everywhere. On the floor, on the walls and on the ceiling. And then he realised what this place was. A wave of anger coursed through him, but before it could burst out of him, he pushed it back down. It would only be a waste of energy, so he decided to keep it for later. Caul just sighed instead.
A little window in the door slid open and a pair of eyes appeared in its frame. Caul narrowed his eyes at them, trying to recognise the person, but that turned out to be nearly impossible. "You'll remain in here for a few more hours, until we can be certain you're not posing a threat to us anymore." the guard said. "Where...are...they?" Caul mumbled, finally able to speak again, if only barely. "The ymbrynes asked us to give you the information you need, so that's what I'm here for now—you're in Devil's Acre's jail, you inhaled a large dose of sleep dust, which you're currently recovering from and we imagine you already experienced some its effects." the man said, then stopped, checked a little piece of paper and looked at Caul, who was far from okay as reality continued to crash in on him. "Anyway—" the man began, but then Caul started screaming the names of his siblings. He got on his knees, trying to stand up without his arms, but he just fell onto his side. "If you keep on screaming, we might have to keep you in there for a bit longer." the guard said and at that Caul froze, looking up at the door. "I'm calm now." he said, quickly. Of course, that was a lie. "Far from it." the guard replied. "I'M CALM NOW!" Caul screamed again. "LET ME OUT!"
"You'll only be put into another cell. So, what's the difference, hm?" the guard shut the little window in the door and then Caul heard him walk away.
This is ridiculous, Caul thought. He used to rule over this place. He was the one putting people behind bars. Now, they put him behind bars, trapped him in his own home. Forever.
He managed to push himself back up and then he sat there, thinking. He thought about his brother and hoped he, too, ended up in jail. It's only fair. And he thought about his sister, how he wished his hands would turn back into those deadly claws again and how he could grab her and watch the life go out of her. But he couldn't. He was back at the beginning now. And also at his end.
[—]
In the next few hours, they had to switch the guards several times after they complained about Caul talking too much. Which was true. He told them jokes that weren't funny, sang at the top of his lungs, screamed and pretended to cry, other times cackling for no apparent reason. The sleep dust had stopped working, unfortunately and Caul was testing the guards' mental limits, until they would give in and let him out. "Why not come in and join me?" he said once, slapping the pillows beneath him. Sometimes he'd wink at them, if they were looking inside. "It's so cozy." He was free from the straight jacket now, but hadn't moved cells yet. "I liked him more in that sedated state." one guard would say to the other, both shaking their heads in agreement. Thankfully, there was light at the end of the tunnel and Caul was finally getting a new home; another cell, but with less smooth pillows, a bed and cold, grey concrete walls. He hadn't seen his new cell, yet, though. But he was going to and he was going to hate it.
"You think they'll execute him at some point?" a guard asked another one, who was fumbling with his keys in front of Caul's cell. "I don't know. I thought the ymbrynes got rid of death sentences." said the other. "Either way, they told us to move him to a new cell." Then from inside the cell, Caul's voice blared, causing the guard to drop his keys. "Oh, please! End this nightmare that I call my life!" he wailed and then laughed. "Just kidding, though I'd gladly challenge death again." The guard picked up his keys and sighed in frustration. "You know the drill—you stay in the back of the room, while we enter. We have guns, you don't." he said, while unlocking the door. "Understood?"
"Yessir." Caul replied, snickering. They went in, one of them immediately aiming a gun at Caul, who stood opposite from them, on the other side of the cell. Caul raised an eyebrow. "Still afraid?" he nodded at the gun, grinning. "Just being careful." the man holding it replied. "Ah. Is that so?" Caul said. He made a twirling motion with his hand, then snapped his fingers. The guards stepped back, anxiously looking around, waiting for something to happen. Caul clicked his tongue, disappointed. "Hm, no, nothing. Not even a tiny spark." he was referring to his lost powers and pointed up at his branch-like horns. "That's all that's left, then." He stretched out his arms toward the guards, as if offering them to them. "Take me away, boys." The two men looked at each other, sighed and then the one, who was not holding the gun, handcuffed Caul. "Oh, please be gentle. I'm sensitive." he fake-whined, as the metal rings closed around his wrists. "You weren't gentle with us either." the guard reminded him. Caul thought for a moment, a bit caught off guard by that. "Well—" he began to say, but then the man slapped his shoulder, lightly. "And after all, we're just doing our job." he interrupted him. "Let's get you out of here."
They shoved him toward the door, urging him to walk faster by poking his back with the barrel of the gun. The guards led him through the long hallway, all the while Caul was complaining about the way he was treated. Every now and then he would also peek inside other cells, only to be stopped by the sound of the gun being cocked behind him—a warning. Downstairs, another long hallway awaited them. They had to go all the way through it, the prisoners inside recognising Caul, shouting and trying to reach out to him through the prison bars. Most of them were ambrosia addicts and were begging him for that stuff, thinking that that's the reason he was there. His face was the main symbol of that drug business and to see him was like seeing the light at the end of a tunnel, the sun rising, a god descending to bestow gifts upon them. "Oh, please share some with us, sir! Even if it's just a drop!" one of them pleaded, kneading his hands together like a prayer. But they were already past him. "Not today!" Caul shouted after him, looking back. "Maybe another time!" There wouldn't be another time, though. "Face forward." the guard with the gun growled.
Arriving at the end of the corridor, they unlocked a new door and shoved Caul inside. He stumbled, then caught himself and gaped at the room in front of him. It was almost sad. The room was parted with a wall of prison bars and the cell was bigger than the first one, but no one had really thought of filling all that space. There was a bed underneath a tiny window high up in the wall on one side and a small table and chair on the other. Everything surrounded by a grey floor and ceiling and walls, all with the same shade of grey. Caul hated it, as expected. "Can I go back to the padded cell?" he said, giving them a sweet, but forced smile. "No." one of the guards smiled back at him. "Now get in." Caul groaned, annoyed, but did as he was told and trudged inside. With a gun pressed against his temple, they opened his handcuffs. He massaged his wrists and grimaced in pain. "Why did they have to be so tight?" he asked, glaring at them. "What if you cut off my blood flow? Did you think about that?"
"Don't be a baby." the guard said. "Are you a doctor or something?"
"Yes. Not a certified one, but I would consider myself a doctor, yes." Caul replied, seeming a little offended. "I'm afraid my patients didn't always survive, though..."
"Patients, yes?" the man spat. "You mean innocent peculiars who fell victim to your wicked experiments?"
"That's your way of saying that." Caul said. The guards laughed, one of them patting Caul on the shoulder and said, "Whatever you say, little man." and they went out of the cell, closing and locking the door behind them.
Before they left completely, Caul's eyes got wide and he remembered something. "Is my brother here, too?" he shouted after them. "Myron Bentham?" The guards looked at each other for a moment and exchanged a few words, whispering, then they shook their heads. "His name is not on our list." they replied, shrugging.
This can't be, Caul thought. He gripped the prison bars. "Will he be here?"
"That's up to the ymbrynes." one guard said. "Check that list again. He has to be here." Caul insisted on it, with pressure in his voice. "Fine, but we're pretty sure they only lengthened his exile here in Devil's Acre. Looks like he's better than you." the guard said and then they left, disappearing down the long hallway. "He gets to live in a fancy house, while I'm rotting in here?!" Caul screamed. "He's just as bad as I am!" Caul continued to screech about his brother having attempted mass murder, which luckily failed, but cursed Caul and his followers with seemingly endless agony and insatiable hunger, walking the earth as monsters with contorted bodies. He continued screaming about how Myron had ruined everything, the sound echoing through that whole section of the building, his hatred seeming to never end, but then a sudden wave of exhaustion hit him and he slowly slid down to the cold concrete floor. His lack of powers was still causing him problems. Through the tiny window, he saw faint light outside, the sun rising. And even though he didn't know for how long he had already done that a few hours ago, he felt like sleeping again.
[—]
Smoke was still rising up from the ground, each street and alley having turned into their own little Smoking Street. Houses had been used as punching bags by the monsters the wights had become, whose dead bodies were now scattered across the Acre, some on the burned ground and some dramatically lying limp on rooftops. Their fighting had been for nothing—they were dead, their leader alive, but behind bars and left with no powers. Miss Peregrine and Myron walked down a street, side by side. Both had the same sour expression aimed at the place around them. "You don't seem fazed." Miss Peregrine pointed out. "No. I've seen all of this happen. Saw it through his eyes." Myron said, suddenly disgusted by the recurring memories of it. Ash softly rained down on their clothes and Myron sometimes took off his hat to shake it all off, only to end up getting ash in his hair, too. This was not some leftover of Caul's desolations, though, but ash from houses and other things that had burned during the battle. Lastly, they stopped in front of Myron's house and he gaped at it, sighing in relief. "Your house is one of the still standing buildings." Miss Peregrine said. "It even kept ninety-nine of us peculiars safe for a little while." Myron slowly approached his house, taking off his hat. "When Jack got so close to it," he said, remembering the scene. "I thought it was lost for good." There was still evidence of the havoc Caul had caused around the house—there, where his personal tornado had spun, was a wide and not too deep trench surrounding a part of the house. But the Quilt stopped Caul from moving on to Myron's house. Other than its surroundings, his house seemed to be in top shape, except for some scratches.
The trench was luckily a bit narrower at the front door and Myron simply hopped over it and held out a hand to his sister and with his help she crossed it, too. Myron opened the door and an oh my God escaped his lips. He held the door open for Miss Peregrine while putting a hand on his forehead, not believing his eyes. "I'm home again, actually home." he said. "I didn't think I'd see this place again."
"I must mention that some things have changed, though." she said to him. Myron turned to look at her, alarmed. "What has changed?" he asked, turning a bit pale. "We decided to bring your Panloopticon to good use, for example." Miss Peregrine replied. "Peculiars here can use it to travel to places in an easier way now. Sort of like a main station. I suppose that is its purpose, yes?"
"Yes...that's good to hear. If only I could have been there when you started using it." Myron said, colour returning to his face. "I almost thought you meant the..."
"Wax figures?" she said, sternly and at that Myron's eyes widened, again. "Yes, we gave them a new home and they're currently being watched over and taken care of." Myron looked pained and didn't reply to any of that. He knew what he had done and there were no excuses to cover anything up with. Soon he would have to confront his crimes, but so would his brother, who was the most guilty. From the depths of the hallway, a little man came running, one side of his hair messed up. "Mr. Bentham!" he called out, flapping his hands in excitement. "Nim!" Myron said and laughed, as Nim embraced him in a hug, making him stumble a little. "It's so good to see you again, sir!" he said, barely being able to contain his joy. "I missed you, too, Nim," Myron replied, then patted Nim's back. "but I need to talk to my sister in private now." They let go of each other and Nim vanished back into the direction he came from. They also met Sharon on their way to the library, but he only greeted Miss Peregrine and didn't even look at Myron.
"Nim has helped us, too." Miss Peregrine said, as they entered the big library. "He showed us the copy of the list of ingredients that the wights were using to resurrect our brother. Only that by then, we were a bit too late." The two siblings sat down on the sofa, as if preparing for a harsh conversation. "Percival Murnau." Myron guessed. "It was him, wasn't it?" Miss Peregrine nodded at that and a chill went through her brother. "That's no surprise. I never liked him, he never liked me."
"We thought we had won and that he needed my heart." Miss Peregrine explained. "Which wasn't very pleasant information, either, considering he was still out there, but at least we were expecting him to come back for me. So we thought we had control over the situation." Myron shifted uncomfortably, looking around for something—probably for PT—but he soon stopped, remembering his grimbear wasn't around anymore. In stressing moments, he would always seek comfort by patting and hugging PT. "But you didn't have control over the situation." Myron assumed. "No. We certainly didn't." she said. "It wasn't mine, but Velya Greenshank's heart that Murnau needed—and eventually obtained." Myron nodded, knowingly. Then there was a crushing silence between the two. There was so much to say, but all that was a struggle to put into words. For now, they just silently prepared for the rest of their conversation.
"When he brought his wights to Abaton, I knew it didn't look good for me. Jack somehow robbed me of my newly obtained powers, turning me back to my old self." Myron said, gesturing at himself. "I was weak and they were way bigger and so much more powerful than me. After a few close calls, I ran away into the library and hid there. At this point, they were far too busy training outside and seemed to have forgotten about me."
"Mr. Portman told me that the soul jars he used were already placed there, ready for him to take them," Miss Peregrine said. "and I wonder...did you put them there?" Myron nodded. "Yes, that was me. Luckily, there was still a bit of Abraham's soul left in me. My ability to see and handle soul jars was barely there, but just enough to do this one last deed." he explained and then his expression darkened. "It wasn't long until Jack remembered that I was still trespassing his library—as he would say—and he was far from done with me. And he needed me." Myron took a deep breath and then continued. "He didn't admit that, of course, but when he caught me, I must have blacked out and the next thing I knew was that...I was him. I was still me, but also him. We were connected in some sick and cruel way, merged, forced together to live as one." Miss Peregrine was listening closely now, fingers placed on her lips. "He had complete access to my knowledge on Old Peculiar and other things that turned out to be useful to him, while I had to endure the chaos that was his mind and watch him do all the horrible things he did." Myron said and shuddered, remembering everything. He shook his head, trying to shake off those horrible thoughts. "I wish I could have been there, by your side. Even before all this happened. There is so much I regret—" Miss Peregrine stopped him, not wanting to confront all this again at the moment. "I know, Myron, and we will get to those regrets soon," she said. "but I want you to know that...despite everything I'm still glad you're back here with us. I don't think I can entirely forgive you, but you're still my brother." Myron nodded, understandingly, smiled subtly—while his sister wasn't—and then he awkwardly cleared his throat and stood up. "Well, I better go and see Nim. He's been waiting for me for months now after all." he said, then went over to the door and before he left, he waved at his sister. She waved back and thought to her herself, it hasn't been like this in over a century.
[—]
"We checked again and he's not on the list." a guard said, already tired of the following argument. "WHAT!" Caul barked, jumping up from his bed. "You're lying!" He stomped over to the wall of prison bars, gripping them, as if wanting to break them. "Show me! I want to see it!" he demanded. The guard drew in a deep breath, turned the paper with the list on it around and showed it to Caul, at a safe distance, in case Caul tried to snatch it from him. With his eyes narrowed, Caul scanned the paper, working it over for his brother's name. Of course, he found many names but Myron's name. "This list must be a fake!" Caul protested. "In fact, you just wrote it while you were apparently gone to get the real one. Yes, you thought you could trick me and play a joke on me. You think you're so fucking funny, hm?" The guard blinked at him, probably barely following Caul's rant. "But you know what?" Caul said and picked up a chair, then threw it at the opposite wall and yelled, "I'm not someone you play jokes on!" The chair broke apart into several pieces and was now scattered on the floor at Caul's feet. "Wow, that's badly made." he mumbled. Caul picked up one of the chair's legs and pointed it at the mess he made. "This could be you." he warned, his voice low, trying to sound threatening. "Sure." the guard shrugged.
Caul sighed and tossed the chair's leg over to the rest of it. He shuffled back to his bed and let himself fall down on it, defeated. "This isn't fun." he whined. "We'll be handing out meals soon. Maybe you'll find some fun in that." the guard said. Caul's head shot up at the word meals. "Do you have souls?" Caul asked, smiling. "We had plenty of them, you know. I'm sure you kept some after you scavenged my fortress. It's okay, you can admit it."
"No, we just hand out bread and water." Caul cursed silently and his head dropped back down. He heard the guard's footsteps getting quieter, leaving the room and entering the hallway. He felt like shouting something after him, but figured it wouldn't be worth it and that it wouldn't lead to anything. Caul stood up on his bed on tiptoes and watched the street outside through the tiny gap in the wall, which they just barely called a window. The sky was gradually darkening, the sun saying its last goodbyes to Devil's Acre's smoking ruins. I did this, Caul thought to himself and a sudden pride and joy shot through him as he saw his desolated home, but that was soon interrupted by familiar voices of people walking down the street. He squeezed his face into the gap, eyes wide and spotted Jacob, Noor and what appeared to be a floating pair of pants—Millard. They've ruined everything. He got angry again and decided to get their attention. "HEY!" he screamed and they all flinched, staring into his direction. Caul gripped the metal bars in the window. "You think you defeated me, think it's over, don't you?"
"Well, didn't we?" Millard said. "You look very defeated if I'm being honest."
"Oh, this is only temporary! My strife will never end, I will never end! But yooouuu will, children!" Caul sang, but at this point even he wasn't sure about that anymore. Then he addressed Jacob, knowing he'd always been able to scare him. "And especially you, Jacob, know that. Nothing ever really has an end." Jacob backed away, a little caught off guard. Before he could talk back, Noor squeezed his hand. "Come on, guys." Noor said. "That's all just crazy talk." They were about to leave, when Caul screamed at them again. He hit his fist on the wall, cursed when he hurt himself and shook his hand, trying to get rid of the pain. "Damn you!" he cried. Noor rolled her eyes, reached her hand up into the air and stole the light from the street lamps around them. But as she did that, Caul noticed a blue light emitting from underneath his shirt and he gasped. It seemed to float out of him and he began to feel even weaker than he already did. No, no, no. He tried to grasp it, which failed, of course, for he wasn't a light eater. But then it suddenly seeped back into him, right when Noor was finished with what she was doing outside. Caul clutched his chest, as he watched them walk away. "My soul," he breathed. "it's still there. A little bit of it." There was, indeed, still a bit left in him. A part Noor couldn't eat, a part as thin as a string close to snapping, keeping him alive. But it held no powers.
During the next days, Caul got so bored, he started playing imaginary chess with the guards and cheered every time he won. He always won—because he was the only one playing. Other times, he would even flirt with the guards, only to be rejected or ignored. Again, they often had to switch the people guarding him because of that. "Who would date you?" one asked, laughing. "Oh, I know someone who would and who was dating me," Caul replied. "but he's DEAD!" And so Caul would also scream and cry sometimes, still mourning his downfall in one moment, only to break out cackling and going on about how he will escape in the next. He would always claw at the tiny window—which he would never fully reach and never fit through—to get outside. After realising he wasn't able to do that, Caul would break down crying again, then come to accept his fate and play jokes on the guards like he did before. This went on and on, over and over again. A cycle of mental torture for both the guards and Caul himself—if there was anything left of his mind to torture.
Days later, it finally had an end, when they dragged him to court and confronted him at a trial. At first, he didn't appear to be bothered much by everything around him. On the contrary—smirking, he leaned back on his chair and rested his legs on the table in front of him, arms behind his back, handcuffs around his wrists. The ymbrynes told him to stop that, though, so Caul brought his legs back down and rolled his eyes, muttering something about, "I'm not a child anymore." Two guards were by his side, whispering warnings to him. His siblings were there, too; Myron sitting opposite from Caul with his sister next to him, his antennae waving around, nervously. Miss Peregrine had her hands folded together and was glancing over at the other ymbrynes, waiting for the trial to start. In the course of it, Caul proudly confessed to everything they accused him of, even revealing other horrible crimes the ymbrynes did not know about—such as what he did to his brother, Myron. As soon as Caul mentioned that, everyone's eyes locked on Myron and he sank down on his chair, colour leaving his face. Caul gave him a sinister grin and mocked him, but then an ymbryne interrupted Caul. "I'm sure your brother can speak to this without your help, thank you." she said, coldly, and then she addressed Myron, nodding at him. "Mr. Bentham?"
"Yes, er..." Myron sat back upright and cleared his throat. "I do actually...have something to say to this."
"Of cooouurse he does..." Caul said, quietly and rolled his eyes again. Someone shushed him. Myron pushed back his chair and carefully stood up, his hands shaking. His eyes were scanning the table in front of him, anxiously. "As we all know, I am quite guilty as well. Very guilty, actually." he began and slowly raised his head. "Yes, I have worked together with my brother, even after I noticed that something was off about him. Yes, I did try to murder him and his followers back in 1908. Yes, I also lied to Abraham Portman about what I would use his soul for. And yes...I even forced my healer to turn peculiars into living statues with her dust. To that there is no explanation nor justification, I know this."
The court room was quiet, even including Caul. He was playing around with a few leaves that were growing on his horns, barely listening to what was going on around him. Myron continued, glaring at Caul. "But, your honour, if I may...my brother, Jack Bentham." he said, his voice becoming louder and Caul immediately turned his head to look at him. "My own brother tormented me, enslaved me, tortured me. He did not spare Alma, either." Myron gestured at Miss Peregrine. Some ymbrynes nodded, others were writing something down. "There's still something else we wanted to address..." said an ymbryne, looking up from her notes. "And it's your list of ingredients. We know now that you purposely mistranslated mother of storms to fool the wights, which did not work. But out of everything, you chose mother of birds and we would like to know why. You could have put an important ymbryne in danger, maybe even your sister." Myron looked down at Miss Peregrine in regret, then he nodded, remembering. "Yes, that wasn't right." he said. "I was angry and I shouldn't have done that."
"He was angry!" Caul laughed, his voice sudden and loud, startling everyone in the court room. "You know who was angry, too? ME! Is that your excuse, Myron?" Myron ignored his question and just went on. "All I wanted was to put an end to my brother. I knew about the prophecy for a long time and when I realised that Jack was a part of it, was meant to become this king, this monster, I tried everything to prevent—"
"But you failed!" Caul shouted and cackled. "You can't stop prophecies from coming true! Destiny will always find a way! Think, Myron, think!"
"I would love it if you didn't interrupt me." Myron said, calmly, but there was pressure in his voice. Caul rolled his eyes. "Blablablah...would love it if you didn't interrupt me...blablablah." he muttered, mocking his brother. "Jack! This is serious!" Myron yelled, slapping the table. "We're in the midst of a trial!" Caul looked around, grinning. "Really?" he said, sarcastically. "Oh, you're right! We really are!" He laughed. Myron threw his arms in the air in frustration, then put a hand on his forehead. He sighed. "I can't believe this is happening."
Miss Peregrine tugged on his sleeve, asking him to sit back down. He did, eventually and buried his face in his hands. "Already giving up?" Caul was giving his all at mocking his brother. This might be his last opportunity, after all. "Remember what I said about how your will is weak? This is what I meant!" Miss Peregrine was whispering something to Myron, who then shook his head—I can't do this—and she nodded at the other ymbrynes, signalising them to end this. "I think we're done here for today." one of them said. "NO!" Caul screamed at them, then kicked the table. The guards immediately held him back from causing any more damage. "MYRON, LOOK AT ME!" But his siblings were already being led out of the room. Caul wanted to get up, to run after them, but the guards were stronger and kept him down on his chair. He struggled and screamed bloody murder, until a guard cupped a hand over his mouth. But Caul only licked his palm and gasping, the guard quickly pulled his hand away again. Caul laughed at that, but then continued screeching, demanding to be let go. "He needs to sleep again!" an ymbryne shouted. Two men, wearing gas masks came in through the big door, one of them holding a white little bag. They rid the current guards of their duty. One put a hand on top of Caul's head, while his other hand gripped his shoulder, pushing him down. The second man opened his bag and poured white powder onto his hand, which Caul immediately recognised. "NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN!" he screamed, panicking. The one with the powder forcefully planted his hand on Caul's other shoulder and carefully brought the powder closer to his face. When his hand was above Caul, he sprinkled it onto him. Still yelling and struggling, Caul involuntarily breathed it all in, then coughed and sent out a cloud of white dust. Again, Mother Dust's powder was working perfectly and quickly. Caul was able to slur out some last words, but they were almost unintelligible. The guards let him go as his head dropped down and he went limp on his chair.
[—]
He'd been staring at the blank wall, tucked into a blanket on his bed, only his head poking out. Caul had slept through most of the dust's effects and was now just laying there, thinking about nothing. He rolled onto his other side and flinched when he spotted his sister sitting on a chair behind the wall of prison bars. He sighed. "How long have you been here?" he asked, his voice raspy. Miss Peregrine consulted her pocket watch. "For twelve minutes and twenty-four seconds." she replied. Caul propped himself up and groaned as he slowly sat up on his bed. He had never looked so miserable as he did in that moment. "Why are you here?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her, then widened them as he looked at a bright spot on the floor. He followed the beam of light, that was casting it, up to the window behind him. It was daytime, but what time exactly? "What time is it?"
"Three in the afternoon." Miss Peregrine said. "You're going to ruin my sleep schedule if you keep on doing this to me." Caul complained. "You probably won't need a proper sleep schedule, since you will stay behind bars for forever." Miss Peregrine said. "And it's up to you if we have to put you to sleep over and over again. It was for your and everyone else's well-being."
"Forever? In here?" Caul didn't seem particularly surprised, though. "Yes. That was your punishment." his sister replied. "We didn't get to tell you at the trial." Caul shortly laughed, even sounding a bit hopeless and shrugged. "Fun. Speaking of the trial, why wasn't Miss Avocet there?" Miss Peregrine hesitated at first. "She died." she said. "She died the night you surrounded Myron's house. Since one of us had been killed, we had to put an extra amount of energy into the Quilt and that became too much for her."
"Oh." Caul only said and stared at the floor. They didn't say a word for a while, as if holding a moment of silence for Miss Avocet. As much as Caul despised the ymbrynes, Miss Avocet especially, he had never imagined the day she would die for some reason. She had been in peculiardom for such a long time, that she seemed too old to die.
"I brought someone with me today." Miss Peregrine said, breaking the silence. "He's waiting outside." Caul's head went up, a smile filling up his tired face again. "Is it Myron?"
"No, he has had quite enough of you." Miss Peregrine said. Caul's face dropped and he crossed his arms, tapping his foot, annoyed. His sister stood up and went to get the person she brought with her. She came back with a tall young man with jet-black hair, who cautiously and slowly walked in. Caul grinned from ear to ear. "Ah, Jacob Portman, peculiardom's hero! What a delight!" he said and finally found the strength to get out of bed. Jacob approached the prison bars and locked eyes with Caul. "We need to talk." he said, his face serious. Caul hopped over to him. "Of course, of course. Whatever it is, I'm all ears, it can be anything!" Caul said, beaming and he sat down on the cold floor, tailor-fashion. He looked up at Jacob, like a child, eagerly waiting for him to continue. "What do you know about my grandfather?" Jacob asked. Miss Peregrine offered him her chair and he sat down on it, while she stepped away to the door, but still watching them from a distance. "Ah, Abraham." Caul said, sighing. "Still on the search for things you don't know about him?" Jacob nodded. "A wight's hollow you sent took him away from me, killed him, after all." he said. "I didn't get to ask him much."
"Oh, right. I forgot." Caul shrugged and laughed a little. "Maybe you should have done that before he died, then."
Idiot. Anger crept into Jacob. He turned his head to check on Miss Peregrine behind him—she was examining the doorway—and then he leaned forward, getting face to face with Caul's stupid grin. "Did you know when your parents were going to drown themselves?" Jacob whispered.
Caul's grin vanished and his face tensed up, eyes wide. That touched a soft spot. "Don't ever bring this up." Caul hissed back. "Then let's have a proper conversation. Speaking to the male, remember?" Jacob said, giving him a fake smile. Caul shifted uncomfortably and sighed. "Jesus, when did you become so bold?" Caul said, actually seeming a little hurt. "Fine, I'll tell you what I know about Abe. Where do I start? Oh, yes! He was a piece of shit, who had too much pride, which got him killed in the end. I kind of miss him. But thankfully you remind me so much of Abe! It's like he's right here, in front of me, glaring at me. Just like he always did and like you are doing it right now." Jacob got up from his chair. He was giving up on talking to Caul. "This is pointless." Jacob muttered and turned to leave, but then Caul jumped onto his feet and one of his arms shot through the prison bars, grabbing Jacob's wrist. Jacob was pulled backwards and stumbled, hitting his back and head on the cold metal. Caul's other arm came for his neck and put him in a chokehold. "Pointless, hm?" Caul hissed into his ear. "Was it pointless for you to come into this world, too?"
"Let go!" Jacob yelled and tried to struggle against Caul's grip. Miss Peregrine rushed over, alarmed, but by then Jacob had already wrenched himself free. Miss Peregrine protectively led him away from her brother, who was watching them with flashing eyes and a devilish grin. "Hey, I wasn't done, yet!" Caul shouted, but Miss Peregrine shook her head at her brother and then they left and Caul was alone again. He tried shouting after them one more time—"You're just like him, Jacob! A copy of Abe, nothing more!"—and hoped the echo would take his voice far enough to reach them, but then he heard a heavy door slam shut further back in the building, telling him that they were really gone.
Later that day, Miss Peregrine came back to see her brother again, without Jacob this time. She went in and caught Caul standing on tiptoes on his bed, looking out the tiny window, grumbling something to himself. What or who he saw outside was Myron walking down the street, arms linked with Nim. He was laughing about something his servant just told him. They were happy and free—and Caul wasn't. His grip around the prison bars tightened. "This traitorous, arrogant..."
"Is there a problem, Jack?" Miss Peregrine asked and at the sound of her voice, Caul spun around, almost falling off the bed. For a moment, he only stared at her, then pointed at the window. "Why does Myron get to live his best life out there, while I'm trapped in here?!" he complained, like a little child. "Oh, he is facing his consequences, don't worry about that." Miss Peregrine assured him. "He's just not as dangerous as you are."
"Not dangerous?" Caul said. He held two fingers above his head and wiggled them. "Have you seen those things on his head? He looks like he came from outer space!" Miss Peregrine raised an eyebrow at Caul's branch-like horns. "What—oh, fine..." he said and groaned, when he noticed what she was looking at. He sat back down on his bed and wrapped the blanket around himself like a cocoon, putting on a grim expression. "Why are you even here, if you could be out there with him?" Caul grumbled. "I am talking to him quite often, actually. He has told me many things about your time together and—" Miss Peregrine began, but was interrupted by her brother shortly after. "Oh, boo-hoo! Poor Myron was enslaved! Poor Myron was tortured! Poor Myron got his legs broken!" Caul wailed, mockingly and rocked back and forth. "I was stuck in the body of a hollowgast for a few years, Alma." Miss Peregrine nodded. "Yes, I know." Caul sighed and rolled his eyes. "Of course you don't care about that."
"I do," Miss Peregrine said. "but unlike you, he tried and is still trying to better himself."
"We both know that even if I showed any signs of becoming a better person I'd still stay in here, so what's the point?" Caul muttered.
"Yes, that's true. Sometimes you can't get out of a situation, but you can make it better. That's what we always did, back when your forces were lurking behind every corner." Miss Peregrine replied. "Think about it." And with these wise last words, she left the room. Little did they know, that this was the last time they talked to each other. Caul stared down at the concrete floor, where a few shrivelled leaves lay scattered. Forever, they had said, he would stay behind bars forever. Why don't they just kill me? Another, last leaf fell from one of his horns, joining their dead friends. He was just like them. The life had gone out of him, his horns had gone naked. I am become death. His own death.
Over the course of that week, Miss Peregrine hadn't visited him again and Caul's condition worsened. He barely said a word to the guards anymore and usually just sat on his bed, boredly scraping his horns up and down on the wall. Which was good for the guards, since it made their work much easier. However, when Caul started to refuse the bread and water they were giving him, they reported his behaviour to the ymbrynes, who told the guards not to force it onto him if he didn't want it. With each day, Caul became paler than he already was and looked more and more tired. He didn't even look out the window and complain about people walking down the street anymore. Sometimes Caul would trudge over to a corner and stare up at a spider on the ceiling and after that, he'd crawl back into his bed—and that would be one whole day for him.
Eventually, he stopped getting out of bed entirely. Funnily enough, the guards actually spoke to him voluntarily now, but he never really answered. Maybe he would nod or hum in response sometimes, but that was it. Rumours were spreading quickly among the guards—you think he's going to die soon? I mean, look at him. Looks like a corpse—and they were right. Caul was slowly and quietly dying. And it wasn't long until he would finally meet his end.
At the end of that week, Miss Peregrine came back to see him, knowing that apparently he was refusing to drink and eat, but not knowing how bad it already was.
She slowly walked in, trying to be quiet, since Caul appeared to still be sleeping, though it was the middle of the day. A ruined sleeping schedule, she thought. Like he said. Miss Peregrine approached his cell and decided to wake him up. "Jack." she called out. No reaction. Then again, a bit louder, "Jack." Still nothing. She narrowed her eyes at the blanket wrapped around him. Is he breathing? No, it wasn't moving up and down. "Jack?" she called out again, nervously, her voice rising. And then she was yelling. "Jack! JACK!" He was sleeping, yes, but in a different way. In an eternal kind of way, getting pulled deeper into a state he could never return from. He had finally given in to the death that he was always able to evade for so long. A blue little string of light swirled out from his nose, floating up and out the window, into the open street—a soul leaving its host. Miss Peregrine cupped her hands in front of her mouth in shock, her eyes wide as she stared at him. She rushed out to get the guards.
#tdoda spoilers#the desolations of devils acre spoilers#the desolations of devils acre#caul bentham#myron bentham#alma lefay peregrine#jacob portman#noor pradesh#mphfpc
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