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whack-ed · 4 years

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Never (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Synopsis: Y/N and Draco had a fight, and after so much time together, do they split up? Could it end like this? It is not in the personality of either to give up that easly.

Warnings: angsty; bad language; flyffy ending.

Reader: Female

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: That was an anonymous request, so that’s it, I hope you like it!

Taglist: @nebulablakemurphy @jamilelucato let me know if you want me to add you in my taglist ;)

Everyone at Hogwarts knew who Draco and Y/N were. Perhaps the most powerful couple in that school. The two commanded and disbanded in Slytherin. There was no student who was not even a little uncomfortable around them. But most preferred the two together rather than apart. Y/N could be very proud when something - or someone - inflicted her ego. Draco then, could be worse, he was never wrong. So knowing how the two would become more unbearable if they ever broke up, they preferred to put up with the green-colored monarchy they imposed on their house.

But unfortunately, for the bad luck of many, the worst happened. After being together since their fourth year, Y/N and Draco had broken up. Or is that what everyone thought. It was close to Christmas when it happened, thankfully, but It still had another month of real hell at Hogwarts. The ending was not even for such a relevant reason, but it seems that none of the two would take of your high heels to understand the other side.

“Look how ridiculous, I would be ashamed of being a hufflepuff and still be forced to wear a hair like that” Draco said as he passed a first year in the yellow uniform. Y/N who was on his side, looked at him madly. She never understood why Draco was so mean to others.

“Why do you do that, huh, Draco? The boy was doing nothing! You don’t have to be an asshole with everyone.” Y/N said with small signs of anger in hers speech. Draco stopped walking and looked at his girlfriend indignantly.

“Are you defending a hufflepuff, Y/N? What a pathetic thing.” He didn’t laugh like he did at the end of one of his sarcastic comments, since after all, this time he was talking very seriously.

“Hello? Pathetic?! Draco the boy was at most 12 years old! The school can already be difficult enough without a git filling the patience all the time!” People around there already beginning to look at the couple’s fight. Some frightened others curious, but no one threatened to get too close to angry Slytherins.

"Impressive. I didn’t know you liked people like that.” Draco made the best reproach face he could and looked Y/N in disgust. The girl’s blood boiled. Who does he think he was to be able to talk to her like that?!

“I thought you could have matured a little since your second year! But it looks like I was wrong. I always thought the way you implied with Potter was ridiculous, but I thought you could change, right, 16 years old Draco, you don’t need that anymore, right?” And Y/N didn’t contain a word, said everything she was trying to say for days, weeks, maybe months for her boyfriend, but she never found the right moment. And maybe, that one wasn’t either.

"Oh yes? If I’m mature enough why we’re still together then?! ” Draco screamed loudly, unintentionally, but everyone within a radius of at least 3km could hear. Some Slytherin students who passed close to them both had their fingers crossed to prevent what was going to happen. Y/N then raised her eyebrows, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She simply adjusted her uniform, and looked deep into the boy’s eyes, turned around and went on her way, saying nothing.

That had been a week ago, and since then, Draco had taken a vow of silence against Y/N. It was as if the girl just didn’t exist. At first it was kind of mutual, she also didn’t want to chat with him. But, apparently, she was the only one who had felt the slightest bit of regret about what they had done. After two weeks and still nothing, Draco continued to completely ignore the existence of Y/N. The girl, on the other hand, was never going to show that she missed him, although, as the days went by, she didn’t need to say with words what she was feeling, it was clear.

In a divination class, your partner was Blaise, the two of you were sitting at a table above Draco and Pansy. He always knew that you were a little jealous of the girl, since you two were never very good friends, and she always made it very clear that her fancies draco Draco. They were both whispering things and giggling right in front of Y/N. Her furious eyes at the two kept her from paying attention to what were the names of Jupiter’s moons.

"Why don’t you go talk to him already, Y/N?” Blaise said to the girl beside him, it was as clear as daylight that she was jealous.

“Me? Why would I talk to him? I don’t understand your points, you know” She said finally taking her eyes off Draco, since she had been discovered.

“You two are really unbearable, him acting like you don’t exist and you acting like you don’t care. Really pathetic. ” He leaned back and turned his attention to the Professor in front of him.

Y/N chose to ignore Blaise, he didn’t make sense in the girl’s opinion, he was just someone else who had a wrong opinion about her … Right?

***

The following days were nothing different, cute Draco with Pansy and Y/N hating any man. People were starting to get used to the idea that the most powerful couple at Hogwarts was no longer together, it seemed, and were relieved not to be as bad as they thought it could be. Some would dare say it was even better that way. The two without speaking for so long, even if therw was no official ending, it was easier to put up with. At the end of a long day, with two times of history of magic, Y/N has just returned to the common room.

She was beginning to think that after almost a month without speaking, Draco already considered her his ex-girlfriend. These thoughts haunted her for many hours, and she hated them deeply. He could be an asshole at times, but if there were people Y/N was sure to have a good heart, even if deep down, it was Draco. She really liked him.

As soon as the girl entered the common room, she caught a glimpse of Draco and Blaise talking near a pillar, and just passed by without wanting Draco to see her with teary eyes as the thoughts she hated so much were back. But even though she was passing fast, she couldn’t help but hear a comment from Draco “I’m telling you, Blaise, every day that I wanted that this git to have never come to Hogwarts, it’s incredible how I can’t stand being around without feeling rage” And the girl didn’t wait another second to run upstairs and drop the tears on her pillow. That was it, Draco wanted to end it all.

The next day was the most difficult of those last days. It seemed that everything around reminded her of Draco, it seemed that everyone around her was happly dating. If Y/N could choose a super power it would certainly be invisibility. At least she would have potions class today, her favorite subject, and yet she doubted she would pay any attention, last night had been filled not with snoring, but with sobs from crying.

She entered the potions room and went straight to the back table, she didn’t want to draw attention today. As Professor Slughorn was speaking, Y/N was more and more sure that the table looked very comfortable for taking a nap.

"Miss Y/L/N” Professor Slughorn called Y/N, the girl was far from waking up, several students were laughing quietly. He called her three more times before giving up and trying something different. “Well, guys, as I said to you, Amortenia is a very strong potion, probably the most dangerous in this room. And to prove it to you, I’m going to use it to wake up Miss Y/L/N. ” So the Porfessor put some of the potion in a bottle and took it open very close to Y/N, the girl in the same time woke up.

“What the …” She got up scared and looked around the room, looking for where this familiar smell came from.

“Can you share with the class what you smell, Miss Y/L/N?” Professor Slughorn asked.

“Hm… a woody smell, with a hint of mint and… chamomile shampoo.” The girl replied and everyone laughed, everyone in the room knew who was the only person at school who could have these three smells at the same time. Draco who was on the other side of the room, stared at Y/N with sad eyes. It seems that finally, after days, he realized who he was ignoring. Whose flowers did he smell when the professor opened the potion next to him. Seeing Y/N the way, holding back the crying, broke his heart into a thousand pieces. What had he done.

As everyone was laughing, and the Professor Slughorn without understanding nothing, let the girl go to the bathroom when she asked. He might not have understood why, but he knew that for some reason the smell that the girl felt made her very sad, since the girl had tears in her eyes.

“Professor, can I go to the bathroom too?” Draco asked the professor a few minutes after Y/N left. That’s when he understood everything. As soon as the boy got close to him, he felt exactly what Y/N had described. Slughorn may be not a student anymore, but as a good slytherin, he heard the gossip here and there. “Ah… Of course, of course, you can.”

Draco ran down the castle corridors after Y/N, she couldn’t have gone that far. He then stopped and thought for a minute, where could she be? And without much delay he got his answer. The boy ran to the bathroom where he was sure he would find Y/N, and he was right.

He heard it outside one of the cabins. “He doesn’t deserve you if he goes to treat you like rubbish!” Myrtle’s voice echoed throughout the bathroom, as no one came, it was normal for this to happen. Draco wasn’t sure why, but Y/N was the only person at Hogwarts who really enjoyed Myrtle’s company.

Unfortunately the conversation between the two did not last much longer, Draco made a lot of noise when entering the bathroom. Y/N without thinking twice, took her wand and stood by, that was what made the girl a first-rate Slytherin. "Who’s there?“

“Y/N, it’s me, Draco” The boy said coming closer to the cabin door where his girlfriend was.“Filthy fellow! Go away, don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Myrtle said flying over the stall with his arms crossed to look Draco in the eye. Naturally Myrtle was already scary, but sailing in anger instead of sad was worse than you can imagine.

“Go away, Draco” A much less aggressive and much more tearful voice came from the other side of the wooden door. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was crying a few minutes ago.“I just want to talk …” Draco put a hand on the door in front of him. “Ah! Briliant! Now do you want to talk? ” Myrtle replied angrily.“Can you let me talk to my girlfriend in peace, Myrtle?!” Draco replied angrily to the ghost that hung over him. Myrtle was going to give a very rude answer when Y/N interrupted her. “Myrtle, if you don’t mind, can you give us a little privacy?” Myrtle groaned in disapproval, but ended up diving through the pipes of one of the bathroom toilets.

“Well, since you decided to be so talkative, you can speek now"

"You can open the door, I mean that for you and not for an old wooden door” Draco grunted, still holding his hands on the door, holding it as if it could fall at any moment.

“No. Whatever you have to say, say it anyway” Y/N shrugged her feet over the toilet, she was sitting on top of the lid.

Draco sighed and leaned his head against the door. "I’m sorry, Y/N.” He sighed for another moment. “I was an idiot. Ignoring you was the most stupid thing I’ve ever done. And teasing you with Pansy was even worse, God that girl is a nightmare.” He vowed to hear a Y/N giggle muffled by the door. Then he turned on his back and stood there. “I … I really tried to be without you, but today in Professor Slughorn’s class, seeing you describe … well … what you described, just made me realize what I was doing, it was so … . bloody stupid. Look, I understand if you want to break up, I really was an asshole, but I needed you to know that I regretted talking to you that way, the same time I saw you walk away from me.” And he walked away from the door.

In all this time together, Y/N had never seen Draco be so transparent with what he felt. So he didn’t want to end, but what about the conversation with Blaise? Y/N opened the door and was faced with a very sad Draco. Definitely the girl had never seen him look so downcast. He let out a sad smile when he saw the girl with puffy eyes and red cheeks in front of him. It was incredible that she was still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

"So you don’t want to finish things?" A hoarse voice came from Y/N’s throat. "Me? Finish? Never! Where did you get that crazy idea? ” Draco replied approaching the girl."I heard you talking to Blaise yesterday in the common room, about not being able to stand the thought of having me at Hogwarts…” She replied looking at her feet. Draco laughed through his nose.“I was talking about Potter, Y/N …” And came closer to the girl.

Now it was Y / N’s turn to laugh. “I should have known …” She finally hugged the boy in front of her by the waist. Draco smiled and looked deep into his girlfriend’s eyes. He was happy again. He felt complete. Having Y/N in his hands was like having the whole world to himself. Drunk with so much love, he didn’t wait another second to place a kiss on the girl’s lips. Was her. He knew she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

After breaking the kiss that shared so much passion, Draco said in such a low tone that only Y/N could hear, even if there was no one else there. “Promise me something?” The girl looked into his gray eyes, always liked the immensity of feelings that lived there, and agreed with the head. “Never walk away from me again, seeing you leave was the worst thing I’ve ever felt.” The girl smiled and placed another short kiss on his lips.

“Never.”

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #slytherin #imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #x reader #harry potter #fanfiction #Harry Potter Smut #draco malfoy smut

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

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Dolce

3x06

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, dead bodies, blood, drugs

Author’s Note: I don’t want to leave Florence :( but i do be missing the dogs

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar

Official Episode Summary: Jack seriously doubts Will's loyalties as the two renew their alliance. Mason Verger plots Hannibal Lecter's capture, while Lecter plans for his final stand.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll @ericacactus @vlightning95 @sweetgoodangel

(not my gif)

all gifs @/rocktheholygrail

Hannibal sat in the bathtub. His head leaned against the side of it. Bedelia sat beside him. She wrung a sponge over his broken, beaten and cut body. Hannibal's eyes landed on hers and his pain saw you, wishing that you were there. He had been waiting for you and Will to arrive, wishing that it was going to happen. He wanted it to be you cleaning his wounds.

He needed it to be you cleaning his wounds.

His wish to have you come with him in the first place that was so strained he didn’t even realize the severity of it until just that moment. In pain, bleeding, sensing the end of something.

Jack Crawford looked at the dead body of Pazzi. It was being carted off by the police, the duck tape still pressed onto his face. Jack was tired. He had gotten a few scratches from his fight with Hannibal but none as severe as Hannibal’s.

Will walked up to Jack. Jack saw him out of the corner of his eye and situated himself toward his former colleague.

“He’s wounded and worried.” You emerged from the crowd behind Will and gave Jack a simple look. Both of you were scratched up. Dried blood covered Will’s forehead and there was a scratch on your cheek. You both clearly had been through something but Jack had not time to ask.

“Hannibal doesn’t worry. Knowing he’s in danger won’t rattle him any more than killing does,” Will said. The three of you looked into the Atrocious Torture Exhbiit, the place where Hannnibal and Jack had fought it out.

“If Rinaldo Pazzi decided to do his duty as an officer of the law, he could have detained Dr. Fell and determined very quickly that he was Hannibal Lecter. Would have taken thirty minutes to get a warrant,” Jack said solemnly.

“All those resources were denied to Pazzi. Once he decided to sell Hannibal, he became a bounty hunter,” Will stated. You scoffed.

“Serves him right. Mason Verger is trying to capture Hannibal himself for purposes of personal revenge. I've often wanted to use my own resources to drop him in his pig's den,” you muttered.

“Have you told la polizia they’re looking for Hannibal Lecter?” Will asked Jack.

“They’re motivated to find Dr. Fell inside the law. Knowing who he is..and what he’s worth, will just coax them out of bounds.”

“It would be a free-for-all,” Will pointed out.

“And Hannibal would slip away.” Jack paused. Both you and Will were facing opposite directions, looking at different artifacts. “Would you slip away with him?”

You and Will shared a look.

“Part of me will always want to,” Wil said.

“You have to cut that part out,” Jack argued.

“You aren’t FBI anymore Jack. You can’t tell either of us what to do,” you sneered. You believed that. Jack had no bearings over your feelings for Hannibal. You were annoyed he thought he had any.

“So you’ll go with him to jail?” Jack asked. You faced him completely.

“If I had come with him to Florence he wouldn’t be going to jail.”

“And that’s what you want?” Jack challenged. You stepped forward to him.

“I hate to see you win Jack.”

“You had him. He was beaten. Why didn’t you kill him?” Will asked, stepping in. Jack, eyes still on you, considered it.

“Maybe I need you to.”

Hannibal looked out the window. He was wearing a cozy sweater, cuddling into it for the last glimpse of hope he may get before a cage. He sketched into his book. Memories of Florence.

“I want to be able to draw these streets from memory. I want to be able to draw the Palazzo Vecchio and the Duomo,” Hannibal said whimsically. Bedelia approached him and took the book from his hand.

“You won’t be coming back here for a very long time,” she whispered.

“Memories of Florence will be all I have. Florence is where I became a man. I see my end in my beginning.”

“All of our endings can be found in our beginnings. History repeats itself and we can’t escape it,” Bedelia stated, turning into the home. Hannibal glanced at the small suitcase. Hsi coat was draped over it.

“You packed lightly,” he stated.

“I packed for you.” She paused a moment and off his questioning look, moved forward. “This is where I leave you. Or more accurately, where you leave me.”

Hannibal nodded slowly. His eyes scanned from the suitcase to her eyes. In essence he was aware he was giving up his Florence hope of you and him. He was aware that he was saying goodbye to Bedelia and also your alternate self.

In hopes to see you again, perhaps for real this time.

Bedelia put a needle carefully on her table. She saw the face of Chiyoh in the back of her mirror and turned around simply, confused at her presence.

“You must be looking for Hannibal Lecter. One of his patients?” she questioned.

“No, not a patient. Where is he?” Chiyoh asked. Her gun was in her hand delicately. It looked like it weighed a feather.

“Gone. Seeing how you let yourself in, I hope it’s not too forward to ask, who the hell are you?”

“Family,” Chiyoh landed on.

“Ah. You’ve come a long way from home,” Bedelia pointed out.

“Who are you?”

“I’m his psychiatrist.” Chiyoh glanced at the ampoule and needle. Bedelia shrugged.

“Medicinal purposes.” Chiyoh studied her further, her eyes narrowed.

“You’re like his bird. I’m his bird, too. I met another one, on the train ride here. He puts us in cages to see what we’ll do.”

“Fly away or dash ourselves dead against the bars,” Bedelia suggested.

“You haven’t flown away.”

Hannibal Lecter looked between the Primavera and his sketchbook. He was drawing it for the thousandth time but this time, in place of the garlanded nymph was your face. In place of pale zephyrus was Will.

Over Hannibal’s shoulder, Will walked into the room. Slowly, the suit that he was wearing suddenly seeming so stuffy. Will’s eyes landed on Hannibal for the first time since Hannibal gutted him. Both men battered and bruised.

He moved forward and gently laid a hand on Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal looked up at Will and smiled, pleased to see him. Will sat down beside Hannibal and for a moment they both absorbed the moment.

“Good to see you,” Will said.

“If I saw you everyday forever, Will, I would remember this time,” Hannibal said as he stared at the man that he loved. They stared at each other for a moment and Will’s smile seemed the brightest thing Hannibal had seen in so long.

“Strange to see you in front of me. Been staring at afterimages of you in places you haven’t been in years,” Will stated.

“To market, to market, to buy a fat pig. Home again, home again, jiggity-jig,” Hannibal said lightly.

“I looked up at the night sky there. Orion above the horizon and, near it, Jupiter. I wondered if you could see it, too. She wondered if our stars were the same.”

She.

You. “I believe some of our stars will always be the same. You entered the foyer of my mind and stumbled down the hall of my beginnings.”

“I wanted to understand you before I laid eyes on you again. I needed it to be clear what I was seeing,” Will explained.

“Where does difference between the past and the future come from?” Hannibal questioned.

“Mine? Before you and after you.” He paused. “Yours? It’s all starting to blur. Mischa. Abigail. Chiyoh.”

“How is Chiyoh?”

Between both boys shoulders, you emerged. You were wearing a gorgeous dress that you usually wouldn’t have pulled out. You bought it here in Florence. It reminded you of Hannibal. Plus your other clothes were bloodied. You looked just as battered and bruised as they did.

You all pulled it off with a regal amount of elegance.

“She pushed us off a train,” you said. Hannibal turned around to see you. The first time you had laid eyes on each other since you had kissed. It was interesting for Hannibal now. He had to double check that Will had heard you too.

“Atta girl.”

“Ah, it hurt,” you said. You walked around the bench and sat between them. They allowed you enough room. You looked at Hannibal and smiled. He smiled back at you.

“We have begun to blur,” Will said after a moment more of absorbing.

“Isn’t that how you found me?” Hannibal questioned.

“Even as the possibility of free will dissipates, my experience of it remains the same. I continue to feel and act as though I have it.”

You looked over at Will and then back at Hannibal. You placed your hands on your lap.

“Why did you let Bedelia live?” you asked. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I figured she had been long dead, gone through and out of your digestive system at this point. There should not have been an ounce of her left so imagine my surprise when I see her completely alive. Confused and lying, but alive.” Hannibal looked into your eyes and you understood.

“I think you know why.”

You held your gaze and then had to leave it in fear of getting emotional.

“Every crime of yours feels like one I am guilty of. Not just Abigail’s murder, but every murder streching backward and forward in time,” Will said after a moment.

“Then what’s left to do? Freeing yourself from me and me freeing myself from you, they’re the same. No longer seeing you in people who aren’t you Y/N. You are part of his equation just as much as Will and I.”

You smiled solemnly.

“We’re conjoined. Curious if any of us can survive separation,” you mused.

“Now’s the hardest test: not letting rage and frustration, nor forgiveness, keep you from thinking.” Hannibal stood up and gestured for you to take his hand. “Shall we?” You took it and stood. Will’s hand was already interlaced between yours, something you did subconsciously when you sat down.

You all stood.

“After you,” Will muttered.

Together the three of you left the gallery. Worse for wear but something blossomed in your hearts, something that only the other two could bring out. You had walked only a few steps before Will was shot to the ground.

Hannibal held Will close to him, trying to get him into the chair. You stood beside him, helping him take his jacket off. Will winced and fell forward, his chin on your shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered. Will’s shirt was soaked with blood. It was dripping down his arm from where the bullet wound entered.

“The bullet is still inside you. This will hurt.” Hannibal took the jacket all the way off and Will watched as Hannibal cut off his shirt. The three of you hadn’t been this close since you were last covered in Will’s blood.

“Chiyoh’s always been very protective of me,” Hannibal said as he looked into the wound.

“Tell her to back the hell off,” you sneered.

“Did she kill her tenant or did you?”

“She did,” Will choked out.

“Excellent.” Hannibal took Will’s knife you didn’t know he had with him, back into his limp hand. “You dropped your forgiveness, Will.” You stared at the blade, bloodied. You caught Will’s eyes. He hadn’t told you he had brought a weapon. “You forgive how God forgives. Would you have done it quickly, or would you have stopped to gloat?”

“Will?” you whispered.

“Does God gloat?” Will asked.

“Often,” Hannibal answered.

Hannibal moved a sharp needle into Will before you even noticed he had it. Will dropped the blade into Hannibal’s waiting hand. Will passed out.

Your mouth hung open as your gaze held the knife. You still had your hand putting pressure into Will’s wound but it loosened.

“I didn’t know,” you whispered, looking up at Hannibal.

“I know,” Hannibal responded. “You wouldn’t have done it anyway. I’m going to dress his wound and get the bullet out. Would you mind waiting in the kitchen? Dinner is almost ready.”

You were so stunned that you stood up. You felt the pull of needing to be by Will but wondered what he would have done to Hannibal. Would you have gone with it?

Chiyoh was right.

You were not the kind of girl who followed a man's lead.

You grabbed Hannibal’s shoulder and pulled him up.

“Why are you staying?”

“Why didn’t you come with me?”

You stared at each other.

“I love Will.”

“The Bloody Valentines.” You scoffed and took the knife from Hannibal’s hands. You threw it off to the side.

“Will is drugged.”

“Are you going to drug me Hannibal?” You stared at each other and he kissed you feverishly, the way he had wanted to since you kissed him last. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held onto him for dear life. You hadn’t touched him in so long.

You pulled away after a moment.

“I wanted to go,” you whispered. “I regretted now going.” You pulled away and stepped back. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Please fix Will.”

Will’s eyes fluttered open. Hannibal walked into the dining room with a large bowl in his hands. Will had a dish set out in front of him.

“I do not indulge much in regret, but I am sorry to be leaving Italy. There were things in the Palazzo Capponi I would have liked to read,” Hannibal admitted. In from the kitchen came you, holding a different dish. You placed it on the table.

A last dodge attempt at normalcy.

“I would have liked to play the clavier and perhaps compose. I might have cooked for the Widow Pazzi, when she overcame her grief. I would have liked to show you both Florence.”

You sat down beside Will and spoon fed him some soup. He looked over at you, confused, doped up.

“The soup isn’t very good,” he slurred.

“It’s a parsley-and-thyme infusion, and more for my sake than yours. Have another sip, let it circulate,” Hannibal explained. Will took another spoon from you. Will and you finally noticed the final place setting at the end of the table.

“Are we expecting company?”

Hannibal grabbed your arm tightly and stood you up.

“It will be Jack,” he told you.

You glanced at Will, out of his mind and slowly losing sight. Hannibal was giving you the invitation you had wanted since Jack stepped into Will’s classroom to talk about Garret Jacob Hobbs.

Jack opened the door to Pazzi’s home. He had his gun held up high as he looked around every corner before he stepped forward. Eventually, Will at the end of the table came into view.

He walked forward and up to Will who blinked, focused on Jack and took a deep breath.

“Hannibal’s under the table, Jack,” Will muttered. Before Jack could react you had grabbed him from behind and a blade slashed Jack’s achilles heel.

Jack dropped hard.

Hannibal turned to you and his gaze softened.

“You will not join me in prison,” he whispered. Your eyebrows furrowed. He grabbed your arm and shoved a needle into your side. You let out a small, betrayed sigh and passed out.

Jack came to and found himself seated opposite Will.

“I’ve taken the liberty of giving you something to help you relax. Won’t be able to do much more than chew, but that’s all you’ll need to do. I didn’t have an opportunity to ask you during our last encounter, but did you enjoy the exhibition? A different kind of evil minds museum,” Hannibal said to Jack.

“Not so different,” Jack retored. He noticed you were gone from the room.

“The promoters are failed taxidermists who formerly got along by eating offal from the trophies they mounted things that bring people together.”

“We were supposed to sit down together back in Baltimore...the three of us. And Y/N.”

“You were to be the guest of honor,” Hannibal said, ignoring the mention of your name. Hannibal poured himself a glass of wine and took a leisurely sip.

“Where…” Will started but he didn’t finish.

“Jack was the first to suggest getting inside your head,” Hannibal said. “Now be both have the opportunity to chew quite literally what we’ve only chewed figuratively.”

Hannibal held a bone saw in his hands. Jack suddenly realized what was going on. For a moment, all Jack could think about was what you would say if you were in the room.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!”

Blood trickled down Will’s head despite his protests.

3x07

#hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagines #will graham x reader #will graham imagines #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #hannibal imagines

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wingsofkpop · 3 years

Text

Hiraeth - I.IX: Bloodborne

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting, blood and gore, some satanic themes, mentions of trauma, etc.

word count: 6,5k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

“—so once Youngjae channels enough power from the blood moon tonight, he’ll be able to lower the veil between the Other Side and the physical plane long enough to resurrect your spirit into a mortal body.” You explain, glancing over your notes at the unusually quiet figure sitting on your bed. Something about his expression seems distant—almost sorrowful.

After your return from the hospital, and after the long chat with your roommate convincing her that your absence all night was due to a last minute work emergency, a certain ghost phased into your bedroom. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be this concerned, but during his visits, Jackson usually never shuts up. If you were all alone with no one to talk to, you probably wouldn’t either.

You lower your notebook and shake your head, “You haven’t said one word since you showed up. What’s wrong?”

Jackson purses his lips, as if nervous to relay the thoughts swirling through his mind. Another brief moment of silence passes before he finally murmurs, “It’s the witches. They’re starting to get suspicious again… I don’t know how long I have before they figure out I’ve been crossing over to this plane.”

“Then we’ll just have to bring you back before they find out.” You grab your phone from your desk, checking through your notifications to see if a certain siphoner has yet responded to your dozens of texts and calls. No dice.

You haven’t been able to reach Youngjae since yesterday morning, which is odd considering the guy is the type to respond within three seconds of receiving a message. It would be one thing if he let you know that he’s busy, but it’s complete radio silence. It’s not like Youngjae at all.

“You’re worried about something.”

Your eyes dartup at Jackson’s observation, discovering his concerned gaze focused on you.

“It’s Youngjae.” You sigh, “I haven’t heard from him, but I’m sure he’s just busy brewing potions or something.” You expect to earn at least a chuckle from the ghost, but his silence remains along with the blank expression along his face. His same distant demeanor also lingers, and this time, your concern grows to panic. “What is it, Jackson? What’s going on?”

“I didn’t want to say anything cause I was sure it was all in my head, but I feel that something is… weird.”

“Weird?”

“It’s hard to explain.” He continues, “But as a ghost, I can feel things around me… like right now, the universe just seems off—” His voice cuts out as he frantically shakes his head, “Anyway, I just want you to be careful. Mark used to tell me that disrupting the balance of nature is like opening Pandora’s box.”

“Yeah. We will be doing none of that.” You set your phone down before crossing the room to kneel in front of Jackson. A grin lifts to your lips as you hum to the ghost, “So what do you feel when you’re around me?...”

Jackson raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You said you feel things around you… Do you feel anything special when you’re with me?”

You’re surprised at the eagerness that swells in your chest as he takes his time to think over your question. The inquiry was supposed to be a joke to lighten the mood, but you’re actually curious about your companion’s ghastly perceptions. After maybe a minute or two, Jackson sends you a small smile:

“I feel… light.”

“Light? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You have this aura around you.” Jackson affirms, mindlessly reaching forward thumb at your cheek. You obviously can’t feel his touch, but something in your gut tells you that if you could, you would feel nothing but warmth. “I feel powerful when I’m with you…”

“Is that a good thing?”

He grins, “I think so.”

You continue to stare at one another for a moment, almost attempting to read the depths in each other’s eyes. It’s not until a harsh knock resonates from the front door do you finally break the gaze, offering Jackson a final hum, “I’ll bring you back as soon as I can. I promise.”

Jackson nods, “I know you will. But like I said, please be careful.”

“I will. See you soon.” You wait for Jackson to disappear completely before exiting your bedroom, cursing Sana for leaving you to deal with whoever is incessantly banging on your door. It’s probably the old lady from across the hall wanting to borrow another cup of sugar. You roll your eyes at the thought and open the door, ready to politely decline your neighbor’s request.

Your words die on your tongue—definitely not the old lady from across the hall.

“Mark? What are you—?”

“What? Not expecting to see me?” Mark’s hostile growl takes you by surprise, as does the furious expression etched along his features. “That’s not surprising since you’ve been ignoring me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Oh. I’m sure.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You wanna know what my problem is?” Mark takes a step closer to you before pointing a finger in your direction, “The fact that you not only lie to me, but you go behind my back and then deliberately avoid me for days on end.”

“What are you even talking about, Mark?”

“I’m talking about you and Youngjae playing God and resurrecting Jackson.”

Your muscles instantly freeze, as if Mark had taken a tub of ice water and thrown it over your head. The annoyance inside your chest shifts to guilt, and your once cold features cannot help but soften.

You shake your head, “Mark, I—”

“Do you know how dangerous it is to bring someone back from the dead, (Y/N)?” Mark lowers his voice, but his tone remains as frigid as his gaze. “Do you know the consequences that happen when you fuck with the balance of nature?”

“I get that, but—it’s complicated, Mark… There’s things you don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand!?” He scoffs, “Last I checked, I’m the goddamn witch here, (Y/N)! You know nothing about magic and its sacrifice!”

“Maybe not, but I do know that there is a chance I could bring Jackson back!” You shake your head again, “Please, just give me a chance to explain—”

“No. Because it’s not fucking happening.” Mark interrupts, furiously shaking his own head. “I forbid you to do this.”

It’s like a switch goes off in your mind. Your guilt immediately transforms, but this time, it configures into rage:

“You forbid me!? Who the flying fuck do you think you are!?”

“I won’t sit back and allow you to get yourself killed—!”

“And last I checked, you don’t have the right to control what I do and the decisions I make!” You seethe, stepping further back into your apartment. “This is my choice. I’m resurrecting Jackson whether you like it or not.”

“Fine! Get yourself fucking killed for all I care!” The witch raises his hands in mock surrender. “At least then I won’t have to deal with your reckless, moronic ass!”

“Fuck you, Mark.” You don’t allow the witch to say anything further and slam the door in his face. Your chest remains unbearably heavy, both physically and mentally, but you ignore the sweltering emotions and begin to traverse around the apartment, gathering your bag and other assorted belongings.

A confused and rather concerned Sana emerges from her bedroom a few seconds later. “Are you okay? What was with all that yelling?”

“Don’t worry about it,” You huff, shoving your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. “Just Mark being a douchebag, as per usual.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find Youngjae.”

“Isn’t it kind of late?”

“I’m an adult, Sana.” You snap before throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Don’t wait up for me.”

Similar to Mark, you don’t allow Sana the chance to question you further and sprint out the front door, praying that Youngjae will be up to bringing Jackson back in the next few hours.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Mark has never exercised the greatest control over his emotions. It first began when he was twelve, after his dad walked out on his mom. He found himself sobbing his eyes out some days, and beating the shit out of other kids on others. His mood ranged from intense rage to extreme depression. There was no in between.

In an effort to help, his mom enrolled him in a program designed to teach teens how to handle their emotions. But to no one’s surprise, the therapy didn’t do shit and Mark continued to initiate fights and cry himself to sleep most nights. He never understood why he felt this way—he still doesn’t, to be honest. His dad and him were never close, nor did he ever really care about his sudden departure. Maybe he was just an angry kid with depression. Maybe it was something else.

It wasn’t until his mom was killed did Mark begin to pull his life together, which also happened to be around the same time he met the too-friendly, homeschooled kid with an ego the size of Jupiter, Jackson Wang. Sure, the two of them butted heads every so often, but with Jackson being a werewolf, Mark learned the importance of managing the chaos within. ‘Emotion is like a loaded gun,’ he remembers Jackson once said, ‘If you let yourself pull the trigger without first aiming down sights, then you risk sinking a bullet into someone you love.’ Those words remain with him—remind him what means to stay in control.

But when it involves the people he loves, Mark can’t always regulate the ticking bomb counting down in his soul.

An ache settles in his chest as he recalls the passionate fire in your gaze. There’s always been some parts of you that reminds Mark of his past friend, specifically your stubbornness and inability to think before you act. He’s never found himself hating those parts of you until now—and he shouldn’t, Mark knows that, but he’s so fucking angry and so fucking scared of losing yet another one of the most important people in his life.

He’s experienced his fair share of loss, but losing you… It would break him. Completely.

Mark tries to push the intrusive thoughts from the forefront of his mind and focus on navigating his way through the dark maze of headstones and crumbling tombs. Right after you slammed your front door in his face, he received a text from Youngjae summoning him, Jisung and Lia to an emergency meeting at the edge of the cemetery. He’s still mad at the siphoner for assisting with your reckless scheme, but he won’t allow his pettiness to interfere with the safety of the coven.

A sigh falls from his lips—he does regret ever saying those ending words to you though… because what if they’re the last ones you hear from him.

‘I’m so sorry, Jackson…’

Mark’s misery is forgotten when he notices a group of people up ahead. He recognizes Lia, Jisung and Youngjae flocked together inside a chalk-white circle surrounded by lit torches. For a moment, Mark wonders if they’re in the middle of performing some type of seance, but his curiosity dwindles into confusion when he grows aware of the panic present in each set of their features.

He breaks into a sprint to cover more distance, approaching the strangely placed trio in no time. At the sight of him, Lia immediately bursts into tears, furthering the anxiety bubbling at the back of his throat.

“What the hell is going on!?”

“Hyung! You have to get out of here right now!” Mark notices the swollen, angry flesh of Youngjae’s bottom lip as he speaks, along with the ugly bruise underneath his left eye.

“What happened?” He ignores the siphoner’s warnings, attempting to reach inside the circle and grab Lia’s arm. However, his hand is met with resistance—a boundary spell. “Who did this to you?”

Lia sobs, “Just go, Mark! Before he hurts you!”

“Before who hurts me!? What are you—” His demands die in his throat as another figure appears from behind a large, marble gravestone. He immediately recognizes the newcomer, which sends even more confusion through his veins. “Seo Changbin? What the hell is this?”

“It’s an emergency meeting, hyung.” Mark feels his entire body freeze when the familiar, conniving voice enters his ears. “You had me a little worried… I almost thought you wouldn’t show up.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Mark whirls around to face a smirking Minho cockily leaning against the wall of an empty tomb. “What kind of game do you think you’re playing, Minho?”

The younger witch shrugs before pushing off the wall to pace around the area. As he draws closer and closer, Mark can spy an ancient, navy blue ring sitting heavily on his forefinger. He’s never seen any piece of jewelry like it before, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t just a simple ring—and that he’s definitely in some kind of trouble.

“Mind explaining to me what we’re doing here? Or are you just going to continue pacing around the place like a cocky bastard?”

“Tonight is a special night, hyung… You wanna know why?” He watches Minho point to the night sky, “In just a few minutes, the moon will drift into the Earth’s shadow and the light of the sun will reflect across the moon’s surface, thus causing a blood moon… It’s actually pretty cool—”

“For Christsake, Minho—get to the goddamn point.”

“You know, for years I had to deal with all your bullshit excuses and justifications of putting our coven in danger—it was only a matter of time until one of us ended up dead, don’t you think?”

A bitter memory of Nayeon’s corpse resurfaces, but Mark remains silent.

“Everyone was too fucking blind, but I saw right through you.” Mark doesn’t move a muscle when Minho suddenly approaches, crowding his space until his nose is mere inches from brushing his own. The younger witch’s harsh glare bleeds into his soul as he continues, “You’re a poor fucking excuse for a leader, hyung—a leader who can’t even protect his own people.”

“And you think you can do better, huh?” Mark growls, glaring his own daggers into Minho’s gaze. “You have no fucking clue what it takes to run this coven… Admit it, you’re just pissed they chose me over you.”

“And look where that got them.”

“You need to cut out whatever petty bullshit this is and let Youngjae, Jisung and Lia go.” Mark murmurs, “Whatever problems you have are with me, so let’s just talk it out, okay?”

“Oh, Mark-hyung…” Minho’s gaze is unwavering from his own as he lifts a hand to rest on Mark’s shoulder. It’s a second too late that Mark realizes it is the same hand in which holds the mysterious ring:

“I’m over talking it out.”

Youngjae’s screams and Lia’s sobs echo in his ears along with the words that spill from Minho’s lips—they’re foreign, but Mark recognizes the spell right away. He tries to squirm and fight against the perpetrator’s grip, but another pair of hands keep his body in place—Changbin.

Bit by bit, Mark feels the buzz of his magic lift from his veins like a flock of doves. His limbs grow weak and his head fuzzy. Soon enough, his own knees no longer bear the strength to hold his weight. Once both Minho and Changbin release him, Mark collapses to the ground—empty and unable to rise.

“What did you do to him!?” Mark hears Jisung’s voice for the first time, although his brain is not fully able to comprehend the inquiry.

“I took his magic. He won’t be needing it anymore.”

Mark manages to find enough strength to reposition his body in a way that allows him to watch both Minho and Changbin approach a makeshift altar composed of an old, concrete coffin. Through the blur of his vision, he catches the witch stirring some kind of crimson mixture—likely blood. Minho looks to the moon, which is slowly brightening to a shade of maroon, before resting his gaze on his companion:

“It’s time.” He offers the mixture to Changbin, “Once you drink this, I can begin the transformation.”

“And you’re sure this spell will give me everything I need to take down the Primes?”

“One hundred percent.”

Take down the Primes?… Fucking hell.

“Minho! Don’t do this!” Mark can’t make out his own voice between the ringing of his ears and the beating of his heart, but he can only hope they’re audible enough for his audience. “The transformation—it won’t work!”

Youngjae shakes his head. “I don’t understand… What are you talking about, hyung?”

“He’s going to try to recreate the spell I used on Jackson on Changbin.” With a huff and a puff, Mark pushes himself to his hands and knees. He attempts to crawl forward, but the spinning of his head sends his body sprawling along the ground once again. He abandons any more thoughts of movement and speaks to Minho directly, “It will kill him—do you understand me!? You can’t—”

“You failed because you couldn’t draw enough power to complete the transformation.” Minho doesn’t even bother to look in his direction, “It will work—I know it will.”

Understanding there’s no possible way to convince the witch, Mark looks to the werewolf instead, “I’m warning you, Changbin! If you go through with this, you will die!”

“Don’t listen to him. Just drink the blood.”

“No! For fucksake, this is suicide!”

“Think of Jackson.” Minho murmurs to a torn Changbin, reaching across the altar to place a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Do it for him.”

“Changbin, don’t—!”

Mark watches in horror as Changbin throws back the mixture and downs its entirety in two gulps. His heart shatters like the glass vial the werewolf launches to the ground. He peers to his left, discovering the same shocked expressions across Youngjae, Jisung and Lia’s faces, and shakes his head in defeat as Lia begins to sob again.

“Filia maximo… Filia maximo… Morsus, morsus—” The wind begins to screech as Minho chants, tearing at Mark’s hair and nudging at his clothes, as if pleading for him to stop the spell. But there’s nothing he can do. For once, Mark is powerless. “—morsus… Advenio donec duo est revertus mors…” With a loud scream, Changbin collapses to the earth. He squirms and writhes in pain underneath the flaming light of the moon—and Mark can’t help but attempt to block out the snaps of his cracking bones.

The scene seems to last for hours until Changbin eventually grows silent. Mark takes the time to catch his breath, unable to control his lungs over the anxiety, fear and nausea lurking through his veins. He wants to look away from the still werewolf, but his gaze is as frozen as the rest of his body.

His eyes burn with tears of rage—Changbin is dead. Another person died because of his own fucking stupidity. Mark should have known this would happen again. He should have stopped it. He should have—

His thoughts disappear as Changbin suddenly gasps for air. For a moment, he claws at the earth as if attempting to ground himself, before he finally, albeit shakily, climbs to his feet. Minho cautiously approaches the wolf, peering down at the shorter male with a gaze full of concern.

“How do you feel?...”

“I feel…” Changbin flexes his fingers again, before closing them into tight fists. The moonlight illuminates the crimson glow of his irises and the sharpness of his long, black fangs as he faces the witch—a malicious smirk spreading along his lips as he chuckles, “I feel like kicking some ancient Prime ass.”

Mark can’t find the strength to watch anymore and allows his head to lower to the earth. Just before his eyes flutter shut, he swears he spots the movement of shadows from behind a nearby headstone. But before he can confirm his suspicions, his head takes one final spin and the world grows dark.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

June 13th, 1769 — As much as I enjoy the atmosphere of Paris, I believe it is time to progress onto another part of the world. Some of the townsfolk are beginning to grow suspicious, considering I appear twenty years younger than my supposed age. Nevertheless, I will not mind a new start elsewhere. Jaebeom, on the other hand, will be a terror to convince. As he claimed last time I brought the idea to light, ‘There will never be a place more beautiful than Paris.’

But I know he is not through playing with his newest toy—Tzuyu.

I set sail for the newlands tomorrow at sunrise. Whether my brother decides to accompany me or not is solely his preference. It would be pleasant to spend some time apart—to spend some time in peace—but I know, with many complaints and reluctance, Jaebeom will board the ship tomorrow. Wherever I traverse, he follows, and vice versa. We are family, after all.

I will miss Notre Dame the most. I have grown used to visiting the Cathedral and repenting my wrongdoings to the high priest. Of course, I am forced to erase his memory of our talks each time, but it is nice to confess. It lifts a weight off of the shoulders, takes away a small portion of the guilt. If there is a god, he would never allow a creature like me to walk amongst his heavens—but at least I can salvage the lingering hope left inside of my soul. Speaking of hope, I thought I saw a woman that resembled Irene during my daily visit to the church. I find it amusing that after all these years, my heart continues to yearn for her presence. She was truly special—I wonder if she ever thought the same of me.

I’ve heard some of the sailors refer to a shore in the newland that has yet to be claimed. It may be the perfect location for Jaebeom and I to start anew. I can only hope it is as beautiful as people say. Maybe I will construct a place of worship as stunning as the Cathedral.

Isn’t that ironic?... A vampire who believes in faith.

Jinyoung finishes the entry with a sigh, welcoming the nostalgia that spreads through his thoughts like an old friend. It seems just yesterday that he recorded his first thoughts about the land that would become Moon Dye Bay. He shakes his head, carefully setting the old journal back on the bookshelf.

He never did build that church.

“Reminiscing again, brother?” The moment is ruined when a certain hybrid’s snicker reaches his ears. Jinyoung rolls his eyes as Jaebeom takes residence beside him, dragging his fingers along the spines of Jinyoung’s other diaries. “We did have some great times back in the 18th century… Remember our battles during the French Revolution? I rather enjoyed King Louis and Marie Antoinette’s executions.”

“You enjoy anything that involves bloodshed.”

“Don’t be so resentful, Jinyoungie. It’s not my fault that the queen had you in her interests.”

Jinyoung shakes his head before retreating to his desk to fix himself a drink. “The woman was as shallow as a poor soul’s ego. She was taken with any man who’d pay her the time of day. It was a miracle her death came as quickly as it did.”

“Careful there. You sound like me.”

Jinyoung deliberately chooses not to respond to Jaebeom’s comment and proceeds to pour two glasses of bourbon. He ignores his companion’s wide smirk as he hands him one of the drinks. Both the vampire and the hybrid simultaneously take a sip, peering at one another over the rims of their cups. Jaebeom is the first to break the silence with a pleased inhale and a hum:

“You returned pretty late last night. I hope you used protection during your time with (Y/N).”

“Mind your tongue, hyung.” Jinyoung warns, “I brought (Y/N) to the hospital after the attack—I trust you took care of Tzuyu?”

Jaebeom smirks. “Of course. She won’t be alive long enough to target your newest Maria Antonia again.”

About to inhale another sip of his bourbon, Jinyoung pauses to mull over the answer. He lowers his glass to his side before delivering Jaebeom a confused expression and a murmured inquiry, “What do you mean she won’t be alive?”

“Tzuyu and I got into an argument and, well, she pissed me off.” Jinyoung watches Jaebeom down the rest of his drink.

“Please tell me you didn’t bite her, Jaebeom-hyung.” He curses at the widening of Jaebeom’s smirk, slamming his glass back down on his desk with enough force to crack its exterior. “When I told you to deal with her, I didn’t mean condemn her to a fate of pain. If you wished to kill her, you could have at least been merciful and done it quick.”

“Last I checked, you said it yourself not to be kind.” Jinyoung follows Jaebeom as he pours himself another drink and collapses onto a brown, leather sofa. He tips his glass toward him with a smile before continuing, “I thought the punishment fit the crime, and we wouldn’t want to put helpless, human (Y/N) in danger again, would we?”

“You turned it off, didn’t you?” Jinyoung realizes, “Does holding onto your humanity wound you that badly, hyung? That you have no choice but to wish it away?”

“If I remember correctly, I’m not the only one that can’t hold onto their humanity… How many people did you kill in the ‘20s alone? One thousand? Maybe two?”

Jinyoung shakes his head, “I’m not that person anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” In the blink of an eye, Jaebeom is in front of Jinyoung—his glass in pieces on the floor beside him. He leans in until Jinyoung can taste the alcohol of his breath on his tongue, then whispers darkly, “You can lie to yourself all you fucking want, Jinyoung. But deep down, you’ll always know what you are… let’s just hope (Y/N) never finds out, hm?”

At the mention of your name, Jinyoung’s anger expands. He suppresses the urge to take the table beside him and smash it over the hybrid’s head, and instead inhales a deep breath. Jaebeom is only trying to provoke him—and he refuses to be a pawn in his foolish games.

“You will remember what it was like to feel human again.” Jinyoung sighs, “For your sake, I hope your remembrance comes sooner rather than later.”

Jaebeom tsks, “Being human is overrated.”

“He said the same thing about fate.” Both Jinyoung and Jaebeom whirl around at the appearance of a third voice. Jinyoung feels his blood begin to boil at the sight of the familiar vampire in the doorway, once again, suppressing his desire to launch a piece of furniture in her direction. “Ironically, fate and humanity are a package deal.”

Jaebeom growls, “What the fuck are you doing here, Tzuyu?”

“I came to try and convince you to give me your blood.” Tzuyu coughs, and Jinyoung swears he can hear the rattle of her bones. “But judging by your attitude, that’s obviously going to be harder than I thought.”

“You have courage for showing your face again.” Jinyoung crosses his arms with a dark hum, “Especially so soon after you nearly killed (Y/N).”

“It wasn’t my intention to kill her. I just wanted to send a message.”

“Is that so?” With a malicious glare, Jinyoung steps forward and tilts his head toward the vampire, “And what kind of message was that?”

“For (Y/N) to stay away from Jaebeom.” Another violent cough wracks through Tzuyu’s thin form, causing a light stream of blood to splatter from her lips. She wipes her mouth with a ragged breath before continuing, “Look, I did it for her own good. We all know his track record at keeping humans alive.”

“You did it to protect her!?” Jaebeom cackles, “Wow! That’s fucking priceless!”

“Say what you will, you both know I’m right.” Tzuyu says, propping herself up against a nearby bookshelf. “It’s either she ends up dead or is turned into a vampire—then again, there’s not much of a difference between the two, is there?”

“I would die before I allow (Y/N) to come to any harm.”

“The only issue with that is you can’t die, Jinyoung.” Jinyoung doesn’t take his eyes off Tzuyu as she grabs a bottle of brandy from the top shelf. It takes her literal seconds to unscrew the cap and down a good portion of the container. She licks her lips and says, “I’m sorry I attacked (Y/N), okay? I went too far. I won’t do it again.”

“You think an apology is enough to save your life?” Jaebeom snickers before snatching the alcohol from the vampire, “Think again, sweetheart.”

“What do you want from me, Jaebeom? Does seeing me die a slow, painful death bring you joy?”

He shrugs, “No one mourns for the wicked.”

“Is he always this much of an asshole?”

Jinyoung chuckles, “Pretty much.”

“Great.” The vampire breathes out a sigh and cards her fingers through her hair. After a brief moment of silence, she directs her attention back to Jaebeom and pleads—her voice packed with desperation and fear, “What can I do to convince you to let me live? Please, Jaebeom… I don’t want to die.”

“You should have thought about that before you touched what I told you not to.” Jinyoung remains quiet as Jaebeom lifts a hand to grasp Tzuyu’s jaw. The dying visitor remains unphased, proceeding to glare at the hybrid with hateful, yet oddly sorrowful eyes. “I suggest you show yourself out before I end your life sooner.”

“You’re going to lose everything one of these days, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu shakes her head sadly, wiping away a layer of cold sweat from her forehead. “You’re going to lose everyone, even your brother, and you’re going to be alone. For an eternity.”

“Save the monologue.” Jaebeom waves dismissively, taking a sip of the brandy before returning it back to its shelf. “Petty isn’t a good look for you, baby.”

“Fuck you, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu goes to stomp out the door, but something—someone blocks her path. The atmosphere changes when Jinyoung notices your panicked form, practically gasping for air and cross-eyed, standing in the doorway. He immediately speeds to your side without hesitation, grasping your hands in hopes to ground you.

He stares into your eyes, “What is it, (Y/N)? What’s wrong?”

“You and Jaebeom have to get the hell out of here! Right now!”

Jaebeom shakes his head in confusion, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t know what exactly happened but Minho turned Changbin into this dark werewolf creature or-or something… I do know, however, that Changbin is on his way right now to kill you both.” Jinyoung steps back at the intensity of your explanation, unable to think of a response over the roar of his thoughts. Through his peripheral vision, he can spot the same type of speechlessness across Jaebeom’s face.

Not again…

“That’s stupid… You realize nothing can kill them, right?” Tzuyu scoffs.

“This is different.” You urge, “I saw Changbin—he wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before… The spell that Minho used, it was-was—”

“Dark magic.” Jinyoung finishes blankly, “The spell was dark magic.”

“Yes… which means you and Jaebeom need to leave town as fast as you possibly can before—”

“I don’t think anyone is going anywhere, (Y/N).” Jinyoung’s entire body grows stiff as a new voice echoes throughout the study. He cautiously turns his head, discovering none other than the young werewolf in question resting among the shadows. His eye also catches the open window a few inches away, and he curses himself for ever wanting to feel the nightly draft.

Changbin’s smirk is as dark as his eyes.

“What?... Not going to offer me a drink?”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“(Y/N)! Get out of here! Now!” Jaebeom hears Jinyoung scream as the werewolf suddenly launches forward, knocking his brother into the bookshelf behind him. The wood completely splinters beneath the impact, raining down an array of books and planks on Jinyoung’s body. Changbin turns to Jaebeom next, but the hybrid is ready—and pissed off.

Jaebeom speeds toward the intruder and delivers a swift kick to the gut. Changbin flies back at the force, crashing back through the window with a loud growl. Sensing the urgency in time, Jaebeom quickly throws Jinyoung’s immobile body over his shoulder and urges both you and Tzuyu out the study door.

“Come on! We gotta go!”

“Jaebeom! What the hell is happening!?” He ignores Tzuyu’s fearful ask and proceeds to lug Jinyoung through the maze of hallways and down the staircase, you and the female vampire hot on his heels. He doesn’t know exactly where he’s going, but he makes his way to the parlor where he props Jinyoung up against a nearby chair before turning to you:

“You need to leave. I will deal with this.”

“No way. I’m not going anywhere.” Jaebeom curses your stubbornness inside his head, sending a stern glare in your direction. Your expression remains fixated, and he can’t help but wish your presence in any other situation but now.

“I can’t protect you right now—”

“And I can’t sit back and watch you get yourselves killed!” You shake your head indignantly, “I’m staying!”

“Fucking hell, (Y/N)! Get your ass out that door before I throw you out myself!”

“Jaebeom, watch out!” At Tzuyu’s cue, a wooden branch comes soaring in through the window. Jaebeom immediately throws himself against you, effectively forcing your body to the ground to dodge the projectile. He can feel your fear through the trembling of your limbs and hurried breaths, but it only brings him more determination to tear apart his attacker.

He shakes his head in surrender, “You stay on the fucking ground, understand? Don’t you fucking dare move a muscle.” He doesn’t bother to wait for a response and pushes himself back to his feet.

Tzuyu is huddled in a corner, and Jinyoung has yet to awaken from his crash landing back in the study. Jaebeom tries to focus his senses on detecting the werewolf, but he can’t seem to hear anything past the beating of his own heart. He carefully makes his way over to the incapacitated vampire, attempting to force him back to consciousness.

“Now is really not the time for a fucking nap, Jinyoung.” He hisses, “I swear to god, if I have to save your ass one more time—” Another wave of tree branches come crashing through the windows. Unfortunately, Jaebeom is not as quick and one catches his shoulder at just the right angle. He feels the wood sink into his flesh, painfully carving into his bones. With a low groan, Jaebeom manages to grab the makeshift stake and remove it in one hefty pull.

He tosses it away with a yell, “You gonna hide like a little bitch!? Or are you gonna come out and fight like a man!?”

“Be careful what you wish for, asshole!” Jaebeom turns just in time to discover the werewolf emerging from a shattered window. His blood boils when he notices the sadistic grin along the young kid’s face—he wonders how those teeth will look strewn across the parlor floor.

Changbin comes at him fast, much faster than Jaebeom could have predicted. He manages to dodge a set of jabs, but he’s not so lucky when Changbin lands a heavy hit against the side of his face. Pain erupts through his jaw as he collapses to the floor, but Jaebeom doesn’t have the chance to dwell over it and rolls out of the way just as the werewolf attempts to stomp his nose.

Jaebeom tries to speed away again, but like before, his counterpart is faster. Changbin manages to force him to the floor for a second time, pinning his body down with his own. Horrified, the hybrid watches as the werewolf’s eyes glow blood red and large, pitch black fangs emerge past his parted lips. Once again, he attempts to break free, but it’s no use—Changbin is too strong.

Just when he believes the wolf’s fangs are going to sink into his neck, another form knocks Changbin away. Jaebeom hurriedly props himself on his arms in time to watch Tzuyu deliver a series of hits and kicks to the perpetrator, eventually slamming his head into a nearby armoire. Taking advantage of the moment, she turns from Changbin to Jaebeom instead:

“Grab Jinyoung and (Y/N) and run!” She screams, “Get the hell of here!”

Unable to move, Jaebeom remains as Tzuyu attempts to fight off the wolf. But with the combination of his ultimate strength and her weakness from Jaebeom’s venom, her defeat is inevitable. He watches in terror as Changbin sinks his teeth into the vampire’s arm before yanking her head forward and effectively snapping her neck. Jaebeom feels his insides practically soar with rage when the attacker tosses a comatose Tzuyu across the room like a useless toy.

“I’ll kill you…” He sneers, allowing his own supernatural features to overtake his face. “I’ll fucking kill you…”

Changbin shakes his head with a smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”

Using the little agility he has left, Jaebeom grabs one of the branches and speeds toward the wolf. Due to Changbin’s movements, he misses his chest, but manages to stab the weapon in his stomach. Changbin releases a pained groan, allowing Jaebeom to take advantage of his surprise and land another array of uppercuts to his face. Just when he finally thinks he has the upper hand, his opponent blocks one of his hits and pins him against a wall with a hand around his throat.

“Any last words, Prime?”

“You really think you can kill me?” Jaebeom growls, squirming against Changbin’s hold.

“I know I can… Have fun rotting in Hell—fuck!”

Shock spills through Jaebeom’s veins as the point of branch suddenly appears through the center of the wolf’s chest, splattering red across both of their bodies. Changbin’s grip releases, allowing the hybrid to quickly speed out of his reach. Once he’s a safe distances away, Jaebeom looks to his savior, discovering the one person he never expected to see—

You stand over Changbin’s body—chest heaving and bloodied hands trembling. Your eyes are glassy when Jaebeom meets your gaze, and for some reason, he feels the urge to go and pull your form into a tight embrace. Your voice, however, returns his mind to reality:

“Did I… Did I kill him?”

“I don’t think so.” Jaebeom answers, nursing his wound with his own shaky fingers. “We need to get out of here—get somewhere safe.”

“Good idea.” You trudge over to where Jinyoung is still unconsciously laid across the chair. Jaebeom follows your lead and hurries over to a lifeless Tzuyu. “I know somewhere we can go… but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“(Y/N)... There is an immortal, unkillable super wolf out to kill me and my brother currently in my living room…” He snorts, maneuvering Tzuyu’s body into one arm and assisting you and Jinyoung with the other.

“Trust me, anywhere is a hell of a lot better than here…”

87 notes · View notes

kitsutaes · 4 years

Text

pluto protector

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff, coming of age-ish, bffs2lovers!, astrophysicist!reader, & artist!taehyung

word count: 2.6k

rating: pg-13 i guess

warnings: none

a/n: this is inspired by rex orange county’s song pluto projector, a song i love so so much. also this fic is split up into small parts & it focuses more on tae’s and reader’s small but important moments together !! i hope you like it even though it isn’t too heavily edited. p.s. thank you teresa / @sketchguk for looking this over !! you da best !!

summary: you and taehyung have been in the same galaxy, orbiting one another for as long as you could remember. but as time passes, gravity pulls you in closer and closer, ready for the two of you to collide.

Kim Taehyung was your protector. Just at the age of nine, Kim Taehyung held your hand as the two of you ran around the playground, feet hitting the wood chips that spewed around. His disheveled chocolate brown hair bounced around as he ran, eyes bright as he turned around to look at you. He had a goofy smile plastered on his face, exuberant as any nine year old at the park with his best friend should be.

“___! Let’s go on the swirly slide!” Taehyung yells, pointing at the bright red slide ahead. The playground near your neighborhood was huge since it was already part of an already massive park. While the park had its own variety of plants and wildlife, the playground consisted of slides, swings, monkey bars, and corkscrew climbers that allowed you to climb up and slide down like you were going down a fireman’s pole; only round and round instead of sliding straight down.

“Okay, but only if we go on the monkey bars next Tae!” You respond, swinging your arm that held his hand. Your eyes matched his, bright and bubbly. Taehyung nodded as the two of you climbed the blue steps that led to the big red swirly slide.

“You first or me?” Taehyung asks, letting go of you hand to grasp the yellow metal bars on the sides of the red slide. You roll your eyes, seeing his mischievous grin, basically telling you he was he was ready to go first.

“You.”

Sticking out your tongue at him, Taehyung takes off, gravity pulling him down until his sneakers hit the ground. He turns around, motioning for you to slide down.

“C’mon ___!” Taehyung calls from below. His arms are crossed as he waits for you to come down. You nod, your own hands gripping the metal bars Taehyung previously held onto as you’re seated on the bright red plastic. Letting go, you slide down, feeling parts of your hair stick up to the underside of the slide.

Taehyung’s eyes widen as he knows what’s coming next. You’re up and off of the slide, ready to chase him and zap him with your finger charged with static.

“___! Come and get me!” Taehyung giggles running off to the opposite side of the playground to avoid getting shocked. You’re right behind him, but you trip on your own foot, falling onto the wood chips.

Instead of a smile, you’ve got a pout on your face. Eyes turning red, brimming with tears, ready to cry. Taehyung’s looking back at you with a worried expression, heels turning around as he’s running back towards you.

“Tae!” You cry as his arms are helping you up, feet standing upright once again. His hands are gripping onto yours, leading you back to where your parents were.

“It’s okay ___, I’ve got you.”

At the age of twelve, Kim Taehyung was still your protector. Although you ended up with different teachers and classes, the two of you didn’t drift apart like most friends did as they entered middle school. Most kids ended up finding new friends, groups, cliques–forgetting and leaving the friendships they made when they were just a few years younger. But, you and Taehyung weren’t like most kids. The two of you stayed together in gravity’s grasp, never leaving the solar system you shared.

Just like always, after school, Taehyung came over to do homework with you since you shared the same subjects. His green backpack would be plopped onto your carpeted floor right beside yours, colored pencils and papers almost spilling out of them.

“You had to read The Monkey’s Paw too?” You ask turning around in your seat, nose scrunching at the thought of the story Mrs. Tang read to your class today that gave you the chills. It was a story written by W.W. Jacobs that just had to be a part of your English class’s “Poetry and Short Stories” unit and you couldn’t wait for it to be over.

Taehyung was seated on your bed while you were seated at your desk. Taehyung looks up from his math homework, nodding at you.

“Yeah, I kinda liked it.” He says, giving you a small shrug as you shudder.

“It was creepy!”

Taehyung laughs at your expression, your face showing that you were totally repulsed that he slightly enjoyed the supernatural short story that was required to be read in every 7th grade class.

“Just a little bit,” he responds as he looks down at his homework, “I bet you’re enjoying science right now though.”

Taehyung was 100% correct, you were loving science this week. This week’s unit was about space and that was something you held close to your heart. There was just something about the universe, galaxies, protostars, and planets that intrigued you to no limit. You wanted to be like Neil deGrasse Tyson and Carl Sagan, exploring the vast universe full of the unknown. Just last year it was announced that Pluto would no longer be considered a planet and just that, broke your heart to pieces; Taehyung was there to witness it. Your love for the little planet was undying, feeling as if it deserved much more appreciation just like Neptune and Jupiter. In your eyes, Pluto was something special.

“Yes, oh my gosh! We get to make a presentation of a planet of our choice, and I’m still picking Pluto. I don’t care what Mr. Peterson says.” You scoff, a determined look gracing your face as you turn back around in your seat.

In that very moment, in Taehyung’s eyes, you were something special.

Graduation had finally fallen upon you. After days of graduation practice, you were finally here; sitting in the risers, that was placed on the fifty-yard line of the football field, clothed in your graduation gown that possessed one of your school’s colors. The night had overtaken the sunny skies, leaving you and your fellow classmates and friends underneath the shining stars as well as the bright stadium lights your school used for all sorts of events.

Your parents were in the stands, most likely with Taehyung’s family, along with other parents and family members of graduating high school seniors with their phones and cameras taking pictures to capture this once in a lifetime moment.

You didn’t graduate a valedictorian or salutatorian, but at least you made it until the end. It may pain some to hear it but grades aren’t everything. Despite getting kids into higher level colleges, grades don’t and can’t define a person, you learned that the hard way. High school’s about learning about yourself and the people you surround yourself with. Are they real friends? Do they talk about you behind your back? To you, it’s about exploration, finding the people who fit you well and help you shine brighter like the stars, and hopefully avoiding space debris that just get in the way.

Taehyung’s seated a few rows above you with only a few people separating the two of you, meaning you’re still able to make faces at each other, winking and scrunching your noses while the ceremony proceeds.

He looks great, handsome even. Dark locks trimmed just for this special event, since his mom made him. His bright eyes are shining even brighter with the reflection of the stadium lights as you peer up to look at him.

Seeing him like this, you realize how grown up he looks. Despite only being eighteen, the Kim Taehyung sitting a few seats away from you definitely does not look like the Kim Taehyung you met in 3rd grade. That Taehyung you met years ago is still somewhat the same as the Taehyung now, but just older, more mature–not mature, but more. It makes you realize how time flies, because it literally just seemed like yesterday where Taehyung first moved in a couple houses down from yours. Your neighborhood was full of elderly people, so when you found out a kid your age had just moved into town, you were ecstatic. Ecstatic to the point where you bugged your mother to take you to meet your new neighbors.

You smile to yourself as you look away, eyes reaching the stars that you were always fond of.

This was a moment you hoped you would remember forever.

“I felt like gouging my eyes out.”

Taehyung’s eyes roll at your complaint. You just came out of your physics class with Mr. Garcia’s lecture picking at your brains during the entire hour and a half. You and Jungkook (the only person you knew in that class) walked out looking as if your souls had left your body; even though that was exactly what happened. The two of you part ways with a tired wave as he had another class to attend.

Taehyung had been waiting for you since his class finished a few minutes before yours. He was nose deep into a book when you find him sitting on a bench just outside your building. His bright blue hair made him easy to spot anywhere. He made you dye his hair before the semester started, insisting on trying a brand new look.

Before the two of you graduated high school, you’d done college applications. You’d gotten into one of your dream colleges, opening the acceptance letter in front of Taehyung and your parents. Taehyung on the other hand, didn’t tell you what college he got into until after the graduation ceremony. It led to you punching his arm while exuding tears of happiness. Now, at the age of 21, you’re spending your time attending classes, studying for exams, while downing cups of coffee during breaks with your best friend.

“Seriously ___, your fault for wanting to be an astrophysics major.” Taehyung scoffs, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you head off to one of the coffee shops you and Taehyung frequent the most. Fortunately it was close, just a couple blocks away.

Smacking his arm away, you frown. “You say that every single time.”

“I’m just stating facts.” Taehyung shrugs, wrapping an arm around you again, and this time you don’t fight it.

Your own arm wraps around his waist, gripping onto a part of his coat. Taehyung, even though you didn’t want to admit it to anyone else but yourself, made you feel safe. Whenever he’d scoop you up into his arms for a hug, or just had his arm around you as you two walked down the street, it made you feel loved. Knowing that someone cares in this world full of fortunate and unfortunate events, is one of the greatest feelings in this world.

“I wish I was still in astrology 101 or 102, learning about the stars, black holes, and the Milky Way,” You say, grinning cheekily at the man beside you. “—not the chocolate.”

“I literally wasn’t even going to say that.”

“Liar.” You snort, nudging his side with your elbow. The two of you have reached your destination, ready for caffeine that you’re desperate for. Taehyung’s arm has left your shoulder, a certain warmth departing with him, as he opens the door for you like the gentleman he’s always been.

“What do you want?” He asks as you both reach the cashier and glass display case showing an ever so wonderful variety of pastries to eat with an already amazing cup of coffee.

Peering through the glass you see some newly added goods, alongside the usual but you already have your order in mind.

“I’ll have a macchiato and some madeleines please,” You say to the woman manning the cashier with a soft smile, while taking out your wallet from the small pocket of your backpack. Taehyung’s hand stops you, handing his own credit card to the lady who grins cheekily at the two of you. She was around maybe thirty years old.

“Tae—”

“And I’ll have a hot chocolate please.” Taehyung’s lips are pursed, nodding his head as she repeats your order.

“You guys are a really cute couple by the way,” She smiles, handing Taehyung back his card along with the receipt while you’re left standing there staring at him with wide eyes as he thanks her for the compliment.

At the age of 24, you’d think you would have plenty of things figured out. You don’t.

But at this age, you’ve learned that things really aren’t constant in the world, and that everything’s prone to change. Although somehow, there’s one thing in your life that hasn’t really changed.

“Tae, where are we going?” You whine, head leaning on the car window. Taehyung had just picked you up from work, a long day of work, and all you wanted to do was go home.

You and Taehyung had been dating for awhile now, after he admitted his long time feelings for you when he took you to his studio and painted you your favorite planet in the Milky Way. His feelings for you were returned, having loved him ever since you were kids as well. Now, he spends most of his time at your apartment as if you two shared it; not like he didn’t do that before already.

“___, you’ve asked me that 5 times already and I told you that it’s a secret.” He says, turning his head towards you for a moment before looking back on the road. You don’t see it, but he’s sporting a small smile on his face. Taehyung’s been waiting to show you this secret of his for quite some time.

Your head isn’t leaning on the window anymore as you recognize where you’re headed to. “Wait, we’re going to your studio?” The road to Taehyung’s art studio is one that isn’t too familiar but isn’t unknown as well.

After a few more minutes of driving and parallel parking (which actually doesn’t take Taehyung long to do it) you’re already standing in his studio, gazing at his works of art.

“Tae, these are incredible.”

While you’re gaping at his paintings, Taehyung’s laughing at your reaction to his creations. This is the first time in a long time you’ve visited his studio, and the first time in a long time that he’s shared his pieces with you. While you’re studying about outer space and the secrets of the universe, Taehyung’s in his studio painting his heart out whenever he wasn’t busy.

Whenever he was in the mood to paint, he’d enter this zone, totally blocking out anything and everything, letting his passion for the arts take over. Sometimes when he’d pick you up to have a cup of coffee or when he’d come over to have dinner at your apartment, he’d have paint marks all over his hands and occasionally his face.

Like you with your science idols, Taehyung admired plenty of incredible artists who worked with various mediums like, Claude Monet, Keith Haring, and especially Vincent Van Gogh. Taehyung had this affinity for Van Gogh’s artworks that even he couldn’t fully explain why he loved them so much.

“Wait until you see this,” Taehyung says, reaching towards one of the canvases he had stacked and leaning on the side of his wall.

You’re so immersed into some of his other paintings you don’t realize he’s right beside you, ready to reveal one of his latest pieces. Taehyung loved to experiment with different mediums, always trying to find his niche. You noticed even though he painted a variety of things, he loved to paint scenery. You could feel yourself getting absorbed into his creations full of lush greens and calming sunsets, fluffy clouds, and sometimes quite the opposite.

“___,” Taehyung nudges you, poking your cheek to get your attention and it definitely works. You’re turning your head, eyes catching a painting of Pluto that looks exactly like the real deal, as if you’re seeing the planet with your own eyes.

“I love you ___. As much as you love this little planet and as many light years it would take to reach other universes out there.”

#bangtanhq #bangtanscenery #thekimlinenet #vantaenet #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts

304 notes · View notes

willow-salix · 4 years

Text

This fic came about after a hilarious conversation with my fellow co-conspiritors @hodgehegposts @hedwigstalons @eirabach and @olliepig. I blame you all for the fact that I wrote this at stupid o'clock in the morning. Bitches!

“Hi, Ebony, how’s the coffin this morning?”

Selene scowled over her coffee cup at the annoying beast that was Gordon. “Choose your words wisely, fish boy, I’ve barely had a sip yet.”

“Sorry, don’t get your fangs in a twist.”

Her eyes narrowed warningly and he wisely retreated. She nodded in satisfaction and took a long sip. Boys are weird, she had always known this. But couldn't he have picked a better time than seven thirty in the morning? Apparently not.

She had forgotten about his strange morning greeting by the time she’d had her second coffee and was so deeply engrossed in a dice reading that she didn’t notice Alan sneaking in until it was too late.

“So, when you and John get married, are you going to be a Tracy?”

“Huh?” she glanced up, having caught around ten percent of what he had said. “What was that, bub?”

“I asked if you were going to become a Tracy when you marry John…” he had moved closer to catch her attention but now he had taken a step back, “or are you going to stay as a Raven-Way?” He ran before she could fully take in what he had said, or throw something at him.

“Raven-what? What is going on with these idiots today?”

“Not a clue,” Virgil shrugged.

“Well you’re no help,” she huffed, taking a picture of her dice spread and tucking them back in their bag, there was no way she’d be able to concentrate now that they had weirded her out.

She found them both in the lounge reading something on a tablet and laughing. They looked innocent enough but she was wise to their ways and wasn't fooled for a second.

“Right, I want to know what the hell is going on, right now,” she had crossed her arms, her foot was tapping in annoyance and a wise man would recognise the signs and tread delicately. The boys were not wise, Gordon does not possess the ability to be delicate. Neither, it seems, did Alan.

“Nothing is going on,” Gordon promised, all wide eyed innocence.

“Don’t bullshit me boy.”

“All we asked was if you were keeping your own name. What’s wrong, was your morning blood not warm enough?”

“I’m a witch, not a vampire, dumb ass, surely you know that”?

“Are you in love with Draco?” Alan asked slyly.

“Draco?” she was instantly distracted, having a love of all things classic Harry Potter. “You know I’m a Draco fan, it was all his parent’s fault, he was a good boy under all that sass and bad parenting.”

“Maybe John will change his name to Draco as a wedding present,” Gordon grinned. "That would be perfect."

Selene’s narrowed eyes darted in his direction. It was a look that should have shrivelled him on the spot, but Gordon was immune, he was puffed up with some secret knowledge, some joke that she was not part of and it was pissing her off.

“She got up on the wrong side of the coffin this morning, didn’t she?” Gordon side whispered to Alan who sniggered.

“There is no coffin!” Selene screamed, getting thoroughly fed up. She turned on her heel and stomped out of the room before she gave in to the urge to kick one of them. Sure, she’d regret it later, because no matter how doofy and annoying they were, she did love them, but oh, it would be so satisfying.

There was only one person that could help her at that moment, the all knowing, all seeing one that she happened to call the love of her life.

“Johhhhn,” she whined the second his hologram popped up. “Your shitty little brothers are picking on me again.”

Ahh there was that eye roll that they all knew and secretly dreaded seeing.

“What have they done now?” he sounded slightly distracted but that wasn't unusual and she didn't hold it against him.

“They keep being weird and saying strange things to me that sound like insults but are really just stupid and I don’t understand it and they are pissing me off,” she ranted without taking a breath.

It took John a second to mentally rewind the conversation enough for him to pick through her words in order to properly respond.

“They’re saying weird things? That’s not that unusual.”

“I know that! And if it was their usual kind of weird I wouldn’t be bothered.”

“What are they saying?”

“You have the same tone a mum does when one child is telling tales on another,” she accused.

“No, I don’t, this is my normal tone.”

“So your normal tone is downtrodden soccer mum?”

“What did they say?” he asked again, ignoring her comment as he did almost all of the things she said.

Selene flopped back against the pillows on his side of the bed, having hidden in the bedroom to bitch about his brothers. She placed her comm down on the bedside table and reached for...yep, she had one of his planets again. She had bought him a small model of the solar system, which he loved, but each planet was made from a different crystal, which she loved. Jupiter was a tigers eye, Venus was an amethyst, Earth a pretty jade and so on. This time she had snagged the small red topaz that was Mercury and was rolling it between her fingers.

“First it was Gordon-”

“Naturally.”

“He said something about my coffin and fangs and he called me Ebony.”

John frowned. "That is weird. And not just Gordon weird. What else did they say?”

“Alan asked if I was going to take the Tracy name when we get married-”

“Well we haven’t discussed it but it would but up to you obviously, you have built a reputation off your name after all.”

Selene smiled. There were no outdated marriage ideas for her man. That was one of the reasons she'd changed her mind about getting married, the fact that he wanted it as a commitment for them, not as a sign of ownership where she changed her name to his and gave up part of her identity.

“You’re amazing, I love you.”

“I love you too," he answered. He had no idea why she suddenly felt the need to say it but he wasn't going to complain. "But getting back to the original conversation, surely that kind of question wasn’t too strange?”

“No, the strange part was when he asked if I was keeping my maiden name of Raven-Way.”

John blinked. “Your what now?”

“Exactly. So I tracked them down and asked them what the fuck was going on-”

“Naturally.”

“There’s that tone again, babe.”

“There is no tone, you are imagining the tone, continue.”

“They asked if I loved Draco and suggested that you change your name as a wedding present. They also asked if my blood was too cold this morning.”

“They're up to something.”

“I know! Now find out what it is, that’s your job after all.”

“It’s actually not, I have a rather more important job than finding out everything they are doing.”

“They are your brothers, therefore it’s your job.”

John sighed the put upon sigh of the big brother that really wanted some peace and quiet.

“I’ll get back to you.”

“Thank you.”

“And make sure you put Mercury back before Armstrong runs off with it again because you’ve left it on the bed.”

“That only happened three times…” his eyebrow raised. “Alright, five at the most. I’ll put it back, OK?” She plopped it gently back into its little holder close to the center and the large citrine that was the sun. “There, it’s back.”

“Thank you. I won’t be long.”

Selene had only managed to read two pages of her book before he was back.

“I think I’ve found the origins of their comments.”

“You have? Where? What is it? Did they tell you? Did they confess?”

“My tablet’s in my drawer, I sent the link there.”

"The link? Was it on the Internet? Are you telling me I could have just googled it?"

"You could, yes."

Confused but also very curious she retrieved the tablet and easily bypassed his passwords and security, they had no secrets, and located the link.

“What the heck is this? You know I’m not really a fan of fan fiction.”

“Just read it, I’ll wait.”

***

“Are you alright?”

Selene stared dumbly at the screen, her mouth opening and shutting in horror.

“Sel?”

Her goldfish out of water impression continued.

“Selene? Are you broken?” She'd been staring into space for more than five minutes, having read the abomination, the utter abuse of the English language and anything that was considered good literature.

“I’ll kill them,” Selene growled, breaking her silence. John breathed a sigh of relief, his woman was a little on the dramatic side but he hadn’t meant to fry her brain.

“Please don’t, can you be content to just hurt them a little.”

“Fine, but first I have to do something very important, I’ll see you later at dinner.”

“Okay, but are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yep, I’m fine,” she insisted as she swiped her comm off the side, slung it around her neck and left the room.

John’s hologram bounced along with her as she stalked down the halls to the lounge.

“Hey, Eb, what’s up?” Alan greeted her, earning himself a very rude hand gesture as she passed by without a word. John’s hologram raised the pointy finger of doom at him in warning, his expression clearly saying ‘look what you two have done, look what I’m dealing with now, sleep with one eye open’.

Selene went straight to the hangars and into her car.

“Where are you going?” John asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“You’ll see when I get back.”

***

“Ow!” Gordon yelped as he suddenly found himself the recipient of a smack around the back of his head from John as he passed behind the couch.

John's hand lifted to give Alan the same treatment but the youngest Tracy was quicker and used a pillow as a shield.

“What were you two thinking? Do you have any idea how insulted she is? I’m going to be talking her down for a week.”

“Lighten up,” Gordon huffed, still rubbing the back of his head.

“Yeah, it was just a joke,” Alan added in their defense. “We didn’t know she’d get insulted by it, we thought she’d laugh.”

“Did you, did you really?” John was not convinced.

“She’s going to kill us, isn’t she?” Alan asked, suddenly looking terrified.

“Probably, not that I’d blame her.”

“Where is she anyway?”

“I’ve no idea, she turned her comm off when she reached the mainland.”

“What would she be doing there?” Gordon pondered.

“Stocking up on knives?” Alan shuddered.

“Eh, I’m not too worried, you know she loves us, we’ll just say sorry and it’ll be fine.”

“What was that?” Alan jumped, hearing voices in the hall. “I think she's back.”

All three of them fell silent, leaning closer, straining their ears to hear the conversation.

“Honestly, I love it, it’s great,” Scott assured her.

“You promise? I don’t look weird? I’m still not sure about it, I don’t really feel like me yet.”

“I promise, you look great.”

“Is he home?”

“Got back about ten minutes ago, want me to get him?”

“Yes please.”

John was already on his feet before Scott entered the lounge, pausing to exchange a rather bemusing high five with Scott as his eldest brother tagged himself out of the situation.

John had no idea what to expect, in fact his mind had been conjuring up all sort of weird and not so wonderful scenarios of things that could greet him when she got home. Thankfully, out of all the things he had imagined, this was nowhere near as bad.

He stopped dead, his eyes taking in the sight before him.

“Wow, that’s different.”

“Good different or bad different?” she asked, tucking her hair behind one ear in the most self conscious gesture John had ever seen from her.

“Good different, not that you looked bad before,” he hurried to add, worried that she might still be pissed off.

“You sure?”

“I’m very sure,” he promised her. “Come here, let me see properly.”

She stepped closer allowing him to study her from all angles. Her hair had had a trim, losing about an inch and tidying up the slightly feathery layers that had been growing out, giving it a sleeker and more grown up look. It flowed down over her shoulders in a silken wave, as straight as a ruler. But most surprising of all was the colour. Her hair was now a deep, dark plum colour all over, the black with lilac streaks a thing of the past.

“I figured I needed a change, you know.”

“You didn’t have to do this, not because of those idiots.” His fingers tunneled into the soft strands, feeling the same heavy weight that he was used to as well as the smooth softness. He twirled a small section around his finger, caressing it with his thumb. He liked it, it suited her.

She shrugged. “I know I was annoyed at first but now I kinda like it. I’ve had that hair for a long time, I guess it was a bit of a statement at first, it made me feel more like me, like I was being true to myself and I just never had the guts to change it after that.”

“You didn’t have the guts? I find that hard to believe.”

“I just worried that if the hair went, I’d lose a little part of myself too, the part that I’ve been fighting for for a long time. I felt like I finally loved myself, the hair was part of that.”

“So why change it? Not that I don't like it, it's lovely, it's very you. It suits you.”

“Because I realised something today and that knowledge let me know that it was time to leave the comfort blanket behind, because I have something more important than hair colour.”

“You do?”

“Yep,” she caught his free hand and tugged him closer, lifting her head for a kiss. “I’ve got you and I know you’ll love me enough for the both of us if I ever have a wobble.”

“I can definitely do that," he smiled, unable to resist stealing another quick kiss. It was going to take some getting used to, he'd never known her with any other colour hair, but it wouldn't be a hardship, she looked as lovely as ever to him, in fact, if pushed he'd say even more beautiful than she had before, something he wouldn't have believed was even possible.

“Good.”

“So, in a roundabout way, Gordon and Alan actually did something good?”

“Yes, I’ll admit that a little good did come out of it.”

“So you’ll go and put them out of their misery?”

“Hell no, I’m gonna make the little shits suffer for at least a week. How dare they compare me to Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way.”

#john tracy #selene tempest #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirdsarego #my immortal

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izaswritings · 4 years

Text

all that’s left in the world | chapter six

Title: all that’s left in the world—

Synopsis: —is me.

Neku’s been shot and Shibuya is threatening to go the same way as Shinjuku, but just because the first Game is over doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten how to play.

Or: Neku deals with a nightmare city and his most annoying (and mathematical) partner yet; Shiki and Joshua commit an escalating number of illegal moves, Beat and Eri hunt down a stray Reaper, and Rhyme watches and waits for the counter-attack. Shibuya refuses to go down easy.

Fandom: The World Ends With You | TWEWY

Warnings: cursing, implied death/erasure via Inversion; mentions of gender dysphoria and a variation of body dysphoria/dissociation. Nothing very graphic, but be warned!

AO3 Link is here!

Previous chapters are here!

part six: rhyme

It’s funny, Rhyme thinks, how quickly life can change in a day.

There’s a saying about that, they’re sure of it— but it’s gone, at the moment, all the words and quips and sayings gone kind of quiet in their head. It’s hard to think positive at a time like this. Neku’s gone and Beat’s in the nightmare city (and shaking, Rhyme thinks, Beat was shaking and they’ve never seen—they’ve never—

Or have they? It’s like a dream, maybe, but they can almost recall it: their brother bowed over and trembling, fingers curled tight around their pin, his eyes red. They’d hated it. They’d hated all of it. Somewhere in the Noise and non-being, something in Rhyme had seen their brother cry and wanted to scream.)

But! That’s not important right now. Rhyme has their job, and Beat has his; besides, finding Neku is probably the quickest way to making him feel better, right? So this works. Beat gets to find Neku and beat (hah) the girl that did this, and Rhyme…

Rhyme has their own job to do.

They’re still in Shibuya, for the moment, elbowing their way through the streets, trying to get through the crowd. They left Beat behind maybe thirty minutes ago, and they’ve been running ever since. They always forget—and yet, also, are always aware—of just how big this city is. Shibuya is so much. There are so many people, and so many roads, and…

Patience is a virtue—Rhyme knows that better than anyone! But for the second time in the hour they find themself stalled by a crowd, and they slow, tapping their fingers in a restless beat against their leg, a tempo one-two-three. They’ve been to Mr. Hanekoma’s cafe a few times, enough to know the way by heart; they should have arrived by now. But the crowds are heavy, and all the roads on the way are full. Molco is a mess of people. Is someone having a sale?

Rhyme sighs, slumping a little. Beat could have skateboarded through; Neku shoved and Shiki slipped by… but Rhyme is too small, and some part of them is convinced they’re smaller still. A nearby stranger draws too close, and Rhyme skitters back before they can think better of it—then stops mid-retreat, makes a face, and sighs again.

They put a hand to their pocket, almost self-conscious, fingering at the pin. It’s smooth under their hands, warm. Soothing. Rhyme rubs their finger across the blank face and draws themself up tall. Okay. No crowds. Long way around it is.

Slow and steady wins the race, Rhyme reminds themself. What’s another way to the cafe… Center Street, the Scramble, then through the Department Store?

They track it in their head. It could work. They back away and turn to run.

It’s been ages since Rhyme was in a Game, since they’ve raced across a city with time ticking down around them—but this thrill is all the same, the fear and the rush of breath in their lungs helplessly familiar. Some things feel odd: the thud of their feet on the ground, the breathing, the being—but the more they run, the more settled they feel. Rhyme is still here. They are still them.

Center Street down, and turning into the Scramble—they take one look at the size of that crowd and edge around it. They keep having to rub at their arm to stay grounded. They miss Beat. It’s always easier to navigate crowds with their brother there, tall and loud and larger than life, leading the way through like there’s nothing to fear.

Without him, the crowd is crushing, and Rhyme feels small, displaced, settled wrong in their skin. Smaller than they should be. Distantly, they wonder: is this how Shiki felt, in the Game? Like her skin never fit quite right? Like every reminder of her reflection was a sickening surprise?

Rhyme is intimately aware of that feeling; Shiki is too, they know, even before that whole mess with Eri and the Game. But then… mm, well, maybe not. Shiki and Rhyme have a lot in common, especially with the gender thing, but on second thought this feeling isn’t quite the same at all. It’s more like floating away—like being elsewhere. Like the memory of being small and helpless is overlapping on this happy present, and Rhyme keeps forgetting which one they’re living through.

Rhyme bites their lip, hard, and reaches for the pin again. It’s grounding, to have it in their hand. The echoes all settle, quieter than before. They take another deep breath and push determinedly onward. Okay. Okay! They can do this.

Wildkat café, survivor, and then… something. Rhyme isn’t quite sure what they need to do when they find the girl, but that’s neither here nor there, and Rhyme puts it out of mind, slipping around the sidewalk and down towards the Department Store. After all, they haven’t even found the Shinjuku survivor yet! There’s no use getting in over their head.

Besides, all things considered, there’s probably not much Rhyme can do. Maybe call Mr. Hanekoma? Hopefully the survivor is okay; Rhyme doesn’t know much first aid. Everyone always says hindsight is 20/20. Hmm, though, Rhyme might still have some chocolate in their pockets to share, if that helps at all…

Something to think about.

They round the corner, heading up Cat Street and nearing the café, and slow a bit, leaning over their knees, breathing hard. Made it. There’s the café, all boarded up and closed, and there’s the street, leading on out…

Somewhere near here, right? Though, if she’s coming from Shinjuku… that’s a lot of ground to cover. Hmm.

Rhyme rocks on their heels and beelines for a bystander. A college teen with a brown bob cut and a piercing in his ear, Jupiter of the Monkey clothes. He reminds them of Neku, a little, and for that they give him their best smile. “Hi! Sorry to bother you, but…”

“Oh, um, it’s no problem.” He tilts his head. “What’s up, kid?”

“I’m meeting a friend from Shinjuku, and she said she’d meet me around here… but I don’t really know the area. Is there a way to Shinjuku from here by the streets? I’m hoping to run into her!”

The teen blinks. His brow furrows. “Like, Akihabara? That’s a bit far, you might need…”

“What?” Rhyme frowns. “No, Shinjuku!”

“Shin…”

“The Tokyo district.” Rhyme is starting to get alarmed, now. “It’s… it’s just up north?”

He’s quiet. Then he shakes his head. “Sorry, kid, I missed that. What did you say?”

“I…” Something has gone quiet in them. Rhyme steps back. “N-never mind. Sorry. Um, thanks for your help!”

“Wait, but—”

Rhyme backs off and scatters to the streets. The teen is lost behind them. They feel unsettled, shaky—small, again. So that was… okay. Okay. Mr. Hanekoma had said something bad had happened to Shinjuku; it makes sense, given UG logic, that that means Shinjuku is now a… non-thing. It makes sense.

But still. Rhyme swallows hard. All those people… the whole city… are they just—gone? From everyone’s memories, everyone’s lives? Rhyme has an aunt in Shinjuku. If they call their mom, and ask—is their aunt still…?

They are still asking themself this, still panicking, when they turn a corner on the Shibuya city limits and see a flicker of a black wing.

Something in Rhyme’s heart goes still.

They don’t mean to stop, or stare, but for a moment it all feels just so far away. The crowds and the talking and the city—and the wings, wavering and thin as gossamer, the finest flickers in the sunlight.

And then they realize someone’s staring back.

“Oh, hey. Skulls Jr, right?” The man is tall, lanky and thin and sharp in a way that makes Rhyme tilt up their head and take notice. He has a lollipop, bright red and shiny, in one hand; beside him a smaller woman looks down at Rhyme with a sullen expression, pink hair cut short and her shirt frilling like a skirt, kept neat by a corset. “Fancy seeing you around here.”

Rhyme tilts their head further, considering; their eyes widen. Oh. Oh! “You’re Reapers, right?” they check, bobbing their head. “Beat mentioned you. How you doing?”

Pause. The two exchange glances. They look a little surprised. Why? Did they think Rhyme wouldn’t know them? Or… that Rhyme would react differently, maybe?

Oh, well. Not much Rhyme can do about the expectations of others, as the saying goes.

“We’re doing just fine.” The man spins the lollipop through his fingers, head tilted, eyes watchful. “You sure seem in a hurry, though. Got somewhere to be?”

Hm.

Rhyme stops. They link their hands behind their back and look the two up and down, the man with his lazy grin and the woman with her narrow stare. They think about it. The stories their brother and Neku cobbled together—Kariya and Uzuki, right? —and who these two are and the things they did. They erased Rhyme, that first week. They tried to help Beat and Neku, sort of, in the last one. They tried to keep their word.

“Um, hello?” The woman—Uzuki, probably, definitely, right? —is saying, fingers snapping in front of Rhyme’s face. Rhyme blinks at her. Nods. Makes a choice.

“Neku got shot,” they say, seriously, and take note of the way both of the Reapers go still. Good reaction? Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. “A Reaper called Coco. Do you know her?”

“What!” Uzuki says, but it’s Kariya who Rhyme watches—he’s paused, recalibrated, and now he’s watching Rhyme back with sharp eyes.

“Coco, huh?” He sticks the lollypop in his mouth and shrugs. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Hmmmm. Rhyme sighs. “I don’t really know much beyond that. Sorry!”

“Oh?” His head tilts. “So what are you doing?”

“Trying to find the survivor of Shinjuku,” Rhyme explains, and when they both go stiff, blinks. “Oh. You didn’t know?”

“Survivor?” Kariya hisses, the first visible reaction that feels genuine. Uzuki’s eyes are wide. “What happened to Shinjuku?”

“That shockwave,” Uzuki mutters, from beside him. “Kariya, you don’t think…!”

“It happened only a bit ago,” Rhyme explains, watching them. “Um, well, I don’t know what happened, but… the person I’m trying to find, I think she’s involved. She’s somewhere between the Cat Street area and Shinjuku, but…” They trail off, gauging the looks on Kariya and Uzuki’s faces, and slump. “You don’t know anything, huh.”

“Sorry, kid. This is the first we’ve heard of it.” Kariya shakes his head. “Shinjuku. Shit. It’s gone?”

“Um, that’s what it sounded like, anyway.” Rhyme tilts their head. That teenager on the street, the way the words had just slid off him, like Shinjuku itself—its name, its reality—was being rejected by all the world. “I think it’s because of this thing called ‘Inversion?’”

Rhyme looks up. Uzuki is frowning, but Kariya has gone pale. “Oh. Is it that bad?”

“What?” Uzuki’s eyes snap to the side and then narrow. “Kariya?”

“…It’s impossible. It shouldn’t be—” He cuts himself off. “You’re sure?”

“Mm, pretty sure.” Rhyme bobs their head. “Why, what is it?”

“Bad news.” He bites at the lollypop stem and then shakes his head, laughing quietly. “Very bad news.”

Uzuki looks peeved. “Are you going to give an actual answer or just keep being cryptic?”

“Slow down, Uzuki. This isn’t exactly easy info. Pretty sure it’s classified six ways to Sunday, but hey, if it’s already happening…” He sighs, and when he speaks again, he’s addressing Rhyme directly. “It’s a distortion in the rules of the world. Something’s unbalanced the whole system and sent it crashing down. The city, everything it stands for, everyone who lives and breathes and beats with it…” His lips thin. He snaps his fingers.

“…the fuck?” Uzuki says, sounding stunned.

Rhyme stares off into the direction of the city, feeling hollowed. “That’s awful,” they whisper. “What could do something like that?”

“Inversions usually start in the UG. My guess is whatever happened, it started there. Then it just started bleeding over to everywhere else.”

Rhyme frowns a little at that. “In the UG… I wonder what it was.” It must have been big, to unstable the whole city. It must have been terrible. They wonder if Coco had a hand in that, too. It’s a little uncharitable to think, but…

Neku.

As Rhyme sits in silence, Kariya and Uzuki exchange looks. Uzuki grips her hair. “The hell is happening?” she says in a fierce whisper. “First the Games last month… and now this!? Argh, the brass never tells us anything!”

“Oh, I think that’s because the Composer left,” Rhyme admits, and watches with mild alarm when they both choke. “Are you okay?”

“The fuck do you mean, the Composer left?” Uzuki snaps, and then a weird look crosses her face. Her expression darkens. “And how do you know about it!? You aren’t even part of the UG! Ugh, this is a disgrace!”

Rhyme flaps a hand at them. “Sorry! I’m sure it’s not that… just, Mr. Hanekoma mentioned he couldn’t leave the city because Joshua’s gone, so I thought…” They trail off again. The words don’t seem to be computing. Rhyme pauses. “Um.”

Kariya has his hand up. “Are you saying—you know who the Composer is? His RG form?”

Uzuki looks like she might be dying inside. Rhyme feels kind of bad for them. It is a bad look, huh? “Eh… well… I think he tried to get Neku to shoot him. And Neku didn’t. And then told us. I, I haven’t met him personally, though…” They scratch at their cheek. “Sorry.”

“Phones did— nope, never mind, don’t want to know.” Kariya slashes his hand through the air. “Not important right now. The Composer’s gone?”

“A lot’s happening.” Rhyme considers them, then nods. “I’m looking for the Shinjuku survivor. Beat, he’s looking for this Reaper girl, Coco…” They chew on their lip. “Are you sure you don’t know anything about her?”

Uzuki and Kariya exchange looks again. “Later,” Kariya says, and at Uzuki’s nod, turns back to Rhyme. “No, but we can find out. Coco, was it? Leave it to us.”

Rhyme smiles. “Thanks!” They think about it. “Um, if you want to know more, though… Mr. Hanekoma, he runs the Wildkat café on this street. He’s not there right now, but maybe later? And he knows more about what’s going on than I do.” Rhyme offers the two Reapers a smile. “He’s trying to keep Shibuya safe too. He might know a place you can start.”

“More names I don’t know, hmm?” But Kariya is grinning. “Well. Better informed late than never, I guess. Sure, we’ll stick around. Might as well get some foot in the door here, given the stakes.”

“Ugh.” Uzuki looks away. “Honestly. Why are Reapers always the last to know?” She eyes Rhyme. “But I guess we know now.”

“What she means to say is, thanks for the info.”

“Like hell I did! Thanking even a former Player—ugh.”

Rhyme giggles, unable to help it. There’s so much character to them, it’s rather funny. It’s hard to believe these people erased Rhyme.

Maybe Rhyme should invite them along—ask for these Reapers’ help, their protection and their powers. But the fact remains they did erase Rhyme, and also if Beat found out he would freak, and… and its better this way, Rhyme thinks. They aren’t one to hold grudges. But though Rhyme might believe in forgetting the past, that’s not the same as forgiving it, is it?

This is okay. This is just fine.

So Rhyme nods at them one last time and turns away, ready to keep going. There’s no time to waste on pleasantries, so they don’t bother—but when Kariya holds out his hand, a twinge of power beckons, and bids them to stop. Reluctantly, Rhyme looks back.

He tilts his head at them, something knowing lingering wry in the curl of his lips. “Hey, Skulls Jr. One last thing.” He pauses. Rhyme waits. “Your eyes keep flickering. I don’t suppose you’re looking at our wings?”

Rhyme hesitates. “Is… is that a bad thing?”

Uzuki is still. But Kariya smiles. “…No.” His hand draws back, tosses forward—something glints in the air, and Rhyme catches it without thinking. Then they blink. “Just double-checking. Hey, it might be useless for you, but if not…” He shrugs. “Put it to good use, yeah?”

Rhyme studies it. It’s a pin—bright gold, with a skull and serrated edge like a key. “What is it?”

“A Keypin. Highest level, too. If you can see the wings, still… who knows if there’s walls about out there, but just in case, this baby should get you through.” He grins at Rhyme’s cautious look. “I like to cover all my bases. This survivor is important, right? Then it’s in my best interest that you find her.” He raises an eyebrow. “Just, ah… keep this loan on the downlow, you hear?”

Rhyme considers him. Then they smile back. “Sure, no problem.”

They tuck it away in their pocket, rocking on their heels, watching the city. The crowds, the murmur, the sunlight bright in the air. But it feels stranger, now. Like even Shibuya is starting to hold its breath.

Rhyme watches the sky for a long moment. It remains blank and blue. They smile, relieved and not sure why, and turn away, back to the road ahead. “Goodbye,” they call back. “And good luck!”

Kariya waves. Uzuki calls out, “Don’t die again, brat.”

It’s a rude thing to say, probably, but something about it makes Rhyme laugh, instead. Their heart feels a little lighter. They smile at the Reapers one last time, and then take off towards Shinjuku.

And for a moment—for an instant—in the echo of their footfalls and the rasp of their breaths—there is a ripple in the air. As they slip away from Cat Street into the unknown, Rhyme closes their eyes and hears a distant call, distorted and thin.

Pleas — hel — me—

“I’m coming,” Rhyme promises between breaths. “I’m coming for you. I promise!”

And they run.

#twewy #the world ends with you #raimu bito #rhyme twewy #fic: all that's left in the world #twewy fic #koki kariya #uzuki yashiro #iza fanfic

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cabinofimagines · 5 years

Text

This (Infinity) -Connor xReader.

A/N: My best friend loves Connor. That’s it, that’s the post -Danny. P.S. Tumblr won’t let me separate the text like I want so I’m trying something new, hope it works. <3

This is a Song-Fic! which in case you didn’t know, are my favorite thing to do, even if I’ve never actually done it lmaoo but I thought it was good to start with this one. The song is Infinity by AJR and you should check it out cause it’s the cutest.

Request: Yo, guys! I actually don't know how to ask this lmao. First of all, I am a big fan of all of you, and I love your work but I would adore you for forever if you wrote anything about Connor Stoll... A fic, imagine, head canon WHATEVER. This fandom always focuses a lot on the 7, Nico, Reyna and Will but there are sooooo many other characters to explore and this boy (Connor) needs love. It obvsly doesn't have to be rn, but pleaaaaaaase 😭❤️

Words: 1,213

Warnings: Nothing but it might be cheesy, sorry I got carried away blame the song for that. Blame me for the mistakes tho, I did not proofread or will I ever proofread these things, sorry-not-sorry.

Was it all in my head? In an empty bed And I told you that I need you Baby, can't you see I'm alone? Oh, oh

He just... gets you. There’s no way to put it into words, Connor has that and that’s it. If you’re angry he’ll give you space; if you’re upset he’ll give you comfort. Happy? He’ll make sure you stay that way as long as you can. Also, the feeling of trust between you two is the strongest of all. Which is ironic considering how much of a tricky little shit he tends to be. Not with you though. With you is like he’s still that kid you met when you had just arrived at camp.

It was stressing (to say the least) to date someone as problematic as Connor Stoll. Fair enough, you aren’t perfect. But at least you weren’t exploding things at the speed of light just for laughs, or stealing other people’s stuff, or playing pranks on Ares’ children... Why did you like him again?

I was lost in my feet On an empty street So I save your seat, infinity Forever figures 5 and 3 You know, oh oh

“Y/N” Connor hopped right next to you, he wasn’t exactly a touchy person but he was fidgety, so he’d always have a way to feel like he’s in contact with you even if he’s not exactly touching your body. Sometimes he’ll grace his fingertips on yours, or play with the laces on your hoodies, it was sort of endearing.

“Connor” You replied in the same tone, giving him a side-eye look, “What are you up to?”

“So... I’m starting college once this summer ends” He started, but you didn’t want to hear the rest.

You weren’t ready for this. You’ve been together since you were sixteen and now, What? Probably you’ll end up breaking up because having a relationship so far from the other will bring nothing but trouble. He was leaving to New Rome, for once deciding to be in a different school than his brother and thinking it’d had a whole new bunch of fascinating possibilities. It also had plenty of new people as well. And you. Just. Weren’t. Ready.

He had found a way around your heart and became vital to it, you’ve felt so alone before; like you were the third wheel of everything. Connor was the only person that made you feel like maybe, you weren’t meant to live your life like that, that you were worthy of having all the love and more.

So it was supposed to be you and him for a long, long time, not just a few years.

“Oh?” You mumbled, looking down at your feet. If this was it, you just waited for everything to end soon.

“Right. I just need to make sure of this, Y/N/N” Connor shifted in his place so he could face you, “and I know you still have one year left before you have to go too but, uh, Would you rather live close to school or downtown? Cause I could do both but I’d prefer if you tell me know so I can get a place you like and we don’t have to move later next year-”

“What?” You cut him off.

Cross my heart and hope to die Stick a needle in my eye My mama says to pick the best And you are it

“A place? To live together once you go to New Rome?” He insisted, then got strangely pale, hit by a sudden thought, “Oh gods, unless I misunderstood your plans for the future and weren’t trying to go to Camp Jupiter once you get old enough, oh shit. I’m so stupid, ignore that I said all that-”

“No, Connor that’s not what I meant,” You quickly tried to correct him, “I was trying to ask- uh well actually not an ask, well it is but- ugh, this is awkward”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” Connor messed with his hair in concern, “I wasn’t trying to pressure you into choosing today! I thought- It’s just that the other day you mentioned how cool it looked the University and how you were dreaming to study there so I thought you wanted to live with me too? Now that I say it out loud it makes no sense, wow, I’m an idiot...”

You let him ramble not because you thought he was right and needed an explanation but because you felt speechless. He wanted you there. Connor had seen his future and for him, it wasn’t over after all, it was still both of you, growing as tall and strong as before.

Was it hard to believe? Wear your heart on my sleeve And I'll hold you when you're lonely When you're cold cause you're the only girl for me

“So you’re not going to break up with me?”

That question was all it took for Connor to stop his speech and look at you like he couldn’t believe what you were saying.

“Breaking up? Why the Hades would I break up with you?”

“Heard long-distance relationships never last, all this time I took it to enjoy my last few days with you before it was over for us, cause you’re finally moving on...”

“Oh, Y/N” Connor huffed, “you’ve always been so dramatic.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You asked in disbelief.

“Why would I break up with you?” He repeated, “no but seriously, why? You’re the coolest demigod on earth. When I was little I was terrified of being separated from my brother y’know? And once we started dating I didn’t have a single nightmare about that anymore. You got my back and I take care of you too”

This. This is exactly why you love him. Blind trust and nothing but honesty on his voice. Sweet, loving words that revolved around you and held you away from the cold it gave you that lonely feeling from years back.

“I like you so much,” You were reaching for his hand, beaming.

“I love you,” His eyes turned gentle and the smirk changed into a soft expression, nothing but the vulnerability that he showed to no one but you, “you’re the only one for me.”

Cross my heart and hope to die Since you came into my life My mama says to pick the best And you are it

“So are you,” You replied, holding his hand firmly, tight against yours, “life is so much easier when you date a Hermes child, they can come in handy much more often than you’d think”

Connor laughed, pushing your shoulder with his teasingly.

“Oh, no, stop it!” He pretended to blush, “or you’ll make me believe you actually like to have me around”

“Gods forbid, no” You frowned, “my mom is very strict about what kind of boys I’m allowed to take home. Only the top of the top, best in their kind” You then leaned as if you were about to tell him a secret, “I think you’re it.”

Oh, Hey All our trouble's gone Like when we were young Take me back to where we all began Here we are again, like we should've been

“And what if Mom doesn’t think that way?” Connor followed the joke, always in for a laugh.

“Well if I can’t take you to her home it won’t make much difference, cause I’ll be living with you by then, close to the school so we can sleep five more minutes every morning before starting the day.”

“I‘d like that,” He closed the distance between you two, brushing your nose with his, “I’m gonna miss you for that whole first year though, gonna have to pay you a visit during the holidays...”

“Let’s make sure you get enough of me to take with you during the semester then...”

Wrapping your arms around his neck you kissed him and it was like going back to the beginning when you were kids falling in love for the first time, this was how it was supposed to be since then, like you should’ve been and were about to, for the rest of infinity.

Cross my heart and hope to die Since you came into my life My mama says to pick the best And you are it

-Danny :)

#Danny's writing #connor stoll xreader #pjo imagine #pjo writing

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thestudyfeels · 5 years

Text

100 Days of Sweat

Welcome to the official admission post for the 100 days of sweat challenge! *plays the conquer theme song and does a booty pop* This is a pretty long post, but has everything you need to start, so read on!

READING TIME: 6 minutes.

OoOh? What's that?

Thanks for coming out of the cave! In short, it's a consistency challenge to turn working out into a habit.

You've basically got to move your body for a 100 days straight. No slacking, no backing out!

Most take on this challenge personally, but I felt accountability would be great for those beginning with exercising & those who can't seem to keep their streak (cough, me).

Sounds fun! How do I join? Do I need to do a booty pop too?

Booty pops are appreciated. But here's how!

1. First things first, decide whether you'll be joining via IG, Discord or staying on Tumblr.

2. If using IG, reply to this post with your handle or (alternative) if you'd like, join Discord instead! For that, click here to join the server!

(NOTE: Those who joined via the first post I created regarding this needn't reply again! I've already added you to the list.)

3. Lastly, boost this! Reblog, get your followers to join! Drag your friend or sibling in! (already dragged my bestie into this in case no one joined in lmao)

Important PSA: yO, ANYONE can join! All my beginners and winners, young teens and old pals, drarry fans and johnlock shippers, team cold water AND hot water (sparing y'all because I stan working out more), EVERYONE!

Here's what I'll do:

I'm creating an IG group for those interested in staying fully committed. (Pros include making friends! Or enemies, for a hundred whole days! Some of you might even get married together, I have high hopes because wedding cake is everything)

Sayani from @studign-stars will be the admin for Discord! You can hit her up for queries, if any.

In short, there'll be 3 separate groups. One for those joining via Discord, one for those on the IG group, and a third for those staying on Tumblr.

If you wish to use any other platforms like Snapchat and Twitter, feel free! Also plug your progress on Tumblr too so we can hype each other on! (tag stuff with #100dos)

+ That said, I highly suggest joining either one of the groups, for accountability does wonders. It's now up to you, fellow warrior.

How to prep for this challenge:

OhO! There's a whole lot prepping to be slayed. To finish this challenge as smoothly as possible, here's a few steps. Make this easier for yo’ lazy bum.

1+ Firstly, grab a marker and scrap paper (when you on a student budget, cuz same) and write down numbers from 1 to 100. I did 1 to 30 to prevent myself from being overwhelmed, but do right them numbers to gain momentum.

2+ Take couple before photos. From the front, and the side. If you don't want to, take them anyway and store it in a folder you never open. Also measure your weight, and if you have a measuring tape, take other basic measurements of the chest, waist, arm etc.

3+ Coming to the main part! Pick your 'base’ routine. This is the primary workout you wanna do 2-3 times a week. It's the main course!

For beginners, I suggest choosing a 15 min full body workout. Do try it out before you start 100 days— make sure it's challenging enough.

For those who already move their bodies, pick a workout that aligns with your long-term goals. If you want toned legs, pick a leg day routine. If you want abs, focus on abs.

My base routine is the Beginner's Bodyweight Workout (BBW) from the NerdFitness website. I do 3 sets of the entire routine (takes around 25-30 mins) thrice a week.

So, do some research and pick a workout! Doesn't have to be an hour long at all, just make sure it's time-effective and challenges you.

4+ Find your cheat day workout.

Yikes, the wording is kinda incorrect, but anything for the clickbait.

This is the workout you do 2 days a week, and is the second most important workout. (This means: 3 + 2 = 5, you’ve now got five days planned!)

I do Alexis Ren’s ab routine (I hate it) twice a week because abs are my target zone. For you, it could be arms, thighs, butt, anything!

5+ Leave your last two days for simple moving.

It's up to you to decide what's going to be cooking in the remaining two days. For suggestions, you can pick a fun activity, say yoga, handstands, cartwheels, splits, any form of dancing like hip-hop, Zumba etc.

I'm trying to do a handstand this year and get my middle splits already (I fell off track so I still have quite a way to go) so I'll be stretching and doing hand flexibility exercises in the last 2 days.

Or you can just go for a jog or a power walk. Just keep the momentum going!

A quick recap:

To summarize, you're doing a major workout 3 times a week, a toning workout (mine is abs) twice a week and a fun activity in the last two days.

Also, mix this up. Your muscles need time to heal, and I strongly emphasize leaving the next day free for lighter activities after doing a major workout. Here's my routine, as an eg:

Do remember that this is just a STARTING POINT, because we don't want you to wake up everyday and be like “wut I do today.” It's now your mission to plan your workout routine. Consider taking more workload or reduce it as per your level (this is definitely a lot, try reducing if you're just beginning).

Also important: DETERMINE your workout routine NOW. I spent 2 years (only stopped like 3 months ago) doing YouTube videos haphazardly. This works, because you are working out after all, but it's a pretty lousy method if you want consistent results. Also makes you depend on motivation to workout (which has probability results equal to me marrying Tom Felton), whereas if you had a routine, you'll have to workout because it's in your schedule and you'd be a loser to lie to your schedule.

Is this a lot? It's a lot. I know.

If this is overwhelming you, don't back away darling. Face your fears. Here are some reasons to not back out—

The entire challenge is flexible: You don't have to follow that routine ^ if you don't want to. Starting out, you can do a major workout 2 times a week and fill the other 5 days with fun stuff. You can always change the routine later, 100 days is a long ass time.

The challenge fucks with your mindset and strengthens it: 100 days of continuous movement is CRAZY. Can you imagine how strong (mentally too!) we'll all be at the end? You'll have grown so much!

Working out will become a habit: I've been working out for 2 years now, and it has positively affected every single sphere of my life. Exercising is the #1 habit I suggest everyone build. Since science says it takes 66 days to build a habit, we're ON it.

You'll be really proud of yourself: I know I'll be. I'm literally going to hug y'all at the end of it, and sing jingles about how far you've come. 2019 will have been slayed.

I could go on and on, but this is it. Now's the moment. This is about doing something you're afraid of. Taking risks. Learning, falling, getting back up.

Thence, ladies, gents and non-binary pals, THIS is the 100 days of sweat challenge. You're cordially invited to it.

(We're dramatic, yes.)

🌻 !!! MAJOR PSA & DEADLINES:

The challenge itself begins on 10th April, 2019.

You'll be added to the IG group latest by 7th April.

Because I'm your mom, I'll add everyone in, tell you the details and everything. If you’ve got any questions, jump into my inbox now and get them answered.

That said, please remember that I won't take anyone in midway (no, not even if you buy me free tacos for a year). So join in now & spread the message! The more, the merrier! Bring beer too!

Thanks for joining in! This will be promising and hugely interesting (accountability can do wonders, but we'll see). I'll be waiting for you on the other side with my stuffed animals, cIaO fReNdOs!

— Nandini (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ 💌

letting my taglist folks know (which you can join here!)

@doctorearlgray, @mintschlar, @procrastilate, @scienceandsarcasticdroids, @sxudying, @hannistudies, @vocative, @studign-stars, @ash-trological, @sweet-bean-study-queen, @chaoticstormthings, @lunetudes, @beingstudent, @beautiful-magicalbrain, @akydemics, @literery, @redvelvetstu-dies, @vivinotes, @jynsdesk, @moonshinestudies, @studying-in-chaos, @thelazyunistudent, @einstetic, @ram-the-blonde-bitch, @a-students-lifebuoy, @studahliless, @inspostudying, @the-diary-of-a-failure, @would-iwasshookethspeared, @coffeeandpies, @artsytourism, @gloomstudy, @scrolls-of-jupiter, @studytrivia, @ristudy, @isatriestostudy, @historicalbeez, @luvjoys, @indiaisstudying, @studyingunderwater, @dianeemay, @kemi-k, @londonotes, @froststudies, @pennyfynotes, @studiently, @midnightstudying, @unicorndoesstudies, @studyingundersun, @wingedprunepsychiclawyer, @tonystarkstudies, @delphinaaugery, @morganastudy, @studiies-psych, @sumastudies, @emrys-studies, @parleonstudies, @acataemic, @studylustre, @adelinestudiess, @sorcierstudies, @coffeeinfusedstudying, @pizza-and-studying, @the-third-me, @scrunchiestudies, @jemsjournals, @jas-study, @jabuticabablr, @khelmatic, @avastvdies + you, if you’re reading this!

#100dos #unicorn studying #studign-stars #inspostudying #looklibraerie #heypfyn #jacistudies #lunetudes #ash-trological #studylustre #gloomstudy #dahliless #moonshinestudies #athenastudying #heypat #heylondonotes #adelinestudiess #hanniscup #heyindia

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pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc · 5 years

Text

Helpless - Jimmy Darling

pairing: jimmy darling x reader

warnings: major spoilers for freak show, amputation

———————————————————————

“I got a deal for you, kid.” The seven words that changed my life permanently.

You see, I’ve been a freak ever since birth. I was born with a rare condition called ectrodactyly, which meant that my normal five fingers were conjoined into two fingers and a thumb on each hand.

Unfortunately, being a ‘freak’ meant many things:

That I would never be accepted into society.

That I would be considered an oddity, an exhibit, something to gawk and laugh at.

And that I’ll never find love.

I never thought much about these things, accepting that they were just part of my life, until I met Jimmy Darling.

I wandered into sunny Jupiter one day and happened upon a small freak show, made up of many acts. One of those acts happened to be none other than Lobster Boy, son of Neptune, god of the sea. I saw him and thought, I’ve found it, I’ve finally found it.

I know, love at first sight, it’s a cliche. And the fact that we’re both freaks with the same condition is doubly cliche, but we had something special.

We formed a beautiful bond, both of us secretly wishing it would develop into something more. In time, I joined the show, combining my act with Jimmy’s as “The Glamourous Lobster Twins”. We started to do everything together, go everywhere together. Hell, we were practically Bette and Dot, joined at the hip.

He even took me to his secret “Tupperware Parties”, where he worked his second gig. Naturally, being a good friend and all, I wasn’t happy about his method of bringing in the bucks, but I had to support him regardless.

One day, the police showed up to camp, not to anyone’s surprise, seeing how often they showed up. They came to arrest Jimmy and I for the murder’s of the housewives from the Tupperware Party. Of course, I had no idea they had been killed, and I knew it wasn’t me or Jimmy, seeing as we left at the same time. But I knew I had to act fast, so I confessed.

“Officer, please keep Jimmy out of this. It was me, I killed those women.” I lied, holding my hands out to the man.

“Y/N, no, what are you doing?” Jimmy protested, pulling me back by my shoulder.

“Shhh, Jimmy, I’m keeping you safe. You need to be at home with all of your family right now, and I��m making sure of it.” I shushed him, cupping his cheek gently.

“But you’re my family, darlin’. Wherever you are is where I feel safe. I can’t see you go.” He cried out when the officer began handcuffing me.

“See you soon, Jimmy Darling.” He held my hand as the police walked me to the car. Little did I know, that would be the last time I’d ever be able to do that.

“What if I told you there was a way you could get out of here and see the freak show again?” Richard said through the bars of my cell.

“Oh please, Mr. Spencer, I’d do anything!” I exclaimed.

“You see, I know someone who works in a certain line of business that would pay handsomely to see you,” he paused, noting the confused expression on my face. “He deals in oddities, freaks, if you will. He makes money by showing the preserved remains of them to paying customers in a museum, and he has been dying to get his mitts on those mitts,” Richard gestured down to my hands.

“H-he wants my hands?” I questioned, more to myself than anyone else.

“Even just one of the conjoined fingers would do. That is, if you’re willing.” He suggested.

“I don’t know, is there anything else I could do to get out of here?” I asked hopefully.

“I don’t think so, hon, he seems pretty firm in what he wants, I don’t know if I could sway him.” Richard said.

“I’d have to think about it.” I said, deep in thought.

“The way I see it, you don’t have much time for thinkin’. You either do this, and get a good lawyer to defend you, or rot in here until a public defense gets your case. And trust me, that’ll do you more bad than good.” He paced outside of my cell.

I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to think. Would I really be willing to stoop as low as selling one of my own appendages to have a shot at getting out of here?

“You know, saying no is a hell of a lot better of an answer than silence. That’ll do you good in court, kid. Good luck.” He began to leave.

“Mr Spencer, wait!” I yelled, getting his attention. “I’ll do it, but just the one finger, right?”

“Of course.” Richard grinned devilishly. “Drink this.” He handed me a small bottle which I downed in a shot. Not even a minute later, I was retching up what was left of yesterday’s lunch into the grimy toilet bowl.

I was quickly escorted out of the jailhouse and into an ambulance, Mr Spencer in tow. They hooked me up to something, making me feel woozy and lightheaded.

“Just rest, Y/N, your procedure will be over in no time.” Was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.

I woke up, a searing pain in my head and both wrists. I groaned and tried to sit up, but my head was gently pushed back down.

“Wha-” I opened my eyes, seeing a blurred version of Jimmy. “Jimmy, where am I? Why does everything hurt?” I croaked out.

“You’re back at the freak show, darlin’.” Jimmy said, smiling weakly. “You- uh- you went to jail to save the rest of us, remember?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” My face screwed up in confusion when I saw tears streak down his face. “Jimmy, baby, why are you crying?”

His eyes looked everywhere except back into mine before they settled on my midsection. I looked down at myself, searching for any noticeable difference, when I noticed my arms were strapped down to the bed.

“What the-” my arms ached as I raised them up to see what was wrong.

My jaw dropped.

Richard had lied.

He didn’t take one of my fingers, he took both of my hands.

A strangled cry ripped from my throat as I stared at the bloody bandaged-up stumps where my hands should have been. The tears poured relentlessly down my cheeks, leaving clean streaks behind them.

“H-he lied, Jimmy! He p-promised he would g-get me out of there! He took m-my h-hands!” I sobbed.

“Oh Y/N, come here, doll.” He muttered, laying down on the bed next to me, laying his head on my chest and wrapping his arms around me. My arms were still strapped to the bed so I couldn’t hug him back, but i nuzzled my face into his neck.

“What am I gonna do? I can’t do anything anymore. I’m so stupid, it’s pathetic.” I sniffled, leaning my head back on the pillow and staring at the top of the tent.

“Hey, look at me.” Jimmy said sternly, gently grasping my jaw and turning my head to face him. “You, are not stupid. Spencer’s a con artist, he tricks people, that’s what he does. If I were in your situation, I would’ve made the same choice, too. I don’t blame you for it. No one does, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Jimmy. What did I ever do to deserve you?” I sniffed, blinking the tears from my eyes. I wanted to reach out to him, but I couldn’t move my arms.

“Here,” He reached over, unbuckling the straps that constrained me. I tried to stretch out my limbs, but a sharp, shooting pain pulsed through them, making my breath hitch. “Don’t move, darlin’. Just stay put for a bit. Let me make you feel good.”

His voice carried no venom or pity, as I feared it might. I didn’t want him to spend time with me only because I was helpless, but I now knew he wouldn’t.

He gingerly crawled onto the bed, straddling my waist. He placed his hands on my cheeks, lips gliding down to meet mine. I moaned into his mouth as his tongue tangled with mine. How did I ever think I would survive in prison without him?

I moved to wrap my hands around his neck as I normally would, but my arms ached and stung. I groaned again, this time not in pleasure, and Jimmy could tell.

“Did I hurt you, baby? I’m so sorry- we should stop, i shouldn’t have done that-”

“Jimmy, it’s okay. It was my fault, don’t blame yourself. I really liked it, actually.” My cheeks tinged pink. “Can we keep going?”

He nodded sweetly, resuming his careful ministrations. He didn’t make me beg, or tease me like he normally would, no. This was a whole new side of him, and I embraced it wholeheartedly.

———————————————————————

if there was a way i could avoid writing endings that would make me immensely happy

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for my fics! also let me know if you want to be removed lmao

TAGLIST: @felloff-the-moon @dylisbae @gracebtw @imma-witch-bitch @exvanpeters @heavymetalover @totally-true @magicaljellydonut @cobainlover @polarluxray @fuckmedobrik

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flightfoot · 5 years

Text

A Convergence of Apollos Chapter 4

Percy’s POV

We caught the subway to the Empire State Building.

I know, I know. We could’ve just walked, it wasn’t THAT far. But none of us felt like hauling an upset metal bird around farther than we had to. Plus, while I felt great (that rain did wonders for my energy), and Grover and Meg looked reasonably energetic, Apollo was BEAT. He’d been so excited about the new clothes he’d crafted... and had crashed a few minutes later. I’d thought I’d have to carry him to the subway, which would’ve been hard since I was already carrying the birdcage. I guess summoning all those things took a lot out of him.

Some other passengers looked at us disapprovingly as we hauled our bird cage around. I guess they didn’t like how rough we were being with our ‘pet’, but after what the Celedon had put us through, I REALLY didn’t care.

Apollo collapsed on a nearby seat, breathing hard. He didn’t look sleepy at least, just exhausted.

Was all of this tiredness just from playing the lyre?

Then again, I didn’t know what he’d been doing BEFORE he materialized in the park...

Now seemed as good a time as any to find out.

“Hey Apollo?”

He looked up at me wearily. “Yeah?”

“How DID you wind up time traveling anyways?”

He let out a long sigh. “Meg and I were looking through Tarquin’s Tomb-”

“Who’s Tarquin?”

“The last Roman Emperor. He was SO bad, he was overthrown and the Roman Republic was instated.”

Apollo continued, “Anyways, we were looking through his tomb for the Sibylline books, which contain a lot of ancient prophecies. I always thought they’d been burned, but apparently not. At least, not all of them. We didn’t really know where to look, so Meg and I just kinda wandered around trying not to die.”

I nodded sagely. “Always the best plan. Dying sucks. No blue food in Elysium.”

Ok, so I didn’t actually know whether that last one was true. But considering how happy the dead were with simple Happy Meals, I figured that they didn’t have very good food down there.

Apollo laughed, a bit more life returning to his face. I grinned back at him. Was this really the same person who’d proclaimed that heroes were for running the god’s errands? He just seemed like another kid, like another demigod, fighting beside us and trying not to let anyone he cared about die, or die himself.

I still didn’t get how a god could change so drastically, but maybe... maybe they really weren’t that different?

This kind, dorky teen... maybe this side of Apollo was hidden away in the present Apollo too.

I hoped so.

Apollo chuckled, “Well, I don’t know about THAT, but I agree about dying. Pretty sure my sister would charge into the Underworld herself, drag me back, then kill me again for dying on her.”

Yes, that did sound like Artemis.

“ANYWAY, getting back on track here, we searched the tomb for awhile with no success.”

“Unless you call ‘getting chased by your nose moss’ a success,” Meg cut in.

“Eurynomos,” Apollo corrected.

“Whatever.”

“So I asked my magic prophetic arrow where I needed to go-”

I knew I shouldn’t interrupt, but I HAD to ask. “Magic prophetic arrow?”

“The Arrow of Dodona. It talks in a fake Shakespearean accent and insults me constantly. It’s quite annoying. Plus I’m the only one who can hear it, so I look like a crazy person when I consult it.”

Well, not the weirdest thing I’d heard of. Heck, not the weirdest thing I’d heard of TODAY.

“The arrow told me to go to a particular room and find a cloth woven from Fate’s threads. We searched around for awhile and found it tucked away in a chest. Then SOMEONE-” Apollo glared at Meg, who looked back, completely unperturbed, “-thought it was a brilliant idea to grab hold of something woven by the Fates themselves. I grabbed onto Meg, we vanished, then fell onto the ground with a bad case of motion sickness. And, well, you know the rest.”

I frowned. “Do you know how to get back to your time? WHETHER you can get back?”

Apollo closed his eyes, his brows furrowing. “I- I hope we can get back. No, we MUST get back. Our friends need us! I have to believe that the Arrow set us on this path for a reason.”

“Wow, you have a lot of faith in that Arrow,” I observed.

Apollo laughed wryly. “Nope. But if I allow myself to believe that we’ll never get home and that all our friends and family will die, I’m going to panic.”

Oh. Fair enough.

I decided to change subjects.

“So anything you can tell me about what’s gonna happen? Anything that will help?”

Apollo was quiet for a moment, thinking. Finally he spoke.

“First of all, you should know that I’m only from two years into the future. It’s going to be a BUSY two years. And I don’t remember that much. I wasn’t paying much attention to the world around me all of the time. Also, shoving four thousand years of memories into a mortal brain REALLY doesn’t work well. I’ve forgotten a lot, and what I DO remember isn’t always useful. But I’ll try to help.”

“Typhon was freed, and we gods left to fight him - well most of us, anyway. We didn’t succeed against him until Poseidon joined the fight.”

Apollo looked at me thoughtfully. “I believe that you were the one to convince him to intervene. I don’t remember how you persuaded him, unfortunately.”

He continued while I mulled that over, “Typhon was a distraction. While he kept us gods busy, you demigods defended Mount Olympus from Kronos’s forces.”

He frowned, looking at me, “I don’t remember a lot of details, but I remember this much: the fight started a few days before your birthday, and ended ON your birthday. You’re the child who reached sixteen, but NOT the Hero of the Prophecy. LUKE was the hero. He chose to save Olympus at the last second.”

Wait, what? “Uh, Apollo, you realize that I’ve never actually heard the full prophecy, right?”

He blinked.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You should probably learn it then. If I remember right, it goes:

A half-blood of the Eldest gods

Shall reach sixteen, against all odds.

And see the world in endless sleep.

Hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap.

A single choice shall end his days,

Olympus to preserve or raze.

Well that didn’t sound great. Then again, prophecies rarely did.

I pressed Apollo for details, wanting every bit of foreknowledge I could get. “What choice did Luke make? What endless sleep? What’s the cursed blade?”

Apollo shook his head. “I’m sorry Percy. I don’t remember.”

Looking at his mournful face, I believed him.

“So what else CAN you tell me?”

He hesitated for a moment. Carefully, he asked, “Percy? Do you remember how I mentioned Thalia’s brother?”

I nodded. How could I forget?

“Well, the reason he and Thalia were separated, the reason she was led to believe he was dead... is because he’s ROMAN, not Greek.”

What?

The confusion must have been clear on my face. Apollo elaborated, “We gods change to fit the culture we’re in. The longer and deeper the impact of that culture on us and the more different that image is, the more we differ. For most of us gods we default to Greek as our sort of ‘base’ form, but we have Roman forms as well who can look act differently. We sometimes have kids while we’re in Roman form. Those kids don’t go to Camp Half-Blood. Instead they travel to the Wolf House, where Lupa decides whether they’re strong enough to train. If she accepts them, then she’ll train them off and send them towards Camp Jupiter. If not... well... let’s just say that Lupa isn’t kind to the weak. And she doesn’t mind the taste of demigod flesh.”

I felt slightly ill. “How many does she... erm... usually fail?”

Apollo thought for a moment. “You know, I can’t actually remember her failing anyone in recent decades. I wasn’t paying much attention to Camp Jupiter though, so I can’t say for sure.”

Well that was comforting.

“Anyway, Hera was FURIOUS when Jason was born. Bad enough Zeus cheated on her with that mortal, but to then go back a few years later and have ANOTHER child with the same woman? He went too far. Jupiter, Zeus’s Roman form, gave Hera - or rather Juno - Jason’s life, even naming him after her favorite mortal as an attempt to appease her. Because naming one of his kids in her honor went SO WELL with Heracles. Luckily she took a liking to Jason. By ‘taking a liking’ I mean that she told his mother to hand him over to the wolves when he was two years old. Both she and Thalia assumed the wolves had killed him. No one corrected them. Greek and Roman demigods were supposed to be kept separate.

“But why?” I asked. “Wouldn’t we be stronger together?”

He tilted his head towards me, giving me a small smile. “Indeed you would be - if you could stop fighting.”

I frowned. “Why would we fight each other?”

“Greeks and Romans have a long-standing grudge against each other,” Apollo explained. “It didn’t help that some gods and goddesses did NOT take the Greek-to-Roman transition well. Most notably Athena.”

Annabeth’s mom?

I leaned forwards slightly. Annabeth would DEFINITELY want to know about this, if she didn’t already. “What happened to Athena?”

“The Romans stripped her of her status as a war goddess, reduced her to a goddess of crafts and wisdom, and stole her most sacred statue. They tried to break Greece’s spirit by stealing the Athena Parthenos. They succeeded, but they made a powerful enemy. Athena has NEVER forgiven the Romans for disrespecting her like that. She’s pushed the two sides to fight ever since, hoping that the Greeks would crush the Romans. There’s already a natural animosity between the two sides, it doesn’t take much of a push to get them fighting. After the Civil War, which had Greeks and Romans fighting and killing each other, we gods decided to interfere to stop our children from murdering each other. Athena disapproved of course, but she was outvoted. We increased the level of Mist around your groups, erasing all memories of the others existence from your minds. We kept an eye on any quests where you guy were likely to pass close by, increasing the Mist whenever you almost stumbled across each other. It worked! ... For a while.”

“What changed?”

Apollo grimaced. “Great-grandma started waking up.”

“Who?”

Apollo shook his head. “I don’t want to say her name. Best not to attract her attention. Ask Annabeth. She should know.”

I filed that info away for later. “What’s so terrible about your great-grandmother waking up?”

“She wants to destroy all of humanity and all the Olympian gods. She actually had some kids, the Giants, who she made for the sole purpose of destroying each of the Olympians.”

“She had kids JUST to use as an army?”

“Yep.”

“That’s messed up.”

“I’m not going to disagree with that.”

“Anything special about these Giants? Are they just like the Titans, but bigger?”

Apollo looked pained and... guilty? “It’s worse than that. The Giants can’t be defeated by a mortal or a god working alone. They can only be killed by a god and a mortal working together.”

My heart sank. “So the gods obviously teamed up with all of us demigods and helped us send them packing, right?”

“Well...” Apollo rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed and ashamed. “You see... Father thought that maybe if we gods holed up and didn’t interact with the mortal world, that great-grandma might settle down. She didn’t.”

“Gods disobey Z- your father all the time, though! They helped, right?”

“I... guess so?”

“You guess?”

“I was kinda hiding for most of the war, so I was out of the loop.”

I frowned. “Why were you hiding? Shouldn’t you have been helping fight the Giants?”

Now he REALLY looked ashamed. “I... may have had a role in making things more difficult. Unintentionally, of course.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to continue. After a moment, he did. “One of the Campers at Camp Jupiter was a descendant of mine named Octavian. He told me that he’d make Rome strong, like it was back in the old days. That he’d make sure I was honored as one of the most important gods, above even Zeus! I liked the sound of that. I gave him my blessing. I ignored his hatred of the Greeks and his growing instability. He told me what I wanted to hear, so I ignored the warning signs.”

Apollo avoided my eyes, but kept on talking. “When Camp Half-Blood sent an envoy to Camp Jupiter, it looked like things would go well... at first. Then an Eidolon, a spirit, possessed one of the Greek demigods and forced him to fire on the Camp. The Romans assumed that the diplomatic envoy was a trick and promptly declared war on the Greeks. Luckily they didn’t know exactly where Camp Half-blood was. All of the Seven had to get out of there in a hurry.”

I frowned. “The Seven?”

Apollo blinked. “Oh yeah. You guys don’t have that prophecy yet. It went like this:

Seven half-bloods shall answer the call,

To storm or fire, the world must fall,

An oath to keep with a final breath,

And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death

“The ‘world falling’ sounds pretty bad,” I observed.

Apollo rolled his eyes. “It’s not, actually. This is one of those cases where the prophecy is PURPOSELY deceptive. ‘The world’ is great-grandma, it’s foretelling her defeat. As for the Seven, they are you, Annabeth Chase, Piper McLean, Leo Valdez, Frank Zhang, Hazel Lavesque, and Jason Grace. Frank, Hazel, and Jason are Roman.”

I wasn’t thrilled about being part of ANOTHER prophecy, but at least I’d survive past sixteen.

Apollo continued his story. “We gods are reflections of the culture we come from. When our two groups of children started fighting, the Greek and Roman sides of ourselves started fighting too. Gave most of us SPLITTING headaches, incapacitating us. Well, except for those of us who were either exclusively Greek or Roman, or who were pretty much the same in both forms. So most of us couldn’t help even if we wanted to. But I had an additional problem.”

Apollo stared at his feet. “One of the Praetors, Reyna, was pretty reasonable. She tried to rein in the Legion. But then she had to leave, and OCTAVIAN took control of the Legion. He took my blessing as a sign that whatever he had planned had my full support. He thought that the best way to ‘solve’ the gods’ headache problem and ‘save’ New Rome, was to wipe out the Greeks entirely. Father blamed me for Octavian’s poor decision, and decided to blame me for basically the entire war.”

He smiled bitterly. “I think he just wanted to scapegoat someone, pin the blame on anyone who wasn’t him. Him sticking his head in the sand had made things way more difficult than they needed to be, and he didn’t want to look weak or stupid. Not after the embarrassment of the Second Titan War. He was SO angry with me. But he couldn’t harm me on Delos, mine and Artemis’s birthplace. Being on Delos also protected Artemis and I from the incapacitating headaches. We sat out the whole war there, until the Greeks and Romans made up. That united us gods’ essences, allowing us to FINALLY recover enough to fight back. All of us gods rushed in to fight off the Giants with you Seven, defeating them easily. Then Father called me forwards, blamed me for the war, and sent me to Olympus. I can’t remember anything else until six months later, when I awoke, mortal, hurtling out of the sky, and landed in a dumpster.”

I winced. Sounded like gods weren’t necessarily any more caring towards their divine children than their demigod ones.

Apollo’s voice cracked, self-loathing seeping in. “I discovered just how BLIND we gods had been! Some Roman Emperors managed to make themselves immortal. They’ve been plotting their takeover for MILLENNIA. They helped fund Kronos’s army and Octavian’s attack on Camp Half-blood. They’ve been kidnapping young demigods and raising them to serve in their army.”

The subway started to slow down. “What do I need to know?” I asked hurriedly. I had a nagging sensation that I wouldn’t get to talk to Apollo much longer after this.

Evidently Apollo felt the same way, as he spoke hurriedly while the four of us (plus the bird) departed the subway and headed towards our rendevous with the current Apollo.

“If campers start to go missing a few months after the Second Giant War ends, it’s probably due to the Grove of Dodona regrowing itself in Camp Half-blood and calling for help. Nero tries to burn the grove and attacks Camp Half-Blood with the Colossus Nero. The Cave of Trophonious is in Indianapolis. Georgina was being held prisoner by Commodus. If that happens in this timeline as well, you’ll need to break into Commodus’s palace to rescue her. She also might be my daughter, not sure on that one. And- and then there’s-”

His voice cracked, ”There’s Caligula. His forces attacked Camp Jupiter shortly after I consulted Trophonious. Leo flew away to warn them. Meanwhile, Meg, Grover, and I left to rescue Herophile, another one of my Oracles, who Caligula had locked up. But we needed to retrieve his sandals in order to navigate the Labyrinth - that’s where she was being kept, yes it came back, no, I don’t know how. That’s when everything went wrong.”

A small sob escaped Apollo’s throat. “Jason, he- he’d gotten a prophecy MONTHS ago, saying that we’d only succeed if he and Piper came with Meg and I on our quest, but that either he or Piper would die. He decided right then that it WOULDN’T be Piper. He fought off Caligula long enough for us to get away, but died in the process. Crest - he’s a Pandos - he helped us get away. He helped us the next day too. He held off Medea, stopped her from destroying me, at the cost of his own life. We would’ve been finished if not for-”

Apollo startled, wide-eyed. “The Silver Wives! The Meliai! If we had just waited until they’d woken up, Crest would still be alive!”

He grabbed me urgently. “Percy. There are several special seeds that Meg’s family had been working on for MILLENNIA. They’re at her childhood home, Aeithales. Meg MUST be the one to plant them. Only she can make them grow. Wait to attack until those dryads are awake if possible. They’ll be invaluable.”

I nodded. “I will.”

Apollo let out a breath of relief and let go.

The four of us rounded the corner. I saw the god Apollo pacing around by the Empire State Building, waiting for us. And beside him...

Mortal Apollo stood still for a moment, slack-jawed. Then he came to his surges and surged towards the second figure desperately, the three of us following in his wake.

#trials of apollo #a convergence of apollos #fanfiction #percy jackson #apollo #lester papadopoulos #Meg Mccaffrey #grover underwood #toa #the trials of apollo

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authorgirl1111 · 5 years

Text

Demigod’s Grief Ch. 4

Thalia

Thalia had begged Artemis, to at least let her see her brother’s funeral. Artemis had been hesitant, but Thalia had refused to back down. Insisted that she would leave anyway, with or without Artemis’s permission.

She had fully expected Artemis to take away her gifts. To tell her that if she left, Artemis would no longer consider her a huntress.

At that moment Thalia no longer cared.

But Artemis allowed her to leave the hunt. Allowed her to go see her brother’s funeral. Artemis had given her a few provisions, including a couple of beads that would allow her to be transported back to the hunt when she was ready to rejoin them.

Artemis had insisted that she take one of the hunters with her. That she would need someone there. Thalia hadn’t cared, so Artemis sent Iphigenia with her, one of the more levelheaded hunters.

Artemis smiled at her sadly before waving her hand, and Thalia and Iphigenia were transported to Camp Jupiter.

---

Thalia blinked as she appeared just outside Camp Jupiter. Iphigenia looked at her, waiting for Thalia to make the first move.

For a moment Thalia couldn’t move. Afraid of what she would find, when she asked to see her brother.

She looked at Iphigenia, dead dad, killed by her mom, then her brother killed her mother. Who was then hunted by furies for killing his mother?

Iphigenia’s brother had been told to kill his mother by Apollo as well.

Was there anything Apollo did, that didn’t make anyone’s life worse?

That hardened her resolved and she took a step, she had been Told that Apollo was escorting her brother, she needed to see him, to… talk to him.

Thalia stalked forward, Iphigenia following her.

Guards rushed her, Thalia’s hands sparked with electricity, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Calm Down” Iphigenia insisted. “This is how we get locked away, not how we get them to let you see your brother.”

Thalia took a deep breath, and the electricity on her hands went away. “I am Thalia grace, sister Jason Grace former Preator of the twelfth legion”

Some of the guards lowered their weapons, others kept the raised. “We shall take you to the Praetor”

Thalia nodded when some of the male guards tried to grab her, she hissed. “I am a hunter of Diana, don’t touch me.” Iphigenia nodded beside her. The guards immediately let her go, but she kept walking beside her.

“Praetor,” The Guards said when the entered the room. Reyna was sitting on her throne, two dogs made of gold and silver were sitting alert at her heals, and in front of her was Apollo and Meg.

“You!” Thalia cried. “What do you think you're doing here? Do you think you have the right, to handle my brother’s body after you got him killed?”

“Thalia-” Apollo tried. But Thalia’s fingers were already starting to spark.

“You should have left him alone,” Thalia said. “He was happy. He was finally away from all this danger, and you just tossed him, back in. Do you even care? Of course, you don’t, you gods never change.”

Meg stalked forward, but Apollo placed a hand on her and shook his head Apollo didn’t say anything. He turned to Reyna, “Should I leave you to speak with Jason’s sister?”

Reyna’s eyes flicked to her, before turning back to Apollo, “We’ll talk later.” Apollo nodded once before he and his little master walked out leaving Thalia, Iphigenia and Reyna alone.

Thalia turned to Reyna. “I would like to see my brother.” She said.

Reyna paused for a moment before she nodded. “Of course.”

She stood and walked away. “He mentioned you on occasion,” Reyna said. “He never really forgot you.”

Thalia smiled a little. It was the first smile she had given in days.

Reyna walked down to the funeral home, where Jason’s body was kept, lying in wait. She stepped forward and opened the door.

Thalia entered the building and found a man flipping through a magazine at a desk. He looked up and saw Reyna.

“She wishes to see Jason,” Reyna said her head jerking in Thalia’s direction.

Thalia took a deep breath, Iphigenia put a hand on her shoulder.

The man nodded and stood, he took out his keys and lead them to another room. This room was kept colder. There was a figure lying down ahead and Thalia almost felt her throat close.

She ran ahead and stared down.

He was resting in a coffin a dark toga was wrapped around him. His hair was brushed back, glasses framed his face. Thalia looked at him and clasped his hand. “I miss you, little brother,” Thalia said tears rolling down her cheeks.

Thalia looked back at Reyna, and back at her younger brother. She could still see the scar on his lip from when he bit the stapler.

He had always been braver than her. He was the one who could fly. Not her, who was too scared of heights to try.

She broke down crying. “I’m sorry. I should have been there. I’m so sorry.” Thalia clasped his hand tightly. “Maybe if I had been there, I could have prevented this stopped Apollo from making you go,” Thalia said. “I’m so sorry.”

Neither Iphigenia nor Reyna said anything. Thalia wasn’t entirely sure if they were even still there.

She kissed her brother’s cheek. “I’m so sorry” She whispered.

---

She met Apollo again as she was leaving the building. He was avoiding her gaze; she clutched his arm. “No,” She told him. “You don’t get to see him.”

Reyna stepped in. “Thalia, maybe you should- “

Thalia shook her head. “You said I had a say. I don’t want him anywhere near Jason.”

Iphigenia coughed. “maybe you should- “

Apollo nodded once. “if that is your wish,” He said before he turned and walked away.

---

Thalia stayed, looking over the plans for the funeral, while Apollo was off with Reyna doing whatever he had roped her into. Iphigenia occasionally gave some advice but for the funeral but all in all, she stayed quiet.

The next she heard; Apollo was in the infirmary. Reyna was fine as far as she knew. Maybe scarred.

Thalia hadn’t honestly cared, the only reason she left her plans was out of idle curiosity.

Apollo was lying down, his eyes were closed, bandages covered every inch of his body. The only part of him that wasn’t covered was his chest, where a giant scar rested just beside his heart. Meg was sitting up in a bed next to his, she glared at Thalia as she walked in.

Thalia looked at it confused. “Where did he get that?”

“He doesn’t want you to know,” Meg said. “Leave him alone!”

Thalia backed away. “Kind master aren’t you.”

Meg threw one of her rings at her. It transformed mid throw into a sword, Thalia ducked just before it hit her face. “What is-”

“Leave!” Meg cried.

Thalia hesitated for a minute, but Meg threw another ring at her Thalia ducked away and left before meg could toss something else.

---

“I don’t understand why she’s so protective.”

Iphigenia shrugged. “Same reason we’re so protective of Artemis?”

“Artemis didn’t send people to their deaths.” Iphigenia turned to stare at Thalia, her dark eyes calculating.

She remembered Iphigenia’s family. Father dead, killed by the mother, mother killed by my brother on the orders of Apollo.

She clenched her fist. “You must hate Apollo too.”

Iphigenia shook her head. “No, I’d have to hate Artemis too.”

Thalia turned to Iphigenia.

Iphigenia smiled a little. “Artemis asked for my father to sacrifice me, so she would allow them to go to war. In the last moment she saved my life, but the damage was done, my mother refused to believe that I was alive, and she plotted my father’s death, killed him, and yes, Apollo sent Orestes to kill my mother, but he also protected Orestes from the Furies when they attacked him for that act. And it all started with Artemis asking my father to sacrifice me.”

Thalia hadn’t remembered that part of the myth.

“How can you forgive her?”

Iphigenia shook her head. “I chose too, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life angry. And she did save my life, she did regret her actions, she told me herself.”

Thalia sighed. “I just can’t.”

Iphigenia nodded. “I understand. Just maybe hear what he has to say before you decide you hate him forever”

---

Meg refused to leave, but something told Thalia that she needed to talk to Apollo, ask him about the scar.

“I need to talk to Apollo,” Thalia said.

Meg shook her head. “leave him alone” Meg said.

“I just want to ask him about his scar.”

“He stabbed himself in the chest to help Jason and me, what’s there to ask?” Meg said. “Are you going to mock him, because his plan failed, it already hurts him, leave him alone.”

Thalia’s looked at Meg. “What?”

“Caligula needed his essence to become the new sun god, in an attempt to bargain, Apollo threatened to kill himself so Caligula couldn’t get what he wanted. Caligula refused, he stabbed himself, Medea ran to fix him, her concentration broke and Jason broke free of the venti controlling him.”

Thalia's eyes went to the infirmary. “What?”

Meg turned away. “So please. Leave him alone. He’s been through enough.”

Thalia paused. “tell, tell Apollo he can come to the funeral, and that, that I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Meg didn’t say anything.

---

The Funeral went by quickly. Lots of crying, lots of music. Thalia had been asked if she wanted his body cremated or buried. Thalia had asked for a cremation, ashes could be moved more easily if they were in an urn, and Thalia was unsure if she wanted his remains to stay in Camp Jupiter.”

They burned his body and collected his body in an urn. The presented it to Thalia who held it tightly.

Apollo hovered in the back. When the funeral ended, he turned and left.

Thalia wanted to go after him, talk to him but what do you say after realizing you were wrong?

---

She held the urn in her hands and stared up at the sky.

So, Apollo was braver than she thought. She couldn’t’; t believe she had had him so wrong before. Apollo? Artemis’s annoying younger brother, was about as selfless as they come? Her brother would have been so disgusted with her if she found out how she treated Apollo.

That was assuming Meg wasn’t lying of course. But something told her that Meg was being honest.

She saw Apollo ahead, apparently, the next prophecy had a stipulation of being around June, so Apollo had a bit of time off before needing to leave. He spent most of that time in the training grounds, practicing his sword fighting, and archery.

Thalia hesitated, then walked forward.

“Hey”

Apollo paused and turned glancing at her warily. “Yes?” He asked.

She paused and thought about it. She wanted to confront him about what he had done on Caligula’s ship, but she found herself incapable.

She licked her lips. “Can you fly?”

Apollo looked at her shock. “What?”

“Can, could you fly… back when you were immortal, without transforming into a bird, or a fly, or something.”

Apollo scrunched his face as though trying to remember. “I think so?”

“Think?”

Apollo looked away. “My memory hasn’t quite been the best since I was turned human.”

Thalia nodded. Apollo stared at her for a moment.

“Why?”

Thalia shrugged. “I’ve never tried it, never thought I could, then my brother revealed to me he could fly, and… I- well I- “

“It’s a mixture of faith, belief, and trust in yourself and letting yourself fall,” Apollo said. “You have to control the winds around you, and concentrate or else you’ll fall, and since your mortal, probably die”

Thalia nodded. “Thank you.”

---

Thalia had given Iphigenia one of the beads and told her to go back to Artemis. When Iphigenia argued Thalia had said that she was better, and but had still wanted to spend some time away from the hunt. Iphigenia had nodded, had promised to explain everything to Artemis before breaking the beads.

Thalia practiced and practiced and practiced. Before it had just been a way to speak to Apollo, but now… now it felt like something she should try. A way to keep her closer to Jason.

Apollo helped, or tried, he couldn’t remember much, but what he did was helpful.

After a couple of weeks, Thalia became impatient, so she climbed a hill and looked over the city, it was high up. She could feel her heart beating so fast. She hated heights, she tried hard to avoid them, hadn’t been up so high since the quest to find Artemis years ago.

She closed her eyes and felt the wind whip around her. Stepped back and jumped.

Later she would say it was the greatest feeling in her life.

A/N So... yeah, hope you all like it. I did take a little from roman funerary practices. The crying women, the music, Jason wearing a dark toga. That kind of stuff. I hope I remembered it all.

Thalia kissing him is something I got from wikipedia. The closest living relative gave the deceased a kiss and closed his eyes, but Jason’s eyes were already closed. So... (Also got the ‘dark toga’ from their too.)

Everything else i got from here

#demigod grief #thalia #apollo #reyna #meg #jason #Jason's funeral #camp jupiter #iphigenia

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interdimocs · 4 years

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The Santa Trap but for Tigers (Drabble)

T'was the night before Chrismizzle and all through the hizzle, not a hero was stirring, except for the students, because they were definitely awake. They weren't supposed to be really, yet here was the trio, a small group of kids whose mission was that of a standard Christmas movie plot: Capture Sasha the Christmas tiger. ... Okay, that wasn't a standard movie plot mission, but it was certainly close. This year, they'd just decided to, well, catch a Christmas tiger, because apparently Santa was going on a global warming strike, so now they had a Christmas tiger to deal with. "Got the steaks?" Archie whispered to her friends, only to then watch as Psycho reluctantly held up two cooked steaks from the day's dinner. He still couldn't believe he was going along with this, but at the same time, he'd never gotten to do one of these holiday shenanigans, so of course he'd want in on it. He was just concerned by the fact that Archie had convinced poor Jupiter that they were actually going to meet a real freaking Christmas tiger.

"Don't worry! We'll be fine! I've rigged up an amazing security barrier around our chosen watch spots as well as the tree!" Archie reassured the group proudly, though considering her tone, Psycho was pretty sure she was just saying that to brag more than anything. "We have it around two chairs, right?" Jupiter nervously questioned, the boy fiddling with his hands as he watched Archie set the steaks on a plate on the counter. "Yep! Take whichever chair you want! They're both the same size! Actually now that I think about it, I'm kinda jealous. You're the smallest out of all of us," the girl pointed out with a snicker, only to then decide that her placement of the steaks was perfect enough to leave it alone. After that though, she then pulled a devise out from her pajama pockets before pointing it at the ceiling, the girl firing away and watching a small slick ball stick to it quietly. "Perfect. Anyone gets near this baby, and it'll stop em in their tracks! Guaranteed!" "Uh... We can still move without setting it off, yeah-?" asked Jupiter meekly, Archie then holding up a remove as she gave him a nod. "Yep! Haven't activated it yet, so we're good! Now let's get to the chairs!" With that, the young genius quickly slid on over to the chairs, the girl allowing Jupiter to pick his recliner before the other two settled for the remaining one, each with their own large blankets. Archie of course took some time at first to settle down though, mostly because she had to set up some devices around the chairs to create what she called an insta-forcefield, but soon, she was curled up right by Psycho, who'd already begun dozing off as they waited for a Christmas tiger to show up. Despite Archie's excitement, however, she too fell asleep after waiting for too long, leaving Jupiter alone and awake with his thoughts. Unlike the other kids in the group, he'd never done anything remotely close to this. He'd never stayed up late waiting for gifts. He'd never put out goodies for a freaking Christmas tiger to come in and consume them. Was that even safe? Would the tiger even be able to get in? Security in the school was top notch, even without Archie's traps. And none of Archie's traps seemed capable of really stopping a tiger, at least in his opinion. Or maybe he just had the wrong idea on what a tiger was? He'd never seen a tiger before, but he'd heard they were big... Oh boy. He just hoped nothing went wrong... For thirty minutes or so, Jupiter waited, the boy hoping to catch a glimpse of this mysterious Christmas tiger. Unfortunately, sleep had begun creeping up on him, and slowly, the boy was beginning to drift off... That was what would've happened, but it didn't, for suddenly, a glow lit up the center of the room, and that quickly got Jupiter's attention. The glow in question had come from a red swirling vortex, one that Jupiter didn't recognize right away. It was late after all, and he was very much tired, but it eventually dawned on him that this was a portal. A Quintellex portal. Someone from Quintellex Alliance was coming back to the school, and they were going to be exposed to Sasha the probably-incoming Christmas tiger. Fearful of whoever it was getting injured, the boy nearly leaped out of his chair to run over and warn the incoming hero. However, instead, he stayed put, the boy even more fearful of what may happen to him if he were to step out of the recliner Archie had put protective barriers around. Hopefully whoever came through didn't get too badly hurt by everything... And hopefully they wouldn't be mad, though that depended on the member, and unfortunately, luck was not at all in his favor. The person stepping out was one Jupiter quickly recognized to be Arma, the one and only mentor to Archie, and also the scariest member of the Quintellex Alliance, and for good reason. The guy was tall and suffered from resting bitch face, not to mention the fact that he happened to be a scarred up cyborg. This man was not one to be messed with, and Archie's security system was about to find out why. Sensing the motion in the room, traps quickly went off, red lights locking on and firing nets at the man. Arma, surprised, didn't know how to react and was hit, though not before trying to dive out of the way and even shooting at the firing devices. The firing of course quickly woke up Archie and Psycho too, Archie looking like she was about to laugh until she saw who'd gotten wrapped up in her little trap. And what made it worse? A certain agent the children knew had suddenly entered the room, all decked out in a Santa costume: Richard Longhorn. "Arma-?!" The agent seemed very much distressed by the state of his friend, or maybe he wasn't distressed by that. Maybe he was more afraid of the fact that there was a chance the man might try and attack him. Granted he did point his blaster at the human, but upon processing who it was, the man powered it down and began trying to remove himself from his predicament. "Functional," the alien grumbled, only to then look around the room with his one artificial eye. And quickly, that eye had locked right onto the trio. "As are some students." Once Arma had spotted them, Longhorn had as well, and it didn't take long for the festive-looking man to start demanding an explanation. "What are you doing out here?! And more importantly, why are there traps everywhere-" He couldn't help but cut himself off after remembering literally half of the Christmas movies he'd watched over the years. Were they...? "Don't tell me you three were trying to catch Santa Claus." "Not Santa!" Archie replied. "We were trying to catch Sasha the Christmas Tiger! You know! The tiger standing in for Santa while he's on a global warming strike? The daughter of the Grinch and Tony the Tiger? She's pretty famous." "...What-" "These traps are insufficient for a supposed Christmas tiger," Arma commented, the man having broken his robotic arm through some of the nets as he began to remove himself from them. "The size of these nets is not enough to properly capture a tiger. Netting is also less sufficient. It appears more like you were attempting to capture a human or a being close to one." Arma's reply, while clearly just him making remarks, did cause Archie to laugh nervously, the girl scratching her head while Psycho let out a sigh. "...That's alright, Psycho." Ah. Psycho must've sent a mind message to Longhorn it seems. "But there are better ways to watch out for Santa or... Christmas tigers. Understand?" "Yeahhhhh." Archie sounded like she agreed with the statement, but also like she was still rather bored with the explanation. Basically, what Jupiter was taking away from this was that she wasn't sorry. Mostly. "Now, head off to bed, you three. Santa can't deliver gifts when everyone's awake, and I'm sure the same rules apply to the... Christmas tiger." Seems Longhorn still found this new character weird, but he was trying to play along at least; this was kind of new for him after all. "Do we have to...?" asked Jupiter, the boy rubbing his eyes as he looked at the two men in the room. Well, one man. He wasn't looking at Arma. Arma was too scary for him, so. "Yes. Now come along. Arma can escort you to your rooms." Longhorn's statement quickly earned a worried look from Jupiter and Archie, though Psycho didn't seem surprised in the slightest. Arma also didn't seem all that happy, but once the man took into account just how Longhorn was dressed and just, well, decided to go with it. "...Very well. Archie, disarm your traps." Once ordered, Arma then watched the girl stretch before pulling out her remote, the girl clicking a few buttons before sliding out of the recliner she and Psycho had been sleeping in with a quick, "Got em." "Good." "Are we in trouble? I didn't mean to do anything..." That was what Jupiter mumbled as he got to his feet, blanket wrapped around him as he hung his head. "I don't think we meant for a hero to get attacked either." "Oh trust me. That wasn't on my agenda," the supposed genius replied, only to then give Arma a nervous smile. "Guess we have to turn in for real now though. Happy gifting, Teach!" Despite the fact that Longhorn was still a little annoyed by all of this, he did look towards the two and respond kindly to Archie's comment. "Thank you. Merry Christmas to you too, now please get some rest. We still need to celebrate tomorrow, and you will need to pick up all of your deactivated traps." Ah. There was the punishment. "Yes sir-!" "Good. Now please get to bed. Santa and Sasha are waiting to give gifts. Best not keep them waiting." And so, after that comment from the agent, the children were then herded out of the room by the older hero, thus leaving Longhorn to stash the gifts he had under the tree. Ah, what a strange Christmas indeed.

#little girl genius [archie]#aesthetically deadly [jupiter]#mute telepath [psycho]#accidental parent [richard longhorn]#the author's words [drabbles]

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 5 years

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Six Baudelaires AU, Part Two {AO3} {Masterlist} {Part One}

Chapter Two → in which the Baudelaires move into a nice shack

The six Baudelaire children, six months ago, once would have said that they absolutely could not wait to all move out of the house and never see each other again.

That would have been a lie, of course; they’d’ve loved to see each other on holidays, and when one of them needed a favor. But as many siblings will tell you, being forced to spend two decades of your life cooped up with other people will oftentimes make you very sick of said people, whether those people were your siblings, or, in some cases, your cellmates, or your guardians, or other volunteers, or fellow students. Though the Baudelaires desperately hoped that, in present circumstances, they would not spent two decades with other students.

And in the present circumstances, they were starting to wonder if they’d ever want to be apart from each other again. Especially Nick, who rarely released Solitude from his sight since she was ripped from him to dangle precariously in a birdcage, and now looked like he might never release Klaus, who had recently been hypnotized into almost causing a murder. But Lilac was also feeling this way, as Sunny curled up against her and sucked on her own finger, and she looked over at Violet, who was staring blankly ahead at the door across the hall. They were waiting for their new Vice Principal to come out and tell them what they were to do in their new school.

Lilac glanced back at Sunny, starting to stroke her hair, which had been tied up in a ponytail that morning. Lilac often tied her own ponytails, as did Violet; both girls did that when they were thinking of something they wanted to fix or invent. Lilac was the mechanic, and Violet the inventor, though they occasionally dabbled in each others’ fields. But lately, their repairs and experiments had not been for use of fun, but for use of saving their lives from their former guardian, Count Olaf, who was out to kill their guardians and kidnap them in an effort to steal their fortune. Sunny was not yet old enough to tie her own hair, so her sisters had to do it for her. Lilac had to do a lot of things for her siblings; as the oldest, she considered it her responsibility to protect them, and that was a very difficult job in the present circumstances.

Violet herself had a lot on her mind. She remembered how, very soon before, she had gotten her siblings into great danger with her impulsive and stubborn decisions, and she had trouble deciding if it was worth it. They were all alright, sure, but they might not have been. But her decisions had not made for the thrill of it, but in an effort to preserve the legacy of their recently deceased parents. They had a lot of recently deceased relatives, such as their Uncle Monty and Aunt Josephine, but their parents’ death stung the worst because it was the first real grief the children had experienced.

The twins, Nick and Klaus, sat inbetween their sisters, and Nick took Solitude off of his lap to stretch slightly. They’d been sitting for hours, and Nick was already easily bored, even when they weren’t in a dull hallway listening to a horrible violin playing. Klaus stood up, too, also wanting to stretch.

Both twins were avid readers, but Nick liked reading about places he could go to and things he could see, while Klaus was fine just hiding and reading about whatever he pleased. But both had almost perfect memories about their reading, which became very useful when they were in danger and needed some knowledge very fast.

As he stood, Nick turned to look at his brother, and after a second, he realized something. “Wait a minute.” he said. “Are you… taller than me?”

Klaus blinked at him, as if bewildered that this could be considered important in the current moment. “What?” Nick repeated his question, and Klaus said, “I don’t know!”

Nick walked up to Klaus and stood back-to-back with him. “Vi, measure us.” he said.

Violet groaned and stood, and Solitude said, “Winnie,” which meant, “We could have Babbitt judge; they’re good with numbers!”

Though Soli was only a toddler, who only occasionally spoke in full English sentences and was much more likely to speak in small phrases or her own babytalk that she shared with Sunny, both she and her infant sister were incredibly intelligent, and Solitude herself was a budding herpetologist, a word which here means someone who is obsessed with studying reptiles, especially snakes and frogs in the second youngest Baudelaire’s case. And “Babbitt,” as Solitude said, was a word that here meant the name of the frog Solitude had smuggled along with her as a pet. They were a very tiny, genderfluid, talented frog, who could fit in the toddler’s pocket and sleep on her shoulder, and who could also be used as a projectile weapon.

“Babbitt can’t count in inches or centimeters.” Violet said. “But we don’t need measuring at the moment, we just have to see whose head is above the other’s.”

“Is this the time?” Lilac said.

“Fight!” Sunny cheered.

Sunny was still an infant, though she was fast approaching toddlerhood. She spoke almost exclusively in her and Soli’s babytalk, though she occasionally spouted a word in a language that others who were not her siblings couldn’t understand. While “fight” was one of her favorite words, her most favorite was “bite,” as her current favorite thing to do in the world was bite and tear with her sharp teeth. She was the youngest of the six children, but she was just as brave and noble as her siblings. She also loved to participate in the fun sibling bickering that they all enjoyed, as much as they pretended they did not.

Violet put a hand on Nick’s head, and then said, “Yeah, Klaus has a few inches on you.”

“When did that happen?” Lilac asked, stunned.

“Excuse me?” Nick turned around, glaring at his twin. “You can’t be taller than me!”

“I don’t have control over it!” Klaus said.

Ignoring him, Nick said, as he liked to, “I’m the older brother! I should be taller!”

“You’re only older by thirteen minutes!” Klaus said, as he liked to.

“Still older!”

“We’re not identical, we weren’t gonna be the same height forever!”

“Meaning I should be taller!”

“Could you two shut up?” Lilac asked, leaning her head against the hard back of the bench.

“We’ll shut up when the Vice Principal finally decides to get off his ass and come get us.” Nick said.

“I’m so bored, Li.” Klaus said, sitting back down and adjusting his glasses. “I don’t care what happens, so long as something does.”

At that moment, they heard a tap-tap-tap-tap-tap, and a girl danced down the hall, sliding to a stop in front of the six children.

“Hello, cakesniffers!” she said brightly.

She had a dress that was fluffy and fancy and as pink as the barrettes that pushed back her short ginger curls, and, well, the only articles of clothing she wore that were not pink were a bright red brooch on her chest and her black tap shoes.

“Uh, hello.” Violet said, as Lilac stood up and lifted Sunny. “I’m Violet Baudelaire, this is my older sister Lilac, and these are my other siblings Nick, Klaus, Solitude and Sunny.”

“Cool. Nobody cares.” said the girl. “Everyone here knows that I’m Carmelita Spats, the prettiest, most talented, most bright, most brilliant, most adorable girl in the whole wide world!”

“Most humble, too?” Nick raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.” Carmelita grinned.

“How come you don’t have to wear a uniform?” Lilac asked, looking sour. “I’d give anything to wear black instead of this drab maroon.”

“I’m too adorable for a uniform.” said Carmelita Spats. “I’m supposed to give you a tour. That’s the Vice Principal’s office. Vice Princey Nero says I’m the best and he’s totally right. Follow me, cakesniffers.”

“What does ‘cakesniffer’ mean?” Klaus asked, having rarely come across a word he didn’t know.

“It means you’re stupid cakesniffers.” Carmelita said unhelpfully. “Come along.”

She tapped away, and Violet said, “I don’t think it’s a compliment.”

“And I don’t think I like her dancing.” Nick said. “I don’t think I like her much.”

He bent down and picked up Solitude, and she patted her pocket to make sure Babbitt was still asleep inside. Then the six siblings, in itchy and drab uniforms, followed the adorable girl down the halls.

Carmelita’s tour was about as helpful as a coat would be in the Sahara Desert, or on the surface of Jupiter. While she did indeed show them places, she mostly talked about how the teachers in the classrooms thought she was adorable, and how the students in the dorms all did everything she said, and how she got lunch from the kitchen for free because she was so perfect and wonderful. When she finally got them out to the gym field, and explained how they were still trying to replace the gym teacher that had fallen out the window yesterday, and how she had been put in charge of making students do jumping jacks whenever she wanted, the Baudelaires were starting to get very tired of her voice.

“Oh, and there’s our school motto.” she said, pointing up at a sign above some tattered goalposts; everything around the school seemed to be tattered or worn or gray.

“Memento Mori.” Lilac read.

The children fell silent. They all knew basic Latin- they’d learned from their father, who liked to remind them that several languages were derived from it so they’d be easier to learn if they should wish to later. Meaning that they didn’t need Carmelita to translate for them, though she did anyway, as if they were idiots.

“Remember you will die.”

“Cheery.” Solitude said.

Carmelita tapped them away, and as they passed the students jumping jacks, the siblings noticed their stares.

“Ees?” Sunny asked, which meant, “Why are they all staring at us?”

“Maybe they’re staring because we’re new.” Violet said.

“It’s because your home was destroyed and you’re orphans now.” Carmelita said off-handedly.

She tapped them back into the building, and back to where they had started.

“You’re five minutes late.” Carmelita said, and then she hmmed.

“Hmm?” Klaus echoed.

“It is customary,” said Carmelita, “to give the tour guide a tip.”

“A tip?” Violet raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. Are you blind and deaf, cakesniffers?”

After a moment, Nick said, “I’ll give you a tip.”

“Yes?”

Nick smiled slightly. “There’s a book, about the mother of a girl who reminds me a lot of you, in that everyone thinks she is adorable and perfect. The mother gets scared when the girl’s classmate drowns on a field trip and her daughter steals something shiny off of him, and she then finds out that she has a very suspicious genealogy.”

Carmelita looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “What kind of a tip is that?”

“A useful one.”

Carmelita glared at him, and then kicked the door behind her.

The door swung open after a second, and a tall man shouted, “Who dares interrupt a genius musician while he’s rehearsing!”

“The Baudelaires are late for their meeting with you.” Carmelita said.

“How dare you be late!” said the man, who the children figured out quickly was Vice Principal Nero. He then turned to Carmelita and said, softly, “Thank you, Carmelita, for telling me. That is a lovely brooch.”

“The original owner really liked it!” Carmelita said. She spun away, and the Vice Principal gestured for the Baudelaires to follow him inside his office.

The children walked inside, and as they did, placing the toddlers onto the floor, Vice Principal Nero picked up an old violin and started to play.

It sounded awful. Sunny threw her hands over her ears, and Solitude hid her head in the fabric of Nick’s pants. The older siblings just stared at Nero, trying to mask their own horror.

When he finally finished, after what felt like forever, they continued to stare, and he said, “It is customary to applaud a great musician when he has finished his performance.”

Slowly, the older Baudelaires clapped. “Bravo.” said Violet, unenthusiastically.

“Congrats.” said Nick.

“Thank you.” Vice Principal Nero sat down at a desk chair, and said, “So, I have been told all about your misfortune. Your dead parents, your dead uncle, your dead aunt, the destruction of a mill, and a horrible man who has been following you for a while.”

“Count Olaf.” Lilac said.

“Yes.” Nero said. “But rest assured, he will not enter here, thanks to our state-of-the-art computer.”

He gestured to a computer in the corner, which looked very complex.

“How does that computer stop Count Olaf?” Klaus asked.

“How does that computer stop Count Olaf?” Nero imitated. “As if children like you would understand. Now, Violet, Nicholas-”

“Nick.”

“Nick.” Nero rolled his eyes. “You will be studying with Mr Remora in Room One.” he said. “Lilac, Klaus, you will be studying with Ms Bass in Room Two. Solitude and Sunny will be serving as my secretaries. I could use some of those, I have letters to write.”

“I don’t wanna split up!” Nick said quickly.

“Solitude and Sunny should be in nursery school.” Lilac protested.

“Solitude and Sunny should be in nursery school. Well, we don’t have a nursery school, so it’s that or let them rot in the Orphans Shack all day.”

“In the what?” Nick and Violet both asked.

“Well,” Nero said. “The dorms are only accessible to students who have permission slips signed by a parent or legal guardian. And, seeing as you have neither-”

“Couldn’t Mr Poe sign it for us?” Violet asked.

“Couldn’t Mr Poe sign it for us? Mr Poe is not your legal guardian,” said Nero, “He is the executor of your parents’ fortune. If you do not have a permission slip, you will have to sleep in the Orphans Shack until more orphans arrive and you are transferred to an empty room in the dorms.”

“If there are empty rooms,” Lilac said, “Couldn’t we stay there anyway?”

“If there are empty rooms, couldn’t we stay there anyway? You could not, that is not the rules. Rules are the way the world runs. Speaking of rules, we have several. If any of you are late for class or work, your hands will be tied behind your back during meals, and you’ll have to lean down and eat your food like a dog. If you come to the administrative building without being asked, you will have your silverware taken away during meals. If you are late to lunch, you will have your cups and glasses taken away.”

“You can’t be serious.” said Violet.

“You can’t be serious.” Nero rolled his eyes. “In the auditorium every night I give a six-hour violin recital, and attendance is mandatory. ‘Mandatory’ means that if you don’t show up, you have to buy me a large bag of candy and watch me eat it.”

“Aregg?” Sunny asked incredulously, which meant, “What? I can’t believe it!”

“Now, go along to your shack, it’s behind the kitchens.” Nero said, not even caring to ask for a translation. “Should you need to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, there are plenty of bushes.”

“Ew.” said Sunny.

Lilac picked up Sunny, and Nick picked up Solitude, and the children left without even saying goodbye. Nero did not say goodbye either, and instead he continued to badly play the violin.

“Our shack has crabs.” said Violet, looking down at the floor, where several crabs scuttled around.

“Our shack has fungus.” said Klaus, looking up at the ceiling dripping with fungus.

“Our shack has no room.” Nick observed, realizing very quickly that with the crabs, fungus and hay bales, there was not enough room for six children to sleep.

“Gah-ahc.” said Solitude, which meant, “Let’s sleep outside.”

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