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genz420 · 1 year

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The Fire That Burns With Us - Chapter 86: Rulers Of The Sea.

Master List

Pervious Part - Next Part

138 - Riverlands

Visenya has missed dragon riding. It is not the same as riding to war, but the simple moment with Morghon and Cannibal is enough for her to cry. The wind through her braided hair as she closes her eyes to feel it fully.

Morghon seemed more than happy to go on a ride, being gentle and not as fast as he usually was when they would go on their rides. Cannibal had joined her and Morghon in the air shortly after they had taken off, flying slightly above them but still close enough where he cast a shadow over them.

Everything was peaceful for a moment, just the presence of her dragons and the open air. A much-needed escape from the stress of war and the exhaustion of her new title.

But that peace is quickly ruined as a dragon flies passed Morghon, sending Cannibal into a frenzy but Morghon into a happier mood.

Unlike Aemond and Ben, Visenya immediately recognizes that dragon. Having spent her early years learning how to ride a dragon with him on Morghon. A rage fills her as she spots a rider on Seasmoke; she will not hesitate to kill the person that has claimed the dragon that once belonged to her father and was meant for one of her children to claim.

It seems that the person riding Seasmoke is leading Visenya and Morghon toward a clearing, and she happily follows them, with Cannibal flying closer to Visenya and Morghon.

Laenor thanks all the gods so that he can find Visenya on a dragon ride rather than having to see her during a war meeting or on the battlefield. He wants nothing more than to hold his little girl.

The black shadow that is Morghon flies close to him and Seasmoke, but Laenor doesn’t worry for a second about the dragon hurting him or his dragon. What does concern him is the riderless dragon that flies slightly above Visenya and Morghon.

Seasmoke quickly lands in the clearing, and Laenor jumps off his dragon. It felt good to be in the air again, one of the things that he has missed. Laenor makes his way into the meadow's centre as Morghon lands, followed shortly by the bigger dragon. Laenor can’t believe his eyes as Visenya dismounts Morghon and makes her way toward him.

“Visenya?” Laenor asks, not wanting to believe that the sweet little girl he once knew is now a fully grown and scary woman.

Visenya instantly reaches for her waist, reaching for a weapon that isn’t there. Her sword probably still lies against her and Aemonds bed, and her dagger that had once belonged to her father had been left behind on Dragonstone.

“Who are you, and why the fuck do you have that dragon?” Visenya asks; she wishes she had listened to Aemond and Ben about bringing a weapon or one of them with her, but she feels that two grown scary dragons behind her would be more than enough to keep her safe.

But Morghon seems rather excited about the older dragon, leaving Visenya and Cannibal to greet Seasmoke. Cannibal, on the other hand, stays close to Visenya, eyeing the new dragon as a snack. Cannibal will happily rip apart the dragon if he gets too close to Visenya.

“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Laenor tells Visenya, she might be a queen to some, but that didn’t give her any right to say such words.

Visenya looks at the man in bewilderment; she doesn’t know who he is or who he thinks he is to tell her what to do. Laenor has to hold himself back from laughing at the face Visenya pulls at his words; she has always been prideful and strong-headed.

“Excuse me?” Visenya asks, wondering who this man thought he was to be telling her what to do. “You are in my territory, and I will not hesitate to send you back in pieces to that bitch,”

“I’m not working for the Blacks,” Laenor tells Visenya, not commenting on the name-calling of Rhaenyra.

“So the Greens are working with Dragonseeds now. How ironic,” Visenya assumes, laughing at herself. She knows how much Alicent detests basterds, so if she and the Greens are recruiting dragonseeds is comical.

“I am Addam of Hull. I wrote to you about claiming Seasmoke and aiding in your cause,” Laenor tells Visenya, he knows that he should tell Visenya the truth, but he can’t help but wonder how badly she will take the news.

While Morghon doesn’t sense the anger radiating from Visenya, Cannibal does. Cannibal eyes Saesmoke; even if he had indulged in the past week on dragons, he would be more than happy to take the smaller dragon out and drag its carcass back to his nest.

“Cannibal gīda ilagon. Konīr iksis daor ōdrikagon kesī,” Visenya tells Cannibal, resting her head against his neck. She doesn’t know if the dragon is the same as Morghon and loves physical touch, but the low rumble he lets out says he does. Even with the contact with Visenya, Cannibal doesn’t stop eyeing Seasmoke. “Issa daor havor!”

Cannibal, calm down. There is no danger here. He is not food!

Morghon looks away from Seasmoke and towards Visenya, wondering if she is talking to him, but as he sees the hungry and agitated Cannibal, he backs away from Seasmoke and moves back towards the pair.

Laenor watches as Visenya calms the scary dragon, seeming to calm down, still eyeing Saesmoke and him. Laenor feels like if he moves one small muscle, the dragon will jump and swallow him whole. The lack of dragons around Dragonstone scared him, but as he studies the dragon more, he understands why.

The deep black scales littered with scars and the piercing green eyes tell him who the dragon is. But the way that he seems to wrap himself around Visenya, almost blocking her entirely from view and the fact that he doesn’t attack the young Morghon makes him wonder what the relation Visenya has with Cannibal.

“That’s the Cannibal,” Laenor comments and all three dragons are quick to look to the sky, and Laenor follows their eye line. “And that is Vhagar,”

“Fuck me,” Visenya mumbles to herself as she looks back at Cannibal, watching as any progress that she has made in calming him down vanishes. Cannibal and Vhagar don’t get along with each other, and since Cannibal is already on edge because of Seasmoke, she knows that one of the dragons is going to get attacked. “Sōvēs!”

Cannibal lets out a huff at Visenya's command but does listen to her. Moving away from Visenya and Morghon before taking off into the air, as he does, Vhagar lands in the clearing. Morghon is the only happy creature at Vhagars arrival, greeting the older dragon and leaving Visenya's side.

Aemond thanks any gods that might be listening as he finally finds Visenya; the two large dragons had been a dead giveaway to her location. The dragon that had flown over Harrenhal was, in fact, trying to find Visenya, and Aemond can slightly make out a small person that stands in the clearing.

Aemond barely gives Vhagar a chance to land before he makes his way off the dragon, drawing his sword once his feet hit the ground. Aemond almost runs to Visenya, his eye searching for any wound that she might have, and Aemond's eye lingers on the braces on Visenya's hands and arms. Aemond brings his sword up and points toward the man as he gets close enough to Visenya.

“Who are you?” Aemond asks as he slightly pushes Visenya behind him. “Umbagon inkot nyke,”

Stay behind me.

Visenya rolls her eyes at Aemond's command, but instead of pushing him away and yelling at him for thinking she can’t protect herself, she wraps her hand around his forearm, which holds her back. Laenor watches the two, the way that Visenya has relaxed and looks at him softly and how Aemond seems to be protecting Visenya as Cannibal had.

Laenor holds back a smile at the way Aemond talks to Visenya in High Valyrian. He remembers her begging him to bring Aemond to one of her lesions so that he would learn the language with her, and it seems that he had learned it on his own.

“Iksan sȳz,” Visenya tells Aemond, but he doesn’t care. “Iksan able naejot gūrogon hen nykēla,”

I’m fine. I am able to take care of myself.

All Aemond can think about is what might have happened if he didn’t get here in time, if he would have lost Visenya and if this man might have tried to hurt her. Relief that had filled him once he saw that she was okay and unharmed, with her dragons protecting her.

“Daor mijegon aōha egros se aōha paktot sir,” Aemond tells Visenya, and Laenor eyes widen as he notices the way Aemond hand rests on Visenyas's stomach, holding her back.

Not without your sword and your state right now.

“You’re with child?” Laenor asks, and both Visenya and Aemond look away and toward him.

The two would be used to Ben or Rob asking them that question but a stranger or someone they don’t remember asking them that question shocks them both. Aemond looks away from the stranger and towards Visenya, specifically her stomach, where his hand snuggly rests. He had subconsciously rested his hand there, and Aemond can feel his mind racing about the possibilities.

“What?” Visenya asks, not understanding where the man had gained the audacity to ask that question.

“He said that you can’t protect yourself in your current state,” Laenor answers, his hand slightly questioning Aemonds hand, which Visenya moves away at the realization of where it is. Part of Laenor hopes that she is and that he might be able to be there for her pregnancy, but then again, they are at war, and Visenya seems like she would want to be on the front lines no matter her state.

“You speak High Valyrian?” Visenya asks, trying to step closer to the man, but Aemond moves in front of her. There is no way that he will let her get near that man in the first place, but if she is with child, then he will keep as much space between them.

“Are you with child?” Aemond asks, his voice soft and full of hope. They might be at war, but the chance of having another child fills him with so much excitement and joy.

The look that Visenya does not, though.

“Aemond?” Visenya asks, turning her head to make sure that he is being serious. Aemond shakes his head in response, not wanting to upset her, but he can’t help but feel slightly disappointed. Visenya looks back at Laenor, her demeanour that she had before Aemond arrived. “You speak High Valyrian?”

Laenor watches the young couple, the way that Aemond changed entirely at the mention of Visenya's possibility of being pregnant, and his whole wall seems to drop. He hasn’t seen that kind of reaction, not even when Rhaenyra had told Harwin of her pregnancy. The pure look of love and hope that had shined in Aemonds eye when he had asked the question.

“No?” Laenor asks, slightly unsure if he should tell Visenya and Aemond the truth and who he is or if he should keep the identity of Addam of Hull going so he might be able to return to Esso.

It seems like that snaps Aemond out of his little daydream, remembering that there is a stranger with a dragon standing before them. Aemond raises his sword back up, ready to cut down the man if he needs to, but Laenor just eyes the prince. Laenor might be out of practice with his sword fighting skills, but he has more expanse than Aemond, so no doubt he would be able to disarm him if it came down to it.

“Who are you, and what are your intentions?” Aemond asks, keeping his eye trained on Laenor, and Laenor can’t help but shiver at the look in Aemonds eye.

Laenor raises his arms, showing the two that he doesn’t mean to draw his weapon or hurt them. But the longing dragon behind him only sneaks closer; while Morghon doesn’t seem to care about Seasmoke, Vhagar does. Laenor can only imagine what Cannibal would have done to protect Visenya and Aemond.

“Put down your sword, boy I mean no harm,” Laenor tells Aemond, and he realizes that his words might be the best, that the prideful man might take offence to it.

Laenor is, in fact, right about Aemond taking offence at his words.

“How dare you speak to me that way; I am husband to Visenya Targaryen, second of her-”

“Aemond, shut up,” Visenya cuts off Aemond, moving in front of him and closer to Laenor. “Who taught you high Valyrian?”

Visenya can’t deny that the man looks familiar, that his dark purple eyes match hers. The same eyes Corly would always tell her that she inherited from Laenor. The man claimed that he is a dragonseed, so the fact that he has purple eyes only furthers his claim, but the lack of hair makes her wonder. But there is something about his face that makes Visenya's stomach turn.

“My father and mother,” Laenor answers, and he watches Visenya's mind work. It seems that she is putting together the pieces in her mind.

“And who are they?” Visenya asks, the pieces coming together, but she needs him to admit it before she outright accuses him.

“I think you know who,” Laenor answers and Aemond can’t help but watch the two talk, wanting to understand what is happening and who this man is.

“Visenya, who is this man?” Aemond asks Visenya, turning his body slightly away from Laenor and leaving his side open for an attack, but he doesn’t care at the moment.

“Go back to Harrenhal,” Visenya tells Aemond, her eyes pleading with him to just listen to her.

“I’m not going to leave you defenceless,” Aemond tells Visenya, his face close to hers as his breath hits her cheek.

Laenor watches Aemond with a close eye; they might be married, but the idea of Aemond so close to his daughter doesn’t sit well with him.

“Then give me your sword,” Visenya tells Aemond, knowing that it might bring him some peace of mind, but she would not be able to hold it. Unlike herself, Aemond doesn’t have a Vlayrian steel sword, so it is a long chance that she would be able to hold it up and use it.

Aemond quickly hands his sword over, the metal of her braces making a sound as she grabs hold of it and lets it go to her side.

“If you are not back within the hour or if Vhagar tries to bring me back-”

“I’ll be okay,” Visenya assures Aemond, leaning up and giving him a quick kiss on his cheek. “Avy jorrāelan,”

I love you.

Aemond studies Visenya's face, her eyes pleading for him to leave and return to Harrenhal. He could leave the meadow but have Vhagar fly around it to make sure that she is okay, but that would probably lead to them running into Cannibal, with whom Vhagar might pick a fight.

Aemond nods and looks at Laenor, his mind trying to figure out where he recognizes him, but he can’t. Aemond looks down at Visenya's hand; the way she is pointing it at the grown tells him that she can’t support the sword, but he knows that her having some kind of sharp object would give her the advantage if it came down to a fight.

Aemond lets out a hum before making his way back to Vhagar; he will tell Ben everything that has happened once he has returned, and he knows that the knight might be able to give him some answers.

Visenya and Laenor watch Aemond leave, Visenya waiting until Vhagar leaves the meadow to ask her questions while Laenor is happy to have some alone time with his daughter.

“You are going to tell me your name,” Visenya tells Laenor, sticking the tip of Aemonds sword into the ground. She wants to hear him say who he is, to know that her mind isn’t jumping to conclusions about who he is.

Laenor smiles to himself at her commanding tone. He remembers when she was once too scared to talk to people in public, but now she is telling him what he is going to do, and he can’t help but notice that it is the same tone Daemon would use with his soldiers in the Step Stones.

“Well, look at you, miss bossy-”

“I will kill you,” Visenya cuts Laenor off. She wants to scare him and put the fear of the gods into him, but as she tries to pick up Aemonds sword, she can’t, it being far too heavy for her wrist to support and heavier than her own.

“You’ve changed,” Laenor tells Visenya, not phased by her threat.

“I didn’t change; I grew up. Without you,” Visenya corrects Laenor; she wants to know how he is alive and standing before her.

“Ñuha dōnas-”

“Don’t call me that,” Visenya cuts him off; she calls her children by that nickname because she thought that her father loved her just as much as she loves her children, but now she can’t help but doubt that he ever cared. “How?”

“How what?” Laenor asks; he knows that Visenya probably has questions for her, and he wants to ensure that he answers the questions she asks.

“How are you alive?” Visenya asks, not understanding how he is standing in front of her.

“I never died,” Laenor answers; he will tell Visenya the truth to any questions she asks, even if the answers hurt her.

“You left? Did you hate your life that much? Were we not good enough for you to stay? I don’t understand-”

“Your mother and Daemon wanted to marry, and I was the only thing standing in their way,” Laenor cuts Visenya off, not wanting her to think he didn’t love her and that she wasn’t good enough.

Leaving his children was harder than convincing his parents that he was dead, but he knew that Daemon would be more than happy to take over his father's role, giving him peace of mind. That Jace, Visenya, Luke, and Joffrey would grow up with two parents that loved them and each other. He wanted them to have a healthy environment to grow up in, and even if he and Rhaenyra had an understanding, he knew that the children would grow up to realize that they didn’t love each other. He wanted his children to marry someone they love and strive for a relationship that they knew best.

“So they made you leave?” Visenya asks, her voice breaking and Laenor wonders if leaving was the best idea.

Visenya wants so badly to be angry with him, for her anger to be the only thing she feels, but it isn’t. The thoughts of her not being good enough flood her mind. She means nothing to him and has failed as a daughter. Visenya can feel the tears in her eyes, and she does her best to blink them away.

“I never belonged here,” Laenor answers, and he knows that it isn’t a good enough answer for Visenya, but it is the only one he can give.

“So you just abandoned us? You were our father and left like we meant nothing to you!” Visenya asks, and she can’t feel the anger licking up her throat like fire. She will not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry and only allow him to see the anger he has caused.

“I wasn’t really-”

“You were! Jace was the only one old enough to understand that you weren’t. Luke was so young that he didn’t understand why you weren’t there. And there is Joffrey, the son you named after your beloved, who only knows you because of me!” Visenya cuts him off; how dare he say he isn’t her father? She has spent her whole life defending him and making sure his name wasn’t solid, but maybe she shouldn’t have. “Daemon tried to take your place, and I defended you, but you left me!”

“I wanted you to have the best life you could, and Daemon could have given you that,” Laenor tells Visenya, his voice soft, and if anything, it just makes her feel worse. The same soft and gentle voice that would tell her bedtime stories and sing the same songs she sings to her children.

“Well, he didn’t. I resented him and Rhaenyra because I thought they had murdered you,” Visenya tells Laenor before moving closer to him. “I went to war because I wanted nothing more than to join you at sea, but your body isn’t even in that casket,”

“I’m sorry,” Laenor tells Visenya as he tries to calm her down. “I wanted you to have the best life you could, and you have gotten that,”

“I named my son after you,” Visenya tells Laenor, but her words are more to herself. “I tell them stories of you”

“‘You can not tell me that my leaving did not give you chances that you wouldn’t have had if I stayed,” Laenor whispers to Visenya, but she just shakes her head.

“We’ll never know,” Visenya says before she turns her back to Leanor, Aemonds sword weighs heavy in her weak grip.

The idea of killing Laenor pops into her mind. No one would know, and Morghon and Cannibal would be able to stop Seasmoke from hurting her. Everyone thought he was dead, so killing him now wouldn’t mean anything.

“Where are you going?” Laenor asks as he walks closer to Visenya, knowing that Morghon wouldn’t hurt him. Visenya doesn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her face as she breathes heavily.

“Back to Harrenhal,” Visenya answers, and Mroghon seems to understand the hurry she is in because the young but big dragon leans his body closer to the ground as she nears the ropes to climb up onto the dragon. “I am needed, and there is going to be a meeting that I need to be there for, and my children need me,”

Laenor ignores the jag at his leaving, knowing that Visenya has every right to be mad at him. Still, part of him hopes that Visenya is okay with him coming with her and meeting the twins and Aenar. The fact he still needs to inform his father of his return and that fact he is alive weighs heavy in his head.

“Then I will join you,” Laenor tells Visenya; he needs her to know that he will not leave her again or leave to aid another cause.

Visenya stills, her hand resting on Morghon's side as she feels his breath in and out. She doesn’t want to risk him leaving and aiding the Blacks or Greens, but she doesn’t want to see his face, to be reminded that she wasn’t enough for him to stay. Morghon looks away from Seasmoke and towards the sky; Visenya knows that it must be Cannibal flying back to check on her since it hasn’t been an hour, and Aemond wouldn’t be returning.

Visenya takes a deep breath and looks back at Laenor, nodding as she blinks away her tears.

“Cannibal will kill you and Seasmoke if you fly too close to me, and I will not stop him,” Visenya tells Laenor before she tries to climb on Morghon, and the dragon leans closer to the ground to help her.

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songsformonkeys · 3 years

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So um... What's gonna happen to reader and Dave on Valentines day? It would be so cute they finally slept in the same bed or if they kissed for the first time. Or maybe they cuddle at least? 🥺️🥺️🥺️ (i totally headcanon that Dave would remember at least some things after sleeping in the same bed but that's up to you)

VALENTINE’S DAY (dave york x reader)

Part of the Sturdy Home verse. Unbeta’d

You had gotten halfway through the day before you realized just what day it was today. Valentine's Day. It had never been the most celebrated holiday in the York household. But like so many things after the accident, you couldn't help but see it in a slightly different light this year. You'd never felt the need to celebrate Valentine's Day before, because it had just seemed silly with a dedicated day for showing your love for each other when the evidence of that love had always been there. Now, you would have given anything for a day with your husband, to get to love him and spend time with him again. But that was impossible.

If Dave had realized what day it was, he'd made no show of it, for which you were very grateful. You didn't think you would be able to handle being a spectator to Dave's internal struggle to figure out whether he was expected to get a Valentine's Day gift for the wife he didn't remember loving.

He'd made you breakfast, but that was nothing new. He always did on the mornings when he woke up before you. ”Makes me feel useful,” he'd said when you'd told him that it really wasn't his job to feed you all breakfast or to pack the girls' lunches for school. And there had been such desperation in his eyes to let him do something, that you hadn't had the heart to tell him no.

It was Sunday, but you had still decided to get a couple of hours of work done. Your energy was a fickle mistress these days and you had to catch her whenever she appeared, regardless of whether or not that was on a Saturday or Sunday. It still didn't make up for all the weekdays you'd spent crying and getting absolutely no work done.

The girls were playing nicely upstairs and you could hear the muffled sound of the TV in the other room. Dave was probably watching something.

”Hey.”

Or not. You jumped at the sound of his voice behind you and almost knocked over your mug of coffee.

”Jesus, Dave!”

”Sorry...sorry. I just wanted to see if you needed a refill,” he said with a small smile and nodded towards your mug.

”You're not my butler, Dave,” you said and immediately felt like shit as the smile slipped from his face.

”I know. I just... I'll leave you to it, then.”

He’d disappeared the way he'd come before you could figure out how to apologize.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, you and Dave were standing in the hallway and if he had been upset with you earlier he seemed to have gotten over it because now he was smiling again - that soft smile that made your entire insides twist up in painful knots.

”Are you sure you don't mind doing this?” you asked him, not for the first time.

”I don't mind doing this,” he repeated, just like he had the other times you'd asked.

”Because I can cancel if...”

”I have watched them before, you know,” Dave interrupted you. He was right. Dave had looked after the girls plenty of times when you had gone running errands or visited your parents. He was great with them and you knew that you had zero reasons to worry about his babysitting abilities. Yet, there was this tightness across your chest and an unreasonable urge to lock the doors and windows around the safety bubble that was your home. If you were completely honest with yourself, this whole thing might be more about you doubting yourself rather than you doubting Dave.

This thing you were going to would require you to be a normal person for a few hours, and you were terrified that you had completely forgotten how to be just that. Normal. You could fake it, for the amount of time it took to go grocery shopping, but this was for much longer and would require you to actually interact with people.

”Yes, but not for bedtime,” you continued, fully aware you were grasping for straws. Dave was aware too and he reached out to place a hand on your shoulder. You froze and he pulled it back, but let the assuring smile linger.

”You've left us enough money to order pizza for the whole block, and I know where their pajamas and toothbrushes are. They've already picked what movie we're gonna watch, and Full Metal Jacket is a great movie!”

”Dave...” you sighed, feeling a slight tug at the corners of your mouth, despite yourself.

”We'll be fine,” Dave said, and even in his sweatpants and worn t-shirt, there was a certain air of authority about him. That was something you recognized from before. ”And I have your number if I need to contact you. Now go.”

He pulled your coat down and helped you into it. He didn't actually push you out the door but you suspected that was only because you stepped outside on your own.

As you walked towards the taxi waiting on the road, you felt like there was a rubber band attached to your back, straining and wanting to pull you back into the house and back to Dave and the girls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you returned home a few hours later, the house was dark, save for the lights in your bedroom. You must have forgotten to turn them off before you left earlier.

It was later than you had planned to be home, but once the worry had finally settled after leaving, you had actually been able to breathe easier. Pretending to be normal hadn't felt as suffocating as you thought it would.

It was completely quiet inside the house when you stepped through the door. It seemed Dave had gone to bed as well. You hung up your coat and took your shoes off before silently tiptoeing upstairs.

You were on your way to the girls' bedroom, to give them each a kiss goodnight when a soft cough came from inside your bedroom. You frowned slightly and made your way over to the doorway where the dim, warm, light spilled out into the hallway.

What you saw when you looked inside, had your breath catching in your throat.

The girls were both asleep in your bed, hugging a plush toy each, and curled up on either side of an equally fast asleep Dave. He was fully dressed, sitting half-propped up against the headboard, with his chin resting against his chest and his legs crossed at the ankles. There was an open book resting on his stomach.

Seeing them like this was a first but at the same time it was not a first and as the memories assaulted you like daggers thrown at your heart, you had to grip the door to steady yourself.

You hadn't seen him properly asleep since he came back, but now... when he looked like this, he could have been your husband. And you wanted it so badly that it felt like the pain was eating you up from the inside.

You should wake him up and get him to help carry the girls back to their beds, or at least leave them alone and go sleep in Molly's bed for the night. But you were weak and so so tired, and right at this moment, you didn't care if it wasn't real. You wanted your family.

So when you moved, it was towards the bed and not away from it.

There was an open spot next to Alice, where you fit perfectly. She stirred only slightly and turned to hug you when you lied down next to her. The movement set off a small chain reaction and, as Alice curled up against you, Dave's head snapped up with a sharp intake of breath. He looked around but stilled as his eyes landed on you. You watched each other in complete silence, both frozen still, like a human that had just come across a deer in the woods and was afraid to scare it away. Except you weren't sure who was the deer and who was the human in this scenario.

In the end, you were the first one to move, perhaps aided by the two glasses of wine you'd had tonight. Slowly, you reached out to take his hand, where it was resting heavily on the open pages of the book he'd been reading to the girls earlier. Your touch was tentative but Dave didn't pull away, instead spread his fingers so you could slide yours between them. You ran your thumb along his, and he mimicked the movement. His hand felt just as warm and strong as you remembered.

”Will you stay with us?” you asked and you knew, as the words left your mouth, that you weren't just asking about tonight or about the bed.

Dave watched you and his eyes were unreadable in the dim yellow light. This was not the first time you'd asked him to stay and as the seconds ticked by, you braced yourself for the same kind of rejection you had gotten the last time you asked.

When Dave let go of your hand, it took all your willpower to hold back the sob that clawed its way up your throat. But despite no longer holding onto you, Dave didn't move away. Instead, he reached above his head to turn off the light. In the sudden darkness, you heard rather than saw, him shift and move down from the headboard to lie down properly.

There was a moment or two of complete stillness before you felt his fingers brush over your knuckles, as he took your hand again.

He didn't say anything, but as his hand tightened around yours and placed it over his heart, you felt that was answer enough. At least for tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

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volturicangetit · 4 years

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F.V- One soul, two bodies

Summary: You come to Italy with Bella to save Edward. You didn’t expect to meet your mate there, though.

Reqeust: YES/no @bugmanor ( I can’t tag you :( idk why ) : Would you be able to do something with Felix Volturi and the prompts 10 and 11? Maybe the reader is Bella’s human sister and comes with her to save Edward, where she meets Felix, who realises she’s his mate? Thank you :))))

10. “Fuck me” “I might”

11. “I am one second away from losing my fucking shit”

Warnings: cussing

Wordcount: 2604

Sometimes, you thought that you're sister got the brains in the family. You could never compare to her grades and complex subjects seemed like child's play to her. But in moments like these, you knew that she got one, single brain cell. Edward had left Bella since it was too 'dangerous' for her to be around the Cullens. You were sure that she would be in more danger since it's a known fact under the Cullen's enemies that Bella and you know about their vampirism. And now Edward isn't here to keep Bella's impulsive self in check. But you kept your mouth shut since you knew better than to piss off a vampire. You'd rather not have a pair of fangs in your neck. You were there for Bella to pick her up and put her back together after Edward broke her. For months, you heard her painful cries and calmed her down after a nightmare. So when you heard that Edward wanted to expose himself because he thought that Bella was dead, you were pissed. You were even more pissed when Bella asked you to go to Italy with her to save him, but you complied.

So there you find yourself, running after your hysteric sister through a thick crowd in Italy. If a large number of red cloaks around you wasn't making you dizzy, it would be because the sun burning above you. Sun was new to you. In Forks, there was a collective ten days of sun a year, max. "Bella! Wait," you call after her in between heavy pants. You are close in her tail as you both run towards an open door, where Edward is lurking in the shadows. The loud clanging of the curch's bells egos through the square. Kind of ironic for there to be a church next to a castle full of vampires. Bella jumps over the small stone wall around the fountain and runs through it. You groan before following her through the water. You jump out of it on the other side, feeling the water squishing in your now soaked shoes. Bella jumps onto Edward and pulls him back right at the last second, saving him from public exposure. They both stumble back into the castle as Edward wraps his arms around Bella. You follow them into the castle and quickly close the door behind you, sealing Edward away from the sunlight. You can hear Edward and Bella exchanging some emotional words but you don't listen to them, more occupied with catching your breath. You lean against the cool wall with your back as you let your head fall back against it. The stone feels like ice cubes against your burning skin but in a good way. You are too caught up in calming yourself down that you don't notice the two men entering the hallway until Edward starts to talk to them. "I won't be needing your services after all, gentleman," Edward cool voice says.

You look up at the two men. One has slightly curly hair and is holding one hand behind his back while the other removes a cape, that they both are wearing, from his head. The other is terrifyingly tall. From his red eyes that keep staring at you to the muscles protruding from under his skin, everything about his screams danger. Yet something in you feels the need to run up to his and hug him. You quickly shake that feeling of you thought, because you're sure that he would rip you in half if you did that. "Aro wants to speak with you again," the tall man says without taking his eyes off you. Edward quickly looks at Bella before looking back at the men. "No rules were broken," Edward huffs.

"None the less, we should take this conversation to a more appropriate venue," the smaller man says. He has a slight accent, one that the taller man doesn't have. The giant finally takes his eyes off you and now looks at Edward and Bella who are clinging onto each other for dear life. You push yourself off the wall to stand up straight, whipping some of the dust of the back of your pants. "Fine," Edward says.

"Bella and Y/n, why don't you go enjoy the rest of the festival," he states. Bella looks at you with big eyes. You nod, walking towards Bella and grabbing ahold of her hand. "They come with us," the giant says darkly. His tone sends shivers down your spine and not the good ones. Edward shakes his head, pulling Bella back with him and accidentally pushing you of her. You stand there awkwardly. "No, you can go to hell,". You have to hold in a giggle. O, he'll go to hell alright.

As if on cue, Alice pushing open a door, breaking the lock while doing so. She takes her big sunglasses off. You recognize the pair, you bought them for her as a "thanks-for-putting-up-with-Bella's-ass-for-a-month" gift. She hasn't taken them off since. Her hands go of the rip the bright red shawl of her hair. "Come on guys," she says as she makes her way over to you. "It's a festival. You wouldn't want to make a scene.". The tall man glares daggers at her. You can almost feel his hatred towards the Cullens. "We wouldn't," he says through clenched teeth.

From behind him, you can see a small figure walking towards you. A pile of blond hair forms a bun at the back of her head, a bit of it sticking up and being visible from the front. She's wearing the same cloak as the two men are, just a smaller one. "Enough," she says coldly as she pulls the cloak off her head. What do these vampires have with putting stuff on their head? Edward quickly looks down, so does Alice. Bella looks at you with panic in her eyes to which you simply shrug. "Jane," Edward says quietly as he pulls Bella behind him a bit more. Him, Bella and Alice are all standing very close to each other while you are standing by yourself of to the side. The distance between you is impossible to go unnoticed to you. You wrap your arms around yourself as a form of comfort while you stare right into the blond girls' eyes. "Aro sent me to see what was taking so long.". Her voice sounds very nasally, almost like she has a cold. She glances between the two men who she is now standing in the middle of. Her short height only emphasises how tall the man who won't stop staring at you is. She quickly turns on her heels. Edward, Bella and Alice eclectically follow behind her. "Just do what she says," Alice says. You pass the two men as you follow behind your sisters. The tall man glances down at you. "Okay, creep," you say under your breath. The man's eyes grow big. Fuck, he could hear you. The tall man takes a couple of quick strides to catch up with Edward and push a red robe into his hands.

You all walk down the halls until there is a dark staircase going down, into which the blond girls go. This is how you are going to die. In a dark basement by vampire's who'll use you like you're a fucking Capri sun. "Don't be scared," you hear Edward says to Bella. Don't be scared. How the fuck are you not supposed to be scared when your socks and shoes are wet while you're in a creepy castle filled with human blood-drinking vampire. "Are you?" Bella says. "No,". The blond girl scoffs at this. Who do you already like these three vampires more than Edward even though they're the human killing ones? An elevator opens up. "I'm not going into that thing with them," you say as you stand still before the doors. You point at the three vampires who are now standing in the elevator along with Edward, Bella and Alice. "No offence, I just don't feel like going into a small room with five vampires.".

Alice steps out of the elevator and drags you into it. You struggle but your strength is nothing compared to her's. The doors close and you couldn't be more uncomfortable. The silence that hangs over you all and the fact that your socks and shoes are still soaked doesn't help with it either. The doors open again and you quickly walk out of the elevator. Jane walks past you to lead the way. You see a woman sitting at a desk. She says something in Italian, probably a greeting, but you can't understand what she says. She still has normal, human coloured eyes and her cheeks still have a blush to them. "Is she human?" Bella asks.

"Yes," Edward says. Jane turns another corner as you follow behind her. You can still feel the tall man's eyes staring into your skull. "Does she know?". You try to tune out of Bella and Edward's conversation. You don't care about if the women are human or not, you care about making it out of here with a beating heart. "She wants to be..." Bella trails off. "And so she will be," the men with the accents says. Them turning someone seems as unlikely as Bella making a smart decision since their hatred towards humans is very well known.

"For dessert," the blond says. O yeah, you're definitely going to die. She pushes two dark doors open, revealing a surprisingly light and clean room. On a plateau or three thrones seated, a man with long hair sitting in each. All have a different hair colour though. Carlisle told you about them. Aro, Marcus and Caius. "Sister," a boy who looks to be a bit younger than you says. "I send you out to get one and you bring back two. And two halves. Clever girl.". You scoff at his words. Almost nice to be treated you a half of a person. The raven-haired man stands up.

"What a happy surprise," he says with open arms. "Bella is alive after all.". He clasped his hands together in front of his chest. A creepy smile is glued onto his face as he looks over you all. Behind him is sitting a brunette, Marcus, who is staring at the wall sadly. You heard the story about his wife. You always have found it tragical. The blond, Caius, is looking at you with an angry face. He doesn't like having the Cullens or humans around him. "Isn't that wonderful," Aro says, dragging out every word a bit. He walks over to where you are standing. "I love a happy ending,". He grabs Edwards hand out of Bella's and looks up at his face. His gift, Carlisle also told you about that. "They are so rare," he says sadly. His comment is clearly pointed at Marcus who immediately looks down at his shoes. Aro looks over Edward at the tall man standing there.

"Un'anima in due corpi," he says he lets go of Edward's hand and rushes over to the men. It happens so fast that he is there in a flash. He grabs the tall man's hand as his eyes are focused on you. "Felix has found is mate," he says before rushing over to you. He tries to grab your hand but you shake your head and step back from him, clutching your hands over your chest. "I'd rather not have you touch me, thank you very much," you say in a polite tone. His smile grows a little.

"This one has manners," he says before shooting Bella a glare. "Roasted," you mumble under your breath as you quickly look over at Bella who’s cheeks are now red. Aro holds his hand out to you again. "Would you please be so kind?" he asks. You nod, slowly laying your hand in his. The moment your skin touches his, you can feel him entering your mind. It's a weird and fuzzy feeling. You can feel him scanning through your mind. He lets out a soft chuckle.

Aro lets go of your hand before he makes his way to his throne again, sitting down in it. "Can I please ask what mates are? Because I'm kind of in the dark here," you ask. Caius rolls his eyes and looks the other way, not wanting to be bothered by humans. A smile is now on Marcus's face as he at the invisible red line connecting you to Felix. "A soul split in half, divided over two bodies. You are meant to be," he says in a raspy voice. You nod and look at Bella with worry in your eyes. Apparently, the Swan's had something for vampires. "Cool, great," you say. "I'm sharing a soul with a vampire...Fuck me!" you exclaim.

"I might," you hear Felix say behind you. This was apparently the last straw for Edward, who now runs up to Felix and throws a punch at him. The man with the accent runs over to Alice and holds a hand around her throat to keep her in place as Felix and Edward fight. You know it's bad, but you are secretly rooting for Felix and hoping for him to hit Edward a couple of times as payback for how he made Bella feel. The fight goes so fast that you can't even comprehend what's happening until Felix has both hands around Edward's head who is now on his knees in front of the thrones. Bella is shaking and running her hands through her hands like a manic. Her mouth opens like a fish but no words come out. "Stop!" you yell.

You take a couple of step towards Felix and Edward. You can see Felix's grip on Edward loosening. "Let him go and I'll...I'll do 'mate' stuff with you. Okay? Just don't-don't hurt him," you say. You pluck at the hem of your shirt from the nerves. Felix looks at Aro who gives him a condescending nod. Felix lets Edward go and is in front of you in the blink of an eye. You look up at him. He is handsome and hot. And extremely terrifying. You gulp down your fears as you shot him a smile. "Listen, my shoes are soaking, I think I just had a minor heart attack and I think I just heard someone being murdered down the hall. Basically, I am one second away from losing my fucking shit so you better listen up.". Felix nods, bending down slightly to be more on your level. The action brings a soft smile to your face.

"I'll come with you and do what you want but if I find out that you hurt my sister or the Cullens I will kill you. I don't know how to do that yet but I'll find it our really soon.". Felix nods, mumbling a soft 'okay'. Aro's voice causes Felix to quickly stand beside you and straighten up.

"Felix, you and young Y/n can take some time to...get to know each other," Aro says. Felix grabs your hand softly and guides you out of the throne room after saying his thank you's. You shake as he starts to pull you along with him. Is he going to kill you? "Do you have clothes with you?" he asks. You shake your head quickly, not trusting your voice at the moment. He sighs before shooting you a smile. "Then we'll have to go shopping because you'll be living here from now on.". O God, what did you get yourself into?

TWILIGHT TAGLIST:

@scuzmunkie @thanossexual @prettyinblack231 @kpopgirlbtssvt @cullens-stuff @rexburn12

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vampiric-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Unrequited

Jasper x Reader

Summary: You had been happy to quietly like Jasper from a distance. But when he and the Cullens start acting stranger than usual, you begin wondering if there’s more to it.

Word Count: 2,372

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @eggmettcullen @scuzmunkie

A/N: Felt cheeky and wrote something after a year and a half of hiatus that nobody asked for. Sorry not sorry. Might do a part 2?

It had crept up on you. It wasn’t something you wanted.

“I’ll go fir-” you started, as your right hand brushed against your English partner’s. The pen between you rolled off the top of the desk as you jolted from his icy touch. Jasper Hale’s cautious eyes met yours. You suddenly grew conscious of every part of your body and how it might appear to him. Your mouth dried up.

From that touch, those feelings manifested in your fingers; a lingering chill that had lasted for hours. From then, your throat tightened whenever you spoke to him. You stuttered between words, and the mere thought of meeting his honeycomb gaze made you feel sick. Reminiscing that first graze of physical contact and back to your first meeting with him, you accepted that those feelings had always lived within you; dormant and waiting. When hadn’t you liked Jasper?

What drew you to him wasn’t something you could pinpoint, at least nothing that wasn’t shallow. You hardly knew him and you only spoke to each other in English class when you had to. Even then, it was a routine ‘hey, how are you today’ and little more unless you were paired together for a learning task.

“… the dance.” That was all your friends had been talking about and it was still months away.

“I’m asking him to the dance,” Jason was hyping himself up, “I’m just going to do it.”

You had every intention of giving him a slap on the back before he went to lay his heart on the line. But all it took was the sight of Jasper crossing the asphalt with some papers in his hand to make you cease and admire him instead. Sometimes you just wanted to march over to him and confess your feelings.

“Oh shit, that’s not good.”

You snapped out of your lover’s trance and looked at Eric’s face flushed with uncertainty as Jason dropped his head. Rejection. He was biting his lip on his way back to your group. Every time you thought you could be gather courage and tell Jasper how you felt, you saw somebody else receive decline from their own attempt. The world around you gave constant reminders to stay in line. This is what will happen to you if you try to break them up.

“He wants to go with Angela.”

Jason’s obstacle was a cute girl with glasses, and yours was Alice Cullen. Dressed immaculately in designer clothing, Jasper’s girlfriend was not somebody you wanted to rival for his affection. Everything about her was perfect and polished and a clear winner against the likes of anyone who stood beside her. How could he ever look at you, let alone accept you?

However, there didn’t seem to be any sign of Alice today. Or Emmett. Edward and Rosalie were standing by the bottom of the stairs leading up to the school. Jasper descended them, his hands now empty and stuffed in his pockets. As your group comforted Jason, you felt a burning stare on your back; and when you turned around, you met the perturbed frown of Edward Cullen.

Jasper sat beside you. He had joined the class seven minutes late; citing to Mr. Evans that there was a minor family issue. He didn’t greet you as he took his seat; he didn’t pull out any pens or open an exercise book. Something was wrong. An unkind corner of your mind hoped he had broken up with Alice and that was why she wasn’t at school today; or at least that they were having relationship problems. You shook the nasty thought away, not noticing that you had shaken your head until his voice pierced through you. “Are you okay?”

His voice sounded strained, but his expectant gaze pulled at you. Your tongue felt like it had doubled in size. “I… um.”

“Excuse me, is my teaching disrupting your conversation?” Mr. Evans was frowning at you both, and a few classmates snickered.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Evans.” Jasper’s voice was smoother. “I was asking (Y/N) something that I should have saved for later.”

Mr. Evans crossed his arms. “Indeed.”

Both of you were silent. It wasn’t until the bell rang when Jasper started a rare non-essential conversation with you. “What are you doing this weekend?”

Your pulse quickened. Had you somehow intrigued him? You took a shaky breath and focused your energy on not stammering this time. Sound available. “Nothing, why?”

Was he actually going to ask to see you outside of class? You fought to reign in the blush that threatened to give you away. He was smiling. “Oh, the rest of my family are going camping again.”

You hung onto his pause for dear life. It lasted only for a split second, but it was enough time for you to imagine a study date at his place. Sitting side by side, perhaps a little too close, so that your arms would brush. Growing tired of studying and resting your head on his shoulder. Jasper craning his neck lower so his face was close enough to yours that you could feel his breath on your face. A moment of weakness as thoughts of his absent girlfriend slipped away as his lips found yours…

His next sentence cut through you.

“So, Alice and I will have the entire house to ourselves again, which is always a pleasurable time.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. Was he still smiling? Why did he feel the need to add that second part? Was he bragging to you?

“S-sounds fun for you guys…”

“Yeah! Our house is always so packed so it’ll be nice to have some alone time.”

Why was he suddenly alluding to his physical relationship with Alice? Why was he bothering to talk to you at all?

For the following week, Jasper interacted with you more and more. Yet each interaction left you with a hole in your chest. How could something you had wanted for so long turn out to be so awful?

“Our anniversary is coming up so my parents helped me book a romantic weekend away for Alice and I.”

“Even my sister gave Alice a gift for our anniversary. Our family just love us together. They’re always saying how perfect we are for each other and that they couldn’t imagine us with anyone else.”

“Alice and I are skipping school tomorrow for a date.”

Awkward silences turned into deafening info dumps detailing his adoration for his girlfriend; daily reminders that you had no hope of ever being with him and that his family would hate you for hurting Alice if you did. By the time Monday had rolled back around, your light was fading. Jasper had gone from your secret obsession to the last person you needed to see. You dreaded the last class of the day where he’d force you to listen to more of what you least wanted to hear.

Perhaps it was better this way. Each new insight to his relationship made you want to stay further away. Maybe you liked the idea of Jasper more than Jasper himself. Still, if your disillusion stemmed from his relationship, perhaps you’d be reacquainted with your earlier passion for him. A hard bump on your left arm pulled you away from your thoughts.

“Sorry-” you started apologising to Edward Cullen, who you had collided with. You felt hot under his burning gaze. It was a knowing look, one that was brimming with disapproval. Saying nothing, Edward brushed past you in the direction he came from; other students jumping out of his way as he charged through the crowd.

In the cafeteria, the aura surrounding the Cullen’s table was inconsistent. Throughout lunch, you caught each of them watching you one by one. Rosalie’s hostile eyes sent daggers through you, while Emmett seemed apologetic—but not for his girlfriend’s behaviour. An overwhelming sense of dread washed through your body, making you shudder. Edward’s look hadn’t changed since your exchange in the corridor. His gaze was unsettling. It was as though you were under his microscope and he could see everything about you. Had Jasper caught on to you crush on him and told his family? You found your answer when you locked eyes with Alice, whose devastation was clear on her smooth features. He had definitely figured it out, then. Jasper didn’t look at you once. Alice looked at you the most. Up and down. Left to right. She was frowning, but her forehead didn’t wrinkle, and she suddenly seemed miles away.

“I guess they don’t appreciate the threat of an outsider?” Jason glanced at their table and then back at you. “At least I’m not the only one being sidelined.”

“It’s not like I broadcasted it all over school. How did they even find out?” A well of anxiety formed within you. By the second it grew darker and deeper, blacker and blacker, and you were in danger of slipping in and being consumed by it.

“Do you want an answer?”

“No. Not really.”

And just like that, Jasper’s entire demeanour changed for a second time. His incessant mentions of his girlfriend turned into a bitter distance in which he ignored you entirely. Two more days passed. Your self-worth was diminishing. How could your crush on him be such an insult? Were you so dreadful that he was this repulsed by you?

He was about to walk through the classroom door when you stalked over to him and pushed him back out and to the side of the corridor. His voice interrupted you before you could even speak. “I know you have feelings for me, (Y/N). You don’t have to say anything. But I’m in love with Alice. I love Alice. Not you. I will never leave her for you so you need to accept that and stay away from me.”

“I didn’t mean to fall for you like this. I’m trying to let it go, but none of this gives you the right to be so rude all the time!” Hot tears burned your cheeks as they fell. “I know you won’t leave Alice! I never asked you to! But what is so disgusting about me that is making you treat me like this?”

“It’s not like you’re entirely innocent, (Y/N). If it remained the innocent crush it once was, I could accept it. But fantasising about us cheating behind my girlfriend’s back? Wishing every day that she and I would break up for your benefit? That’s selfish.”

Bile rose in your throat. He was right. There was something worth his repulsion. You should have apologised and promised to leave him alone. You wanted to tell Jasper that you never wanted things to get so out of hand. But you said, “What, so you read minds now?”

His hesitation was brief, but you noticed it. The subtle way his citrine eyes widened as those words left your mouth made you wonder if you had an edge you didn’t recognise. As awful as your thoughts about him and Alice were, how had he known about them? “You still haven’t denied it, (Y/N). Isn’t that what most people who love someone unattainable think?”

“You don’t know a thing about what I think.”

“I know a lot more than you’d expect me to and-” Before you had time to blink, Edward’s hand clapped on Jasper’s shoulder.

“What he means to say is that he—we—don’t appreciate your meddling in his relationship,” said Edward.

You gritted your teeth. “I haven’t meddled! I haven’t said a word! Who do you think you are, with your whole family death-staring me? With all these assumptions about my thoughts and intentions?” Your volume grew louder. People were staring and whispering to each other.

“Regardless of the decisions that have and haven’t been made, I think it would be best for everybody if you and Jasper stayed away from each other from now.” A strange, soothing sensation surrounded you. Your broken, shaky breaths grew steady. You unclenched your jaw and your fists, and you realised that Edward’s suggestion was best for everyone.

“But we sit together in English. Mr. Evans is very fond of his seating chart.” The sharpness had left your voice.

“I’ll change my classes.” Jasper still sounded uncomfortable; he still didn’t look at you.

“Fine.” His dismissal of you caused the embers of your anger to spark and reignite, but it felt like somebody was throwing water on them. You cooled back down.

The first week with an empty space beside you hurt the most. Knowing it wasn’t because of a camping trip, or even a date with his girlfriend; but that he no longer wanted anything to do with you made you feel faint. You would never brush his hand with yours again or feel the lingering touch of his alabaster skin. He would never smile at you, or greet you, or ask about your day—even if it was only to be polite.

But something niggled in the back of your mind, and over time it bothered you more than losing Jasper’s acquaintanceship. How were they so right about my imagination? How did they figure things out so quickly? You had told no one about how you wished Jasper would abandon Alice and leap into your arms instead. It was a huge assumption on which to base that level of animosity and disdain.

Something was definitely off about all this; and if you had to sacrifice even your feelings for Jasper, you at least wanted to figure out how the Cullens were so on the mark. A stupid idea popped into your brain, one that was ridiculous—but you were so worn down that you allowed this concept to spread. What if, somehow, your thoughts weren’t safe?

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too-scared-to-do-this · 3 years

Text

Of the Devil’s head

Chapter five - Mushy brains and heartbeat flairs

Sander’s side fanfiction

Wordcount: 1340

Ships: still just prinxiety

TW: well mentions of blood, wooziness, cursing, mentions of various forms of ridiculous torture. I think that should be all. let me know if I missed any :)

Summary of the whole story: They say, the one that wears the crown rules all - the living, the dead, the walking, the crawling, the rooted, the sane and the mad. They say, once you own the crown, you become the most powerful being on Earth and beyond. Roman’s stolen bigger things - a measly little crown won’t present a problem, even if he has to steel it straight off of the devils head!

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Chapter five - Mushy brains and heartbeat flairs

Roman was too preoccupied with senseless babbling to notice the guard coming back. He didn’t even notice when the keys chimed as the cell got unlocked. What he did notice though was when the bars, he was heavily leaning on, succumbed to his weight.

Well not exactly, but the thief has lost a lot of blood. He fell forward, landing on his hands and knees. “Wow… the ground is very hard…” he mumbled.

Derius look at his sibling with a weirded-out expression. “Is it good?”

Murede shrugged. “How should I know.” And grabbed a babbling Ro under his arms.

Somewhere in his fogy brain he knew this was bad. He knew this demon figure was trying to take him somewhere. So he put all his effort into grounding his feet. Which just ended up in him being dragged out of there. He pulled on his arms, squirming as much as his injuries let him. “Where are you taking me?” he heard himself ask.

Nobody answered.

“Let- go of me!” he tried, tossing in their grip. But the guards didn’t even flinch. So Roman was either extremely weak at the moment, or they were too strong. He opted for the first one. (No demon is stronger the Roman.)

“I want to talk to your higher-ups!” he screamed in a final attempt to free himself. Glaring daggers at the pair of siblings.

“You’re in luck.” a booming voice cut through his struggles. Both guards stopped and Roman lifted his head to see who had spoken. “Here I am.”

Virgil sat on his throne, sprawled out as always. His daggered staff in one hand and the crown proudly on his head. A deadly gleam in his mismatched eyes and the smirk on his face.

Roman’s mind went completely blank. “Woah…Pretty boy….” he mumbled.

Wait! Did he actually say that out loud?!

Judging by the complete and utter shock written on the Devil’s face, he guessed yes.

Virgil cleared his head, ignoring the way his heartbeat flared again and forced his expression back into that cool smirk. He had a part to play. “So you’re the one who dared to come down to Hell, hah?”

He got up from his throne and walked over to them, circling Roman. Like a vulture, he eyed his pray. “You don’t seem strong. Nor are good at stealth, apparently. And your brain…” he lifted Ro’s chin with his fingers. “I can’t tell if it’s really that mushy or if that’s just from the fall.” he let go.

Roman watched in awe, as his captor walked around him, criticizing him. Why didn’t anybody warn him the Devil was this hot?

Virgil made one more circle and stopped directly in front of the thief. “Tell me… why did you come here?”

Oh right…! Roman was here for something! Something about steeling -

He felt himself lean forward, hanging from the guards’ arms, face inches from the head-demon. And looked him dead in the eye. “To steel your heart.” he grinned, as charming as ever. (Or at least he hoped so.)

The king’s eyes went wide. Some weird eek-ing noise left his mouth and he stepped back. And was the haze messing with Roman’s mind again or was that blush on his face?

“My-my heart?!” the Devil gulped, staring at the stranger. How dare he-

Meanwhile Remi in the back by the throne was losing his shit! “Pffff… This is priceless!”

“Uuuuhum…” Roman swayed a little, woopy smile hanging from his lips. “You have very pretty eyes…”

It seemed like the thief’s self-control was barely holding. With his permanent filter off, his mouth was free to say whatever it desired. Even if on the expense of his ego. But Roman’s brain was getting too fogged up again to notice any of this.

“Well I-“ the crowned one stuttered. “I-“

“Ow…” the thief mumbled suddenly, loosing interest in everything around him. “My head hurts…”

“Are they-“ Virgil looked back at Remi, completely uncomfortable. The mind reader wasn’t much of a help, laughing his ass of somewhere in the corner. “Why are they-“ he looked back at the guards completely helpless.

“I want to go home…” the intruder wined again.

The guards shrugged just as much clueless as their leader. “I think it might have lost too much blood for its Human system to compensate in such a small amount of time.”

Yeah… Looking at the poor babbling fool, Virgil could see where they were coming from. Tears and scratches everywhere. Knees and hands scraped. Bandage on his head. Clothes dirty and coated with blood.

His eyes softened looking at the clueless mortal. “Why did you come here?”

“Hm?” Ro jerked his head up smiling dopy-ly. “To steel your heart silly.” he giggled.

Yap. He was completely gone.

“Yeah, right.” the king nodded, looking away. And that was certainly not blush on his face!

He looked at the guards, stern expression in place. “Take him to my suit. Give him a change of clothe and show him the shower.”

“Yes sir.” they nodded and dragged a half-conscious Roman away. He was still babbling on about how he’s going to win over that hot demon king and make him his!

Virgil let out a long sigh.

“Uuuuuuuuh!!! What’chu gonna do with it, babe? Tear it limb to limb? Fuck it senseless and then burn it alive? Uuuh! I know! Make it feel suffer endlessly and then throw it into the pit while still alive!” Remi run up to him completely giddy with energy. “And theeen maybeee…. we couldgogetthatStarbucks?”

The Devil looked back at him with a questioning look. “Shut you hole, dimwit! And you won’t get your coffee!”

“Satan damn it! I hate Hell!”

“Everybody hates Hell. That’s why we’re all stuck here.”

Roman was taken into a spacious room, shown to a shower and given clean clothes. To say he was back to normal after the shower would be a major over-statement, but he did feel a bit better. Enough to finally realize he was in the Devils bedroom!

What was the embodiment-of-all-evil planning to do with him? And oh god! What the hell was Roman thinking, babbling all that stuff!

Oh god! He surely made a fool of himself…

What is he thinking! He should be searching for an escape! He is about to be killed!

But these clothes are so soft… He has never in his life seen fabric like this… And the bed was so comfortable…

Surely the king wouldn’t get back until later. He’ll just close his eyes for a second…

Somewhere in the back of his mind the red alarm was going off. This wasn’t safe. This was stupid. This was dangerous! But the fog pushed drowned all that out.

And Roman fall asleep.

Virgil found him like that, sleeping soundly in his giant bed. He watched as the Liveling turned in a restless sleep and mumbled something incoherent.

He sighed. This creature was so strange. Everybody usually ran the moment they saw him - well that was maybe ‘cuz they saw him in his demon form, but let’s leave that aside. This measly little Human stayed.

It even dared to look him in the eyes! “Pf…” he shook his head slightly. “You came to steel my heart, hah?”

“Sad to say I don’t have one. No one in hell does. It’s a Mortal thing.” he shrugged slightly, walking over to the bed. Sitting on the corner he watched his sleeping prisoner.

His brown brows were furrowed, hair still wet and tousled from the shower. He had sharp features. Sharp and worn. Thousands of tiny little scars covered his skin, the slope of his nose.

Virgil found himself entranced by the creature laying in front of him.

To steel my heart. Right… He snickered to himself. “What will I do with you?”

And those were the words Roman awoke to. Blinking his sleepiness away, he opened his eyes. And he found himself staring into two mismatched eyes. To very frightened and caught of guard mismatched eyes.

Shit.

------------------------------------------

Just imagine both of them thinking it at the same time.

I’m sorry if my jumping from viewpoint to viewpoint is confusing. I tried to make it as little confusing as possible, but it’s still kinda messy.

I have a question - would you like longer chapters or is this enough? ‘Cus like I know I’d like to finish in under 10 chapters, but if I’ll continue this way I probably won’t...

Let me know, okay :3

I really hope you liked it, though!

Oh and, guess what! Now apparently I have a tag-list! XD

So: Tag-list:

@romano-hottopic

@alice-only-me

#of the devil's head #Virgil the king of hell #Roman the thief #demon/thief au #prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remi aka sleep #ts remi #ts virgil #ts roman #thomas sanders #Sander's sides #anxiety sanders #creativity sanders #sleep sanders #what else should I tag?

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cowboisadness · 3 years

Text

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x F!OC} Chapter 15

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: Canon typical violence but we finally get to see some action!!

.....

The parlour wasn’t as busy as I expected. The tables and booths accommodating a few men each, all of them drinking and chatting amongst themselves after a day of hard work. I had a feeling that was soon about to change.

Hosea called out for the attention of the room, introducing himself as Melvin and Arthur, who was behind the bar at this point still looking sour, as his brother.

The whole space erupted into cheers at the mention of free drinks for the next thirty minutes. Every man and his dog now making their way to the bar at the mention of something too good to be true.

“Don’t get him mad, though. His momma made him mad and we buried her. Poor thing.”

I stood beside the bar, welcoming men over with a smile and hoped no one wondered why these strangers are just giving away shine. Not suspicious at all.

Hosea called for the music to continue loud and clear and Arthur began pouring for the punters.

Hosea made his rounds, encouraging them to drink more with his cheery smile and rousing words.

Shot after shot was poured. The reserved chatter now nothing but a memory to be replaced by blaring laughter and men slowly but surely losing their feet.

These folks will regret this by morning, that’s if they even remember what happened but it sure was easy money for us.

“You make this fine shine, Miss?” A man sneaked up beside me at the bar, his words starting to slur.

“It’s our pleasure, sir. Would you like another glass?”

Might as well go along with it “I had a hand in it for sure.” I smiled at him, leaning against the bar with one arm propped up upon it.

“Well, it is mighty kind of you to give it out like this.”

“Hmm, I sure would like a taste. Ain’t nothing better than a workin’ woman that likes to g-get her hands dirty.” He shot a toothy grin and leaned in towards me placing a hand on my arm that was at my side. I shook him off and moved back slightly but he wouldn’t give up, taking a step forward and replacing his hand, this time on my hip trying in his drunken state to pull me towards him.

Grabbing onto his arm I pulled him off, staring straight into his bloodshot eyes.

“I see you have met our dear Alice. Ain’t she something?” Hosea smiled at the man

“Touch me again and that glass will be imbedded into your face,” His brows furrowed in confusion but with the sudden crinkle around his eyes, he took it as a challenge.

Before either of us could say another word, Hosea came up beside us, replacing my hand with his and dropping the man’s arm to his side.

“S-she sure is. She your sister?”

“Sister-in-Law.” Hosea kept his smile but turned his gaze to behind the bar, me and the stranger following his eye-line. The three of us looking towards Arthur, now ceased his pouring and glaring daggers right at our new friend. I felt my cheeks begin to heat up but couldn’t stop the grin from seeing the man's reaction to this new information. His head snapped back to Hosea with a dumbfounded look. Hosea just nodded slowly.

“I’d be careful if I was you. She’s the only one he listens to and she just needs to give the word.” Hosea gave a beaming smile with his threat. Mess with her and you will have a man twice your size and with a willing thirst for violence that would do anything for his wife to deal with.

The drunkard was definitely uneasy on his feet now, his head bowed down with a quiet nod he took himself and his empty glass away from the bar.

Thirty minutes had been and gone, the quietness of the night now upon us but the parlour was as lively as it has probably ever been. Men dancing with each other like lovers weaving through tables and fallen chairs. The piano man with one leg perched upon the stool playing like it was the only thing keeping him breathing. One man passed out at the bar, another on the stairs up to the second level. Laughter and shouts bordering on deafening that you couldn’t hear yourself think. A fight was breaking out on the upper floor, one man being tossed by the other. It was chaos.

The merriment amongst these men was soon halted at the opening of the doors. The men entering with their weapons drawn brought silence. All eyes on them, some putting their hands in the air.

Hosea began speaking from his spot on the stairs looking down at the unwelcome visitors.

“It’s the Lemoyne Raiders.” I heard one man say.

Never heard of them. This another gang we are enemies with? I looked over to Arthur, he ushering me to get behind the bar with him.

“Good evening, gentlemen. Quiet libation?”

“You,” the frontman said, pointing his pistol at Hosea.

“Me?”

“You’re the bastards who stole the liquor we was gonna buy.”

“Gentlemen, we’re in advertising, come on in have a drink.”

“That’s our goddamn liquor!” The man shouted, anger brewing.

“An honest mistake”

“Boys, get ‘em!”

With that everyone began running for cover or an exit. Arthur pulled me down to cover behind the bar, hat and pipe now nowhere to be seen and both his weapons in hand. Telling me to get my gun, stay at his side and shoot if I have too.

I just nodded wildly and fumbled at my side. Bringing the gun up level with my chest with a shaky finger hovering over the trigger and watching ahead of me.

Upstairs was a bombardment of bullets, glass and broken wood. Keeping my gun in front of me ready to pull the trigger if anyone got insight.

Shots ran out between the raiders and Arthur and Hosea. Bottles shattering above the bar and glass raining down as shots thankfully missed their mark.

I realised I had a tightening grip around Arthurs’s leg when he pulled away, pulling me up beside him and over the bar towards the stairs. Keeping me behind him as he shot anyone coming through the door.

He kept me behind him, shielding me from the onslaught, men dropping all around us.

Arthurs steady hand on my back pulls me out of my sudden hesitation, prompting me to climb over and jump down. Landing with a thud in the back of the wagon and my knees throbbing with the hard contact.

“Arthur help!” Hosea calls out from the other side, in battle with another man. I raised my pistol without thinking but before I could think of my aim the man dropped, his head nothing but a spray of blood and tissue.

We made our way towards Hosea who was calling us out to follow. Arthur with his back turned facing the doors now behind us. The doors ahead, beyond the poker table, opened to a man aiming straight at Hosea.

I didn't hesitate, I couldn’t. My body in flight mode but my brain decided on fight. I shot. Two rounds hitting the mark causing him to falter and stagger back. Hosea turned at that, finishing him off with a shot to the head.

Arthur pushed me forward from where I was rooted, urging me to keep moving no matter what.

We make it out onto the balcony, Hosea already down and on the wagon.

Arthur followed right behind me not even pausing before climbing up to the front.

We were maybe a few steps into the safety of the woods when he broke the silence.

Hosea spurred the horses to move as fast as possible to get out of there as more raiders came out of the shadows. Hosea passing me one of the rifles that were at his side.

Arthur didn't hesitate, aiming and taking down three men within seconds like he was in some kind of trance.

My heart was in my throat, trying to steady my breathing as I aimed over the side of the wagon to shoot at those getting closer. Not like I was doing a grand job of it but I was able to hold them off while Arthur finished them off.

They kept coming as we travelled further out of the shitty little town. One bullet hit the few bottles of shine left at my side erupting them into flames. The intense heat meeting my skin had me pushing myself up and away but I was being dragged back too. We couldn’t stop for a moment so I quickly reloaded with whatever ammo I had left in my shirt pocket and started shooting again. A few men falling off their horses at my doing.

It began to quiet, the last few stragglers being dealt with swiftly before we turned off the road. My and Arthur left Hosea to take whatever was left of the liquor back to Mrs Baraithwaite as a peace offering, leaving me and Arthur to walk back to camp through the cover of the trees.

“You alright? Sorry about that whole mess, I shouldn’t have let you come with us.”

“I’m fine. Wasn’t like I wasn’t expecting something to happen, but almost being on fire was a surprise.” I giggled sheepishly. He stopped me then pulling on my arm “Shit i - you sure you’re not hurt?” He checked my arm and down my side, looking for any signs of burns.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’d say if I wasn’t.” I smiled at his concern, looking at him then. His eyes met mine with one of concern but that soon melted away once he realised I was truly okay.

After a few moments, he looked down, his trusty hat now covering his face. His hand still on my arm.

“Good shootin’ by the way.”

“Well, I had a good teacher. Could do with a few more lessons I believe.”

“Give me a time and place darling,” he said as he lifted his gaze from his feet and back to me

I beamed up at him then, seeing something in his eyes I couldn’t quite place. I thought back to our last shooting lesson. His hand on me, his breath fanning over the back of my neck. What almost happened as we sat under the shade of the tree. I could feel the relentless wings of the butterflies in my stomach as I looked up at him then, his hand still on me that seemed to burn my skin more than fire.

Might as well take my chance.

“I don’t say it enough but...thank you...for what you have done for me. I don’t know where I would be without you and - you and your kindness means the world to me.” I stood up on my toes then, reaching to place a kiss on his cheek, lingering longer than necessary. My hand now gripping his arm holding me and my free hand coming up to cup his other cheek before letting go.

I was ready to let that be that and to walk back to camp. But the look in his eyes when I didn’t move away had me frozen in place. My breath becoming shallow and my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. Calculating our next move.

My breath hitching as I felt his free hand on my waist.

Then his lips were on mine. Kissing with such hunger that our grip tightening on each other, like we were running out of time. But time was nothing but a distant idea at that moment.

@kashasenpai

#hang em high #hang em high fic #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x fem oc #arthur morgan fic #rdr2 #rdr2 fic #arthur morgan

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fanficshiddles · 4 years

Text

Trapped During Lockdown, One shot

Alice, a SHIELD agent is sent to look after a prisoner in isolation during the lockdown... but when she gets there, the prisoner is loose and has other ideas for how they are going to spend their time together.

WARNINGS: Rape/non-con, whipping, slight knife play, Loki is not nice!, references to making the virus worse. Loki is an ass!

Alice cursed under her breath when she entered the rather spacious, yet homely, house in the countryside.

It was all funded by SHIELD and was fully furnished with high tech entertainment equipment. The freezer, fridge and cupboards were full to the brim with supplies.

But it wasn’t running out of food or becoming bored that was the worrying part. It was who she was going to have to be living with that was worrying her.

She had been picked by SHIELD to look after one of their prisoners for the duration of the lockdown during a worldwide pandemic. She didn’t know who it was yet, they wouldn’t tell her until she got there. But she was told that he was locked in a cell in the basement with no access of getting out. There would be instructions on the kitchen table for her arrival.

It was nerve-wracking not knowing what she was walking into. But she was sure, or she certainly hoped, that SHIELD would have some kind of back up available to her.

Because she knew that she wouldn’t be allowed to leave once she got there, there were police and army everywhere enforcing the lockdown.

‘Fuckers should just keep the prisoners at the base, instead of leaving me to deal with them.’ She huffed as she got inside and dumped her suitcase by the door.

She wanted to find out who she was going to be looking after before getting settled.

Alice made her way to the kitchen, but there was no sign at all of any paperwork. She frowned and put her hands on her hips, looking around in-case she had missed it. But nope, there was nothing to be seen at all.

‘Sakes!’ She grumbled. She decided to just bite the bullet and go take a look in the basement.

It took her a few minutes to actually find the door to said basement. The house was far too fancy and futuristic. But eventually she found the hidden door that led her downstairs. It was dark until she flicked the switch on, then she was surprised to find that the basement was not like upstairs at all. It was cold and dark, the light barely doing its job.

When she reached the bottom of the creaky stairs, she looked over to the left and her eyes widened when she saw the cell… But what made her stomach drop and a chill run down her spine was the fact there was no one in it… It was empty. The door was open and the lock was busted.

‘Shiiiiiit!’ She ran back upstairs and darted towards her phone that she had left on the table by the door, but it was… gone?

Her eyes widened and she made a run to the phone she’d seen in the kitchen. But as she picked it up and started dialling for SHIELD, she realised the phone was dead. The cord had been cut.

‘Look at you, scurrying around like a little mouse trying to escape a predator.’

Alice gasped and spun around, but couldn’t see anyone. ‘Who’s there? Show yourself!’ She called out to the seemingly empty kitchen, as bravely as she could.

In response was a dark chuckle. ‘Ohh pet. They really did send you in here to the unknown. The lamb to slaughter.’ The smooth voice said so calmly.

Then she thought she recognised it. Having heard it briefly before when he had first been captured…

‘Loki!’ Her voice wavered slightly, that Loki picked up on.

He came into view then, appearing right before her eyes. He was in Midgard clothes, an all-black suit. She found that made him look even more terrifying than when she’d seen him before. He looked so normal, but she knew he was anything but.

Chuckling again, he confidently stalked towards her and grabbed and apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it. Then he looked at Alice intently.

‘How did you… what are you…’ She couldn’t finish her sentences, but she tried to remain calm as she slowly started to back away from him.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ He grinned.

She then made a split-second decision and bolted towards the back door. When she got there, the door wouldn’t open and there was no sign of a key. So she made another bolt past him and to the front door, knowing it was open as she left it unlocked.

Loki just watched in amusement as he followed her, watching as she tried to open the front door. Only to find it was locked, too.

‘Hmm, I do wonder where the key could be?’ Loki hummed and looked up above her.

She looked up and saw the key hanging on a hook right above the door. Far too high for her to reach, but she still attempted to jump up to get it.

‘What the hell, Loki! What do you want? What’s going on?’ She snapped, turning around to look at him. But he was gone. ‘L… Loki?’ She called and cautiously went to look in the kitchen, but it was empty.

Glancing at the kitchen knives, she rushed over and grabbed one, hiding it behind her. She then slowly had a look through the rest of the house, to find out where he had gone…

When she entered the living room, she was suddenly ambushed from behind. The knife was swiftly knocked from her hand and she was pinned to the wall, his forearm against her neck and she felt something sharp pressing into her side. She glanced down and saw he had a dagger against her.

‘Nice try, pet. But you are my prisoner now. And it’s such a shame for you that no one will notice you missing during this lockdown you mortals are having. Who knows how long it may last.’ He grinned wickedly.

Alice felt her heart sink. He was right. She could be killed and he would be long gone before anyone found her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep calm.

‘Get on your knees.’ He demanded.

Her eyes flew open and she glared up at him, eyes wide. She opened her mouth to argue back but Loki pushed his dagger into her a bit, piercing through her top and ever so slightly into her skin. She yelped and the fear rushed back into her eyes.

‘Do not test me, mortal.’ He growled in warning.

Eyes brimming with tears, she gave in. Loki felt her starting to slide down so he moved the dagger away from her and released her neck, allowing her to fall to her knees on front of him.

‘That’s a good girl.’ He patted her head.

She bit her tongue hard, to stop herself from saying anything she would regret. He was dangerous and she wasn’t sure how far he could be pushed…

Loki unbuckled his belt and pulled out his cock, already semi-hard. He pushed it against her lips and grabbed her hair tightly, making her scalp burn.

‘Open wide.’

Alice did as she was told and he slid his cock into her mouth. But as soon as she felt him on her tongue, she decided to take one last risk.

She sank her teeth into him.

With a roar, Loki yanked Alice’s hair so hard she went flying backwards into the wall with a loud thud.

‘HOW DARE YOU!’

She started scrambling across the floor to get away, ignoring the throbbing pain in her head from where she hit the wall. But Loki was on her in a flash, he knocked her over with his foot and then he put his foot on her chest, keeping her in place.

‘You’ve made a big mistake there, girl.’ He snarled.

It all happened in a bit of a blur for her. She was hauled up to her feet and carried kicking and screaming upstairs. When they reached a bedroom, she tried her hardest to fight him back, but he overpowered her far too easily.

She was swiftly strung up to the roof with her wrists restrained, she was only just on her tiptoes.

Loki sliced away at her clothing with his dagger, not being careful at all not to cut her. Her squirming and crying to try and get away didn’t help. By the time he had her naked, she was covered in bleeding cuts.

His eyes were wide and dark, he was clearly pleased with the state he had her in. If his hard cock was anything to go by, too.

‘I could cut you up into tiny pieces, like a bit of meat. It would be so easy.’ He said as he started to pace around her.

She tried her best to stop crying, to stop showing weakness. But she stung all over from the cuts, even though they weren’t deep they were bloody sore.

Loki paused behind her and she tried to tune her ears better to hear what he was up to. But the sound she then heard made her blood run cold… It was the sound of a whip cracking through the air.

‘Clever pet. You know exactly what I have in my hand.’ He said, noticing her jump.

He whipped the air right next to her face, making her jump again and cry. Her reaction delighted Loki and made him laugh.

‘You brought this on yourself, pet. If you had just behaved like a good little girl, this wouldn’t be happening to you right now.’ He whispered into her ear. ‘Now, let’s begin.’

He stepped back and started whipping her backside, repeatedly. With no mercy. The pain was like nothing else, she felt like her flesh was being torn open with every lashing. It only got worse for the poor girl as he whipped her thighs, too.

By the time he was finished, she was completely broken. Her head was hanging down, snot and tears dripping to the floor. She knew she was never going to be able to sit down again.

Loki had the whip vanish and he walked around on front of her. He leaned over and gripped her chin, forcing her head up to look him in the eye.

‘Are you going to do as you’re told?’ He growled.

She could barely nod in response, never mind speak. But that was good enough for Loki. He went back around behind her and moved in. She cried out when she felt his cock press against her entrance, she didn’t want him there.

But Loki was going to take her, whether she wanted it or not.

As he forced into her, she wasn’t sure what was worse. The pain from him entering her so roughly without her being prepared at all, or the pain on her bum as his trousers rubbed against her welted skin as he fucked her roughly.

The pain became so much that she almost passed out, but Loki reached round and gripped her neck. ‘Don’t you dare pass out on me. If you do, I will just force you to awaken again and I will give you another whipping.’

That was enough of a warning to force herself to stay awake, no matter how sore she was.

Loki had a tiny bit of mercy for her and slid a hand down her front, his devilish fingers started to tease her clit that was forced out of hiding purely from the imposing size of him.

He managed to pull a moan out of her and he felt her cunt respond to his stroking on her clit. But he didn’t want her to enjoy it too much, not after biting him. So he removed his fingers from her clit and pushed on her abdomen instead to get even deeper into her.

When he was close, his thrusts became more erratic. She was sure that he was bruising her insides, the slight stimulation on her clit hadn’t been enough to take the pain away. It felt like he was trying to burst through her cervix, he was being so rough.

The bite on her neck as he thrust once more and started cumming made her howl in pain. But Loki moaned in pure pleasure as he shuddered behind her, emptying into her. She could feel his seed sliding out and dripping down her thighs.

Loki was panting as he slid out of her and stepped back, looking at her… She was totally defeated and claimed.

‘It is so delightful that we have, what, at least three weeks of this…’ He teased, trailing his fingers up her back. He leaned in, his breath danced against her neck. ‘But I may just have to find this virus and… mutate it. Perhaps find a way so that we have to be locked up together for so much longer.’

Alice cried at the thought.

But it got worse for her. Because Loki decided to leave her hanging there on display while he got into the comfy bed to sleep.

And she had a feeling he wasn’t going to be letting her down any time soon.

#Loki #Tom Hiddleston #fan fiction #trapped during lockdown #one shot

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george-mackay-macfine · 4 years

Text

Easier,

Requested

Synopsis: Y/N loves George. George loves someone else.

Word Count: 1,330

“Y/N, can you grab the door?” Michael called from the kitchen as I set up the games in preparation of tonight's group game night.

“M’kay,” I called back throwing the cards on the table slowly making my way to the door, pulling it open. “Hi,” I smiled at George and Henry as they bustled inside. “Michael’s in the kitchen,” I shut the door behind them and walked back to the table. “Everyone should be here soon,”

“Who was it?” Michael called peeping out of the kitchen, towel in his hand.

“George and Henry,” I walked around Henry’s frame and returned to the table. “Did you want anything to drink?”

“Beer?” Henry asked sitting in one of the dining tables, George across from him.

“Sure,” I walked into the kitchen, pulling two beers from the fridge.

“Maddie coming tonight?” Michael asked me, I shrugged my shoulders undoing the beer caps.

“Ask George,” Madeline Valentine, also known as the current girlfriend of George MacKay.

“You okay if she does?”

“Do I have a choice?” I picked up the bottles and walked to the dining room. “Here you go,” I set them, on the table going back to the kitchen to grab the bowls of chips Michael was dishing up. “Has he said something to you?”

“Me? no,” Michael pulled the apron he’d tied around his waist earlier off and threw it down on the bench. “I assume he’d asked her, I mean they are dating.”

“Sure, makes sense I guess.” I pulled myself up on the bench, grabbing my forgotten glass of wine downing the remaining contents of the glass.

“Keep drinking like that and you’re going to have to go find yourself some more wine,”

“Perfect excuse to leave when she arrives,”

“Easy now tiger,” Michael chuckled grabbing his bottle of beer and bringing it to his lips. “You’re really not going to say something too him?”

“Wouldn’t change anything, He’d still be dating her,”

“Maybe not,”

“What are you two yaking about in there?” Henry called pulling Michael and I from our conversation, “I thought the mothers meeting happened before we arrived,”

“Shut up, idiot,” I called to Henry jumping off the bench grabbing my glass and walking into the dining room. “Let’s get started,”

“We gotta wait for Jackson, Renee and Maddie are coming,” George halted me, “Maddie’s going to be a little later she’s just finished work, but as for the other two…”

“Probably fucking,” Henry scoffed pulling the label off his beer, throwing the label onto the middle off the table. When we all looked at him he shrugged his shoulders. “What?” He looked up at us, “You know I’m right.”

“Still not a nice thing to think about,” Michael chuckled sitting across from George and beside me, He looked down at his watch, “I say three minutes,”

“Five,” George corrected.

“I think they’ll be here in seven.” Henry shook his head. We all turned to the door, waiting.

One minute,

Two minutes,

Three minutes,

“Michael’s out,” I muttered eyes not leaving the door.

Four minutes,

Five minutes,

“George is out,” My eyes still didn’t leave the door,

Six minutes,

Seven minutes,

“You’re out Hen,”

“So who won?” Henry slammed his hands on the table, “C’mon man,”

“Calm down,” George shook his head looking at the door, “None of us did, but you’ll have plenty of time to win tonight,”

“So how’s coupled life?” Henry questioned, eyes still trained on the door, “As great as you thought,”

“Yeah. Maddie’s great,”

“I need more wine,” I smiled standing and walking into the kitchen, returning moments later with the bottle,

“Long week,” George laughed eying the bottle.

“You’ve no idea,” I smiled pouring myself a large glass, downing it nearly in one drink,

“Go, girl,” Henry whooped eyes leaving the door, “Never change, Y/N.” He chuckled, “Can’t lose another one of the boys,”

“Hey,” I protested, “I’m not one of the boys,” Henry lent on the table,

“Oh aren’t you?” His brow raised, He held up five fingers. “One, you drink like a sailor, like the rest of us. Two, You don’t hold back talking about sex with us.” Two fingers dropped. "Three, you’ve never had a boyfriend only one night stands. Four, You’re almost immediately hated and or distrusted by any collective group of your male, our, girlfriends, and finally number five.” His fingers dropped down till he held up a lone finger, “You and I both know that you’ll never be interested in being anything but one of the guys,” Henry finished. My eyes shot daggers into his skin.

“Was that really necessary?” George hissed. “Y/N,”

“No,” I held up my hand, “He’s right… You all treat me like I’m just a guy, and I get it.” I stood up and walked towards my bedroom, I stopped near the door. “I think I’ll skip game night tonight.” I didn’t wait for the protests instead I quickly slipped into the room, shutting the door behind me, back against the wood so no one could enter. I slid to the ground and pulled my knees to my body.

“Y/N,” George knocked softly on the door, “Can I come in.”

“I’m changing,”

“No, you’re not.” Just don’t reply, he’ll get the message. “Let me in, wanna talk to you.”

“I’m fine, just go play cards or something,”

“He was outta line,”

“Don’t worry about it, George,”

“Let me in,” He tried twisting the doorknob, “Just want to make sure you’re okay,” It rattled again above my head, “Please,” I stood up and pulled the door open, George stood in front of me, hand raised ready to knock. “Hey,”

“Hi,”

“Can I come in?” I stood back, opening the door wider for him to come inside, “He was outta line.” George spoke as he strode in. “Really out of line.”

“Was he?” George turned to face me as I shut the door, “Everything he said was true, and you know it.” His head dropped a little, if I wasn’t watching him I’d not have noticed the small motion. “You’re only in here because you think I don’t know it, but I do.”

“Y/N,”

“I’ve been aware of it for a long time George,” I cut him off. “Ever since tenth grade,”

“What?”

“Tenth grade, you got your first ever girlfriend, remember her, Alice?” He nodded his head, “You choose her over me,” I took a deep breath, a bubbling began in my stomach, as I began to speak of the emotions I’d pushed down for so long. “Then when we turned eighteen you dated Hannah,”

“Y/N,”

“And not me,” I closed my eyes. “Then it was Josephine, then Felicity, but never me,”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,”

“Don’t lie to me. You’re better than that,”

“What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“I know you’re not mine George, but sometimes I pretend that you wish you were.” Hot tears began to stream down my face, “I’m an idiot, and I… I create this idea that you secretly want me and I often forget it’s just something I made up…”

“Don’t do this,”

“And I remember you don’t want me, and you’re not mine.” I took a deep breath, “And no matter how much I hate it I just need to get over it, but you lying to me, pretending doesn’t help.”

“What are you saying?”

“I need some time, away from this,” I waved my hand around me. “From you, Henry… Everyone… I can’t fucking do this anymore George,”

“Why?”

“Because those drunk kisses that meant nothing to you, meant everything to me…”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without you,”

“You’ll work it out,” I held the door open, moving to the side so he could pass through. He stood for a second staring me down before he passed me. Stopping right in the door jamb.

“Y/N,” He held his head up high, “Does it get easier?”

“No,”

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #GeorgeMackay #George MacKay fanfic #George MacKay Imagine

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samgtt700 · 4 years

Text

The End is Nigh

Kamilah x MC

Part Two

Part One Part Three

Alice stared down at her hands. A rage burning through her, her veins sparking with fire. Kamilah, Adrian and Lily’s comforting voices a thousand miles away.

“Surrender! By order of the goddess!” Guards surrounding them, stakes and electric batons directed at them.

Alice lifted her head. Her eyes glowing. Her fangs baring, Kamilah shuttering when she saw her. Unsure what was about to happen, remembering what Gaius did when his eyes glowed, the great evils he committed.

“Stand down!” Serafine tried to stop them.

A blur sprayed blood everywhere, the vampires collapsing into ash. Alice standing in the middle, her bloodied fists clenched, everyone consumed in silence.

“Alice...” Kamilah couldn’t believe her eyes. The shear power radiating from Alice made her body ache, her heart tightened knowing Alice wasn’t like this. She didn’t slaughter, she was made of light, of good. Her heart pure. “Alice. Take a moment... to calm down.” She saw Alice shift her focus to Serafine. “Don’t-“

Alice slammed Serafine through the wall and into the street, Serafine skidding along the road before stopping. Alice launching into the air, Serafine jumping out the way as Alice slammed her fist into the cement. “Alice.” Serafine stood. Raising her hands. “I don’t want to hurt you! Listen to me. Rheya is retreating back to the mansion but we need to get to her! We need to stop her!”

Alice stood. Pulling out her blade. Ditching it pass Serafine into a vampire charging. “Then don’t get in my way.” Alice passed her, grabbing her blade and decapitating the vampire.

“Alice!” Kamilah saw what she did. How ruthless she was. “Calm down!”

“They all deserve to die! They serve her! She killed Jax!” Her voice brimming with power, her distinct accent no longer recognisable.

“Your scaring me.” Lily grimaced. Adrian stepping forward.

“Alice. This isn’t you! You don’t hurt innocents.” Adrian pleaded. Locking eyes with her before turning to Kamilah. “We’re not getting through to her.”

“Can you slow her down?” Kamilah asked of Serafine.

“No. She’s locked me out. I can’t break-“ Sweat dripping down her skin, exhausting herself before Adrian caught her. Putting her arm around his shoulder. “You need to feed.”

“There isn’t time.” Serafine knew. “We need to get to the mansion.” Locking eyes with Kamilah, uncertainty, confusion reflecting back, neither wanting to witness what Alice could be capable of, great good or evil, Kamilah’s breath hitched for a second, she didn’t want to believe Alice would succumb to the darkness, to evil. “You need to get through to her. She needs to be calm or rheya will use her emotions against her.”

“You two go straight for the mansion. We’ll meet up there.” Kamilah ordered. “We’ll go after Alice.” She saw Alice slicing her way through vampires from Adrian, Jax and her own clan. Struggling to fathom how easily they stood with Rheya. How easily they fell under her spell but she was half brainwashed herself when Alice snapped her out of it.

Alice finished off the last of the group that charged her. Cleaning off the blade on a vampire barely clinging to life. Pushing forward when a dagger hit her chest and bounced off. Her outfit protecting her. Bringing her back to reality, the glow disappearing as she saw Dracula floating above, throwing knifes at the ready. “Surrender to the goddess! She is our god!”

“You!” Alice’s knuckles whitened around the hilt. “You killed Jax!” Scowling with rage, the fire within burning brighter. Dracula threw the knifes, Alice deflecting them with her blade. Stopping the last one with her powers. The knife slowly shifting around, before firing it like a bullet straight back at Dracula. Striking him in the chest.

“You! You hit me!” Dracula pulled the knife out. Staring in horror before narrowing his gaze at Alice. “You can die for our goddess. Your death will bring peace!” Dracula threw it. Alice stepping aside, launching into the air and swinging hard. Stopping just above Dracula, floating in the air.

“That’s a thing... she can do.” Lily stared in awe before shifting back on her heels, unsure what to make of it.

“She’s unlocking her full bloodkeeper abilities.” Kamilah knew they couldn’t waste time. “Come on.” She raced down the street after Alice with Lily.

Dracula hit the ground. His chest open, the wound slowly knitting back together.

Alice descended, her feet gently finding ground. Turning her head towards Dracula.

“You little bit-“ Dracula couldn’t finish. Alice slamming him across the street with a physic blast. Dracula throwing knifes at her as he retreated, throwing vampires in her way to save himself.

“Enough!” Alice floated towards him. “You killed Jax!” Holding her hand out and a wooden stake landing firmly in her grip.

Dracula threw the last of his throwing knives in a last effort to save himself but they bounced harmlessly off Alice. She stopped and glanced down at the knives before stepping over them. All of them lifting as she stopped before him. Dracula backing up against the wall before kneeling. “Please spare me! I beg for mercy. You are my goddess!” He screamed as Alice fired his knives into him, splintering him against the wall. Dracula swallowing in fear as Alice gripped his throat tight, shattering his bones so he couldn’t escape with a flick of her hand. Hearing his scream echo in the street.

“You’ve shown thousands no mercy. Handing them over to the order to save yourself. You’ve helped Rheya slaughter thousands! You killed Jax!” Her grip tightening on his throat, her nails drawing blood. “You don’t deserve mercy.” She ripped his throat out, Dracula’s hands going to his throat. “You deserve so much worse.” Watching him squirm gave her the satisfaction she needed, Dracula was suffering for everything he did but it would never be enough. She stabbed him in the chest with the stake, angling it to go as deep as she could get it. His screams falling on deaf ears. His ashes scattering in the breeze. Alice shattering the stake in her hand, her chest heaving. A hand on her shoulder bringing her out of her daze.

“Alice.” Kamilah looked at her with concern, in anguish. Not wanting this. Making Alice look at her. “Take a breath. I’m not saying Rheya doesn’t deserve to die but you need a level head to face her.” Kamilah took her face within her hands, gently kneading the tension in her jaw. “She’ll use your emotions against you. We need- I need you to take a moment before we go in.” Alice seemed to listen. Kamilah feeling the tension slowly leave her. “Ready?”

Alice nodded. Holding out her hand, her blade landing within her grasp. “Let’s go kill the bitch.” She led Kamilah and Lily to the mansion. A horde of vampires and humans waiting. Alice went to step forward when Serafine put a hand on her shoulder.

“Do you trust me?” Serafine asked. Handing Adrian the blood bag.

Alice nodded. Serafine stepping out and raising her hands. “I’ll hold them off. You four get inside. And Alice. Good luck.” Serafine crippled the horde. Forcing them all down, shattering kneecaps to prevent them from following and aiding Rheya.

Alice walked into the mansion. Blood dripping off the walls, “she’s been busy.”

“She’s done it for power.” Adrian grimaced. Raising the stake in his hand, ready for an ambush. Kamilah’s hand on Alice’s back. Feeling her unsteady breath before spotting something and blurring forward with her vampire speed. “Alice!” Kamilah went to charge when she felt an overwhelming surge in her mind. “Get out of my head.” She collapsed to her knees, holding her head.

Alice walked into the ballroom. The very same place she used to escape through barely weeks ago. Her hand clutching her blade tighter, heart pounding. Rheya standing on the balcony, floating down, heels tapping against the ground.

“Rheya.” Alice raised her blade. Ready for a fight. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

Rheya smirked. “You betrayed me. You all come from me! I am a god! You are mere peasants!”

“No. I’m not.” Alice glared. Her eyes starting to glow.

Rheya taking a step back. “You’ve unlocked your full potential. Good. When I rip it from you. I will have the power to bring back my daughter.” She gripped her blade, charging Alice who rolled left before raising her blade in time to block Rheya.

“You can never bring back your daughter!” Alice hissed. Her fangs baring. “Do you think you could explain everything you did! How you killed millions. How you killed her!”

Rheya froze. “I didn’t kill my daughter!” Her eyes glowing as the mansion started to tremble underneath them. A howl escaping Rheya. Their blades sparking as they pushed back and forth through the ballroom. Alice gasping when a bolt landed in her back. Forcing her to kneel. “You have much to learn but not enough-“

Alice pushed Rheya back before slamming her with a physic blast, Rheya shattering the windows into the courtyard, landing with glass protruding from her.

Alice ripped the bolt from her back before turning and sending it into Lily’s knee, seeing her collapse holding her leg.

“Fucking hell.” Lily came back to her senses. Clutching her knee, knowing she was out of the fight when she felt her kneecap shattered. “Agh!” She gritted her teeth, tears streaming down her cheek.

Alice turning back to Rheya when she saw what happened. “Your a monster.” Rheya landing, pulling out the last of the glass from her arm, flickering it away harmlessly. Her skin knitting back together.

Alice took a step forward. Hearing a gurgle scream by the door. “Get out of my head you bitch.” Alice turned and saw Kamilah holding her head. Adrian threw her into the room. Kamilah landing at Alice’s feet.

Rheya held out her hand. Kamilah gritting her teeth. “You have five seconds to stand down or I kill her. You told me your weakness months ago. On a quiet night when two friends shared wine.”

Alice didn’t flinch. “This is between us. Not them. You and me.”

Rheya started to close her fist. “Four.”

Alice could hear Kamilah’s struggle, closing her eyes as tears streamed down her cheek. She couldn’t surrender but she couldn’t let Kamilah die.

“Three. I can make this very painful.”

“Don’t surrender Alice.” Kamilah tried to stand, gritting her teeth. “I’ll be fine.” Blood dripping to the ground from her eyes. Her veins coursing black. Feeling Rheya poison her body. “Don’t let her win.” Standing up, staring at Rheya. Her body screaming in pain and taking everything she had to fight it. To push through it.

“Two.”

Alice turned to Lily, seeing Adrian crush her other leg mercilessly.

“One!” Rheya raised her voice. “Pick Alice!”

“Enough!” Alice tossed her sword in front of her.

“Good.” Rheya raised her half closed fist. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to break you first.”

Kamilah and Alice were both knocked off their feet by a gust of wind shattering between them. Rheya’s arm decapitated, Gaius behind her, sword dripping in blood. “Your still nothing but a puppet.” She turned her attention to him. Gaius nodding to Alice.

Alice saw Adrian shift his focus to her. “Die!” He charged her. Kamilah pushing Alice aside and taking the hit. “Kamilah!” Alice watched as Adrian pulled out a stake. Going for the kill.

“No!” Alice raised her hand. Crippling Adrian, forcing him to his knees. He turned and hurled the stake towards Alice, she froze it and let it clatter to the ground. Kamilah picking it up and ditching it at Rheya, catching her by surprise before jumping and landing a solid left hook on her. Combining with Gaius against Rheya as Adrian tried to fight through Alice’s physic powers.

Serafine stumbled into the room. Closing and barring the doors behind her. Covered in blood.

“Serafine!” Alice was relieved to see her. Adrian breaking free and slamming Alice into the ground. Going straight for Kamilah when Serafine grabbed his arms. Her feet sliding backwards.

“Stop her Alice! You know how to do it! You know what your capable of! Your a bloodkeeper! Use it!” Serafine shouted. Adrian snarling at her.

Alice stared at Serafine before focusing her gaze on Rheya, trying to find an opening. Kamilah and Gaius slicing her body but she healed instantly. Rheya shattered Kamilah’s collarbone, Kamilah stumbling back. Holding her shoulder, Rheya striking again as Kamilah struggled to hold her off when Rheya finally broke her defences. Pushing her blade straight for Kamilah’s stomach.

“No!” Alice screamed. Too far to help. To do anything, unable save the one she loves. “Kamilah!” Her body burning with rage. With hatred.

Kamilah hit the ground, blood spraying her. Her heart thumping out of her chest. Was this truly the end. Was this how she died.

Gaius stumbed backwards. Coughing up blood, he fell to his knees. His hands on the hilt of Rheya’s sword, pulling it from his chest, chattering at Rheya’s feet. He met Kamilah’s gaze. “Finish it. Finish Rheya.” He curtly nodded to her, his fight over. Closing his eyes and seeming to take his last breath, accepting his fate. Rheya ripping out his heart viciously. Crushing it beneath her palm, ash fluttering to the ground.

“Gaius...” Kamilah couldn’t believe he sacrificed himself for her. Never expecting it. He always served his own purpose, but to die for her. It was not who he was, he would never sacrifice himself for anyone. Always valuing himself above all. She wondered how much influence Alice had on him, like she had on her.

“The puppet served his purpose.”

Tags: @mrskamilxh, @wildsayeed, @made-me-deep-blue, @kamilahsayeed-owns-me, @thequeenofbaddecisions, @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @witchesplayatnight, @kamilahsqueen. I had to give everyone a small heart attack. Only fair.

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blueishfood · 4 years

Text

Wind in our sails (Chapter 3)

Fandom/Ship: Maraudrer era in a Pirates of the Caribbean au! Jily, Dobby x Winky, Alice x Frank,

Summary:

“Lily Evans, a young Lady of El Puerto Del Rey, meets Lucius Malfoy for the first time as she is promised to him. Malfoy is one of the few counts of Slytherin Island, a persuasive and revolting man. Miss Evans sees no way out of the nightmare her parents has landed her in.

That is until the infamous Marauder, a known and feared pirate ship sailed by Captain James Potter, attacks The Serpent on their way to her wedding. Lily sees and escape and grabs on tight.

Set sail with Lily Evans as she joins Captain James Potter and his mates in swashbuckling adventures of romance, mystery and lionhearted bravery.”

Warning(s): Only a little bit of fighting, what is pirate life without it?

Words: 1,9 K

A/N: It has come to my attention that people might actually like this fic! Thank you for that, I will now proceed to post all the chapters I have already posted on my AO3 account plus a new one :)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

---------------------------

Lily threw herself into the fight, slightly confused. She had not thought of the conundrum of which side she was on before she had decided on this plan.

She hated Malfoy and his master. She was thankful for the pirates for stopping her journey to further doom, but at the same time she did not know these people. They were fighting with profit as the only goal. The obviously had no qualms against killing, and they were fighting some of her friends, brutally. She wasn't on their side, but she also knew she could under no circumstance be on Malfoy's side.

Lily decided to fight on both sides. She fought her way past men of all sizes, stabbing and slashing them down. But she was stopped by a sword; clinging with her own.

"Lily, get back down!" Lily looked up and saw Malfoy's furious glare behind her blade. He pushed her back a few steps, but Lily shook out of her stupor and stood her ground.

"Fuck off, Malfoy." He scoffed at her words, and pulled back his sword.

"Leave now or you will regret it.", he growled, pointing his sword in her direction.

Lily drew her sword back as well, faking defeat. When he relaxed slightly she slashed at his shoulder. She was happy to see that she drew blood.

"That's for forcing me to bloody marry you!" He took a step back, his eyes big and filled with surprise.

She cut towards him again, but this time he blocked the advance. Lily spotted a grimace of pain and felt an ounce of satisfaction.

"Don't do this." There was a venom in his voice, venom that told her if she let him go now, he would kill her without a thought. Lily spat in his face.

"Watch me."

She attacked twice in a row. Malfoy sidestepped one and blocked the other.

"Wench.", he growled and blocked again. They danced back and forth, the sound of metal clinging against metal filled the air.

In a fit of inspiration, Lily drew her sword back. She pirouetted like she had done in ballè for years while dropping to a crouch. Quick as a whasp, she pulled out her dagger and pierced the air. She aimed for his foot. When she hit something, Lily tugged her weapon back before he could hack down on her hand.

Lily was to fast for Malfoy to block. He was injured and forced into a corner in less than a second. When Malfoy hit the railing, holding on to it for support, he knew that he had lost.

"Go on then, kill me." When Lily hesitated; he smirked.

"Was it not what I suspected? Lily Evans is too soft to kill a man." He desperately clung to the railing but was still too proud to let that bloody grin slip.

Lily shoved her elbow towards him fast, and hit Malfoy in the face. She heard his nose crack, and was satisfied to be the one left grinning. With a swift kick, he flew over the side of his own ship. Lily knew that she hadn't killed him, but she had definitely wounded his ego.

When she turned around she saw the five men from her own crew that was still living. They had just dropped their weapons in defeat. Surprisingly enough, Lily had been too busy to see the fight stopping. She glinted Winky and Moody joining the line that the pirates had ordered.

Still gloating in the glory of her win; Lily pulled her hat down a bit to hide her feminine face and sauntered over to join Malfoy's- now Moody's crew. Lily tucked her sword in her belt and smiled at the proud looking Moody.

"Thank's for gettin' back me ship, 'lad'" Lily's smile grew wider as she understood that Moody clearly saw through her costume. "Would have liked giving him that finishing blow myself." They laughed.

"Shut it all 'a yeh! Captain's speakin'!" A tall, firmly built man with black curly hair hiding almost his entire face looked towards the lot of them with a scowl before letting another man come through. Lily did not see more than his dark leather shoes while trying to hide her face.

"Men! You have lost." The man's voice was clear. Not dark and brooding nor too light to be threatening. It seemed perfectly fit for giving out orders. The man slowly walked past the line, and looked at the faces of the survivors.

"You have two choices." He said loud and clear as his boots scraped the deck. "Join my crew..." he stopped as he continued; "...or fight my best man." At that point the whole pirate crew laughed loudly. "By losing, you will die." Not one voice broke the silence that followed. "But by winning, you will earn your freedom."

"I've already been in your crew, so does that disqualify me or...?" A voice Lily knew well spoke up from the line. "Winky?" The Captain asked. Winky threw off her hat, waved and giggled.

"Welcome on board miss, would you like to go see your fiancé?" A man of the crew said and let out a bark like laughter as he pushed a lanky man towards Winky. She laughed happily and followed him under the deck of the Marauder.

Wow, did she just forget me? Lily asked herself, almost too surprised to register that Winky had a pirate fiance. The Captain looked just as surprised before he asked as a joke if it was anybody else he knew that was hiding in the crew. Imagine his bewilderment when another stepped forward.

"Mad-eye?! What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" Moody snickered at the Captains shout and answered; "Spying."

"Well get on the ship you bloody dog!" The Captain laughed and pushed Moody into the crew. Before Moody could be swept off by the crowd, however, he stopped for a second, looking towards Lily with a concerned glance. She gave a badly convincing wink to let him know that she was okay, but he seemed to take the hint and joined the crew.

Lily quietly weighed her options. She could join the crew and keep her identity a secret. Pirates did not respect women but more importantly, she was certain they would more than appreciate the wealthy soon to be wife of their enemy to work on their ship. Lily rolled her eyes at the mere thought of revealing herself. That was stupid.

She could of course gain her freedom by fighting the best man of the crew. She was pretty certain that she could hold her own against almost any man, but she did not know this enemy. Usually she would be able to study them beforehand, and to figure out their tricks. Besides, what did she have when she gained her freedom? Nothing.

She decided for the first option. Keeping her identity a secret seemed to be the best choice of action at the moment. The rest of Malfoy's crew decided to join as well.

When it became Lily's turn, and the captain asked what her choice was; she gave him her answer.

"And what was your position on the ship?" Lily thought about what her father had said about her ability on a ship before answering in a broken accent.

"A bit of everything cap'n."

"And what were you best at?"

"Me dad always said I had the eyes of a hawk, but I have other qualities too." The captain nodded, and after talking to everyone of the crew members he smirked at the Marauders crew;

"And then to your favorite part men!" He flung his arms towards Malfoys ship. "Enjoy." The men cheered, jumped over to the other ship and searched for treasure.

"Lad! You'll show me where your captain stowed the best of his gold." Lily understood fast enough that the Captain was talking to her. She ran ahead of him, nodding her head quickly, she knew of a few places.

"Here Captain." Lily pointed at the locked door at the bottom of the ship. The Captain kicked the door open and walked in.

"Potter, I'm Captain James Potter," he said without looking at her. "...but at the Marauder I'm called Prongs." Lily nodded as he inspected the gold and diamonds.

"Ship was going to Slytherin Island, was it?", James scoffed as his eyes scanned the expensive treasures. Lily only nodded. "Why were you on the ship, boy?" James turned to look at her with eyes filled with... well, she did not really understand what it was.

"Oh, um, only looking for a good enough payed job Cap'n!" she answered, trying not to sound like a complete liar. The Captain eyed her warily from her saggy trousers to her slightly too big shirt. She let out a breath to make her chest look smaller, and smirked confidently at her Captain.

"Did you need the money?" The curious gaze of her Captain made it difficult to lie, and she told the truth... well some of it.

"Yeah... I had some... issues and I needed the money to... get away, kind of." It was more like family issues, and she needed to run away, not that she had ever done as she needed but... it was some of the truth, right?

Captain Potter nodded slowly, and tried to discretely bow to see her face, but Lily pushed the brim of her hat longer down.

"Name and age." he commanded, straightening again. He turned back to the riches behind him.

Bugger, she hadn't thought of that.

"N-name?" She squeaked, James quirked an eyebrow.

"Do you not remember your own name, lad?" Lily nodded fast while thinking.

"It's Lee, Lee Brown." Lee wasn't that far from Lily right? She could do this. "I'm 16, sir."

"And may I see your face?" Realizing the mocking tone in his words for what it was, Lily knew Potter would not take a no for a no. She shoved a few red hairs back up into the hat, and pushed the brim back slightly. Making sure to frown a bit so her face looked more boyish, she looked up at her Captain.

He nodded sharply.

"Give me a summary of the treasures this ship holds Brown." Lily looked down at her shoes, and thought of all the rooms she had ran in to to avoid Malfoy.

"Diamonds, I figured some are fake, but mostly real. There is a bit gold and a lot of silver, and there are many expensive dresses. Malfoy was picking up his bride." James looked confused at Lily, he had not seen another woman than Winky on board the ship.

"Where is the bride?" he asked a bit louder than expected, looking a bit alarmed. Lily shrugged, she had to become better at lying somehow.

"Haven't seen her Cap, no gal's been picked up yet." The Captains shoulders sunk with relief, and he nodded, all traces of emotion clean off his face.

"Well, I'll make the crew get all of this." Potter bowed down and lifted up a few suitcases. Lily looked strangely at him, would not the Captain choose the most expensive gold? She wasn't about to ask of his strategic choices, she was sure he would have a reason for hoarding dresses anyway.

"Take those." He said nodding at three more suitcases and left the room.

Lily sighed happily as she picked them up. She was free from Malfoy, from marriage, and she was on the ocean. To get kidnapped by pirates was one of the best things that could have happened to her! Maybe this was what they called destiny.

#marauders fanfiction #jily #jily pirate fanfic #marauders era #harry potter au #pirate au #lily evans #James Potter #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin

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lapishasproblems · 5 years

Text

“You two can’t be serious.” (Post-reveal love square fic)

[READ FROM THE BEGINNING]

(Yes me again, the stretcher for this idea that @livanarose came up with)

For @mysparkleaddiction @mothergeekness @rasberrytears @kae690 @realdumbasshours @xthreeravensx @flashflashitsash @tiffpotato @ale-san28 @datweirdname @absolutelycoathangered @idknowwhat @carzyanna @yasminahlam @coccinellegirl @flightfoot @hungry-scooby @the-alice-of-hearts @probsjosh @idkxvickx @fandomkitten99230 @shadowybutangelicsongbird and everyone else who have supported this far.

Biology is hard. Math is too. Good thing Brainly exists.

~~~

The brunette entered the school, her white bag slung on her shoulder, an apple in her hand. The school was already filled with students. She wasn’t late, but not too early either. None of her classmates were in sight. She immediately made her way to her classroom on the second floor. She was expecting it to be loud but not like this.

As she opened the door, nearly everyone was there, maybe only one or two were missing. The attention was centered on the two tables on the right, teacher’s point of view. The tables belonging to none other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Alya Cesaire, Adrien Agreste, and Nino Lahiffe.

Alya grunted in frustration. “I SWEAR THE NEXT TIME I SEE HER I’LL—“

“Alya. It’s—“

“MARINETTE STOP IT! How could you be wronged like this twice?”

The brunette slipped between the people surrounding the two tables, mainly the table in the second row, where a dark-haired girl was sitting. The redhead next to her looked furious. A blonde was around, trying to take control of the situation, despite the fact that most of the people in the classroom don’t even want want him there.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

Heads turned. The buzz of chattering and protests was replaced with silence the moment the brunette spoke up, inviting some dirty looks from certain people.

Rose immediately spoke up. “Oh, you will never believe it, Lila. It’s TRAGIC! Ladybug—“

“Ah, ah. Let me stop you right there. Who knows how long your explanation will take,” the mayor’s daughter spoke up from her seat, apparently not interested to join the crowd, but listening all the while, eyes glued to her phone. “The issue everyone seems to be talking about, dearest Lila Rossi, is that Ladybug—“

“No, let’s let it go. It’s my problem. None of you need to be involved in any of this,” a dark-haired girl from the second row spoke up, her usually cheerful face folded and scrunched up. “Besides, why do you care, Lila? How suspiciously nice of you?”

The girl with the red jacket gasped dramatically. “I can’t believe you thought of me that way, Marinette. Aren’t we friends? It’s only natural for me to care for your well-being. Isn’t that right?”

The girl squinted, as if she’s about to lose her temper right then and there, but decided to sigh and let it go.

A blonde smiled, his green eyes friendly as ever. “We’re here for you, Marinette. If you need anything, you know who you can turn to—“

Someone cleared their throat, making the crowd turn their heads to where a skater was standing, her hands crossed and her eyes glaring daggers at the blonde. “Not here to judge, but we’re still not over what you did, you know.”

“I know what I did was wrong. I know, Alix. I know,” Adrien immediately answered. “I’ve asked for an apology, a second chance—“

The skater chuckled, cutting off the model mid-scentence. “Bold of you to talk about chances. I was akumatized as a time turner once.”

Adrien’s face looked scrunched. He looked like he wanted to protest, but rethinking about the circumstances, even Lila knew that was impossible. The only people who looked sympathetic was the DJ. Even Chloe was so busy with her phone that she either wasn’t listening, or she didn’t care, or she also hated Adrien.

The brunette clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. The crowd’s attention was back on the dark-haired girl now, making Lila’s expression completely unseen by her classmates. Dirty thoughts raced through her mind. If she had her way, Lila would’ve easily changed everyone’s perspective on Adrien as easily as she could flip the palm of her hand.

Lila scoffed. Nobody seemed to be willing to tell her about the issue, but she took initiative and pulled out her phone. If it was anything about Ladybug, there’s no questioning, it has to be on that stupid redhead’s crappy blog.

Without having to spend her entire morning standing there, scrolling through the blog, Lila easily found the article she was looking for. Posted just yesterday. And she immediately knew why everyone was fussing over the stupid designer.

Ladybug was back with Chat Noir.

The brunette scoffed silently.

~~~

“Adrien.”

The blonde model was tidying up his books, ready to leave the school, but he paused and looked at the brunette, who had just called him.

“I’d like to talk to you, maybe just the both of us?” She said in a questioning tone. Lila also silently eyed the DJ standing behind Adrien, giving him a stare that said “get out”, which Nino immediately understood. He picked up his bag and patted Adrien’s shoulder as a greeting before taking off and leaving the classroom.

Adrien stared at Nino’s back until he disappeared through the door before turning back on Lila. “Come on, we can talk while we head out together.”

Lila smiled, walking with the blonde out the door.

“Listen, Adrien. About this morning—“

“Oh. That,” he cut he off. “You probably hate me too.”

The girl shook her head. “No. I would never.”

“Why? If even Alya can’t seem to look at me in the eyes anymore, what gives you the reason to? Let alone forgive me?”

He’s right. Lila said to herself. Even if you defend him, Lila, and he ends up falling for you, there’s no guaranteeing you won’t be involved in a toxic relationship the way that stupid Marinette was.

She smiled. “Adrien, sometimes you do ninety-nine good things and make one mistake, but all everyone could see and remember from you was that one bad thing,” she said. “And suddenly you forgot you did some good things in the past.”

The blonde didn’t answer, taking his time to digest Lila’s heavy words, something she doesn’t usually say. Even Lila herself didn’t know where those words came from. Probably the back of her mind where she stores things she never uses.

Reaching the first floor, Adrien finally answered. “You got a point there, but I wouldn’t be too confident and say that I’ve done ninety-nine good deeds.”

Lila chuckled. “You’re a clever boy, I’m sure you get it.”

Adrien was chuckling, and Lila was chuckling with him as they emerged from the front doors.

“LOOK OUT!”

The grins were gone in an instant and their chuckles were muted immediately. Lila found a lamppost whirring directly at her. She barely had time to think before someone lunged at her. The lamppost missed them, but barely. Hitting the school steps instead.

She looked back at the direction the lamppost came from and found a giant ogre, his voice as inaudible grunts.

Adrien—the person who had lunged at her picked himself up and dusted himself off. “Listen, Lila. I need you to run and hide. It’s not safe here.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll evacuate as much people as possible,” he said, extending a hand to help Lila up. “Go on. I’m sure Ladybug and Chat Noir will be here any minute now.”

The brunette hesitated for a second, but took Adrien’s arm and stood up anyway. She was about to take off, but more screams came from across the street and Lila found herself yet again in a near-death situation where a black car was on its way to make impact with her skull. She shut her eyes, ready for the worst.

She was sure she was as good as dead this time, but in the last minute, she felt something tug in her stomach, and she heard a loud crash not far from where she was. Opening her eyes slowly, Lila saw that she was now somewhere in the sidewalk, and the car had crashed, blocking the school entrance. Adrien was not too far away, picking himself up for the second time. But there was someone else there.

“You two get out of here! It’s not safe!”

The brunette decided to agree with the red and black heroine. She eyed Adrien and he smiled before she took off to one direction, and him to the other.

She was only a few steps away when Chat Noir showed up, immediately jumping into the fight.

~~~

Lila was on her way back to the school area to look for Adrien. He did say he was going to evacuate some people, but that black car the akuma victim threw had blocked the school doors. She didn’t knew if he ended up evacuating the other students or not, since Ladybug was there when she left and she was sure Chat Noir showed up not long after.

Maybe he left. Lila told herself. Even if he had tried to evacuate all those people, Ladybug and Chat Noir would’ve made him leave. Those two always want the attention to themselves. I don’t see them in a team of five anymore.

She turned a corner near the school and was about to continue looking for the boy, but instead, found a crowd of people surrounding the two superheroes. In the middle of the sea of humans, Lila could easily make out the red-suited superhero and her partner, being held back from leaving the battle scene for the millionth time.

She walked over, not because she wanted to join the crowd and ask a few questions to the heroine and her partner, because Lila would be the first person to walk away everytime she hears the word “Ladybug”. But because she had to. The crowd were practically flooding the school area.

“Ladybug, mind answering a few questions?”

Lila turned her head as the heroine looked at her partner who returned the look with a shrug.

“Sure, a couple of questions wouldn’t hurt.”

The reporter paused to move a bit closer so that her camera crew can catch the heroine’s smiling face, but before she even could ask the question she was supposed to be asking, a redhead parted the crowd and with a swift movement, stood in front of the reporter with her phone, ready to question a few things to the heroine.

“Ladybug!” The very familiar redhead started, causing Lila to pause. She could tell Alya was trying really hard not to scream or cuss, remembering that a nearby camera is now going live. “Mind telling us how you singlehandedly seduced Chat Noir for the second time?”

Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “Is this about that Marinette girl again?”

“Yes and no.”

“Listen to me, superheroes aren’t supposed to be dating civilians. I made that mistake, and now Chat Noir made the same mistake. It’s his fault and I get it—“

“HIS fault? Bold of you to point fingers, honey—“

“Yes because it’s certainly not m—Marinette’s fault that they got into the relationship in the first place,” the heroine answered. “I specifically told Chat to stay away from civilians. That they are off limits. If he wanted to date them, he can date them as a civilian. But he didn’t listen. And look where we are now.”

“But—“

“Alya Cesaire, if I didn’t cut in and cut off their relationship, who knows what would’ve happened to your friend today?” Ladybug asked her. “If Hawkmoth knew about Chat Noir and Marinette, he could’ve used her as bait. His akumatized victim was even making his way to her school. To your school. Aren’t you the littlest bit worried for her safety?”

Alya looked upset. Lila could tell she wanted to argue some more but the reporter was getting furious, and Alya was going to have to leave soon.

The redhead didn’t answer, so Ladybug moved on, focusing her attention on the reporter who had just finished interviewing Chat Noir. “I’m sorry, what was your question?”

“No, it’s alright. Chat Noir answered everything.”

“Oh, okay. Great job then,” she turned to her partner and held a hand in a fist. “Pound it?”

“Pound it.”

The crowd around Lila clapped and cheered, so she returned her focus to the task at hand: finding Adrien.

“Alright everyone, bug out!”

And with that, the two heroes were gone.

But did the brunette care?

Not at all.

She made her way to the school steps. Aside from the usual people making their way around Paris, there was nothing to see. Ladybug’s superpower definitely fixed everything. There was not a scratch on the school steps or walls. Other kids have probably gone home while evacuating the area. If Adrien did evacuate the students, then he definitely did a great job. Something gave Lila the urge to smile.

She continued walking down the sidewalk and had keep looking for a while.

He probably went home. There’s nobody here. He wouldn’t be waiting for me. He probably thought I went home. Lila told herself over and over, but something told her to keep looking around the school area. She knew she was on to something but even Lila herself didn’t know what.

Not until she turned a corner and heard very familiar voices on the alleyway next to her.

“That was great!”

“Yeah, you weren’t bad either.”

Lila pressed her back against the wall once she caught a glimpse of the two people talking. She strained her ears really hard, trying to find out just what was the person she was looking for talking to Marinette Dupain-Chang in an alleyway somewhere near school.

“Did you evacuate everyone?” She heard Marinette ask.

“Yup, everyone’s safe,” he replied. They didn’t talk for a brief moment until Adrien spoke up again. “Listen, we need to talk about—“

“Adrien, don’t make the same mistake. Paris has ears everywhere,” Marinette said, stopping him immediately, causing Lila to curse silently.

Well she’s not entirely wrong. Lila said to herself.

Adrien who seemed to understand immediately stopped whatever he was about to say. “Alright, then. I’ll see you at school?”

She heard Marinette chuckle. “You too.”

“Alright, see you later, My Lady.”

Adrien emerged from the alley and turned a right, but Lila wasn’t panicking or quickly turning away or trying to hide. She was already crossing the street, heading towards the direction of her home. Saved on her phone, a picture of Marinette and Adrien in the alley, ready to be sent.

~~~

BUT I TRIED A LILA POV YALL CAN FORGIVE ME NOW

Hello yes me again. You’re probably sick of me and my hiatuses but really, there have been so many things happening these past few weeks.

One, of course, high school. I actually have a History AND Chemistry test tomorrow. Plus, someone from another class accused me of stealing her boy (the boy is in my class and we’re actually quite close). I get that she’s hurt but seriously, we only started school a month ago and you’re out here spreading lies already?

Two, I was sick like, a week ago. I was diagnosed with dengue fever but healed quickly. Unlike my brother who had to stay in the hospital for three whole days. And now I have a cold because I didn’t get enough sleep and my body’s immune system was at its lowest so THANKS A LOT HIGH SCHOOL.

Three, I’ve been procrastinating. The fic was coming to an end and I kept telling myself to finish it but I couldn’t find the right idea for the conversations. And then recently today someone spammed me with likes for the fic and I finally picked up my supplies, turned up some music and started writing. And here we are. Y’all can thank that person cause I finally wrote because of them.

Thank you for all your support up to PART NINE! Part ten will be the finale so y’all can wait for it I mean, I might write that in like a month or so from today.

I’m just kidding, IM NOT GONNA PURPOSELY LEAVE LIKE THAT AGAIN

Leave a “:))” to be notified for the next (and last) part!

(HUUUUGGGEEE thanks to Tere Liye for that lil quote Lila mentioned. Specifically, thanks a lottttt to the Komet novel I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT, and am waiting for NEBULA)

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advernia · 4 years

Text

fic: push me off a bridge (to catch me as i fall)

— war was never the best place to realize that trust was a very long free fall, but they had to start somewhere. (or: five times the jack of hearts receives treatment from alice the second, and all that happens in between.) || ao3 ver.

features: au!kyle’s route where kyle/mc is platonic, a hella slow burn edgar/mc development, more details of the war that you probably didn’t sign up for, and a! named! mc!

1: this is ridiculously long (14+k!?) but if you’re up for it, there’s post-reading notes here! (･∀･○)

There's a nice, narrow slash on his face; diagonally marking what many a mouth has called a remarkable young man's handsome features.

They're just staring at him for some reason and if he were, well, someone like a certain beauty-marked-pretty-boy-who-happened-to-be-his-superior; he'd be threatening both of them to do their jobs or else. But he's not that someone, he's different and quite eccentrically so, as demonstrated by him simply smiling back at the doctor and assistant's pointing stares and asking the most inappropriate question at the moment.

"Is there something on my face?" Edgar asks, tone cheery.

"Nope," Kyle replies, an eyebrow raised. "It's just... Okay, wow, nice cut you got there. When's the last time you actually came here for treatment? Actual treatment."

"Hm... I can't recall. But I certainly don't visit the infirmary as often as my unit does."

A snort. "Yeah, that'll be the day. Ever wonder why they spend a lot of time here in the first place?"

"To visit the oh-so-talented Seven of Hearts and bask in his medical talent?"

"... Are you going to treat him or not?" Alice the Second pipes in, a frown directed to her boss. "Because if you won't, I will."

Kyle swivels his chair around to gawk her. "... You sure you want to?"

"But why not? It's the reason why Edgar came here in the first place, right?"

"It's hard to tell with someone like him, but yeah, probably. But the main issue here is that."

The doctor points to the not-so-elephant in the room, the Jack of Hearts' once-flawless left cheek.

"If you're going to treat him, it's gonna be an up-close-and-personal thing," Kyle says, ominous voice at odds with the growing grin on his lips. "Can you take it?"

Edgar jumps into the conversation, smile still present. "I'm not one for having people at close distances, but I imagine having you treat me is better than identifying what Kyle might have drunk last night, Alice."

"That's what he said, lucky you! So, are - "

"Oh, hush, you two," she huffs, making her way to a cabinet with brisk steps. She plucks out a bottle and a bag of cotton off a shelf, then makes a beeline for the sink. "I'm treating you, Edgar, because you're in an infirmary and you're injured. And if I have to be up-close-and-personal, it's because the injury is on his cheek, Kyle. That's all there is!"

She's muttering a couple of other things they can't hear as she's filling a basin with water, so Kyle takes this opportunity to slide his chair closer to where Edgar sat, whisper unnecessarily conspiratorial as he says:

"Her ears turned red."

"Yes, very much like your hair."

The two share glances before laughing.

Alice, much to his amusement and also a bit of dismay, does not end up getting 'up-close-and-personal' with him at all - rather than sitting directly in front of each other (because that's what Kyle does to his patients), she chooses to move her chair to his left side, all her attention set on the injury without the feeling of the patient staring at her while she works.

Maybe he should start giving her a little more credit.

"Edgar?" she says as she dabs a damp cotton lightly on his cheek, "How did you get this injury in the first place?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"If you don't mind telling me, then yes."

He chuckles as the cotton slowly traces its way upwards to his cheekbone.

"Well then. How about a little exchange?"

"Exchange? What do you mean?"

"I tell you how I got this cut in the first place... but in return," he angles his head sideways a bit so that he could meet her gaze, "You have to tell me your real name."

Her arm freezes, and the cotton stops touching his face.

And that was the first time Alice the Second treated the Jack of Hearts.

"Lady Idike!"

She turns her around to the sound of her name, a frantic yell of help right by the tent's entrance - someone's struggling carrying his comrade on his back, his face strained with grime and sweat. She rises to her feet, eyes searching for any vacant space before rushing over to the new patients, leading them over to an area by the upper left side of the tent.

"Gently, now," she ushers as the soldier kneels down slowly to lower his friend's body on a cot. "What happened?"

A deep breath. "... We encountered the Three of Spades' squad by the streets of the Upper Central Quarter, and... I got careless, didn't see a trap coming right for me. This guy here, he... p-pu-p-ushed me... just in time, a-a-an-and..."

Tears began forming at the edge of weary eyes as he tried to continue, but any more words were drowned out by broken sobs. Idike sets a hand on the man's shoulder, squeezing lightly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees someone approach from her right.

"You did good, getting you and your buddy back here," Kyle says as he walked over to the sobbing soldier with a kind smile on his face. "Got any wounds?"

"... O-on-only b-br-r-bruises an-and sc-scrapes, sir..."

"Got it - we'll be with you in a sec, so sit tight. Idike, what about him?"

She nods and runs over to the cot, fingers immediately heading towards the unconscious patient's left hip and thigh; a visible mix of damp blood, broken flesh, and torn cloth combined. Clearing out a bit of the mess and pressing down gently, two of her fingertips come across light pricks, causing her to pull her hand away. Kyle clicks his tongue at her reaction, moving beside her to check the damage himself.

"Caltrops," he mutters.

"Cal... what?"

"Something like tiny metal spikes. See those things stuck on the soles of his boots? Caltrops. There's some hanging by his pants too, tricky things."

"Are they lethal?"

"Assuming they didn't hit something vital or that they weren't coated in poison, then no. They're annoyingly sharp, though."

Idike sucks in a deep breath, taking in one last glimpse of the gaping wound before turning to face Kyle.

"What do we need?"

"My, my. What do we have here?"

With a raise of his hand, his troop trailing behind him stops moving, hands swiftly finding the hilts of their swords and bodies shifting to a defensive stance. Without the noise of boots crunching on leaves and dirt, the forest surrounding them was tranquil - inviting, even, as the near setting sun tried to dye every lick of green with its reds, yellows, and oranges.

A few seconds pass. He lowers his hand, but none of them relax.

A few more, until -

- a dagger, seemingly materializing out from nowhere, flies straight and true for his cheek.

The Jack of Hearts smiles, drawing his saber from its scabbard in a split second to parry - a sharp clang echoes throughout the forest, and the threat falls defeated on the ground. With a few steps forward and a quick bend of his knees, he takes the weapon into his other hand.

"Do be careful," there's a lilt in his voice as he speaks rather loudly to the wilderness. "Alice treated this same cheek not too long ago - I'd hate to return to her and have her do it all over again."

Winds rustling the leaves of the trees answer, but there's a strange energy that comes with it, something similar to the sensation when magic would come to play: the air tingles with a prickling charge, filling one's lungs with a sense of alertness and unshakable jitter. Without warning, he throws the dagger upwards, towards the high branches of the large oak tree just a few meters ahead.

It doesn't come back nor does it make a sound of hitting a mark, but in its stead someone drops down from the tree, two feet gracefully landing on the ground.

The tension doesn't fade.

"Ten of Spades, Seth Hyde," Edgar waves, as if greeting an old friend. "Nice weather we're having, aren't we?"

Seth scoffs, a hand reaching for one of the daggers set on his hip - though there's a notable lack of expression on his face, every bit of his posture screams of a threatening aura waiting to be released on a moment's notice.

"... What did you do to her?" he asks, voice an unnerving low.

"Nothing that concerns you," Edgar shrugs, and Seth watches as his lips curl into a teasing - teasing! - smile.

"Though I believe a better question is... what did she do to me?"

It's been... four days? Or had it been three? Perhaps she lost count.

All she knew these days was to focus. This was no London confectionery anymore, with all its flours, sugars, fruits and honey.

"Scalpel," a quick command, accompanied by an open hand held out towards her. She nods, picking out the tool carefully from a metal tray and handing it over.

There were no preparation periods, baking hours, timetables, opening and closing times, or rush hours.

"Forceps," the scalpel returns to her with its blade drenched in scarlet. Idike sets it aside and pulls out the next tool, placing it on Kyle's palm.

This was no warm bakery, open kitchen, or pleasant shop.

"Caltrop extracted," Kyle mutters as he glares at the object held upright by the forceps: it's a small thing with four sharp teeth, decorated with blood and pieces of skin. She stares at it, glimmering under the light of the tent's magic crystal lamp.

This was life and death, and she willingly chose to be part of it.

Someone charges at him with a rapier held up high in the air, almost like a guillotine. A shame that it doesn't meet its intended mark though: Edgar parries the strike halfway down, watches as his opponent's eyes grow wide as saucers at the sudden impact, then delivers a smack right to the chest and two well-aimed jabs to make the man crumple to his knees along with his weapon.

From his left, someone not an ally rushes towards him presumably armed with a blade as well, and from his blind side; a set of throwing knives come for him like bullets.

What a pickle.

The knives are faster, but it only takes the swift motion of sinking down onto to his haunches to avoid them completely. The lunging soldier however was now just paces away from impaling his forehead, but he takes advantage of his position to aim for the underside of his enemy's outstretched arm; gloved hand reaching out to grab the forearm with a grip tight enough to cause a loud scream of pain and the release of the sword, followed by barreling upwards - his opponent starts to lose his balance in response to the motion and Edgar uses it, dropping his saber for a moment to fully grab the man's arm and throw him effortlessly over his shoulder.

A pained groan escapes the poor soldier's lips before he lays limp on the ground, unconscious. Edgar leaves him there and picks up his weapon, calm countenance at odds with the persisting sounds of battle ringing loudly in the forest.

He glances at the path forward, obscured by leaves but unable to completely hide the traces of freshly unearthed soil underneath the foliage.

Meanwhile, the sun was sinking down the horizon, beckoning the night to pour itself out on the sky.

"A pity, Ten of Spades. But it was quite fun while it lasted."

Turning on his heel, the Jack of Hearts set out to reconvene with his troop.

"... and since there was sufficient evidence found that the area had been already laid on with various traps, the King postponed the advancement to Black Army territory through the forests."

Kyle hums absentmindedly as he was stitching up a patient's shoulder. "Smart move - glad he didn't decide to order someone to just get rid of the traps using magic."

Zero shakes his head. "Inefficient and costly. We still have a good amount of magic crystals in our inventory, but it's wiser to use them for a better time."

"I know. Still, a better time, huh?" cutting the excess thread with a scissor, Kyle lets out a heavy sigh. "The only 'better time' I can think of is you lot giving me and my assistant a break."

The doctor gestures to the whole of the medical tent, nearly full with lines of cots and miserable men: there were a spare few that were up and about, doing their best to look after the needs of the others; but the rest were either unconscious or groaning where they lay. The Ace of Hearts' lips drew a taut line, the mixing smells of pungent disinfectant and coppery blood dancing strongly about his nostrils.

"... Is Idike okay? Seeing all this."

Kyle snorts. "Of course not - bet she still cries a little bit inside each time someone's carried here, and that's fine by me. But what's important is she hasn't been running away from this: it's been three whole days since we've set up here, and so far she's been giving every single one her all."

"I see... where is she now?"

"Ordered her to take a breather. Should be having dinner or something."

Contrary to what Kyle ordered her to do, no, she wasn't having dinner at the moment.

Not taking a breather, either.

She's dragging someone by the hand to their shared tent instead, mind and body working on adrenaline or reflex at this point: make some light by using a magic crystal and hanging it on a lamp, seat or make the patient comfortable, gather some basic tools and place them on a tray beside where you'd sit, then evaluate the patient's condition as calmly as possible.

And it's only when she's seated herself in front of her patient does she realizes who -

"Oh," she says, the word coming out of her mouth even before she knew it.

Usual Red Army procedure dictates that after their given missions, the Chosen Thirteen (save for the Seven on some occasions) would gather in the commander's tent to report the results of the day's operations. The gathering, facilitated by the Queen, required that all information and notable observations should be accounted for; down even to the most minuscule detail. Once all was said and done, the Jack would narrate a summary of all the reports given and from there, the strategy planning would begin.

The King would finalize the orders once everyone came to an understanding and agreement of the current situation and objectives, then they were promptly dismissed.

Rinse, repeat. Whatever the Thirteen chose to do after the gatherings was completely up to them, unless they had orders.

Edgar didn't have any tasks assigned that night, so he chose to have a brief rest by the river just a short walk from the encampment. But on his way there, he runs into her - Alice the Second with all her loosely plaited honey-colored hair, bags growing under her eyes, and the apron she wore over her dress stained with suspicious splotches.

It gets interesting when she points out that the glove of his right hand had a tear on it, and even before he has a chance to explain himself, she already closed the distance in between them and took his right hand into hers, raising it up for her to check.

But in all honesty, never would've he imagined that she would actually drag him all the way to her tent.

"You know Alice, were I someone else, I would've taken this as an invitation."

"An invitation for what?"

"I wonder. Oh, assume this instead: the lone young woman of an army inviting a man to her quarters in the middle of the night... what do you suppose people would think if they were to witness such a scene?"

Silence - her eyes, the most innocent of blues, blink once, twice, thrice -

- all of a sudden they widen, her cheeks bloom with color, and then -

"A-a-ah-ahhh! I-it-it wasn't intentional! I saw an injury on your hand, and - "

"Yes, yes - I understand. Believe me, I do. But you realize that you could've brought me to the medical tent instead?"

Edgar simply watches as Idike's lips quiver defiantly, but it's short-lived as she expresses her surrender by burying her face into her hands, mumbling incoherent as she shook her head back and forth repeatedly; loose strands of hair dancing about.

He chuckles, bringing a hand to his mouth.

Perhaps I took it too far?

The wound on the back of his hand is a single slash, just in need of some disinfectant and a little ointment for good measure. She tends to it like going through the motions of every day she's dealt with ever since she begged Kyle to bring her along to the front lines: fingers deft and gentle, movements precise and prudent, pace not slow but steady.

She finished applying the ointment when he speaks, breaking the silence that hung in between them.

"Alice," Edgar lowers his head in a bow that has her blinking rapidly again as she sets the bottle of ointment down on a tray, "allow me to sincerely apologize for teasing you."

"No, no! You don't have to bow - I too, have to apologize since I... um, overreacted. You were trying to warn me for being careless, so... thank you, Edgar."

Idike gives him a small smile when he raises his head to look at her again, and as her eyes meets his she's reminded of how difficult it was to decipher what he was thinking about when he stares at her with such a blank expression on his face.

Then again, Edgar was difficult as he was strange; an enigmatic character whose great idea of a peace offering was caramel corn. The memory makes her smile a bit brighter as she looks away to take his ripped glove from another tray, along with a needle and a small white spool.

"That isn't necessary, Alice," he tells her when she starts threading the needle. "Fortunately, I have a spare set of gloves with me."

"Good," she hums, but she began to sew anyway. "... Say, Edgar?"

"Yes?"

"How did you get that injury in the first place?"

It's a rehash of their previous conversation, save for the fact that this time, he asks her the same question for a good reason.

"Do you really want to know?"

"I do, but does that mean you'll ask for my name again?"

A wry smile plays on his lips - they'd go off topic, but he could humor her for now. "Would you tell me if I asked it of you this time?"

She laughs, but no response follows. Oh, how he wished that her attention was set elsewhere rather than her needlework: with a head tilted downwards, he couldn't see the entirety of her face - she was ever so honest with her emotions, and being unable to see whatever expression crossing her features right now was unfortunate.

"... How did you know?" she asks after a short while, sewing coming to a halt. "About my name, I mean."

Gingerly she looks up a bit and he can finally see her eyes, blues tinged with confusion and perhaps some doubt - similar to when she studied him the day he gave her caramel corn, grip on the paper bag a little tight.

"I suppose there's no harm in telling you. Do you recall how you introduced yourself to the King and Queen of Spades the night you arrived here?"

"To Ray and Sirius?" she blinks before mulling it over for a few seconds. "... I just told them my name?"

"'You can call me' were the words you added with it. Quite an unusual way for a lady to introduce herself, unless doing so was common in the Land of Reason."

"That was your only clue?" she fully raised her head, now openly gaping at him. "Huh...? But wait, I haven't run into you yet that time, so how did you..."

Edgar brings a finger up and holds it against his grinning lips.

"Your reaction when I first asked you back in the infirmary confirmed it - I have to admit, you're surprisingly more cautious than you appear, to the extent that you're unwilling to give away your real name and make us settle for a fake one instead."

"What the - it's nothing like that!" she exclaims, fingers clutching onto her apron. He falls quiet as he waits for her to continue, watching as her lips drew themselves into a frown and her eyes waver with evident hurt and regret.

But why regret? He's the one suddenly backing her to a corner over something as simple as a name - she had some right to be cross with him and he certainly didn't mind (he'd been wondering if someone like her was even capable of being angry); but the fact still remains that she didn't deny his words. The ongoing silence wasn't helping her case any further, either.

Three seconds.

Four.

Five.

Then finally her mouth opens, hesitant.

"... If you've noticed that one detail..." she says, voice small, "... Does that mean you've been suspicious of me ever since?"

Edgar's smile grew thin.

Yes, he ought to give her a little more credit.

"Secrets, whether minor or major, can be such incriminatory things... don't you agree?"

Idike holds her breath.

"Before I forget, Alice."

With the mood heavy and possibly going nowhere at this point, he decides to take his leave, smoothly rising from his seat.

"The Ten of Spades, Seth Hyde," he doesn't miss how her shoulders jump upon hearing the name, "your friend - was the reason for my injury. Ah, but don't you worry - he still lives. I haven't the slightest clue about his unit, however."

She breathes in deeply, he's walking away. Shifting the tent's flap aside, the biting night air greets him, and he looks over his shoulder - she hasn't moved, nor does she turn his way. In the end it seems that he still won't be getting an answer, but perhaps he could try some other time instead.

If she even wants to see him after this, that is.

"Thank you for the treatment, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

With that, Edgar leaves.

Idike sits in silence, staring at the half-mended glove on her lap.

And that was the second time Alice the Second treated the Jack of Hearts.

The instant the King of Hearts fully steps into the medical tent; the overpowering stench of blood assaults his nose.

It's a different warpath inside the seemingly wide space, its four corners occupied with wounded men and the aftermath of their treatment stored away in sacks set on the corner nearest to the tent's entrance. Fluttering about the meager spaces left in between cots and the area itself were only a handful of people tending to the chaos: mobile soldiers with what looked like minor wounds, the Seven of Hearts, and also Alice the Second.

Lancelot walks over to where the doctor stood, a white coat back facing him.

"Kyle."

Said person turns around, and Lancelot's face contorts itself instinctively into a glare.

"Huh - Lance?" Kyle frowns, a syringe at the ready in his right hand. "It's past midnight - skipping out on sleep again?"

"I can say the same to you, so you're not one to talk. Put that away for a moment."

A shrug, but the syringe is set aside on the nearby trolley. "As you can see, you've made more than enough work for me already. So hurry it up, what do you need?"

"You can work while you talk. I need a summary of today's report."

"Got no more time to read the whole thing?"

"Unfortunately, I don't. Rest assured, I'll still take the written report before I leave."

"Must be tough being a man of war," Kyle mumbles as he starts to lay out small napkins on one side of the trolley. "A hundred eighty-seven dropped by injured, twenty-five lying down with major wounds. Fourteen were initially in critical condition - used some magic crystals to help with the pain and lull 'em to sleep after treatment, but they're better off going back to headquarters."

"Causes of injury?"

"Majority's still the usual sword or bullet," nimble hands begin pulling out contents from the medicine bottles, then settle an assorted amount of them on top of the napkins. "But some guys under our Six ran into the Three of Spades' squad by the Upper Central Quarter - they plant and throw caltrops, imagine that. Then the Nine of Spades wreaked havoc with his bow and arrow: considering the statements of his victims, I assume the arrowheads were dipped in a herb formula that causes temporary muscle paralysis - made sure to tell our Four about that, since his troop took the brunt of it. Did he mention that in the gathering?"

Lancelot nods, then his eyes narrow. "... Are there casualties?"

Kyle pauses, his hands frozen in place.

The gap of silence is filled in by cries, bemoaning, and frustrated yells.

"... Got our first one an hour ago. Blood loss and an infection too far gone - risked his neck for a new recruit."

Lancelot follows Kyle's line of gaze, to a cot set almost by the center of the tent: a white sheet's laid over it as a shroud and by the foot of the cot wails a soldier; head downcast, on his knees, and a tightly woven fist repeatedly pounding the ground. Alice the Second comes running over to the man's side, hands reaching out to stop him from hurting himself any further.

Both King and doctor soundlessly watched as she did her best to help the man get up on his feet, despite the crack in her voice and her cheeks tear-stained still.

"This place is preposterous!"

"How so, dear Queen?"

"Do you have holes for eyes? Did you not see the houses we passed by? They have thatched roofs, for goodness sake, and even without the aid of a magic crystal; you could clearly see that those hardly look properly reinforced! This whole area with its closely linked houses is simply a disaster waiting to happen if fire was to be put in the equation!"

Edgar snickers as Jonah continued to ramble on about (in his words) the 'baffling and questionable quality of life' of Black Army territory. True enough, the simple wood or stone houses did pale in comparison to the usual brick or marble homes found in Red territory; but perhaps that could be attributed mainly to the primary livelihood differences of the territories: while Black territory soil was kind and bountiful to agriculture, Red territory grounds were a trove of abundant mineral deposits open for exploration.

"Now, now. I'm sure that if the people of this village wanted to, they could improve their homes any time they wish. It just so happens that they willingly chose to devote their time to their livelihoods - quite impressive of them, don't you think?"

Jonah scowls. "First and foremost, if they had all the time to care for their finely plowed fields and well-structured barns, then they should also have half a mind to keep themselves safe. What use do these fields serve if their cultivator isn't present? What happens to domesticated animals without their owners to feed and guide them?"

Edgar claps his hands softly for a few seconds. "Such touching passion. If you're that concerned, why not bring it up with the Black Army leaders? I'm sure their Queen would also be willing to listen."

If glares could burn through skin, then Edgar was sure that his head should be going through spontaneous combustion at this point.

"Remind me again, why are you here?" Jonah stops walking, raising his lantern a bit higher to survey their current location. It was probably a few hours before dawn, but the dark of the night still wore itself thick around the mountain village. "The King specifically ordered your unit to survey and secure the waterways of the Civic Center that are also linked to those that flow through Black territory, correct?"

"Right you are. I've already dispatched my unit accordingly to do the task as we speak - however, the King expressed interest in villages, such as this one, which are far off from Black territory proper but closer to the Central Quarter. It was agreed upon that occupying these areas immediately would be of best interest, lest the enemy uses them as vantage points."

"That's the reason why my unit is here in the first place," an exasperated sigh, followed by a stern tone. "Admit it; you decided to come along, uninvited, because - "

Jonah abruptly holds his scolding, glower redirected at the darkness just ahead. With no one talking, the only sounds around were the faint chirping of crickets and the winds rustling through grass and straw roofs.

According to an earlier reconnaissance report, the Black Army ordered the evacuation and relocation of the civilian areas under their jurisdiction before the war started.

Two days ago, a number of scouts confirmed that the Black Army villages closest to the Red Army encampment were deserted.

Hours before he and his unit made their way to the village, watchmen claimed to have seen not a single trace of movement around the perimeter, even with the aid of magic crystals.

"Queen Jonah," a soldier whispers after a few seconds have passed, "Your orders."

Fixing himself into a defensive stance, Jonah tosses his lantern away from him - it lands with a dull thunk on a patch of grass, and his fingers slowly reached for the hilt of his sword.

"Discard your lanterns and draw your blades. We have company."

Day four without a single drop of alcohol. How quaint.

Here he was abstaining, but both Armies showed no interest in giving up the war just yet - the proof of all that was clearly evident in every corner of the medical tent, and also adding to that were a new group of potential patients barging themselves into said tent.

"Seriously? It ain't even morning yet," Kyle mutters under his breath. Beside him, Idike smiles weakly.

One of the men run towards the doctor and assistant, white uniform dirty and cap in tatters on his head. Still, he has enough energy to salute and speak in a booming voice that probably everyone in the vicinity hears, whether they wanted to or not. "Sir Seven, Alice the Second!"

"It's great that you still got some pep, so drop the formalities." a lopsided grin makes its way to Kyle's lips, then he gestures to the new arrivals. "What happened?"

"We, the Eight of Hearts' unit, had a run-in with the Jack of Spades and his troop in our attempt to occupy one of the Black Army villages present in the upper quadrant," the soldier relays - Idike's eyes widen, but she says nothing. "In the midst of battle, Ace Zero and his unit came to our aid, pushing the enemy back and allowing the wounded from our side to withdraw! The skirmish still continues as we speak!"

"Jack of Spades, huh... he leads a sword-based unit. Anyone in critical condition?"

"No, sire! Er, I mean, none! I think! Oh, wait! One of us took a heavy blow from the Jack himself, sir!"

"He's our priority then - gotta pity a guy who gets hit by that claymore," Kyle motions the soldier to lead the way and he complies, doing another salute before turning on his heel.

Kyle's already taken a few steps forward when it dawns on him that something - no, someone's missing. When he looks behind him he sees his assistant standing still, head downcast and hands tightly held together. Wisps of her hair that escaped her plait shield her face from his view, but he finds it relieving to see that neither her shoulders nor her knees were shaking.

The sight of her makes his expression turn wry - really, she could stand strong for days then become incredibly fragile just as fast; and that's exactly why he refused to let her near the front lines in the first place. She was kind, too kind for a war, and the fact that she had spent a considerable amount of time with both Armies didn't make this any easier for her.

Weeks ago the Black Army took her in when the Red Army saw her as a threat.

Now, she was willingly tending to Red Army soldiers, the sworn enemies of the same Black Army who called her a friend.

He walks back to where she stood and when he's close enough, he reaches out to take hold her shoulders.

"Hey," he says. Idike looks up at him.

"Oh - " her voice is a shadow of her usual self, the blue of her eyes waver with a flurry of emotions. Worry. Fear. Grief. Frustration. Exhaustion. All that a scrambling mess in one girl.

"Hey," he repeats, hands moving upwards to pinch her cheeks. She yelps in protest, face contorting even further.

"Owww!" she whines, the pain springing life back into her voice. "Kyle, what are you - "

"We have fourteen new patients lined up."

Her eyes widen, she stops squirming. Satisfied, he lets go of her cheeks and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his white coat.

"And supposedly, one of them's in bad shape. Think you can help me out?"

He keeps his gaze on her steady, she stares back. There's still some uncertainty flickering around the edges of her eyes, but her irises are filling in with the usual clarity of a blue sky, and that's what he - and the patients inside the tent - needed from her right now.

And eventually - thankfully - she nods, eyes not leaving his.

"I will," she says.

Right: a swoosh in the air, just seconds released, aim most likely for his left thigh or knee. A quick shift of his leg to the other direction, and an arrow materializes from the darkness and pierces the ground where his leg used to be. A brief look into the arrow's position suggests that the source is at an elevated position, possibly in -

Behind: heavy footsteps, grass crunching loudly; suggestive of someone rushing and most likely with a weapon. A twist of his torso, a raise of his saber up to his shoulder while he keeps his lower body steady to maintain balance; and clang! He comes face to face with his attacker and their short sword, strength shaky and current stance leaving them wide open. So what he does is to keep his right leg grounded as he lifts up his left; body pivoting smoothly as he delivers a heavy kick to his opponent's side.

The man screams in agony, leading to a loose grip on the sword and a wavering focus: the perfect opportunity to land a finishing blow through a series of rapid slices for disarming, a few sure steps forward, and - crack! - a knifehand strike lands on his opponent's neck.

Not wasting any time, he dives to the nearest place for cover, that being what looked like a small house. Back flat against the wall, he watches as the place where he once stood was again struck and with arrows this time, one hitting a discarded lantern and effectively snuffing the light of its magic crystal and the other two narrowly missing the body of the soldier he just defeated.

Jonah clicks his tongue.

Another light source gone. Dealing with ranged units in the dark can be so tiresome.

"Our morning got off to a good start, don't you agree?"

"Wha - "

Jonah whirls around to see Edgar leaning against the same wall and nonchalantly holding a bow and arrow in his hands, though his focus was more on the latter.

"Ah, yes. Our good doctor really is sharp, isn't he? The tip was dipped in a formula."

"Why you little - do you realize that this is hardly the time to be impressed!?"

"On the contrary," Edgar smiled as he raised the bow up to his shoulder height and nocked the arrow, "I think it's highly appropriate."

And with a sudden burst of speed; the Jack of Hearts ran out from his hiding place, aimed high, and released his hold on the arrow - he doesn't see how far it goes but seconds later there's a cry of pain and the loud rustling of leaves nearby, followed by something wooden and something heavy falling to the ground.

Jonah steps out from behind the wall, a dainty eyebrow raised. "That man better not be dead."

"How morbid of you," Edgar says as he casually discards the bow, then draws his saber. "A little paralysis doesn't cause immediate death, Jonah."

"But a sharp or faulty aim can. Enough of this - we ought to regroup with - "

"Men! Aim for the Queen and Jack of Hearts!"

The pair stood still as two groups hastily approached them from both sides - swords at the ready, they silently watched as they were encircled by what looked like an angry mob of soldiers all dressed in the same black uniform, the gleam of their weapons made seemingly eerie by a lone lantern paces away from Jonah's feet.

"Oh? Did the Nine of Spades have this much swordsmen under him?"

"Hmph. A trivial matter - they can call all the reinforcements they want, but their numbers mean nothing against the Queen of Hearts."

"Ever so dependable," Edgar grins as the soldiers begin to inch forward in unison. "But it's bad to keep all the fun to yourself, you know."

"Hey there. Can you hear me?"

The man lying on the cot lets out a groan as he awkwardly nodded - there's a gash across his chest reaching down to his stomach, looking loud and angry and all vibrantly red with spilled blood. Kyle inspects the injury without so much as batting an eye, stooping down a bit to get a closer look.

"Looks bad, but we can manage." he mumbles after a few moments, then he turns to Idike waiting behind him. "Get rid of his clothes and wipe the chest area clean."

"Alright," she steps forward to stand over where Kyle stood, gazing at what she needed to work with. First, she needed to get the patient out of that thick jacket - if she couldn't move his arms much, she could just go with cutting through the cloth instead even if it would take a little more effort on her part. Next, she had no other way around the shirt so she should cut it out, which meant that a clean replacement had to be ready after treatment. Lastly, since the blood was a bit messy, she needed to prepare two towels to make sure everything would be wiped down.

Her fingers are about to reach out when the soldier speaks, voice raspy yet firm -

"Don't touch me."

She stops, Kyle stops too. He's just nearby and getting the disinfectant ready, but he heard those three words - and the rest that would follow - loud and clear all over the din in the tent.

"Are you going to finish the work of the Jack of Spades? Part of your little Black Army family?" there's sardonic laughter - it goes on for a while, doing absolutely nothing to diffuse a palpable tension, then it's replaced by an angry growl. "I won't allow you, Alice - I definitely- "

"...op that."

Kyle looks over his shoulder. She said something, didn't she? Did she reach her limit? Was she going to cry, or -

"What did you - "

"Stop that," Idike repeats, high-pitched voice struggling not to shout but it doesn't mask the sheer emotion in her words that practically hiss themselves through her teeth. "I don't care if you don't like me, don't trust me, or if you think that I'm a Black Army spy! But don't you think for a second that I'm going to leave you here to bleed just because you said so!"

"How dare you - "

"How dare you! Do you think that your suspicion of me will mean anything when you end up dead!? Does it matter more to you than your own life!?"

The soldier lets out a gasp. Idike takes in a deep breath but she holds her tongue as she gets to work, lithe fingers unbuttoning the jacket with fervor.

Ah, she really needed those scissors.

"... You can doubt me all you want," she says, voice still struggling to keep itself leveled as she stared at the soldier straight in the eye, "But please do make sure to live through this, first."

And with that Idike stalks away, murmuring something about scissors, a shirt, and some towels. Kyle watches her go, lips quirking themselves into a smile, something like pride gleaming onto his expression.

Behind him, he hears a something like a whimper - then a sniffle.

"You heard the lady," Kyle chuckles, plucking out a bottle of salve from a trolley. "Glad to know I'm not the only one she gets angry at."

The Nine of Spades' specialty was archery - a rough approximate of men under his command was at least forty to fifty: half of them were trained in the art of archery, while the rest were trained swordsmanship or the art of wielding longer weapons like polearms in order to protect and keep enemies away from their ranged half. A group with good range.

The Seven of Spades on the other hand had probably around sixty to eighty men in his troop, and their weapon of choice were either blades or axes. When disarmed, the troop had no problem engaging opponents head on with their fists and legs. Quite appropriate, seeing that the Seven of Spades was rather bulky himself. A unit of great brawn.

Now, the Queen of Hearts had a total of a hundred and forty-five men under his command; all rigorously trained to be versatile in both melee and ranged weaponry, and also capable of manipulating magic to their advantage when deemed necessary. However, given that occupation of a village only required a minimum dispatch for convenience, that grand number was reduced to thirty at the moment.

Thirty, plus two Chosen.

Against two units with also possibly reduced numbers, but nonetheless still an advantage combined with knowing the general territory and geography better.

"Perhaps my uninvited appearance was a stroke of luck," Edgar muttered, sparing a glance upwards. Dawn was finally painting the sky... which meant that they were taking longer than expected.

"For once, I agree with you," Jonah huffed as he picked up a broken javelin off the ground - without bothering to aim he throws it ahead of him, and the sharp end pierces an opponent's thigh. The man shouts as his knees buckle, and one of Jonah's soldiers takes the opportunity to knock the man out. "Dealing with the Nine of Spades' flimsy unit would be easier if not for their annoying arrows!"

"If the whole or even half the unit of the Seven of Spades is in attendance, then we may have a problem," Edgar shrugs as two men, unarmed but with eagerly raised fists, rush at him at the same time: it only takes a sweep to the side, a swift kick to the back of the knees, and a single arc strike with his saber - to make his enemies fall face flat on some grass. "We can make do with our numbers granted that we avoid any major injury or arrow, but our endurance will be put to the test at this rate."

Jonah says nothing, but his narrowed gaze flickers to the pouch secured on his belt.

Edgar, of course, had already taken that into account - magic could dramatically alter their odds, but it was hard to tell whether the time was right to use it. While they knew their opponents, they couldn't say the same for their numbers; or their equipment. The Black Army had a limited supply of magic crystals, but what were the chances that the Nine or Seven of Spades' squads had crystals with them? Then there was also the issue of -

"Qu-Q-Qu-Queen Jonah!"

The two turn their heads to an ally running towards their direction, cap missing and face pale.

Jonah's brows furrowed as he stared at his subordinate: parts of his uniform and his face was stained with something dark, resembling soot -

And it's also then that Edgar catches a trace of movement from the corner of his eye, from the grove leading to a forest near the village: a glimpse of black cloth, flutter akin to a robe -

"My Queen, several houses have been set on fire!"

"Y'know, he was that same guy who didn't want you anywhere near his wound back then."

"Oh... Back when I just started as your assistant?"

"Yup. Good times, huh?"

A smile touches Idike's lips, hands taking hold of another sheet hanging on the clothesline. Oh, how she missed the feeling of warm sunshine on her skin and winds playing with her hair - stepping out of the medical tent for a bit to get the laundered cloths was a good choice.

Kyle also seemed to enjoy the brief respite, seeing as he was busying himself with stretching his arms and rotating his neck.

"Is he okay? It's good that none of his vitals were hit, but he lost a lot of blood..."

"Don't worry about it. He'll get better in time - even if your outburst made him go all emotional."

She goes quiet, fingers focused on folding the sheet in her hands. It's all well and good that her words actually meant something to that soldier, but in turn -

Are you going to finish the work of the Jack of Spades?

- those spiteful words haven't left her mind, either.

Part of your little Black Army family?

A frustrated sigh escapes her, but she quickly tries to swallow it down and settle for refolding the sheet instead - there's the crunching of grass behind her as she spreads out the whole sheet once more, and then suddenly she feels the weight of a warm hand on top of her head.

Idike stops.

"Hey, you should be the one reassuring me or something." Kyle says - he takes a step forward to stand beside her, his hand still on her head.

"About what?" she asks, breathing in the smell of crisp cotton in the air.

"About them, your folks back at the Black Army. That they'll be alright. You of all people should know how strong they are, yeah?"

Silence falls in between them, pregnant yet comfortable until she lets out a soft laugh; her shoulders drooping and hands shaking.

Yes, she knew, even if she only spent a few days with them, even if she only got to properly talking to five of their Chosen. She had a feeling that no matter how much Fenrir Godspeed, the Ace of Spades, wanted to test out his guns; he would never kill in cold blood or allow himself to be killed in turn. She believed that despite how feminine Seth Hyde, the Ten of Spades, appeared and acted; he possessed as much or even more strength than his rank required and demanded of him. She's aware that even Luka Clemence, the Jack of Spades, so quiet and aloof; strapped his heavy claymore constantly on his back and it definitely wasn't just for show. She witnessed herself that Sirius Oswald, Queen of Spades, dared not carry a weapon; but instead offered every spare second of his time and tactical ability for the pure benefit of the Black Army.

And she understood - if only just a little - how much Ray Blackwell, King of Spades, treasured the boundless freedom in a peaceful every day.

She still believed in them - even if she wasn't fighting with them.

"... I know," she whispers, words carried by the winds. She turns her head to face Kyle, lips easing themselves into a wry grin. "After all, they're the ones giving us so much work."

He stares at her, at the blue of eyes - before breaking into laughter and ruffling her hair.

Kyle, as punishment for ruining her already mussed up hair; ends up helping her gather the remaining pieces of cloths on the clothesline, folding them, and putting each piece neatly inside the large basket she brought out from the medical tent. It's only then does she discover that he can't fold a measly towel without fumbling around with it, but after some grumbling attempts he gets better - he's folding towel number five when she stops and stares at the next piece of fabric she had to take down from the line.

A pristine white glove.

Gingerly she frees the small thing from a clothespin and takes it into her hands, cradling it as if fragile: a finger traces over the surface where a tear used to be, now nowhere to be seen thanks to tiny stitches patching it shut.

Secrets, whether minor or major, can be such incriminatory things... don't you agree?

After a little more staring she raises her head and speaks, her voice a little louder for Kyle - the first person of the Red Army she exchanged a normal look with, the first person of the Red Army she had come to genuinely respect - to hear.

I want to believe in them, too.

"Say, Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"What if I told you that," she pauses to look at him before continuing, "Idike isn't my name?"

He tears his gaze away from towel number five to find her figure amidst and across all the fluttering whites, an eyebrow raised.

"... What, it isn't?"

She smiles a bit. "It's a nickname."

"Is it, now?" he blinks. The winds continue to blow softly; playing around with the sheets, the ends of his coat, and the strands of her honey-blonde hair.

"Let's hear it, then. Your full, real name."

From afar, his eyes follow the movements of her lips as she articulates the syllables of her name.

Her full name, figures. Does the Black Army even know that she was going by her nickname? Why was she telling him this now? Was it common for Land of Reason folk to give out their nicknames first before their names proper after some time had passed? Or was it really her intention to keep her name a secret from the moment she fell into Cradle?

Her earnest, almost relieved expression on her face told him otherwise, though - she's watching him with clear eyes, as if waiting.

So he rolls those same syllables on his tongue, the letters coming out steady and unsure on his mouth. He says it once -

"... That's right," she nods.

- repeats it again -

"Yes?"

- tries thrice -

"... Kyle. Are you making fun of me?"

She's openly frowning at him in an instant, the solemnity gone from her expression just like that, and he can't help but snort.

"I'll stick to Idike," he says, turning his head back to towel number five. Darned long piece of cotton. "Shorter. Less complicated. Is that why you go by your nickname instead?"

"... Admittedly, yes. It is a bit hard to say, isn't it? Even I had a hard time saying it when I was a child and most of my friends thought so, too. Now that I think about it, that's probably why it grew to be a habit of mine to introduce myself with my nickname."

"Huh. Your name isn't that bad. But y'know, since you were so serious earlier... I was starting to think that your name must be something complicated or embarrassing to the point that you'd keep it a secret."

"Hey!"

"It's a good thing we found someone to carry that basket of yours, huh?"

"... Kyle. The clotheslines are just behind the med tent - we could've carried the basket back ourselves!"

"Carry something that heavy? You're stronger than I thought! You exercise regularly?"

"What the - no! And you're exaggerating, a basket of cloths isn't that heavy!"

"Hey, that isn't good. You should exercise regularly, or else you'll get fat."

"You're missing the point!"

Kyle chuckles, watching Idike puffing out her cheeks like a little kid not taken seriously - they're only steps away from going back inside the medical tent when a clamor reaches their ears and makes them stop where they stand, both of them instinctively looking for the source of the noise.

"Did something happen?" she mumbles. Kyle shrugs in response, but he does squint his eyes to try to see what's ahead of them: the reinforced wooden walls surrounding the garrison, red banners swaying in the breeze, soldiers moving about, and -

"... horses."

Three of them, to be exact: pretty white stallions, as prim and regal as the Red Army uniform, getting larger and clearer as they approach. Idike squints and she sees them too, a hum of awe leaving her lips.

"Where do you think they're going?"

"Nice question. They're moving pretty quick, so maybe to the commander's tent. But they can also be heading - "

The horses still spur forward, sound of hooves hitting the earth starting to reach their ears. So far not showing signs of swerving to the left, therefore not heading to the center of the camp.

There's only one more place where soldiers would hurry to in times of war.

" - towards us."

"A good morning to you both," Edgar greets doctor and assistant oh-so-casually as he dismounts, like there weren't two unconscious men strapped to the back of his horse. The two soldiers who rode alongside him dismount as well, also revealing someone unconscious laying on their horse's back. Idike winces as she goes over to them, asking what happened with a brow creased by obvious worry.

Kyle sniffs the air and frowns - it gets deeper when he studies Edgar and his companions: parts of their uniforms, particularly their sleeves, caps, and boots were far from clean. They looked like they decided to spend some time rolling around in a fireplace. "You lot smell like smoke. Was your mission to set something on fire?"

"You wound me. I wouldn't dream of using such a brazen tactic if the great risks applied to our side as well. Sadly, the opponent didn't share the same sentiment."

"The opponent?"

Edgar smiles but says nothing more. Instead, he gets to removing the straps that held the men secure on his horse.

"These are men under our Queen that suffered from severe burns. That, combined with either a round of beatings, mauls from an axe, or arrow shots; courtesy of the Seven and Nine of Spades' units. I performed some amount of first aid with the help of magic crystals before bringing them here, and I'm sure you can handle the rest."

"Will do," Kyle watches as Idike ran up a nearby group of soldiers, presumably to get help in carrying the injured to the tent. It takes a few seconds of talking and gestures but she comes out successful, a group of able-bodies heading their way. "Still, you look pretty shabby yourself - sure that you ain't hiding a couple of burns?"

Edgar snorts - two soldiers approach him, saluting and offering to carry the unconscious to the medical tent in his stead. Nodding, he moves aside and lets them.

"I believe those words are meant for Jonah - he's the one who rushed towards a row of burning houses to save his men, I'll have you know. He also adamantly insisted that I bring them back to you - it's a good thing I decided to procure and hide away some horses beforehand."

"Heh. Cunning as ever, our Jack; as noble as ever, our Queen. Are you heading back to wherever you came from?"

"Along with reinforcements, yes. I believe Jonah has the situation under control by now, but there's much work that needs to be resolved."

"... Resolved, huh? That's a funny way to put it," Kyle shrugs, about to walk away. "Well, whatever. Just make sure to drag yourselves back here when you're done - and don't even think about skipping out on treatment, you hear me?"

With Kyle heading back to the medical tent Edgar stops to adjust his gloves, mismatched palettes splattered with shades of unsavory colors: earthy browns, crushed greens, murky reds, charcoal black. There was little to no trace of its pure white glory, but that was hardly anything new to him at this point.

They weren't damaged today, though. Not a single hole, tear, or rip.

Hm. Would she have noticed again if there were?

The thought escapes him just as fast as it crosses his mind, causing him to shake his head. As he told Kyle, there was still work to resolve and also things he needed to investigate; which meant he had no time to dawdle. Regaining his focus, he's about to mount himself on his horse when -

"Edgar!"

The call rings loud in his ears, echoing like the chime of a bell: there's no waver of hesitation, tremble of nervousness, or shake of anger.

It's just her and her clear voice, calling out his name.

So he turns around, smile at the ready, words planned out and ready to leave his lips once he'd see her face, but -

- it all comes to a halt when something damp touches his forehead.

His shoulders jolt slightly, surprised at the cool sensation but he doesn't pull himself away. It dawns on him that she's wiping his face with what looked like her handkerchief; the white square patterned with daffodils tracing his forehead, the curve of his cheeks, the lines of his jaw, and even the tip of his chin.

It happens all so fast and gentle, such well-practiced motions on her part.

And when she pulls away, hand holding a soiled handkerchief to her chest, she tells him:

"Be careful."

Their gazes lock together - steady and unafraid, jade meeting blue.

And that was the third time Alice the Second treated the Jack of Hearts.

"Jonah informed me that you joined him without warning on his mission."

Ah, here we go.

Keeping his smile calm, Edgar stood still under his King's scrutiny. With the two of them only left in the commander's tent and with those eyes blue as ice highlighted eerily by the lamps, the air suddenly felt quite heavy.

"That, I did."

"Your help in subjugating the Seven and Nine of Spades' troops was greatly appreciated. But explain yourself."

Lancelot Kingsley leaned back on his chair, but by no means did his imposing tone or aura lighten.

"Do allow me to address my insubordination first - if you find it fitting to punish me immediately, then I shall gladly accept and reflect on my actions." Edgar bows low, eyes set on the ground. "On the other hand, my King, if were to explain my actions; I believe it's because I've been finding our current advantage over the Black Army rather odd."

"Odd, you say... Do you find it so surprising that we've been emerging victorious on each encounter we have with the enemy?"

"Nothing of the sort. In fact, it's the expected outcome even before the war began." Edgar raises his head with a shrug, the smile on his lips still present. "But considering the recent reports of the Chosen and the village conquest the Queen and I experienced... I can't help but think that there's a third party meddling, or, should I say... assisting our cause in the most peculiar manner."

There's a brief pause, poignant yet also brimming with the tension of a challenge.

Edgar lets it sit very still, simmer a little further, then speaks up again.

"Or it may be a result of incredible chance," he says, adapting a lighter tone. "Whatever the case, I find it quite unsettling and insulting, as well. We certainly aren't so weak or foolish to require such aid; it's like our army's capabilities are sorely underestimated. And in addition to that... we also have Alice the Second as our trump card, do we not?"

Lancelot's eyes narrow ever so slightly.

There weren't much sheets today, but there were a hefty amount of towels.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she rises from her laundry spot; a quaint area by the riverbank with a patch of soft grass to sit on and with a comfortable arm's reach to the river's waters without the need to bend excessively. Stretching her arms upward, she finds herself staring up at the sky.

It's dark, but beautifully cluttered and lightened with stars. Sign of another day gone - four about to turn to five days of a war still raging.

Her arms eventually fall to her sides and she picks up her laundry basket, keeping her grip tight on the handle. Even if her nighttime laundry duties were something like her brief respite away from the medical tent, she couldn't - no, she didn't allow herself to stay out for too long.

If she did, she's not so sure that she could return calm and smiling like Kyle could always do.

If I have another outburst, I'm not so sure I can stop myself again.

So instead, she distracts herself with thoughts of work as she makes her way to the back of the medical tent and to the clotheslines: after hanging up laundry, she might as well head to the mess hall and grab some dinner for herself and Kyle, and also for the volunteers helping them out if the portions can fit in the basket. After dinner, check the condition of the critically wounded, see if they needed anything like bandages to be changed. Speaking of bandages, were there still enough of those going around in trolleys of the tent? When was the last time they restocked? She'd better ask when she gets back.

The list gets long, longer, and so on and so forth; and her feet have the urge to pick up the pace, until -

... Hm?

"Off with only a warning... how gracious."

If you insist looking for your... third party, then so be it. But remember where you stand, Edgar - you have your own duties to fulfill in this war. One misstep, and you might as well be at the mercy of your so-called chance.

So he's been granted permission to investigate, given that it doesn't interfere with his missions and that he proceeds with caution. The King doesn't address the idea of there being an actual third party, but the lack of confirmation or denial might as well mean that it was plausible... and that he was aware of its existence, himself.

As for Alice... her ability still serves to be of use to us, so it would do well to keep her close. She is, as you say, a trump card in this war... and it's important to keep our advantages hidden until the time is right.

Simply put, the King was protecting her and if Edgar were to wager a guess, it wasn't in fear of the Black Army taking her back. If the King really saw her to be the advantage that she was, he still would've brought her to the front lines; but not with the freedom to continue her duties as the doctor's assistant.

For were she still the same person that she was two and a half weeks ago, Alice would've jumped at any chance of escape.

But at a drop of a hat, she changed. To army that gave her nothing but grief upon her arrival in Cradle, to the men who drew their swords at her and threatened to end her life, to those that kept her on the edge for days with their wary looks, and even to him who took her away from the Black Army by force... she chose to extend her hands to each and every one of them with a newfound purpose simply on her mind.

To help them.

To keep them alive.

It hardly made any sense, and in all honesty there little to no things that could leave him so vexed in a short amount of time.

How does she do it?

Was there truly a person in the world who was that tolerant?

How was it possible to turn obvious distrust into genuine kindness so quickly, without fear of betrayal?

"... Edgar?"

Ah - he's aware that just by thinking about an individual cannot summon said person like magic, but when he looks up he really sees her in the flesh, standing in front of him and holding a filled laundry basket in both hands. Her apron has added splotches on it with each new color just as equally suspicious as the older ones, honey-blonde hair still a haphazard plait now resting on her shoulder, and the new tickling smell of soap wafting from her figure presumably a result from doing laundry.

There are still bags overstaying their welcome under her eyes, but what he studies is the curious glint in them when she asks:

"... Can I help you with that?"

One minute ago they're enfolded by silence and a cool night's breeze, then the next she's suddenly laughing quietly to herself, features softened by a kind smile.

"Really. Are we going to keep meeting like this?"

He matches her smile, keeping his bare arm still outstretched.

"I hope not. I'd like to experience a day where I take care of you, for a change."

Idike chuckles, starting to wrap a bandage around his left forearm. To be fair, if her eyes weren't drawn to the light coming from his lantern as she was making her way back to the medical tent, they wouldn't be in this situation. But they were, and not so far away she saw the Jack of Hearts sitting cross-legged under a large tree, stripped of his long coat and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Curious, it was only when she stepped a bit closer did she realize what he was doing.

He was doing his own first aid and from the looks of it, he was already halfway done.

Now she sat beside him on the grass, helping him with the finishing touches.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Certainly. I still intend to make a good effort on becoming your friend, if you recall."

"Even if you don't trust me?"

His eyes widen for a fraction of a second. The bandage continues to wrap itself around his skin with her guidance, coiling like a snake.

Two seconds.

Three.

"... Say, Edgar? Is it alright if you listen to me for a bit?"

"... Of course."

She hums for a bit, keeping her eyes trained on the bruises on his arm, on the bandage she was trying to secure.

"When Kyle took me in as his assistant... I took up his offer for the wrong reasons. At first, I only saw working by his side as a guarantee for my safety in Red Army headquarters, and maybe my first patients understood that, too - when I began helping out in the infirmary, there were some soldiers that gave me odd looks but said nothing; then there was also this one person who refused my help outright, claiming that I'd poison him there and then."

Ah, yes - the soldier from our Eight's unit, Edgar muses, but doesn't say. The day that the Seven of Hearts declared Alice the Second as his assistant did cause quite the commotion in the barracks.

"I wasn't offended, really - I felt nervous since he was glaring at me, sure, but in the end being Kyle's assistant was my decision so I treated him anyway. I figured that all those pointed looks and that accusation was justified considering who I was to this world, and that I was with the Black Army at the start."

"... That is, until I forced you to come with me."

His comment prompts her to flash him a wry smile before continuing. The bruises are now hidden under strips of white.

"I wasn't angry or hurt, so I just took in all their suspicion. Besides, I couldn't find it in myself to turn a blind eye on someone who was injured - I may have made my decision to become Kyle's assistant for my own sake, but I wanted to help people in need... that much was genuine. I wanted to save lives."

A brief pause. When she speaks again, her voice shakes slightly.

"... So earlier this morning, when that same soldier who accused me refused my help again, and went as far as saying I'd kill him since he was already in such bad shape... something in me just... snapped."

A dry laugh escapes her - it's a heavy mix of frustration and anger and he could tell that it was still a bit raw; that those two feelings still took hold and grew root in her somewhere, not dissipating in the slightest.

So even the benevolent can feel such profound emotion.

"I... tried my best not to yell at him, even if I wanted to. I had so much, so much to say to him. About me. About the Black Army. About him being so stupid for rejecting help. About our patients in the medical tent, about how they all wanted to recover and live. About how Kyle and I and all the volunteers were giving our all every single day just to look out for everyone."

The bandage is now wrapped securely on his forearm, and she ties it nicely despite her fingers quivering.

"... I... I hardly said any of those, in the end. But when I got some time to clear my head... I wish I could've said something else from the start. Something I was reminded of... just this morning, too."

She stops moving, eyes still downcast. Her fingers still hold his wrist, her warmth mingling with his skin.

"... And what would that be?" he asks.

Idike goes quiet again, so he listens to her breathing as he waits.

A heavy inhale by the nose, a quiet sigh through her mouth.

"You know - "

Her voice has found itself again and it has turned itself into a solemn whisper, dainty fingertips of her free hand now tracing over his bandaged forearm then to the exposed flesh of his wrist; his skin tingling at the light drag of her nails on them.

" - I can't heal you if you're dead."

She speaks the obvious, but of a topic that someone of her disposition most likely wouldn't talk about often, much less willingly mention unless -

Ah, he mouths.

Such was the effect of death.

The night continued to stretch on, tainting the sky pitch black but adding it with stars, bountiful and twinkling.

"... Edgar."

"... Yes, Alice?"

"Why do you allow me to treat you?"

No actual reason - but perhaps out of personal interest.

"Because you willingly offered your aid."

That was true as well - she approached him with all her honest intentions clearly written on her face, and he accepted it.

"Even if you don't trust me?"

Ah... Is that what it looks like to you?

"You seem to be mistaken. I never claimed to be suspicious of you."

Being extremely cautious around a young woman with a revolutionary ability but with a heart of gold hardly seemed necessary.

"But - you noticed I kept my name a secret, and I thought - "

If you were thinking that I thought you to be dangerous or something similar because of that, then you've misunderstood me completely.

"I apologize if my approach to you that night felt like an interrogation. But if anything else, your reactions made it very clear to me... you had your own reasons for doing so, correct? It gave me little reason to prod further or fault you for it."

Although if she was affected this much by his parting words, then it's a sign that she's learned that secrecy wasn't to be taken so lightly in times of war - how funny that he; the Jack of Hearts, would be the one to teach her that.

She seemed to have heard enough, her fingers finally releasing his wrist to fall back on her lap. Again, he finds himself wishing that he could see her face - she had used him, in some sense, to air out the pent-up emotions she's been holding in for heavens know how long. Did her moment of catharsis make her feel any better? Was his input or presence of enough use? What change would this conversation bring about in her? Would it be for the best, or for worse?

Was there a smile or a pained expression on her features?

Really, what was going through her mind right now?

Slowly, he finds himself reaching out a hand to her.

And that was the fourth time Alice the Second treated the Jack of Hearts.

"Enemy squadrons spotted ahead! The Queen and Ace of Spades appear to be at the helm!"

Their King isn't present...? Zero narrowed his eyes, focusing on the silhouettes that became clearer on the other side of the Black Bridge as they approached. True to what was announced, he could only see the ever so composed figure of Queen of Spades and the oddly colored shock of hair known only to the Ace of Spades; their mounts a few steps ahead from the group trailing behind them.

"Well now - to have their Queen out on the field... perhaps their King is out on much urgent business?"

Zero glances at Edgar - there's a smile playing on the oddball's lips as usual, but years of grudging acquaintanceship helped interpret that a little further: the man was grinning, and that meant Edgar Bright was most likely in good spirits - may mercy find the poor souls unfortunate enough to cross blades with the demon today.

That aside, having Sirius Oswald on the front lines was unusual. Would an actual negotiation be held on this Bridge, or was the Black Army plotting something else?

The soldiers started to murmur among themselves, but then the clear cut voice of their King resonated among their ranks.

"It hardly matters if the King of Spades has business somewhere else - Red Army, I expect all of you to stand your ground. We are here for a negotiation as they requested, and if this happens to a pretense... I see no reason why we shouldn't retaliate in response: it will also serve as a good lesson for a King who seems to forget his Army's position as it stands in this war."

Zero felt a chill run up his spine. Speeches from the King, where charisma and callousness would mix, were really something else to the ears.

"May glory run crimson through our veins," Lancelot recited.

"May glory run crimson through our veins," came Zero's and the Red Army's reply, perhaps loud enough for the incoming Black Army to hear.

It happens in quick steps, like a practiced dance as they were to meet the Black Army halfway through the bridge:

First, it starts with Zero's horse unable to stay still for a second: he manages to calm it down, and from the corner of his eye he sees Edgar resolving the same problem as well -

Second, the winds that kept on blowing around the bridge suddenly died down, Black Army banners finally staying still on their poles: this would not be unusual if the air didn't feel so thin all of a sudden too, making breathing a little harder than it should be -

Third, the air simply isn't thin anymore: a tingling charge, prompting hair to stand on end and filling one with a sense of alertness and jitters, starts to creep in as Zero breathes and it downright makes him feel sick to his stomach with familiarity -

Fourth, everyone seems to get the feeling that something's wrong: from the right end of the bridge the King of Hearts abruptly orders his soldiers to stop, and from the left end Zero hears the Queen of Spades shouting a similar command, but -

Fifth: the pavement they are on literally starts crumbling. No one sees why it happens but it just does; starting from the center of the bridge then spreading quickly from the sides, the road breaking into cracks then growing to fissures then gaps in all directions and it just goes on; wider and larger and faster and it doesn't just stop for anyone and the cracking sounds continue to grow louder and stronger -

And in all the chaos of crumbling rocks, neighing horses, and astonished and panicked screaming; the Ace and Jack of Hearts turn around, concerns on one thought and one thought alone -

"King Lancelot!"

"Do you recognize them?"

"Yes. This person is from Sirius' unit, while these three are under Fenrir."

Kyle lets out a sigh, staring at the four odd men out in the medical tent. No one would dare do anything to them in this place, but still -

"I still can't believe it," Idike's brow furrows as she wipes the forehead of the one she claimed to be under the Queen of Spades, "How could something as grand like the Black Bridge collapse? You don't suppose it's the work of..."

She trails off to shoot him with a knowing look, and he shrugs in response.

"Making a bridge like that collapse isn't a feat an army can even do on short notice. It's definitely a possibility."

But if they're willing to pull off something this big without a care of the aftermath, it's either this whole thing was a display of power or a warning.

Kyle lets out another sigh, shifting his gaze towards her instead: the headstrong bottomless appetite confectioner turned temporary doctor's assistant for a month, also known as Alice the Second.

His sort-of drinking buddy.

His sort-of student in the medical practice.

His assistant.

When he calls out her name - her real name - her head snaps to face him immediately, only to find him walking his way to the tent's entrance. He parts the cloth with the back of his hand, and a cool night's wind flows into the tent.

"Got a second?" Kyle asks as he looks at her over his shoulder, faint moonlight streaming down his feet. "We need to talk."

"Zero! Look up! There's a floating marshmallow in the sky!"

"... One more ridiculous comment out of you, and I'm seriously going to abandon your corpse in this forest."

Edgar chuckled. It's a good thing his back was leaning on Zero's own to help his body stabilize itself - riding a horse backward was turning out to be a fun experience.

"How rude, Zero. I'm in perfect health, yet you call me a corpse? As your mentor, I'm dreadfully hurt..."

"You're a corpse in a different sense of the word," Zero mutters, keeping himself focused on maneuvering his horse around the dark forest path. "And what part of you is in perfect health right now? You fell off a collapsing bridge alongside an incredible amount of rubble down a twenty-meter lake - if I didn't know better, I wouldn't have guessed that you survived. "

"How touching. But yes, despite a head injury and a number of unfortunate scrapes, I live to tell the tale: my first time utilizing the precautionary magic crystals each Red soldier is given before battle, for the sake of saving myself from an unexpected situation. It's amazing how I suddenly regained consciousness, lying face flat on some shore."

"... King Lancelot says his thanks. If we didn't react the way we did, he wouldn't had enough time to compose himself."

"Oh...? Did he use magic to resolve things?"

"... He did. He also apologizes for being unable to reach you in time."

Edgar hums, closing his eyes. He didn't mind not being rescued, but what bothered him was in the end; the Beautiful Beast still saved the day with his magic: it's not the outcome Edgar would've wanted for his King, but it's the outcome he would've expected of from his King.

Surely the man knew that his powers were linked to his lifespan but there he goes once more, ignoring all that in favor for doing a noble deed.

"Kyle is going to throw a fit once he hears that our King used magic again."

"If he can even find King Lancelot, that is." Zero says, grip tightening on the reins. "After settling the bridge incident, issuing additional orders, and assigning my unit to search for possible survivors like you; he's nowhere to be found."

"Oh dear. Did he look terrible or as stoic as ever?"

"You shouldn't use those words to describe your commander. But those who last saw him said he looked awfully pale."

Edgar didn't have anything else to say after that.

When he opens his eyes, he sees the sky, maybe. All black and white and hazy. Kind of like his mind at the moment.

His eyes are struggling, too. But he can still see the floating marshmallow.

It's oddly shaped though. It's circular, sort of tiny. Coin-sized. Far up and away.

Oh.

"Am I dead?" Edgar says, voice low and serious. He felt the jump of Zero's shoulders as soon as he spoke.

"... And here I thought you'd be sleeping until we made it back. So much for peace and quiet."

"Zero. Am I dead?"

"Get a grip. You're alive."

"But you called me a corpse earlier."

"What are you, suddenly five years old? I didn't mean it literally."

"Ah. So that means I can still be healed."

"Kyle and Idike will do their best once I get you to them."

"But the marshmallow must've taken her away already."

"... What nonsense are you going on about now?"

Zero waits for a reply, but it doesn't come.

It's Kyle who first notices Zero enter the medical tent - a casual hey followed by a query about the bridge incident is about to leave his mouth but once he sees the Ace, the first thing he blurts out instead is:

"What is that, a sack of potatoes?"

"You're insulting potatoes," Zero answers flatly - he was effortlessly carrying the unconscious Edgar on one shoulder, face not showing a single sign of strain. "Do you have an empty cot right now?"

"Yeah, take your pick - " Kyle points to several areas of the tent in rapid succession, then he squints at Edgar. "Wow. Never thought I'd really see the day. You really sure this is our Jack of Hearts and not a sack of potatoes?"

"You're the doctor, you tell me," Zero starts moving towards the nearest cot, and Kyle follows. "Not sure if it's everything, but Edgar told me he has a head injury and scrapes - he managed to survive the whole fall by using all the magic crystals he had."

"Just like some of his guys from his unit did, huh? He must've taught them well on how to use their magic crystals."

"But I doubt Edgar taught them to risk their own lives to try and save him."

"Aw, but look on the bright side," Kyle grins as Zero sets Edgar's body carefully on the cot. "There are people around willing to help out our Gentle Demon - isn't that a good thing?"

Too bright.

That's what his eyes are trying to say, but he opts to force them open anyway. Eyelids still heavy, all he can manage now is to make them flutter slowly - it's a start.

Strong smells of disinfectant and blood flood his nose each time he breathes, which meant that Zero successfully delivered him to the medical tent and he didn't even notice. That head injury might've been worse than he initially thought. How many hours have passed? How long had he been asleep? Was it still night or was it already midnight - or past midnight?

"... Oh? Waking up?"

Among the various voices and noises in the tent, his ears could pick out that one languid voice, just nearby.

Kyle.

"... It's due to surprise," Edgar manages to say, his throat a bit dry. "I can't seem to smell not a single whiff of alcohol on you, how tragic."

Eyes starting to regain their focus, he manages to see Kyle's face looking down at him with a lopsided grin.

"Sheesh. Just woke up and you've already got something smart to say. Can't we get a thank you instead?"

Edgar laughs softly. "... That seems lacking though. Do you accept caramel corn as thanks?"

Kyle immediately scowls. "You and your awful food preferences. What kind of thanks is junk food, anyway?"

Before Edgar could answer with a compelling narration on the value of junk food, another voice pipes up, light and distinct.

"I'll have it if you don't want it, Kyle."

... Did he hear right?

He blinks once, twice, thrice; and there she is in the flesh, entering his line of vision: a young woman with honey-blonde hair, blue eyes, a smile on her lips.

Oh.

"Hello there, stranger," Alice the Second says.

With the doctor shuffling himself away to attend to another patient, Idike remains by Edgar's side. When he manages to sit up, she hands him a cup of warm water.

"How are we feeling? Does anything still hurt?"

He shakes his head, draining the cup in a few gulps before handing it back to her.

"... Today is the night of the full moon."

"I know," she replies casually, taking the cup back in her hands. "The view from here was gorgeous, too. Is the moon always that pretty, wherever you are in Cradle?"

"I've never given it much thought."

"Really? That's a shame."

She pulls up the chair next to the cot and sits, setting the empty cup on a nearby trolley. He's watching, waiting, and when she looks at him; she's smiling again.

"I didn't go back. To the Land of Reason, I mean."

"I can see that."

"Kyle tried to talk me out of it, saying that I should go back to my peaceful world. You know how he hates people foolish enough to throw away their own lives? If I went back, I told him that it would be the same as abandoning those same lives and others I might be able to save - like yours, for instance."

He blinks for a moment upon hearing her last statement.

"That's noble of you. But surely you know that means seeing this war - no matter what the outcome - to the very end."

"I can do it. I will do it. It'll be tough, but I'll push through - I have to."

Resolution makes her eyes shine, beautiful in its utmost clarity. He's drawn to the sight, semblance of a response forgotten.

"Oh! By the way, I never thanked you that night we talked."

"... You don't need to. I was merely listening to your thoughts."

"That may be true, but it helped me a lot. So... thank you, Edgar. And I'm glad you're safe."

She beams at him with a smile reminiscent of warm sunshine on skin, and he's lost in it even further when she adds:

"Welcome back."

"... Alice."

It slips out of his mouth even before he realizes it: she's about to leave, chair neatly set aside and feet ready to go elsewhere, but she stops to the sound of his voice calling. She peers at him curiously, and it dawns on him that he's made a mistake.

This isn't like me at all.

"... I realized that you still haven't told me something," Edgar says slowly, as if carefully listening to his own words as well.

A tilt of the head to the side, a series of blinks. "I haven't?"

He nods, then it hits him.

"Your name."

They go quiet for a few seconds. Her face is blank; he studies her with a half-serious expression.

When she laughs, he finds himself staring again.

"I can't believe," her features soften with obvious amusement, "that you're so hung up over a nickname."

So it's a nickname.

"Am I?" he eases his lips into the usual smile. "I've always believed that the first step to making friends is to tell them your name."

"... ike."

Whatever she said escaped her lips a little too fast and far too soft for his liking, drowned out by the din in the tent.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

Alice - Idike - laughs again, and somehow it manages to echo in his ears loudly than any other sound present in the medical tent. Smiling, she leans over to him a bit, raising a cupped hand to shield her lips from prying eyes, like a child would do when spilling out their secrets.

"My name, good sir, is..."

30 days remained before the next full moon...

#ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution #ikerev fanfic #edgar bright #ikerev alice #kyle ash #ikerev zero #lancelot kingsley #jonah clemence #yeEHAWS into a void: i! finally! finished! tHIS!#just in time before zero's route haha... i'm so done...

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rachel1987 · 4 years

Text

GWCFT Part 6

It’s the night of the big show! All our favorite Wonderlandians gather to show off their skills to June Hare. What acts has everyone chosen to perform? Will Hare be able to pull off his big show stopper? And what is Rabbit’s talent, anyway?

x posted on ao3 and FF.net

Hare stood backstage, his chin tilted up, Hatter's hands tying his cape around his collar. "You need to relax…" Hatter mumbled under his breath. "Everything is going to be just fine."

"How did I let you talk me into this?" he heaved, fingers twitching nervously at his chest. He had been alright all day with his mother, the shopping and monotony of it all making him forget about his nerves. But now that he was here and everyone was bustling around getting ready, a wave of nausea washed over him. He had become so nervous and preoccupied he kept knotting his cape ties and Hatter had to step in to help.

"You're last on the set list, don't worry!" Hatter said, brushing off Hare's shoulders and smoothing out the satin fabric. "Your mother is excited to watch you and you're going to be great. Besides you've never gotten nervous like this before a show before. Don't start this now."

Hare furrowed his brow and huffed a little, making him look like a child who was pouting because his mother wouldn't let him have cookies before dinner. Hatter chuckled and gave his bunny a quick smooch. "Why don't you go check on your mom, show her the pretzel machine? I have a few more things I need to do before the show starts."

"Alright," he grumped, giving the Hatter's hand a squeeze before going to his Mother's side. She was sitting in the front row by the Queen, chatting about something that probably didn't matter.

"Look at my boy!" June exclaimed, cutting the Queen off on whatever she was saying, causing her to "harumph" to herself. "You look just darling in that cape. Oh, I knew I should have brought my camera!"

Hare blushed and bounced his head around a little, rolling his eyes. "Thanks, Mom. Hello, your Majesty. Thank you for coming to our talent show."

"Yes, well," the Queen shook her hand in the air as she spoke. "I had a gap in my schedule today and thought it would be a good idea to spend some time with my subjects. After all, one needs to have a little fun from time to time."

"How true that is, your Majesty," Hare said, clasping his hands together by his chest as he spoke. "Would either of you, perhaps, like a pretzel or a drink before the show begins?"

"Yes, I would, thank you," the Queen cut in quickly, not even waiting for Hare to finish his offer before speaking. "Who knows where that Rabbit ran off to? He was supposed to bring me a drink twenty minutes ago and seems to have disappeared."

"Right away, your Majesty," Hare nodded.

"I'll go with you, son," June said as she got to her feet. "Please excuse me, your Highness."

The Queen dismissed them with a wave of her hand and turned her attention to other matters. She was watching the Tweedles spin around, practicing their routine on the other side of the courtyard and found them more interesting than anything else going on.

The pair walked to the pretzel machine that hadn't been turned on yet and Hare ran through it with his mom. "You put the dough in here, there's a salt meter and a unit that shapes, bakes and cools them so they'll be ready to eat when they come out. And a little bell you can ring when it's done."

"What are the lights for?" June asked, enchanted.

"Those are for fun," Hare smiled. "When you push them, they change colors." He then demonstrated them.

"And how do you turn it on?" she asked, brows raised in intrigue. She held her finger under her lip in a familiar pose as she listened, nodding as she took it all in.

"This knob here," Hare pointed. "But once it's on, you can't turn it off. Somehow we never figured out how to fix that. It'll just keep baking till it runs through the dough and then it'll shut down."

"Do you think…" June paused, feeling a little sheepish and her cheeks going pink. "Do you think I can turn it on?"

Hare smiled widely and guffawed. "Of course!" he hopped excitedly. "You just crank it to the left two turns."

June bit her lip and did as she was told and the machine came to life, mechanisms beeping and lights flashing. It didn't take long for the pretzels to start popping out of the contraption and Hare started piling them into bowls that were spread around the table. She seemed very impressed as she picked up one of the first pretzels, giving it a sniff and then a test nibble.

"This is delicious, son," she commended. "Not too salty, not bland. Excellent flavor. All we need is a fondue pot and this would be perfect."

"Why hadn't I thought of that…" Hare muttered to himself, thinking of his full fondue set sitting at home that hadn't been used in ages.

Suddenly, Alice was next to them, a little bit of a flustered expression on her face.

"What's the matter, Alice?" June asked, her motherly intuition rearing its head.

"Her majesty wants to know what's taking so long to get her some refreshments," she shrugged.

The three looked over at the Queen, who was shooting daggers in their direction, arms crossed over her bosom in frustration. Hare panicked a little, fingers flexing as he rushed to get her Majesty a pretzel and a wine cooler, cape whipping behind him as he ran. June and Alice followed behind, each taking some snacks and tea from the refreshment table, going to their seats casually.

The seats were filling as more of the talent and audience arrived. Caterpillar sat himself to the right of the stage, giving himself perhaps the best view out of everyone and Rabbit appeared with a gym bag which he stored behind the curtain for later. The Cat hovered over the crowd, probably already thinking of some sick burns to throw during the show to entertain himself.

Six o'clock rolled around and the Hatter took center stage, a wide smile across his face as he greeted everyone. He was looking extra spiffed up, his usual purple coat and tails speckled with glittering embellishments that sparkled as he moved.

"Ladies and gentleman, cats and Majestys! Welcome to the talent show!" There was a smattering of applause as people settled into their seats, the chatter dying down. "We have a wide array of acts lined up for you tonight. You'll laugh! You'll cry! You might not even believe your eyes! So sit back and enjoy the show." Another round of applause followed and Hatter waited for the noise to settle before introducing the first act.

"Our first act is the upbeat dance stylings of the Tweedles!" He casually stepped to the side, arm outstretched as the Tweedles came through the part in the curtain.

Dum set their oversized boombox to the side of the stage (volume set to 11) and pressed the play button, racing to center to hit his mark before the music began. They stood back to back, arms crossed over their chests, sunglasses covering their eyes for that cool hip-hop look.

The bass boomed from the speakers and they hopped into action, poppin' and lockin', ducking and weaving around each other. They synchronized their movements to each other and the music perfectly, hitting every beat with a gesture or pose that yelled nothing but hip-hop attitude. At one point they did a little rap battle, bouncing verses back and forth off each other with ease. The audience was mesmerized and feeding into their energy, getting hyped up and sucked into the show. Soon people were clapping to the beat and the Hatter couldn't stop himself from doing some dance moves from his seat just off stage. The Tweedles did some flips and jumps, landing just as the music ended, applause filling the area. They got to their feet and bowed, waving at the cheers as Hatter ushered them offstage.

"Thank you, lads. What a great first act, am I right?" Hatter said as he applauded, a bounce still in his step from the energy he gained from the show. "Really marvelous. Such a hard act to follow. But, someone has to do it! And our next act is a dramatic reading of a new story from none other than our resident storyteller, the Caterpillar."

The Caterpillar scooted his way closer to the stage, setting just off to the right of it. There was no way he was even going to attempt to get up on that tiny stage and nobody expected him to.

"Thank you, thank you…" he said to light applause that preceded him to the stage. His lowest set of hands applauded for himself, his middle hands were holding a book tightly and his top hands were moving in a downward motion, as if to settle a crowd of unruly children. "How am I meant to follow an act like that? Well, I would say, with a story." His middle hands passed the book up to his top ones and he flipped through the pages, going to one marked with a red ribbon. This was apparently his journal that his second pair of hands worked in (his best writing hands, if you'd asked him) and it was filled with all of the stories that he was working through.

"This is a story about a boy named Carl who thought it would be a good idea to go into the haunted house alone…" He read the story aloud, bringing the energy of the room down a spell from the last act. His second and third pair of hands worked with him, pulling items from a bag that was slung over one of his shoulders to act as props or sound effects as he read aloud. He droned out the story but somehow brought it to life and everyone felt like they could almost see the tale run through in their mind's eye. The story had twists and turns and one surprise after another. There was a jump scare almost ¾ of the way through that got a lot of them, Rabbit most of all. He almost hopped into the Queen's lap, causing her to make a little bit of a scene. But the Caterpillar reeled them back in to finish the story with a grim message.

"And, in the end, Carl learned that sometimes you must heed the warnings of others. Because, if you don't, the only friends you'll have are the worms in the ground who will feast upon that's left of your corpse."

The audience didn't know how to react to the story the Caterpillar chose to read to them. It was an enthralling tale, but one that probably would have been better saved for their Halloween Campfire session.

The Cat, however, loved it and howled with laughter as he applauded enthusiastically. "The little sucker got what he deserved, haha!" he boomed, tail swishing around with excitement. Everyone looked at him with confused expressions on their faces as the Caterpillar moved his way back to his original spot, Hatter taking the stage again.

"Ooh, spooky story, right folks?" he said with a nervous laugh. He was thinking that perhaps he should have screened the talent before allowing them to perform, but it was too late for that now. "I especially liked the part where the…" he paused and cleared his throat. "Anyway, thank you Caterpillar. We will keep our eyes open for when your next book is published and I'm sure we'll all be sure to grab ourselves a copy."

"I will be selling autographed anthologies after the show," he said as he settled. "Come and see me if you're interested. Oh, and no personal checks, please," he added with the wave of a finger.

"Righty roo," Hatter said with a chuckle. "Now, on to the next act. This little guy has traveled a long way from my tea table to perform his acts of daredevilry for all of you tonight! So please direct your attention to the center of the stage as I present to you: Danger Dormouse!"

Hatter pulled on a yellow cord that was to the left of the stage and the curtain went up, revealing a miniature driving obstacle course set up on a table. It was just below eye level, so even those in the back row had some sort of view of it. The stage, however, was empty of the small mouse with a motorcycle.

From off in the distance, the put-put-put of his motor could be heard and he zoomed in from under the gate door, coming up the center aisle and up a ramp and onto the stage. He was making great speed but was still visible to everyone as he hopped another ramp onto the table, doing a wheelie as his tires screeched. That earned him a surprised round of applause, most of the audience being quite shocked that the Dormouse had this sort of act in him.

About halfway through the routine, Rabbit got a tap on his shoulder and he jumped to see the Hatter there, tilting his head to the side to indicate that he was up next. Rabbit twiddled his fingers and nodded, getting to his feet and sneaking away to prepare himself without anyone noticing.

They watched the Dormouse weave through traffic cones, do a crossing on a narrow beam from one table to another and he even did a handstand on his little cycle while driving it. Every stunt he managed to land received more applause from the audience. And when he pulled off his final trick, jumping over 8 of the Hatter's tophats side-by-side, you'd have thought he had jumped the entirety of the grand canyon by the way the audience reacted. Dee and Dum were so impressed they gave him a standing ovation, thrusting their fists into the air and hooting as the little mouse stood on the stage beside his bike, bowing to everyone.

"Alright, little guy," Hatter said as he entered the stage, applauding his small friend and housemate. The curtain had been dropped behind him and there was a scuffling sound from behind it, if anyone had paid attention to hear it. "Everyone should watch themselves with this guy on the road, am I right?" That received a little bit of a laugh and the Dormouse climbed back into his bike, kicking the stand up before looking up at Hatter. "You be careful on your drive home, alright? I know you have quite a journey to make." The Dormouse chuckled and turned the motor on, zooming away and around the side of the hat house.

"Now, this next act was a last minute addition to the lineup, so even I'll be surprised by what we're about to experience," Hatter introduced as the put-put-put of the motor died away. "Let's give a round of applause for the Queen's right hand bunny, and one of my favorite furry friends, The White Rabbit."

Rabbit took the stage from behind the curtain in a black unitard, leg warmers on his fuzzy legs, sweatbands on his wrists and no roller blades. He carried a small boombox and placed a cassette tape into it, standing upright as he addressed the audience. "I will now go through a day in the life of Rabbit… through interpretive dance." He bent down and pushed the button marked "play", waiting till an early morning music started before he started bounding around the stage, waving his arms.

Everyone in the audience was completely aghast by what they had to sit through for the next few minutes. They followed Rabbit through his day, watching him mime cleaning and cooking and the various frustrations of his life, all through dance and bunny feet shuffling across the stage. Hare couldn't help but notice that his mother's eyes never left Rabbit once. It made him feel uncomfortable and he felt badly for teasing Rabbit about it at the Market the other day.

After what felt like the longest and most agonizing two minutes of their lives, everyone in the audience applauded weakly as Rabbit stood in the center of the stage, one leg lifted up behind him, his arms above his head, the music coming to an end. Rabbit later said the dance was rather invigorating. Dee said he'd rather poke his eyes out with a pencil than sit through it again. The Cheshire Cat couldn't stop cackling to himself over it, wishing he had recorded it for later viewing.

"Well, that was something, Rabbit…" Hatter said, applauding as he entered from stage right, his guitar hanging from his shoulder. He was dragging a stool behind him as he made his way to center stage. "Thank you for sharing that with us…" Rabbit gave one final bow, his ears brushing the ground, before picking up his boombox and exiting the stage.

"After that last exciting little display of talent," Hatter started as he took a seat on the stool, flipping the guitar around to his front and resting it on his knee. "We're going to slow things down a little with a song that I wrote for the occasion." There was still a buzz in the audience about the strangeness they had just experienced and they were having a little bit of a hard time focusing on the Hatter, but his calm demeanor was drawing them in slightly. Hatter strummed the strings on his guitar lazily as he spoke, warming up his fingers to play his new song.

"As everyone here knows, we have a special guest in the audience tonight: Hare's mother June. Give us a wave there, Junie. Righty roo… righty roo… She was in the paper this morning, I hope you all saw that. And so was Hare, but that's a whole other matter…" he cleared his throat, licking his lips as he plucked the cords. "And, in seeing her with Hare over the past day or two, it's gotten me thinking about my own mother: Mother Hatter. So I decided to write a song to her and I hope you'll all be patient with me as I sing it." He paused and his foot started to tap on the floor gently as he began his song with a slow and loving melody.

This was quite a departure from the wild and crazy Hatter that everyone was used to seeing. He was calm and collected, fingers moving away over the neck of the guitar, singing a sweet song about the love of a son for his mother. Hare gasped a little at the tenderness of it, his breath getting caught in his throat as he listened. This was a song directly from the heart and it was beautiful. Even the Queen had to wipe a tear from her eye because it touched her so. His sweet song filled the dimming evening with a tranquility that was surprising to everyone in the vicinity. Every act up until this point was full of energy and excitement (except perhaps for Rabbit's strange display) and this was just plain different.

The Hatter played his song through, hitting the final cords with perfect rhythm, earning him applause from everyone. Hare saw June dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief she had taken from her purse, her makeup smearing a little under her glasses. He returned his gaze to the Hatter, who looked at him and gave him a wink. God, he loved this man.

Hatter relished in the praise for perhaps a little longer than he should have, before he tugged the stool off stage. "Thank you, thank you, you're all too kind," he said with a wide grin, moving his hands in a downward motion to get them all to settle. "Still two more acts to go, folks. Does anyone need a refill on refreshments? More pretzels, we have plenty? No? Ah, righty ho. Well, you're all taking home the extras because I never want to see another pretzel again as long as I live."

Returning to the center of the stage, he maneuvered his guitar onto his back again, clearing his throat to catch everyone's attention. "Now, for a little something by our very own Alice."

Alice took the stage with a bright smile and flashing green eyes, her hands held behind her back as she addressed the crowd. "I'm afraid that I don't have a big flashy act or anything to share with you all tonight," she said with a little bit of a shrug. "But what I did bring to share are a few of my favorite poems from my world that I would like to share with all of you!"

The audience "oohed" as Alice cleared her throat and began reciting a number of poems she had taken the time to memorize over the past couple days. The poems she had chosen were by Robert Frost, TS Eliot, Emily Dickenson and Shel Silverstein, who were not completely unknown to the Wonderlandians. She never fumbled her words or paused to try to remember the next line she had to say, saying every word calmly as if she were making them up as she went along. The Queen shone with pride at the girl's display, nudging June next to her to say that she had helped her learn the words and practice them the day before. The Caterpillar made a mental note to talk to Alice about the talent who was TS Elliot sometime.

After finishing the last of her memorized works, she gave everyone a bow and stood center stage as Hatter came to join her. "Very nice, Alice! Wonderful job," he said, applauding her happily. "Everyone give her a hand!"

The audience clapped for her as she gave them one last bow, rushing to her seat beside the Tweedles in the back row. She passed Hare as she made her way, taking the time to whisper a "Good luck, mr Hare" and give him a reassuring thumbs up before taking her seat.

Hare smiled and nodded, adjusting his collar on his cape before turning his back to the audience. Normally he wasn't one to get stage fright. But this was a whole different set of circumstances. He was performing for his mother and he lacked confidence in his big finale. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, taking a moment as Hatter wound everyone up.

"Righty roo, everybody!" the Hatter said, a wide grin on his face as he introduced the final act of the night. "Everyone, hold onto your hats! This is the act we've all been waiting for! Well, I know June has, anyway," he said, giving her a playful wink, causing her to giggle from her seat. "I give you, the man of mystery, the illustrious illusionist, the Amazing Hair-raising Hare!"

Hare forced a smile on his face and turned around on his heels, holding his arms out so his cape draped over his form just right. There was a light bit of applause, a boost of it coming from where June was seated.

"Thank you, thank you!" Hare said aloud, trying to make his voice sound as confident as possible. He kept his eyes off of his mother, focusing on the other faces in the audience to put himself at ease. He found he kept eyeing Rabbit, which was obviously making the elderly bunny uncomfortable.

"For my first trick of the evening, I will show you one that may ring a bell!" He chuckled to himself, pulling from behind his back three sets of golden rings. He showed them to the audience, running his hand along the golden bands to prove that it was a continuous piece. After some fancy handwork, the three rings were linked perfectly, Hare tugging on them to show that the rings were still solid. He displayed them to the audience, walking down to the Queen and having her inspect them.

"I know gold rings and, yes, these are solid!" she said with a laugh, clearly impressed. Maybe it was the sparkle of the gold, but her eyes glittered a little.

"But what good are three rings stuck together, am I right?" Hare asked, licking his lips a little before taking two of the rings and rubbing them between his gloved fingers. Pressing hard with his fingertips, he felt the metal slip and pulled them apart with ease. He handed the free one to the Queen, before unlinking the second pair as well. Everyone applauded and Hare felt a boost in confidence as he took the three rings from the Queen, tossing them in his magic box behind the curtain and retrieving his next magical item and tucking it away in his jacket.

"For my next trick, I'll need a volunteer from the audience! And who better than my own Mother, June Hare!"

June's eyes widened as her son came down from the stage, taking her gloved hand and leading her up onto the platform with him. She stood there nervously, hands balled up and fingers laced in front of her as she watched him closely.

Everyone in the audience grew nervous when they saw Hare take the handcuffs out from his jacket pocket.

"Don't think about it, Hare!" the Queen pouted, making everyone laugh a little, causing the Hare's happy demeanor flicker a little. His eyes looked at his mother, who was beaming so wide you could see all her teeth. He put on a brave face for her.

"Worry not, your Majesty! This trick is foolproof!" Hare gestured his arm out, holding the handcuff aloft in his other hand. "I'm so confident in it, I would risk handcuffing myself to my own mother to prove that it can be done!"

It probably didn't come out the way it had sounded in his head, but his mother didn't seem offended by the statement and everyone in the audience took it as a sign that he was serious. In fact, his mother seemed a little overwhelmed by being pulled on stage. Quickly, he decided he needed to distract her and give her something to do to settle her nerves.

"But first, I will demonstrate that I can remove them from myself. Ma, if you would be so kind…" He gave her the handcuffs and she snapped them around his wrists nervously, fingers shaking a little as she did it. He took hold of her hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze before continuing. "Thank you…"

Holding his hands out in front of him, he tried to tug at the cuffs, showing that they were indeed locked onto his person. "The cuffs are securely fastened… but not for long?"

With the flip of his wrists, he twisted and turned, causing the cuffs to fall right off. Of course, all the Wonderlandians who went through the great handcuff ordeal knew how the trick worked, but Hare's mother was delighted by the trick and clapped her hands enthusiastically. Her hands reached out to inspect the cuffs for herself, eyes wide with wonder.

"As you can see, there's really nothing to it!" Hare said aloud, turning to his mother. "Now, the real test."

Hatter came on stage and assisted Hare in getting the cuffs around his and June's wrists, stepping aside to allow the act to continue.

"As you can see, the handcuffs are on tight," he raised his arm out and tugged against his mother, showing everyone that they were indeed locked and not going to move. "Now, on the count of three, the cuffs will come off as easily as they had been put on."

June watched as her son guided her in her actions without really realizing it, raising and dropping their connected arm as he counted aloud. She lifted her right arm as he counted, and on the count of three he moved his wrist, causing the cuff to rotate around hers, making them fall off easily. The audience applauded as the cuffs fell to the ground with a clatter. It seemed they were impressed that he'd actually managed to get the trick to work this time around.

Again, June clapped enthusiastically, examining her wrist as if it had been removed from her body and reattached again.

Hare ushered her off stage and back to her seat, Hatter standing on stage with a box and some more magic items when he returned.

"And now, some slight of hand!" he reached into the box and took out three small multicolored balls. With nimble hands, Hare tossed the balls up in the air, not missing a beat as the orbs did their dance. He tossed them high and low, over his shoulder and under his leg, adding a fourth ball with ease as the act went along. The audience was impressed by his skill. He was a clumsy hare and people often forgot that he was a master juggler.

"He sure knows how to handle his balls," the Cat said aloud, causing Dee to laugh out boisterously.

He continued to juggle, tossing the balls to audience members and instructing them to toss them back to him when he gave them the signal. Dum might have thrown the ball a little too hard, because Hare had to stumble back in order to get it, almost causing him to trip over his own feet. But he caught himself, adding to the suspense of the trick, a smattering of applause coming from the audience. After a little more of this, getting 5 balls in the air, he caught them all in a box and gave a short bow, mentally preparing himself for the final trick. Everything had gone well up until this point, he was feeling comfortable on stage, his nerves had gone to the back of his mind. It was now or never.

"My final trick for the evening will shock and amaze you!" Hare said, tossing the box of balls backstage and into a crate with the rest of his magic items. "Hatter, bring in… the box!"

The curtains parted behind Hare and Hatter appeared, dragging a large trunk behind himself. Hare moved around to help at the other end, positioning it in the center of the stage. Hatter gave Hare a reassuring pat on the back, before stepping aside.

"What you see before you is a plain, ordinary box!" Hare said, gesturing a hand toward the trunk in a flamboyant fashion. "This trick requires a volunteer. Alice, if you will, please come look at the box to make sure that it is, in fact, ordinary."

She looked at him and nodded, going to the trunk and investigating it. She opened it with the help of the Hatter and looked inside, tapping on the sides and the lid.

"Looks like a plain box to me." She announced.

"Wonderful, wonderful," Hare said, fluttering his fingers mysteriously for effect. "One more, thing. Did you happen to find something -in- the box?"

Alice took a peek in and pulled out a large velvet bag.

Hare's mother applauded joyously, causing Dum to lean over and say to her "I don't think that was the trick…" causing her to stop.

Hare forced a smile and took the bag from Alice, showing it to the crowd. "Now, Alice, inspect the bag for any holes or imperfections, if you please."

Alice came over and glanced over the bag, turning it this way and that and checking the inside before agreeing that the bag hadn't been tampered with.

"Thank you, Alice," Hare said aloud, taking the bag from her and placing it in the bottom of the box. "Now, Alice, stand in the bag!"

She looked at him, shoulders dropped, her jaw slack. "What?"

Hare's eyes widened and he smiled at the audience, hearing them laugh nervously, before turning to Alice. "Get in the box."

She blinked and shook her head a little, before the Hare put a hand out and guided her into the box, positioning her so she was standing in the bag.

"Now, Alice, I'm going to close you in the bag and lay you down in the box. Do not be frightened! You will come out of this, completely unharmed!" He accentuated the last bit by looking at the audience, gesturing an outstretched hand at them as if he were reeling them in, causing them to Ooh and Aah. Dee might have muttered something along the lines of "I hope Alice has health insurance" before being jammed in the ribs by his brother.

Hare helped Alice pull the bag up around her, seeing her give him a wink to signal him that she was okay, before tying the bag shut above her head. Then, with the Hatter's help, they helped her get in a lying position in the box before closing the lid.

"Now, Hatter, the lock please!"

The audience was on the edge of their seats as Hare put a comedicaly large lock on the front of the lid, jangling it around to show that it was, in fact, sealed.

Hatter came from the left side of the stage with a portable curtain on a rod. He switched it around, making it flutter in the wind, before handing one end to the hare. They walked around the box, before Hare stepped atop it.

"Now, don't look away!" he shouted, wiggling his fingers at the audience a little before lifting the curtain in front of him. Hatter stepped aside as the curtain shook and shimmered in the light, obscuring the view of the trunk from the audience. It continued to shake from side to side for a few moments, before falling to the ground, revealing…

Alice standing atop the box, arms outstretched and wearing Hare's cape.

The entire audience gasped as she was revealed, not missing a beat before they erupted into applause. Everyone jumped to their feet and roared, even the Queen had gotten swept up in the moment. They were all so impressed that they forgot to ask where the Hare went.

With Hatter's help, Alice hopped off of the box and took a bow, before taking a step aside and gesturing toward the trunk.

And nothing happened.

Alice had a strained smile on her face and Hatter was starting to look nervous. She gestured back to the box and still, nothing happened.

"Uh… mr Hare?" Alice asked, going to the box and tugging on the large lock, finding that it was still stuck shut. "Uh oh…"

There was a thumping and banging from inside the trunk as the noise died down and people started to get the feeling something had gone wrong. The box shook a little and scooted around as Hatter bowed down next to it.

"Hare? Are you in there?"

"I can't get out!" Hare shouted from inside. "I can't get the thing open."

"Oh dear…" Alice gasped, hand going to her mouth as she bent down beside the Hatter.

Hatter hit against the back of the trunk, finding that the secret door was stuck. He reached for the lock with his giant hands and gave it a yank, straining to pull it off. After struggling for a few moments, the crowd had gathered at the foot of the stage to get a better look at what was going on.

"Where is the key?" Rabbit asked, pointing at the lock. It was the most obvious solution, why hadn't they thought of it already?

Hatter patted his sides down, but he didn't have it, so he bent down and shouted at the box. "Where's the key, Hare?" he asked, holding his ear against the lid of the trunk to listen for an answer.

"It's in my pocket…" came the response.

June looked like she was about ready to either faint or pull the lid off the trunk with her bare hands. To say she was getting frantic was an understatement. "Did he just say they're in his pocket?"

Hatter laughed and shook his head. "No, he couldn't have!"

"He did, Mr Hatter…" Alice said, biting her lip.

"Oh… well, this is quite a pickle here, isn't it?" Hatter said, scrunching up his face and putting a hand to his hip. "Well, only one thing to do." He got to his feet, everyone having their eyes trained on him as he walked in through the IN door and immediately through the OUT door, holding an ax in his gloved hands. The group parted as he stood at the front of the box, lifting the ax above his head and was about to swing down, when…

"I don't think so!" June exclaimed, putting her arm out.

"But, June! How else are we going to get him out of there?" Hatter asked, still holding the axe above his head.

"A mother has her ways…" she said, raising her hands to her head and pulling two hairpins from her updo. Kneeling down at the lock, she straightened the pins and shoved them into the lock, moving them around with expert fingers. They sat for a few minutes, Hare tapping on the lid of the box every minute or so to let him know he hadn't passed out. Eventually he started making casual conversation with those outside the box, asking what the outside world was like and if the price of gasoline had dropped because it was much too high. He also asked if it would be appropriate for him to sing a song when he got out of the box (they told him no) so he started singing a song about being stuck inside it instead.

A few minutes and broken hairpins later, the lock clicked open and fell to the floor.

"She got it!" Dum exclaimed, jumping to his feet in excitement.

"I'll be damned…" Dee added under his breath as June wrenched the lid open.

She found her son scrunched up inside the box, trap door knocked off its hinges on one side, tied up in the sack.

"He did it!" Hatter rejoiced, giving Alice a hug. "He finally got inside the bag this time."

Desperately, Hare clawed at the mouth of the bag, pulling it down over his sheepish face. The view from inside the box was one he didn't think he'd ever forget. All his friends were looking down at him, expressions varied from surprise to anger to trying to hide laughter.

"Ta-da!" he shouted, with a little bit of a nervous laugh. He wanted to climb back into the box and die right at that very moment. Instead, he allowed Hatter and the Tweedles to help him get out of the box and to his feet, dusting himself off as Alice gave him back the red cape. June fussed over him, giving him a once over to make sure he was alright. If you had looked at her while she was picking the lock, you'd have thought she was keeping very calm, but on the inside she was frantic with worry. Now that her son was sitting on the lid of the box, sipping a calming cup of tea, she was starting to relax.

"Where did you learn to do that, mrs Hare?" Alice asked, very impressed with how well she dealt with the situation. And her skill with a pair of hairpins was very intriguing.

"I'm sorry, dear," June said with a friendly smile, once she realized Alice was talking to her. She was watching Hare from a distance now, just making sure he was okay. "What did you say?"

"I was curious about how you knew to pick the lock, mrs Hare," Alice said, taking a seat beside the elder bunny.

June couldn't keep the shy smile from her face. Her cheeks turned a little pink as she bent toward Alice.

"Let me tell you," June whispered to her, patting the child on the knee. "When you have a son who would accidentally lock himself in rooms as often as Hare did, you had to get good at picking locks," adding a playful wink at the end, she held a finger to her lips to tell Alice it was a secret. The girl nodded and returned with a wink of her own.

#gwcft #guess who's coming for tea #adventures in wonderland #aiw #hatter and hare #fanfic

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