#imm trying to draw faster

[banquete-passageiro]

[max-attaxx]

trying a new style with him again . i draw traditional much faster and get inspired much easier so i guess imm just do a mix(?) to help

[julemmaes]

Lucie, my love

“I thought I’d lost you.”

Matthew Fairchild and Lucie Herondale angst/whump one shot

This turned out way fucking longer than I expected, but I cried while writing (both from exasperation that from despair because of what happens in this os) so I hope I’m gonna make everyone suffer like I did, expecially @clara-sm. This is for you. Sorry if this took so long, but I had some connection problems.

(If you want something specific don’t hold back and dm me everything and whenever I have time I’ll gladly write that for you. If you want to be added to my very-short-nearly-non-existent taglist let me know in the comments and I’ll add you)

Word count: 4,735

Lucie was in the Herondale Lounge at the London Institute that night. She was laughing carefree with Cordelia. Initially the idea had been to sit at the table to write something, and she had succeeded in her mission, for twenty minutes, but then Math and her brother had entered, followed by her parabatai, and focusing on anything other than the caresses of her future husband on her arm had become impossible. They talked about the upcoming wedding for a couple of hours before the boys went out to the Devil Tavern with Christopher and Thomas, leaving them alone to talk about what they would call “girl stuff”.

“So.” Cordelia said looking at her with a lively glance over the edge of the cup.

“So… what?” Lucie asked, sipping her own tea.

“Oh, I know I’ve already asked you a billion times, but I really need to know, or I’m gonna go crazy. What did Matthew get for Jamie?” she asked with a shrill voice, tormenting her hands, “I’ve bought at least twelve books in Persian, but I’m sure he will not like half of them.” said Cordelia desperately, bringing her right hand to hold the daisy-shaped pendant James gave her right after their wedding. Lucie had almost cried when she saw it.

She sat still, fixing the foldes of her dress, “I can’t tell you,” she said taking another sip of tea, “because he didn’t tell me either. I know dad has something to do with the whole plan, but he’s been avoiding me for a week.” bewildered she shook her head, “He seemed so happy to have to leave today and not have to lie to my face every day. Unbelievable.”

Cordelia sunk even deeper into the chair, puffing, when the living room door slammed against the wall, causing her to snap. She brought her hand to Cortana so quickly that Lucie didn’t even notice when she pulled it out, she only saw a golden glow, but then she felt it. She felt as Cordelia’s mood changed, while dropping the sword to the ground. She looked at the door ready to fight whatever thing had gotten into the Institute and her stomach fell under her feet when she saw James holding himself with a bloody hand to the door and his face almost unrecognizable. He was wheezing, like he had been running, but it was visible how much even that slight movement of his chest was hurting him. Normally pink skin was pale as ivory under that dry layer of blood, and golden eyes now shone, bright with tears.

She felt, rather than saw, Cordelia moving between the chairs and reaching for Jamie. She was gonna ask him what the hell had happened, where the others were, but he beat her to it, “Matthew…”

Lucie held her breath as the doors opened wide and Thomas and Christopher entered, a body hanging between the two of them, and that blonde hair, which she could recognize in the midst of a thousand heads, was dark, covered with blood. By the Angel, there was so much blood, so much… She squeezed the cup so hard that her knuckles turned white, and she didn’t recognize her voice when she asked, “What happened?” she still couldn’t get up. She was motionless in that wooden chair that had never seemed so fragile, as if at any moment it would break under her weight. Christopher looked at her with a pleading look and she saw with horror the cut across his right cheek. An image of another night, two years away from that moment, formed in her head, but she immediately put it away.

“Move everything, we have to put him on the table.” said Thomas grunting, but Lucie didn’t move. She couldn’t bring herself to. “Dammit Lucie, move that teapot!” there was an edge in Thomas’ voice, Lucie had never heard it before. Cordelia called her and she moved her head to the side, looking at her, but not really seeing her. James held an arm on Cordelia's shoulders and they were moving towards the couch, his wife the only support of his brother in that moment. Just as she had been Jesse’s only support the night those Kuri demons had hurt him so badly that she had struggled to recognize him when they’d found him.

“Luce I need you to do me a favor and move all the things on the table so Tom and Kit can lay Matthew down. Please.” Cordelia’s voice betrayed her, breaking on the last word, but that was enough to startle Lucie. She remained silent while with a single movement she threw everything on the floor. If something broke, she didn’t care. She heard Thomas swearing and then her heart tightened in a press so tight that she thought she was dying, because Matthew had just woken up. And he was screaming. Christopher pushed him on the table and Lucie walked away with her hands on her mouth to stop a sob, as her sight blurred.

“Shit! James!” Thomas turned to her brother as his body bent over Matthew’s to keep him down. Matthew, who was shouting so loudly with his mouth wide open that it was difficult to be heard over the noise and that with his hands closed, was trying so hard not to faint. Lucie wouldn’t have been surprised if he had half-moon marks on his palms the next day. “James, you have to come over here and make him an iratze! Mine aren’t working!” Thomas was trying to stay calm, but holding Matthew down was getting too complicated.

“I-” James looked at him and the desperation imprinted in his features almost made Lucie scream, “I’ve already tried. I couldn’t… mine didn’t work either.” He was crying when he finished talking. Cordelia’s hand holding the stelee on James’ skin stopped for a second, long enough to glance at the table, before resuming her task faster.

Christopher went running out of the room, saying he was going to call someone, anyone. Thomas turned to Math when he stopped screaming, started whimpering. Lucie approached slowly when he began to whisper and move his head frantically. His legs kept kicking, but his body was relaxing enough to make Thomas move away so she could see the situation better. The agonizing expression, so similar to that Jesse had had in the last minutes of his life…

“Jamie. Jamie, where are you?” Matthew was saying, “James.” he sobbed, opening his eyes and reaching out to his parabatai. James tried to stand up driven by the voice of the other, and when the wound on his waist prevented him, he sat down again and closed his eyes, “I’m here, Matthew, talk to me. I’m here.”

Lucie, taking a deep breath, stood beside him, holding a hand to his cheek. When he turned to her, leaning completely on her touch, he said, “Luce, my love,” they sobbed together. She knelt beside the table and took one of his hand with the other, holding as tight as she could, trying to draw his attention to that contact and not to the pain he was feeling.

Matthew grimaced, closing his eyes when Thomas ripped his shirt off, but Lucie kept her eyes fixed on his face. If she looked at her future husband’s chest, she would lose all hope, she knew, she had to stay focused on his features, his eyes. She was going to ask what happened, but Tom put a piece of rolled up cloth in front of his mouth, “Sorry, Math, but you have to bite this.” Matthew looked at him, appalled, shaking his head slightly, “You have a bone that is not where it should be, and I have to put it back in before I can do anything else.” He said, “Bite it, please.” Thomas’s eyes filled with tears and at that point Lucie could not resist any more, she burst into tears taking the piece of cloth from her friend’s hand, caressing one last time her boyfriend’s cheek. “Open your mouth, love, for me. It will all be over before you know it, I promise.” she smiled despite the tears.

“Promise me?” he asked, frightened, inhaling abruptly.

“I promise you, now bite it.” she said, making him open his mouth. “Take my hand. Stay here, stay with me.” she looked at Thomas from above her shoulder and felt Matthew stiffen as Tom touched his knee. He nodded his head, and she gripped Matthew’s hand tighter, holding back the tears when both Matthew and James shouted and Thomas put Matthew’s bone back into its place, straightening his shin with the torn shirt.

Math was crying again, clenching his teeth as hard as he could. He turned his head to his side, toward his parabatai, and tears fell on his nose and temple as he looked at James and took one last breath before he passed out.

“Math? Math, Matthew.” she said, shaking his shoulders. She glanced at Thomas, looking for help, but his friend was looking at Matthew as one looked at a lost cause, and took a step back. No, no. she wouldn’t have allowed it. “Love you have to wake up. You have to keep your eyes open.” she whispered to his ear. A sound of frustration escaped her control and she finally allowed herself to look at the chest of the boy lying on the table, when he gave no sign of hearing her. No, she sobbed and her sight blurred once more, not again. Three cuts… No, three claws, those wounds could only have been made by claws. Three claws so deep that Lucie could see the bones in all that shredded flesh. She choked another sob, wondering how he still had vital organs inside his torso. Another wave of panic poured over her and closing the gap between her and James in a few strides, she took the stelee from his hand and quickly returned to Matthew, starting to draw as much iratze as she could, wherever she could find a spot that wasn’t reduced to minced meat.

“Lucie,” James tried to call her.

She burst into a desperate cry and could no longer stop, while every rune she drew disappeared immediately afterwards. She tried to stop the blood from pouring out with her own hands, resting them on his wounds, and when Matthew gave no sign of feeling that either, she screamed. She screamed until Thomas put his hands on her shoulders, taking her away from Matthew’s body. She tried to free herself from his grip, but he held her tightly, and kept pushing her further and further away. Further and further.

Only when Cordelia touched her elbow did she realize that Christopher had returned and with him was Ragnor Fell. The warlock took in the surroundings wide-eyed and bleached, and signaled everyone to go out, but Lucie was still crying and would never have been able to leave Matthew alone.

“Luce please, he can’t focus if you stay here and,” Christopher’s voice interrupted her thoughts and she finally managed to detach her gaze from Matthew’s chest, which was moving more and more slowly, “you need to calm down. Stressing yourself so much won’t help you. You have to stay stable in case you need to bring him something. You could make yourself useful.” Kit put his hand on her back, pushed her out, and Lucie knew what he was doing, he had done it two years before, when she had lost Jesse. Jesse. Raziel, she would’ve lost Matthew, too.

“I can’t get out.” her voice stuck in her throat and Thomas joined her on the other side, “You have to come out. Come with us, you’ll make an iratze on my arm, and as soon as he’s done, you can see him. Now come.”

“No you don’t understand. It’s already happened, I can’t go out. If I go out he’ll die and it’ll be like with Jesse, again. I, I can’t… He can’t.” she took a trembling breath and saw Thomas and Christopher exchanging a look of understanding. They tried to move her, but Lucie couldn’t.

“Lucie?” At the sound of her brother’s voice she looked up and when he smiled at her, she sighed. If James smiled, it meant that there was no danger of death. However, she looked over her shoulder towards Matthew and it was not possible that he would make it. “Lucie.” James called back, “Come with me. Let Ragnor work.” He took her hand encrusted with blood, Matthew’s blood, and carried her out with the help of his friends.

Once in the hallway she leaned against the wall and with his brother, she let herself fall to the floor. She looked at her dress and squeezed the heavy red cloth between her fingers. James’ hand landed on her knee and she looked up at him, seeing how his wounds were closing. Why were iratze working on him? What had hurt Matthew so badly?

She turned to the others and was surprised to see Cordelia, laying the stelee on Christopher’s neck. Thomas was resting his head on Alastair’s shoulder, who in the meantime was drawing healing runes on his left arm, next to the real tattoo. He must have arrived with Christopher. Not that she really cared in that moment.

“What happened?” her voice came out much harder than she intended.

“We were going to the tavern and we met Alas on the way there. We… I greeted him and a pack of werewolves passing by saw us. They’ve started making unpleasant comments.”

Answered Thomas promptly, his face hardening while staring at Alastair the whole time he was talking. Now that she was paying attention, Lucie had never seen her parabatai’s brother so pale in his life. He had not yet said a word, and it was rare that he did not comment on everything as he did since he joined their group.

“Matthew did not take it well and we had already had a drink on the way. A fight broke out.” James ended up for him. Lucie sighed, typical of Matthew.

“Why is he the only one who’s not healing?” she asked. A moment later, Cordelia was at her side and, like Lucie, she had a confused frown on her face. She stooped to check James’ wounds, but he moved her gently, trying to look Lucie in the face.

“The leader of the pack has targeted him and must have had something on his claws, because they glowed. Christopher noticed, but it was too late.” said James.

Lucie was on her cousin in an instant, “What was that? Tell me, Christopher, or I swear on the Angel I’ll rip your arms off and-”, he put his hands on her shoulders looking at her a little scared. “I’ve already told Mr Fell everything. He knew what I was talking about, but he needs silence to focus and be sure to get all the poison out of Matthew’s body. You just have to be patient.” Lucie lifted her chin, making a small nod of assent, and sat down next to her brother again.

She was still worried and the second she saw Matthew she would burst into tears, but at least someone was healing him. She closed her eyes counting the breaths she took, as Uncle Jem had taught her to do every time she got upset. One, two, three, four… she did not reach the fifth, that a ghostly presence attracted her attention. She opened one eye and almost jumped up when she saw Jesse’s ghost across the hall. She excused herself before heading to the common room next to the entrance. She didn’t dare opening her mouth until they were totally alone and out of reach of prying ears. Her friends knew about her power, but she didn’t want them to know that Jesse was there.

He was looking at her from the window, where he sat down, as usual, and smiled down at her.

“Hey.” He murmured to her like a prayer.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” she asked, smiling shyly, feeling all the fatigue of that evening overwhelming her in an instant. She leaned on the door.

“You called me a couple of times. It’s not as if I could decide whether or not to come.” He replied, “Is that your blood?” Lucie noticed a note of concern in his tone, but she didn’t give it much thought.

She shrugged, “It’s Matthew’s.” He nodded, reducing his lips to a thin line, as if that explained everything. What had happened and when. Why.

“Are you all right?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that.” A trembling breath came out of her as her eyes circled with silver. Jesse made to move, but he froze, as if he remembered that he couldn’t touch her anymore, and he sat straight back down.

“He will recover, you’ll see.” he tried to reassure her. She looked at him, making a nervous laugh slip away.

“You said that to me the night you died. Oh, but I’ll be fine, you’ll see.” She said imitating what sounded more like the voice of a Silent Brother than an 18-year-old. He burst into laughter, and to Lucie it seemed a little forced, but she didn’t care about that either. He was just trying to cheer her up.

“I don’t have that voice. And he’s really going to recover, I can’t see him. Or feel him, for what it is.” he said running a hand through his hair. To Lucie that gesture looked so normal, so alive, that it seemed to her that the world was shaking for a second. And then, “I miss you.” Jesse held his breath, “I miss you every day. And every time he goes out and comes back with a black eye or… or his belly completely open,” she said gesturing to the salon where someone was taking care of Matthew, she sighed, “I can’t help but think that one day he won’t come back. And I’ll have to relive it again. And I can’t do it, J. I can’t.” she said, starting to sob. The other remained silent starring at her and, as if he had never been there, he disappeared. Lucie bent in two when the pain in her chest seemed unbearable, closing her mouth so as not to be heard, when someone knocked on the door and it opened slightly. Cordelia told her that they had moved Matthew to their rooms and that if she wanted, she could go to his bedside. Lucie quickly wiped her tears away with a final sigh of relief. If they had moved him, it meant that the wounds had been cleaned at least. And maybe now they could have put come iratze.

Thomas had already warned all the adults with various fire messages and in a few minutes they would all be here, asking them all kind questions, so she might as well have gone next to him and enjoyed those last moments of peace before the storm.

***

Matthew had never felt worse in his life. He had spent the last three days in a state of half-sleep that had stunned him. He vaguely remembered Lucie’s hands on his chest as she changed his bandages and the cold tip of James’ stelee when he was able to stand to draw some iratze. He remembered the voice of his brother Charles, who offended him for not being responsible enough, and his mother’s gentle touch on his forehead when she told him she loved him.

In all of this, Matthew could only agree with his brother. He had been a fool and a reckless. What exactly did he want to do? Fighting against an entire pack of werewolves, breaking the Law? Raziel, the Accords. His mother would have killed him.

The thought made his head spin and he grunted when the light blinded him. He felt someone move beside him and someone else taking his hand, on the other side of the bed.

“Math? Are you awake?” Jamie asked, whispering, as if he were afraid to scare him.

“No, but I was dreaming of you and I had to share my sorrow.” He joked, bringing his free hand to his face, to protect himself from the sun. He heard Lucie laughing and his heart stopped, and then started beating faster again. Only for her.

“Idiot. You really are an idiot. Next time you do something like this, I’m not gonna let anyone cut your chest open. I’m gonna do it myself.” When he finally saw his parabatai, he had a band around his arm that held it close to his chest, but he was smiling widely, despite the dark circles under his eyes. He turned his head to the other side and nearly cried at the sight of his future wife.

Lucie was staring at him with a shy smile on her lips, as if nothing had happened, and as if she had not stayed by his bed for those long and endless days. But darker circles than her brother’s told Matthew enough about how she must have spent all that time. He gripped her hand before looking at James again, making him understand that he wanted to be alone with his fiancée, and he, after having left a kiss on his head, that Matthew noticed only in that moment was bandaged, went out.

Matthew saw her, staring at her finger where their engagement ring shone and biting her lip thoughtful. He had never noticed it before, how often she did it. It was a nervous tic that she had acquired after Jesse’s death, of that he was sure, but lately it had become a daily occurrence, and Matthew knew that it was partly his fault.

“I thought I’d lost you.“ she said suddenly, staring at the ring. Matthew wasn’t sure how to breathe anymore. He went to talk, but she stopped him, “I thought I’d lost you. And that I would never touch your hand again.” she repeated. She looked up at him and he saw that her eyes were filled with tears. “I would have lost you, but I would have kept seeing you, because I would have called you every single moment and you would have appeared and this time I wouldn’t have moved on.”

He reached out a hand, brushing her cheekbone with a thumb, removing what was left of her crying, “Luce,”

“No, Math, no Luce here, Luce there.” She said in a sharper tone than she intended, “I spent almost four days watching you turn in your sleep and repeat my name and that of Jamie and your mother.” She grasped Matthew’s hand before she took it back and put them both in her lap. “You’re gonna have to change your way of having fun, or the next time you do something like this, I’m gonna leave.”

Matthew snapped to a sitting position, and the dizziness almost made him fell to the side, but her quick hand grabbed him by the shoulder. He looked at her wide-eyed, gasping, looking for the right words to say to her to make her understand that without her, he would not keep living.

“I tried to make you understand that this kind of life is not good. Not for me, not for Jamie, not even for you. And you go on and on exaggerating every damn time.” Her voice broke, “I’m done with this bullshit.” he flinched at the use of that word. Not that she wasn’t right, but he never thought he would hear Lucie say it with such spite. “I’m letting you decide Math, it’s me or the alcohol. I’m giving you one last chance.” she got up from the chair taking the Fairchild ring off her finger and giving it to him. All without looking at his face. A traitorous tear slipped on her cheek, but she was quick to remove any trace of it. Matthew first looked at the ring and then at her, and then again at the ring. He gently lowered her hand, “No.” he said.

“No?” she asked, wrinkling her forehead.

“No. I love you Lucie and, and this thing, this disease I have…” he was struggling, looking for the right words to say, “You know.” He looked for her eyes and when she finally looked back at him, Matthew started talking again. “You know what happened. You know about the baby. I can’t stop, there’s no solution to that kind of mistake, and if I can’t fix it, then I have to forget. Because if I don’t forget, Luce,” he interrupted and caught his breath, “If I don’t forget, I’ll go crazy. And I don’t want to go crazy. I don’t want to go crazy.” he was starting to repeat himself, and Lucie knew that when he started to repeat himself, it wasn’t a good sign. It meant he was spiraling down his thoughts.

Closing her eyes and gathering her last strength she picked up the skirt of her dress in her arms and made a sign to scoot over to her boyfriend.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting into bed with you, what does it look like? Now move.”

Matthew did, and she sat beside him, circling his shoulders with one arm and carrying his head on her lap. Now he was curled up on her side, and she was passing her hands through his hair, being careful not to bump the bandage, “I’m sorry, Math.” she whispered to him.

“No Lucie don’t, I should be the one apologizing. I should apologize for the way I am, for the way I’m acting. For being the worst friend and fiancé a person could have.” he murmured, “I’m terrible.”

“You’re not terrible. And I love you, Matthew.” She said, taking his chin and making him turn towards her, “I love you because you are the most extraordinary person I know, and I would not have anyone else beside me. I’m not telling you that I want to leave because you’re a bad person, I’m saying that if you decide to deal with this problem, I will deal with it by your side and I will never leave you alone. I’m saying I can’t be the one to make this decision, because it has to start from you.” Matthew sat down in front of her, his lower lip trembling, and when she touched his cheek, he melted on that touch, like every time she grazed him. “I’m telling you I’m here, if you want me, but if you don’t see that there’s something that needs fixing, then I can’t be a part of your life. Do you understand that?” He nodded, always with his face on her hand. He took hers in his and kissed it before looking at her and reaching out to her face. They were about to kiss each other when a sharp pain in his chest caused Matthew to bend over. He groaned for the pain and brought one hand to his side, while the other went to his head, which had just slammed against Lucie’s. She, in turn, started giggling and massaging her forehead, “Yeah, you’re really terrible.” she teased him. When Math didn’t answer, she started to worry. He started breathing irregularly and his shoulders were shaking, but she didn’t think he was hurting that bad. The wounds were almost healed.

“Math?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I think it’s the heart, you know. The fact that you’re not wearing the ring bothers it.” He finally said, raising his eyes lit with fun on her face. She made an exasperated noise, pushing him to the side, before grabbing the ring left on the chair and putting it back on her finger. Matthew took her hand smiling and like a few seconds before, kissed the finger with the family ring on it.

He leaned on his back and brought her to his lap, “I’m so lucky to have you.” He kissed her cheek and she blushed to the tip of her feet. There were few who made her blush with the demonstrations of affection and unfortunately for her, but fortunately for the playful side of her future husband, he was among them.

“And I’m lucky to be loved by someone like you.”

She took his face in her hand and finally, after days of waiting, she was able to kiss him.

[themagicalreads]

Journey Home (Mature/Prompt)

Rapunzel was hot despite the biting cold wind of the sea rushing outside, and it was all the captain's doing. Jack sucked at the nape of her neck as he moved against her, drawing a long moan from her lips. She ran her fingers up his back, pulling him as close to her body as she could, before moving on to his hair.

"Mmm," his mumbling was deep, husky. She tugged at his white locks to bring more out of him, and he obliged wonderfully.

"Oh, captain," she whined in pure bliss.

He pulled away from her, suddenly, eyes sinking deep inside her soul.

"Jack," she corrected herself with a small smile. He rewarded her with a smirk and his tongue slipping in smoothly beside her own. Her entire body buzzed with energy, with light and tingles and love. Pure love, and shared ecstasy.

Rapunzel tightened her bare legs around Jack's hips as they continued their rocking. Then, she gripped his pale shoulders and flipped him onto his back so she now sat atop him, in control. His chest shivered as she ran her hands across it, feeling drunk by his very presence.

This was the most ruthlessly handsome man she'd ever laid eyes upon. The youngest captain to sail the Seven Seas on a fully crewed ship. And yet he had the biggest heart she'd ever had the pleasure of knowing. One he liked to trap inside of a birdcage called his ship. The Zella. A nameless ship named after her, of every human in existence.

The way he looked at her now with heavy-lidded eyes made her question how it had taken her so long to let him in, even after he'd saved her from a life no one wished to have. It had taken him a while to break apart his cold-hearted persona to her as well, but he'd shown her vulnerability long before she could even muster to reveal hers.

He gripped her hips gently, running his hands over her thighs and back again. To places that made her insides flip completely in the most wonderful of ways.

When they were finished, Jacks head dropped against the pillow as he tried to catch his breath. After a few seconds of relishing in his sweet scent, Rapunzel sat up on his hips and brought his suddenly-distanced mind back on board with a soft finger to his chin.

"Your heads off somewhere in the moon again," she said as his ice blue eyes, warm as the sun, met her own. They were full of sadness, and love, and pain.

"Is it?"

Rapunzel nodded.

"You're beautiful."

Tingles rushed over her spine, but she ignored them, to her body's dismay. She plucked his crumpled, white, linen shirt off the bedsheets beside them and pulled it over her chest. It was much more flowy on her than it ever was on him, which was one of the reasons why she loved wearing it to bed so much. Immediately, she felt fingers playing at its hem, tugging up and down. "And you're ignoring my questions again," she told him.

Jack sighed, pulling his wandering hands away from her to palm at his eyes. "Because it's a decision I've already made. We're going for the Black Treasure."

Rapunzel shook her head in disbelief. "Everyone's gone for the Black Treasure, you and I both know it's a death trap." She lowered her palms to his stomach. "No one's caught word of the Golden Flower yet, save from us, the Sea De Vil, and the Jolly Roger. And we're the ones closest to the island, as far as word carries. It'd be stupid not to go."

Jack shifted, gently pushing at her hips until she swung off of him. While he pulled his breeches on, Rapunzel sat patiently on her legs until he grumbled: "I'm not going back to Corona. I made that clear with you before you joined the crew."

"And I haven't said a word about it in six years. It would've been longer if Nicholas hadn't told us about the sighting."

Jack shook his head again, then glanced over his shoulder at her. "It's a magic golden flower. There's no such thing."

Rapunzel smiled softly, crawling over to sit just behind his shoulder. She slid her chin down over it, wrapping her arms around his own in an embrace that set her soul of fire. "I don't believe in magic," she mocked, in a horrible imitation of his voice. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say, Ice Man."

"I was cursed. There's a difference."

"You've never viewed your magic as a curse before. And even if it was technically a curse, the fact that it exists is proof that this flowers' powers can very much be real, too. We can't miss the chance of someone else finding it. Imagine the gold people would pay for it—more than all the treasures we've kept and sold combined. We can treasure it, too. Keep it to ourselves."

Jack was quiet for a long moment. She knew he'd grown up on the island, same as she, but he'd never confessed why he refused so strongly to go back, and she'd never felt the right to push. She hadn't told him everything about her long years in Gothelitch either. He had a right to his own privacy as everyone else did with things that didn't involve her.

He opened his mouth to speak, finally, when a loud bang! suddenly sounded from the door. "When you two lovebirds are done rubbin' up all over each other," Merida, the Zella's master gunner, yelled from the other side, "we got somethin' out here ya might wanna see."

"Aye!" Jack answered. The both of them hurried into their own garments and out of the captain's quarters. Out on the main deck, most of the crew stood gazing at something far off to sea.

"Ya see 'im watching us too?" Hook Hand's eyes glared under the hand pressed over his brows, shielding the sun.

"I can feel 'im," Big Nose added.

"Aye, captain! First lady," Merida sauntered over, nodding to the both of them. "Sailin' master's caught somethin' on the horizon. Gettin' easier to see by the second. Aye, Haddie," she yelled out to the sky, suddenly, where Hiccup Haddock stood on the main mast. "How's it lookin' up there?"

"Definitely him!" Hiccup yelled back. "I recommend we set sail East soon, unless we want a repetition of the blood moon!"

Rapunzel glanced at Jack, whose face was still as a frozen lake. The battle on the blood moon had been a nightmare, worse than any they'd been in. The Zella usually did its best to avoid physical conflict between other ships and coastal villages—it was how other pirates got their ships sunk to the ocean's bottom so quickly in their early days of sailing, or how they lost their treasure faster than they earned it, what with all the repairs it cost 'em. The Zella was more so of a silent threat, he'd say. We were a legend, never seen, yet wielding a deadly strike.

Their run-in with the Sea De Vil hadn't been planned. Jack was usually good at tricking others and tracking their thoughts long before they even made them, but he'd made a slight miss guess on Captain Crell's plans. He hadn't expected the renovations he'd given his ship months back for faster sailing. Guess someone else caught on to Jack's tricks—when you scream your plans out for the world to hear, surprise is an impossible thing to achieve. But if you put them to motion under the cover of sealed lips and well placed coins, diverting expectations most often turns victorious.

Now, that very ship was sailing straight for them, only but a small blip on the horizon. It would take a day for them for meet up if they continued on their current route.

"He's sailing for Corona," Rapunzel told him. "Heading South. We're a bonus treasure on his path."

"We're sinking him next time we meet." Jack's voice was stiff, and incredibly determined. There was no doubt in her that his words were true—the Zella's was easily the toughest ship on the Seas. "The Jolly Roger, too."

"You really think words not going to make it to the others if we take those two down? It's a useless endeavor. They'll just cost us more gold in repair, and for what? Temporarily stopping pirates from sailing for the Golden Flower?"

Jack's lips were pressed in a neat line. She knew she was getting onto his nerves about the topic, but she was itching to head home, despite what she told him. The one thing that had kept her from dangerous thoughts after she'd been forced into white slavery was the thought of seeing her parents again. She hoped her disappearance hadn't affected their protectiveness of her sister to a point of extreme. Slavery was a common thing, but her family had cared about one another far too much to let it become an unspoken topic, she knew.

"Please," Rapunzel whispered. She knew she was being cruel, torturing him this way, but she needed to see them at least one last time. She needed to know they were okay, and that she was too.

Jack refused to look at her. The pain he was trying so hard to hide in his eyes tore her heart to pieces. What was she doing to him? She knew she was right in her talk about the flower's worth, but Corona had always been the one thing he'd refused to hear talk about.

He scowled, finally, starring deep into the horizon. "Turn the sails south," he ordered.

***

They arrived at sunrise three days later. The Coronian seas were calm as they anchored down around a mountainous bend, covering them from prying eyes.

"Everyone, ready yourselves for a quick leave," Jack announced as he marched down the main deck. "I won't be long."

The crew groaned in disagreement.

"Ya mean none of us are comin' with, save for Zel?" Merida complained. "No offence, Cap, but that's idiocy at its best."

Jack shot her a dangerous look.

"You'll need Haddie for his navigation skills. And you'll need me, for added protection, yeah? Ain't that what we usually do?"

"This isn't a usual case," Jack informed her. But Merida had never been one to give up. It was a wonder Jack bothered keeping any of this crew around, considering how much they talked back at him. Rapunzel suspected he liked it, deep down. It made their days on the ship that much more entertaining and pleasant, considering the business they were in.

"We do make a good team," Hiccup had just climbed down from his mast, ready for departure. "Zella's four heads of ship."

"Fine." Jack gave in. "Shorty! Lower two boats. We leave immediately." And immediately they did. Rapunzel found herself sitting in front of an emotionless Jack in a matter of no time. His gaze was glassy, fixed on nothing as he rowed their boat off to shore. His grip on the paddles was tight; it worried Rapunzel.

"Talk to me," she said, finally, over the sound of waves tugging them along. "What are you thinking, Jack? It's no good keeping things bottled up inside. You're not a treasure map, or a letter lost at sea."

That brought out a brief chuckle from Jack. "It's nothing."

Rapunzel frowned. "You're worse than a lady. It's not nothing."

"Doesn't matter anyway," he shrugged.

The boat scratched to a stop against the sand, but Rapunzel made no move to get out. Instead, she hopped onto Jack's lap, legs on either side of his hips, and gently pried his fingers away from each paddle. They moved to rest on her waist, only to lower back to his side. The subtle action hurt Rapunzel more than she cared to admit. She leaned forward, oh so slowly, and slipped her tongue between his lips, soothed when she felt his hands return to caress her.

"I love you," she told him.

Jack closed his eyes, gripping at her hips with each rock of the boat. "Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true."

She felt one of his hands reaching up to rub against her hair. "It'll hurt more when you leave."

Realization dawned on her suddenly—he thought she would leave the Zella as soon as they docked in Corona. His sudden failed attempts at distancing himself from her made much more sense now. From the past three days, he'd been trying to rip away his attachment to her. Rapunzel gripped Jack's neck, brushing her fingers against the hair at his nape. "I just want to visit them," she clarified. "I want us all to know we're okay—that I am, now. The Zella's my new home, captain."

Relief flooded over Jack's face, something he was brief to show. A smirk suddenly found its way back to his lips. "Bad girl."

Rapunzel smiled against his lips, warmth swelling inside of her. "Forgive me, sweet, sweet, Jack."

"Aye!" Merida yelled from somewhere off to their left. She and Hiccup had just arrived. "Got a magic flower to find, eh?"

Hiccup chimed in, "Nicholas mentioned it was somewhere by—"

"I know where it is," Rapunzel interrupted, joining up with the others. She looked at them almost guiltily. "I might have done some of my own research after Nick clued us in. If I read the riddles right, it's on top of a hill just out of town. Oh no!" Rapunzel patted at her dress. "I drew a map of how I remembered the island! I was so excited, I must've forgot it on the ship, but that's alright," she was quick to add, grinning at Jack. "We can grab one in town—it'll be much more accurate, and we can visit my family on the way!"

"Sounds like a plan, Zel," Merida agreed, happily.

"If they're as sweet as you, we should invite them on the crew," Hiccup added, only to earn an elbow to the gut from Merida.

They all laughed, save from Jack. "I'm not going," he told them.

"Oh, but they'd love you!" Rapunzel insisted. She was quick to give up her attempts at convincing, however. She knew could do it, he'd crack in a few minutes time, but the trick in gaining a silver tongue was to know when not to push. Jack never wanted to go back home in the first place. Something must have happened in town—something he didn't want to remember. He could meet her family another time, then. "We'll meet back here in half an hour," she told Jack once they'd reached the main bridge.

"Make it an hour," Jack said, but Rapunzel shook her head, keeping it at half. If she spent too much time with the family, she might forget how strongly she loved being at sea.

She might want to stay.

Rapunzel pressed a kiss onto Jack's cheek in goodbye. Then, she followed an ecstatic Merida and Hiccup down the bridge.

Corona was just as beautiful as she remembered, with his big, brick building, and sunny flag. She'd been caught after wandering too far on the outskirts when she was but a seven year old girl. She'd spent another seven in the grips of white slavery, where dirty men used her in ways no child or adult should ever be used. When Jack had stopped by Gothelitch in search for the islands solid gold tooth box, he'd had a run-in with the head of operation, Sir Black. Merida had been the one to spot her first, and she'd convinced Jack to unleash the crew of the Nameless to free our group of imprisoned girls. They'd succeeded, to her surprise, despite them only having been in the pirate business for barely over a year—he'd started when he was but fourteen, Rapunzel's age at the time.

If she hadn't been so curious, she never would have left Corona. She never would of met Jack, or Merida, or Hiccup, or even the rest of the crew. She was grateful for everything that had happened to her, in a way, but she still had nightmares of her time in Gothelitch. The town itself was lovely, but it had been tainted by her reason for being there.

Hiccup located a map easily. Finding Rapunzel's parents had been harder but, with a lot of asking around, they finally found themselves before an old brick home. Her parents looked the same as she pictured, but little Poppilia was almost her height. She was seventeen now, almost a grown woman, just like Rapunzel. It hurt her to know she'd missed out on watching her grow up, on creating memories only a big sister could give her. Still, her sadness gave way to relief at knowing they were still safe and okay.

"Where have you been?" Her mother asked after many hellos.

Rapunzel briefly explained what had happened to her, sparing them of the awful detail. Only she would bare that burden. "I've been sailing on the Zella since," she concluded. But instead of pure joy at her safety, her family looked fearsome.

"Doesn't Captain Jack own that ship?" Poppy asked, worry etched on her brow.

"Yes," Rapunzel smiled. "He's the most wonderful man."

Her father turned to her mother. "He was an Overland, wasn't he? Left at thirteen. I remember him."

"Oh, Punzel!" Her mother sighed, taking her shoulders. "Stay with us! Please, it's so good to have you back. We'll protect you from that man." Her green eyes flicked to Merida and Hiccup, standing a few paces behind Rapunzel. "Your friends too, they're absolutely free to stay."

Rapunzel's brows formed a neat V as she pushed one of her mother's hands free of her shoulder. "I can't stay," she told them, expecting sadness, instead of the worry they all suddenly wore in their eyes. "But I'll visit. I promise."

She made to move away when her father suddenly reached for her wrist. "Sweetheart, please! Don't go back to that devil! He'll flay you, just like he did his family!"

Rapunzel stilled. She saw her friends do the same as well—except they weren't watching her father.

They were watching her.

"What?" Rapunzel asked her father.

"The boy murdered his entire family, an older sister and two younger brothers. Then the coward had the sense to run away and get himself into that pirate business. No one's dared chase after him, not after everything he's done."

Rapunzel's head spun wildly, a headache blooming at her temple. When she turned to Merida and Hiccup, she found them completely unsurprised by the news she just been given. It was true, then. Jack had killed his own family. That explained why he ran away—why he didn't want to come back.

Rapunzel ripped her wrist out of her father's grip. There was an explanation, there had to be! Jack wasn't a monster. But why hadn't he told her what he did? Why hadn't he...?

She stormed out of Corona, ignoring her family's pleading calls. Merida and Hiccup said nothing, but she was pleased to hear they were struggling to follow her quick pace.

"Explain!" She yelled at Jack when she found him hanging by the bridge. Tears already stained her cheeks, but she didn't attempt to wipe them away. She could see it on his face, then, the horrified realization that she knows. Rapunzel knew what he'd been trying so hard to hide from her.

"I..." he started, but failed to continue.

"Your own family!" Her yells were drawing attention from the townsfolk, but she couldn't stop, couldn't stop it with the utter pain radiating through her.

"Not to interrupt," Hiccup hesitantly started, "But can we talk about this while—"

"It's there!" Rapunzel jammed her finger over a spot his open map. "Go find your damn flower!"

Red tainted Hiccup's cheeks, sending a rush of guilt swishing through her stomach. He and Merida rushed off without another word. She'd apologize to them after—they'd done nothing wrong. This had been Jack's secret to share, and he'd failed to do so. "Why?"

His blue eyes flashed. He glanced around them quickly. Then, he took her elbow and led her behind a nearby stand. She should have felt afraid, but he was so familiar. She'd trusted him far too much, and now her body couldn't even be afraid of him.

"It was... It wasn't me," he explained. "I mean, it was, but it wasn't. Not really."

Rapunzel lip quivered. "You're not making much sense."

Jack let go of her elbow and turned away from her. He rubbed a hand through his hair, pulling. Finally, they dropped tiredly to his sides. "It happened after the curse," he whispered. "I stole from the wrong lady. She was talking gibberish to me, saying how she was gonna curse me and all that. Thought she was just rattling out stuff that she knew would scare a normal kid." He shook his head, deep in memory. "I ran back home. Went to sleep thinking my brothers would have the laughs of their lives after I told them about what happened tomorrow." His shoulders shook, but Rapunzel couldn't hear him crying. "I woke up in the middle of the night. All I remember is sitting in the backyard, looking at—at their bodies, all—"

Rapunzel's hand betrayed her. She placed it over his shoulder in comfort, and he turned his face toward her in reflex. They were tear-filled; he had been crying after all. "You don't have to—"

"I flayed them alive. Probably did more, too, seeing how frostbitten they looked. I don't remember anything other than sitting in the yard looking at them. And then running for the fastest boat off land. I knew even then that nothing I could do would bring em' back."

Rapunzel could feel her heart wrenching, twisting harshly at the memory. How horrible must it have been to live with such a sight engrained in your mind? And she'd thought she'd experienced scarring things.

Frostbitten. It explained why he'd refused to use his powers during her first years on board. It took three entire years for them to become close friends, for Rapunzel to develop a crush she hadn't known he returned until that evening in the ship's stores when they'd gotten closer than usual. "Can I kiss you?" He'd asked, face only inches from hers. He had her pressed against the wall as soon as she'd whispered, "Yes." But the flashes of her past still haunted her, then. More than they did now that she knew she was safe. It had taken her long to let him share more than simple kisses in the shadows with her.

It had taken him just as long to give in to Rapunzel's constant encouragement for him to make use of his powers.

"Did you ever try pursuing the witch?" She asked him. "Maybe she would have known how to reverse it."

Jack bobbed his head up and down. "She was Black's mistress in Gothelitch."

Betrayal bloomed inside Rapunzel like a poisoned flower. "That's why you came to the island. To the house. To get your revenge on the Great Dame. You weren't planning on saving us at all, were you?"

Jack looked away, and Rapunzel slid her hand off of him. "Please," he begged, suddenly, looking back at her with widened eyes. His hand had quickly found its way to the crook of her elbow. "The crew really did want to get you girls out of there after we made it. I did. You know I would never lie to anyone on board, especially not you."

Rapunzel closed her eyes as his palm reached her jaw. He pet a thumb against her cheek, sending sparks running through her skin with every stroke. "I wouldn't of hated you if you'd told me," she whispered. "I could never hate you."

"You should," he whispered back. "You really should."

"Jack," Rapunzel opened her eyes. "It wasn't your fault. What you did. Your heart's as good as the Gods above, it was the curse that—"

"There he is!"

Rapunzel twisted fast toward the street, where Poppy stood pointing with a guard at her side. Fear shot through her heart—Jack was not welcome on this island, that much was clear to her now. "Run!" He pulled him away with her, just as a gunshot sounded. Its smell soured the air around them as they ran to shore, fast as their legs could take them. More gunshots came as they found their way to their boat and started rowing. Rapunzel watched as they pulled Merida and Hiccup's boat off shore—they'd have to come find them later.

Then, one last gunshot fired, and it had its eye on Jack's back. He lurched forward as Rapunzel cried out. "Hold it!" She told him, taking charge of the rowing. Her arms were already starting to burn from the pull, but she was glad to see Jack finally do what he was told. "Rip my skirts," she added.

Despite his situation, Jack still managed to smirk. "I don't think now's the time for that, princess."

"Rip my skirts," she said again. "Use it to cover the wound until we get on deck"

"Princess," Jack struggled to hum again in her lap. He was silent for a moment as he tried and failed to move himself upward. "I can't feel my right hand, and my thigh's going numb."

Rapunzel was breathing hard, sweat beading at her brow. She rowed faster. "What?" She said, looking down at him. "You—no. No, you'll be alright." She stopped rowing, suddenly, and helped him into a sitting position at the bottom of the boat, despite his protests. She wasn't strong enough to tear the fabric of her skirts, so she made sure he kept his left sleeve against the open would while she took Jack's previous place and worked all of her energy into rowing. "You'll be alright," she kept telling him.

But the both of them knew he wouldn't be.

"The Golden Flower has healing magic, doesn't it?" Rapunzel asked.

"It'll be too late," Jack answered.

"No," she insisted. "I'll hop on a boat with Vladimir as soon as we get back. We'll tie a second one with us and carry it along for Merida and—"

"No, Zella." Jack's voice was stern, decisive. It left no room for argument. "We're going back for them, just not now. They're smart enough to hold out on their own."

"Jack," Rapunzel's voice was weak, broken. The bullet had hit his spinal cord. He was being forced to succumb to paralysis, something she couldn't imagine would ever be easy for Jack to bare, considering how active he always was. He'd realized it, too, she knew. How horrible must he be feeling, knowing his fate? And after everything he'd gone through.

It wasn't fair.

Nothing was fair.

Rapunzel cried out for the crew as soon as they were close enough to the Zella. Nothing was fair, that was true, but from now on, she vowed, she would make sure to make that very saying as untrue as she could.

[prettywordsyouleft]

His Voice

Summary: All B wanted was to talk to her lover. But after the tragic way her mother had died, it felt as if misfortune would keep her thoughts inside of her forever.

Pairing: Jae Park x OC

World: Her Name (read HERE) / Spiritual Connection

Genre: angst / romance / period au

Warnings: death

A/N: If you’re anything like I was, there were a few things in Her Name that weren’t answered. Like why B couldn’t talk, why no one seemed to speak her name and what she was thinking when Jae was doing that he was! And so with a request from @noona-clock​ who also wanted to know what her character was up to, I’ve written this POV.

It’s going to make no sense if you don’t read Her Name first, which I’ve linked above.

Word count: 4708

Tragic was the only word Becky could use to explain her existence.

From the moment she was born to the day she died, she had been followed around by misfortune. It was unfair, and she had cried that towards the Gods for most of her life. Yet she had equally been aware of how foolish it was to expect anything good to happen in her life when she knew her fate was to lose all those who meant the most to her.

She had been far too greedy and thus suffered the consequence.

As a young child, Becky had lived carefree, her spirit as loud as her voice was. Her name would fall from the lips of every resident in the village daily, and most often from her mother.

“Becky!”

“Yes mama?”

“Come inside before you catch a chill!” the woman called from the front door and the young child looked at the small hut she had been playing in among the trees and then back at her mother. The woman smiled and so she began to move, rushing into her arms quickly. “Why, your skin is like ice!”

“I’ll warm up faster if your arms remain like this,” she replied and her mother chuckled, rubbing her hands gently over her child. Becky grinned up at her. “You have the magic touch!”

“I’m your mother; it would be a crime if I did not have some special ability to protect you.”

And protect her, she had.

The fire had taken hold of everything in its path, flames licking up the walls of the building as if it were made of mere parchment. Becky wrestled in the grip of those holding her back, screaming out for her mother to return after she had been pushed out of the house to safety. Her world was engulfed by the flames, her screams heard by no one to save the woman she cared for the most.

Instead, the words of others burdened her further in the wake of her mother’s death.

“The fire? It was started because of my daughter here. She got sick and Mary was trying to keep her warm. I told her the upstairs fireplace wasn’t safe but Becky was frozen, what could she do? She barely managed to save her before the fire took over.”

Her father’s admission to those asking questions burdened his daughter with the weight of her mother’s demise. It was because of her, because she had gone out into the cold one too many times that she had gotten sick and needed the extra heating.

Becky’s illness only deepened, leaving her father stricken with the loss of his wife and now her ailing health. And yet, there was no magic touch that could cure this, no comforting words to be breathed into her hair as she wrestled with her fever. It was a long twenty days stuck in bed, walking the fine line between death and living. She longed to see her mother, uncaring of the life around her. There was no desire to play, to sing, to even talk. What words could she express to her father? Her apologetic heart was too heavy for the words to even fall from her lips. The guilt consumed her, detaching her from all that surrounded her. The faces of the townspeople, their eyes filling with sadness, with pity. There goes the girl who now had no mother.

The mother she had insisted warm her up when she couldn’t remove the shiver from her body.

For some reason, the Gods would not accept Becky’s departure from this world. As her health returned and she grew stronger by the day, Becky came to realise this was her punishment. She would remain bound to this hellish existence for the crimes she had committed.

No one told her it wasn’t her fault. No one comforted her with the knowledge that it was an accident. Whilst it was a tragedy for the people of the village, to Becky it became a stain on her skin, something she couldn’t remove no matter how often she scrubbed at herself.

And because no one talked to her about it, she didn’t reach out either. What value did her words hold now? If she went out into the streets and cried, would someone come to her aide? Would they listen to her concerns? Her father barely spoke to her now, instead turned to the comfort of ale. He would drink until the innkeeper carried him upstairs to the room they shared, shaking his head with a sigh at the state of them both.

The widowed drunk and the murderer.

A change in scenery had her father hopeful their lives would improve. And although she was miserable, Becky yearned for the same kind of future. Two years had passed by and she felt enclosed in her hometown. Moving on meant she could break free from the shackles, from the status she felt pressed into there.

Still, it came with its own set of problems.

If the last village she lived in was far too quiet towards her, this one was far too loud.

“Hello!” a child greeted as she sat on the step of her new home, her father taking over the local tavern. Looking up at the boy, she politely smiled. “Do you want to come and play? What’s your name? I’m Wonpil!”

Becky blinked, her mouth opening just a little, a huff of air leaving her. It had been so long since anyone has asked her something and now she had been asked two questions within a minute. It put her in a bind, especially since she couldn’t seem to answer either of his questions.

Wonpil frowned, looking over at his friends by the tree for assistance. Two more joined him and Becky pressed her back into her front door.

“Do you not want to play?” one of them asked and the other looked at her feet where she had been drawing with a stick.

He smiled. “B? My name starts with a B too. I’m Brian and this is Sungjin. Say, if you don’t want to share your full name with us, I’m going to call you B!”

“B, do you want to play?” Wonpil asked with renewed interest and she nodded feebly, following the boys out into the field where she ran around until the sun went down.

As the years went by, B was all she went by. The lively Becky she knew of had long disappeared, and she had grown accustomed to being B. The girl who didn’t speak, who lived with a book firmly in front of her face and with a small network of young men who protected her from having to try and be anything else. Brian, Wonpil and Sungjin had gone into the workforce now, labouring the lands of the estate that ran this village. There wasn’t time left to play as they once did, instead it was common they would come to the tavern she now worked in to check on her and drink down an ale after a hard day’s work. Dowoon had soon joined them and his inquisitive nature over why she didn’t speak soon settled.

In fact, the whole town never questioned it these days. There had been some talk when she and her father first moved in, though with a brief explanation that she had lost her ability to talk in an accident, no one seemed to press the matter further.

She was able to exist, slip by under the radar and hear all too much when those around her didn’t add her into conversations. Sometimes Becky wanted to scream or tell them of her thoughts. When Clyde started cheating on his wife with the daughter of the local physician, she had wanted to alert someone about it. Murray would often sit and wonder where all his money was going and she knew that it was his son who was taking it from under his nose. It was a little frustrating to know all these things and yet she was someone no one expected to hear from so what good would it do?

Despite not being able to talk, she had a lot to say still. She would write down everything, her journal her only solace. It was the only thing that saw her true thoughts and held all her conversations.

Until she met the newcomer.

When her friends entered the bar, Becky had rushed towards the counter, smiling brightly as Brian greeted her. She went from one face to the next, taking in the little changes that being out in the sun all day was doing to them. And then she stopped short, blinking slowly at the man who trailed in behind them. His eyes took their time to soak her in, a small yet warm smile crossing his lips.

“Ma’am.”

She didn’t know what to do. With his one word, Becky felt her heart begin to thud in her chest. Turning away rapidly, she started preparing drinks for the workers. Just who was this tall fellow with her friends? Glancing over at their table now and then, she found him staring at her, his gaze curious. She knew it wouldn’t take long, the men he sat with would tell him what he needed to know.

She didn’t talk, so just leave her be.

For some peculiar reason, Becky yearned to have a voice now. Eighteen years had passed without using it and it felt like an impossible feat to even work her lips in a way to speak a single word. And yet, every time the handsome man walked into the tavern, the same longing would overwhelm her, especially when he started sitting up on the stools before the counter.

Becky had learned his name was Jae and he had travelled from the city to the countryside from overhearing a conversation about him. She wished to know more. Why did he leave the city and come here? What was the city like? Did he like being so close to the sea? And most importantly, why was his voice like honey, soothing to listen to at any time?

“Hello, B, how are you?” Jae greeted as he held his hand up with a wave, his smile knocking some of the air out of her lungs. She smiled, turning to make him a drink before placing it down on the top of the counter.

Jae was unlike most men who worked around here. They would turn up for their lager and down it almost immediately in some game of masculinity. It was expected to drink a lot whilst in this establishment, as a way to release the tension of the working day. More often than not, Jae would barely even touch his drink, instead resting his elbows on the countertop and lazily holding his head in his hands.

And he would watch her.

It didn’t feel invasive, although the attention was more than she was used to. Normally she was only good for handing out drinks and becoming part of the bar like some fixture until a new round was needed.

No one paid much attention to her since she didn’t offer them a reason to.

Yet Jae was adamant to talk to her.

“Today the flowers began to bloom in the gardens at the estate. They looked lovely against the house, though I’m not fond of the bees that come with them. The other day, Dowoon got stung by one of them. It sure was a bit of a panic until he stopped his screaming.”

Becky spent the following morning staring into the mirror before her and trying to will her mouth to speak. She had wanted to ask what kind of flowers were growing there and if Dowoon was okay.

This kind of feeling continued every time she met with Jae. He would ask her silly little questions that he knew she couldn’t just answer with a shake or nod of her head, or tell her something that happened, and she would practise until her throat hurt and tears would fall the following day, wishing there was a way she could talk again.

It was a mixed feeling of happiness and dread whenever she saw Jae step inside and walk her way because of how different he was from everyone else.

And once again, he had been asking her one too many questions in a row before he stopped to smile, humming softly. “Are your eyes brown or hazel?”

Enough was enough. She groaned which surprised not only Jae but herself, his laughter soon tumbling out. The joyous sound made her knees weak and she turned away from him, gripping onto the counter in hopes it would keep her steady. And once she recovered, she faced Jae again, smiling forcibly.

“You know, I’m just going to keep annoying you right?”

If only he knew it was only annoying because she couldn’t respond back.

Jae came up with a solution to that. After a night in the bar with pen and paper, Becky had found there to be an easier way for the pair to converse. And since it had been almost two decades since she had a proper conversation with anyone, writing letters back and forth with Jae excited her to no end. No longer did her journal house her unspoken words, instead, she wrote them to Jae. Perhaps, she shared too much. He would always joke about how many extra pages she had him read each time, but she knew Jae enjoyed them all.

The only thing she didn’t share with him was her name. He, much like the rest of this township knew her as B and Becky was a person only she knew well. It felt wrong to let her out after all these years, even if she wanted to hear the way he said her name in person. Jae could say anything to her and Becky would listen avidly, his voice now addictive as much as his thoughts were.

So it surprised her to find him on her doorstep mid-morning, talking with her father and asking to take her out. She could see the picnic basket in his hand and she gasped, unsure what to do in that moment. Darting outside before her father could say anything, Becky stood before Jae entirely flustered. His smile only increased that feeling and she let out a whine before racing back inside to change. She couldn’t believe he was here and wanting to spend time with her.

When his hand swung near hers on the way to the lakeside to have their picnic, Becky tried not to grab it for her own. She knew she was infatuated by the man and she had a suspicion he felt similar. It wasn’t until he took her hand and threaded his fingers with hers that she realised that there was more to them than fascination. For her, she couldn’t imagine going long without seeing him now.

And as he read to her after eating together, she wanted nothing more than the love story he spoke of to become theirs, nestling into his side and dreaming of a world where she could tell him she loved him ardently, just as the protagonist of the novel had.

After their first picnic, Jae took Becky out with him whenever he could. And each time she would find herself staring at him, hoping he could see with her eyes just how much she adored him. She wanted nothing more than to shout it from the rooftops, to tell him all the ways she loved him.

But she couldn’t bring herself to write it down in ink.

So when he kissed her after playing in the lake together and uttered he loved her, well, Becky felt too many emotions to comprehend. Of course, she was relieved to hear the words from his mouth, knowing she had sent them over and over with her heart to him. But she was disappointed that she couldn’t say it back. That her lips wouldn’t utter three magical words. With all her endless mirror practice, her muscles had developed and she was making noises she hadn’t in some time. Becky was still a long way from being able to tell him of her feelings that way. And she was ashamed, wondering if their whole lives together would pass by with her pleading for words to fall from her mouth.

Jae didn’t care that she didn’t talk though. He never held it against her, often telling her he felt full whenever he was with her. Slowly, he began to break down that stigma as their relationship developed, expressing that her ways of communicating were his favourite. He empowered her and comforted those nerves whenever they arose again.

And he knew she loved him entirely, just as much as he told her every time they met.

With the budding romance now in full bloom, Becky didn’t know how much longer she would take being separated from him. Sending him away every night after their time together made her ache more. She wanted more than they had, greedy for a life she had dreamed of for so long now. One where she could call him hers and fall asleep at his side every night. She was reluctant to let him out of her sight now that he was the most important person in her world.

Knowing she wasn’t there with him at any given moment made her uneasy.

And just as he had last time, Jae dropped her off at her front door with a parting kiss, his lips lingering longer than needed. Her hands held him more tightly, hoping he wouldn’t step back, that there could be a way where he could come inside with her. Although it was unfathomable, especially before marriage, she didn’t want to think of him sleeping elsewhere.

Still, he moved back and her heart cried again. His name repeated in her head with each step he took away from her, and with her desperation, she finally found a way to speak it. Running to him, she clung to her lover, saying his name over and over.

It was the turning point they both needed.

“Beatrice,” Jae suggested and Becky shook her head, cleaning the mugs as she watched him cross the name off. He said three more until the next name rolled off his tongue, piercing her mind and imprinting immediately. “Becky.”

She smiled, trying to keep it together at his name suggestion. Technically, it was all she had gone by. Although her name was Rebecca in full, she couldn’t remember anyone ever calling her that. And so, she shook her head since he was still playing the guessing game over her name for as long as he had known her. She couldn’t help but inwardly giggle, knowing the man would never guess her name if he kept looking at B names.

“Becky. It’s Becky, isn’t it?!” Jae exclaimed, leaning forward towards her. Then he laughed as she shook her head and looked away. “B is for Becky. Now here I thought I would feel more than this after figuring out your name.”

No, it’s not, she answered after whipping around and scrawling down a reply with his pen.

“You can’t say that’s not your name, you responded to it. Becky suits you! You’re my Becky.”

Her heart swooned despite her avoidance of the situation. She tried to tune out Dowoon’s teasing that started when he approached the pair at the bar as she worked on settling her emotions, though when she heard the word wedding, she began to blush profusely.

“Why would you go and say that, look how uneasy you have made her! And what do you think I’m working towards? I need to know her name before I ask her to be my bride.”

Her ears began to ring as she let go of the mug she had been working on, staring down at the broken pieces before her. Jae appeared in her blurred vision then and before she could think too much about it, Becky ran off, shutting the front door before Jae could reach her.

And then she began to panic.

If she had told him her name sooner, would they already be man and wife by now? Why had she felt the strong urge to keep it from him? There was no need to lie, and she never had, but omitting the facts of her earlier life had made her feel guilty. Here she had the most amazing man standing before her and she was scared that he wouldn’t want to be with her after he knew everything.

“I’m sorry, okay?! I didn’t mean to frighten you like that with my intentions. Won’t you just come out?!” Jae yelled as he banged on the door.

If Jae wanted to marry her, then she would need to tell him everything. Starting with her name. And after scribbling it down on a piece of paper, she thrust it out the door, watching his reaction through the window beside it.

“Why can’t you just come out and let me talk?” he breathed in frustration, unfolding the paper hastily, stopping when he saw what was on the page. Jae then spoke her name into existence. “Rebecca.”

It was a small step forward. Much like her ability to breathe out his name, hearing him call her by Becky took some getting used to. She had so much more to tell him, and yet he was talking more than usual.

“Won’t you just marry me right now?” he whined for the umpteenth time and Becky bit her lip, shooting him a reproachful stare. Jae chuckled. “I don’t want to wait two more months. You’re my bride to be, let’s just get hitched tomorrow.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Jae,” Sungjin chuckled as he looked between the couple. “We have work tomorrow.”

“And with Christmas right around the bend, that work will see no end to it,” Brian added on with a sigh. He then smiled at Becky. “Though, I do say, you will be the sweetest Christmas bride, Becky.”

She glowed, nodding lightly and burying into Jae’s arm. He chuckled. “It doesn’t matter what day it is, of course my love will be the most beautiful bride to exist.”

“Yeah-yeah, we get it,” Wonpil said with a sigh and Dowoon grinned. “Rub it in our faces, true love exists.”

“And it’s never separated,” Sungjin mused. “I’m glad you have each other.”

“Me too,” Jae commented on Becky’s behalf, nuzzling her nose affectionately. It wasn’t often that Jae showed his love for her in front of his friends, but lately he was increasingly clingy.

Becky didn’t mind it one bit, soaking in every sweet gesture as she counted down the days until she spoke the two words she had been practising endlessly. I do.

Though fate would have it, she would never get to say them.

“Wake up! The estate is on fire!” someone shrilled outside in the street and she sat up with a start, her heart hammering in her chest as she threw clothing on.

She could see the haze of the fire up ahead, the large estate engulfed in flames. Becky tried to rush, though her legs felt like lead, her memories as a child flooding her senses. She saw both worlds through eyes of terror, her steps sluggish as the screams began to erupt in her chest.

She needed to get to Jae, to see him and touch him. To know he was alright and safe. She needed to breathe but her lungs were too heavy, the smoke too thick around her.

“JAE!” she screamed as loudly as she could before her mind blanked out, collapsing to the ground.

When Becky came to, she was in her bed. Thrashing away from the blankets, she sat up with a start, her chest too heavy to comprehend anything. Where was Jae and why was he not here for her?

“My dear, you need to rest. Please,” begged the kind old lady from next door. Becky scanned her expression, noting the downcast expression. She had seen that look before, many years ago as a child. Choking back a sob, she tried to speak.

“J-Jae?”

Lifting a handkerchief to her weathered face, the woman tried to stem her tears. “We need to focus on getting better first.”

“Jae!” Becky repeated with more force, the tears rolling into the grooves on the woman’s face. “Jae!”

“I’m afraid he has perished with the fire. All the gardening men did.”

It was like déjà vu. The agony of loss crippled her and Becky succumbed to a terrible illness. She wished to leave this earth, to follow Jae and her friends into the afterlife. There was nothing left for her now.

Against her own will, Becky began to recover. Her health mocked her, punishing her to another season of misfortune. She was numb to the world, staring out at the lake often enough that when she entered it, her father was there to save her before her last breath.

And he promptly sent her to live with a relative in the city.

Aunt Maggie had lost her husband five years previous and had lived a miserable, lonely existence since. She didn’t ask much of Becky outside of cleaning and cooking and never sought out her company. Still, Maggie was a comfort in this harsh world whilst Becky lived out ten more years before passing peacefully in her sleep.

It wasn’t as simple as she had thought death to be. There were rules that kept her bound to her home in the city. There was no ability to find the man she loved, no matter how often she tried. Though there was one thing that returned to her and it made her laugh bitterly to have it back. She could talk with complete ease now and no one was there to hear her.

Apart from the young daughter of the household, many years onward. Rose leaned forward, abandoning the dollhouse before her. “What is your name?”

Frowning, the ghost shook her head. “Well, I don’t quite remember. I feel it starts with a B though.”

“I shall refer to you as B then!”

It felt fitting and she would often find herself writing a J next to the B whenever she held a pen. She hadn’t forgotten his face, no matter how many years had travelled between them. But she had very little to go on, mere fragments of her past appearing in dreams. Kisses against a tree or holding his hand and swinging it as she laughed; they were few and far between. Those thoughts kept her on edge even when Rose stopped playing with her, a need to find him, to search for the man who held her heart. She could describe him right down to the shade of his dusky rose lips, and yet no full name matched him.

He was simply J and she was B.

“Where are you heading Rose?” B asked of the now middle-aged woman she had been assigned to, watching as the woman packed a suitcase with enough supplies for a weekend away. Curious, and quite frankly relieved to leave the confines of her home in the city, B travelled as Rose’s companion. They arrived within two hours to their destination, an old manor standing proudly before them. B looked towards the view of the sea below and sighed, it felt so familiar to her.

Following Rose up into the bed and breakfast, she marvelled at the history of this place. It had clearly seen a lot of hard and prosperous moments in its time and as she walked with Rose into the main living room, B stopped in her tracks as she listened to two men talking together that no one seemed to pay any attention to.

B knew that voice anywhere, and a flood of memories resurfaced, rooting her to the spot she stood upon. And when one of the men turned to her, the other pointing out that she was dead like they were, she smiled softly.

She remembered his name now.

Jae.

_________________

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[pandirwrites]

Recoil Damage (Seto/Jou)

Admittedly, Jounouchi really should have known better than to take Kaiba’s bait, but rational decisions had never been his strong suit. There, something they apparently had in common, because Kaiba should have known better than to challenge him like this.

Set after the ending of the series and pre-DSOD.

Pairings: Jounouchi/Seto, and a bit of Yugi/Jounouchi fluff.

Warnings: rough making out, a bit of choking (consensual but still questionable), some punches and a bleeding nose.

Also on Ao3~

For a few months after the mess that had been Battle City, they had all but forgotten about Kaiba, even though it was hard to ignore the ever-present Kaiba Corporation. With their adventures in not-really-old-Egypt and the aftermath of Atem leaving, it was really no surprise - after all, Jounouchi, as well as Yugi, Anzu and Honda, all had their own problems to sort out. And then, suddenly, there were exams still waiting and with them, the looming question of what would come after that, after school.

With all those very real and serious things ahead of them, it came almost as a surprise to be handed the flyers at school. KC was looking for young duellists to test something that sounded very much like a new duelling system. Of course, that was a welcome break from boring real life problems. Yugi had been curious, and Jounouchi was more than ready to accompany him, and when they managed to get an invitation for a bit of play testing, they spent the entire afternoon speculating about what gimmicks a new Duel Disk would have to offer.

“Maybe there’s gonna be a tournament soon”, Jounouchi proposed, and Yugi nodded, equally enthusiastic.

“That would be great!”

“Yeah, I really could use the chance to let off some steam after all that cramming for school.”

The actual play testing was not as exciting as Jounouchi and Yugi had dreamed them up to be. All they had been tasked to do was to pick cards from what seemed to be a limitless virtual database and play a few not too challenging mock duels with no special effects. That did not dampen their enthusiasm, though, and they had much to theorize about as soon as they could take their simulation visors off.

“I’m sure we haven’t seen all of it yet”, Yugi mused when they were waiting in the corridor with the others that had been play testing the system. “Kaiba would probably not give away too much in advance, you know?”

A murmur went through the small crowd, drawing Yugi’s attention, and Jounouchi turned his head just to see that the great Seto Kaiba himself made his way to through the corridor, accompanied by two of his employees. Just as he walked past them, Yugi came up to him to greet him.

“Hello, Kaiba!”, he said, genuinely pleased about the chance to compliment him in person, “What I’ve seen from your new system so far looks pretty great already! I’m really looking forward to it.”

First, it seemed as if Kaiba hadn't noticed him at all, but when Yugi expressed his excitement, he shot him a look that was nothing short of disdain. That made Yugi stop in his tracks, caught by surprise.

“Hey, dickhead, he’s talking to you!” Jounouchi rose to his feet in an instant, but Yugi’s hand on his arm kept him from launching after Kaiba to drag him right back.

“You should let me teach him some manners”, Jounouchi insisted, but Yugi shook his head.

“It’s not worth it, and I really don’t want you to get into trouble.”

Jounouchi wanted to protest, but he was quickly distracted by the frown on Yugi’s face as he watched Kaiba vanish into one of the hallways down the corridor. Jounouchi did not like the way Kaiba’s jerkass behaviour seemed to concern Yugi more than anything.

Yugi was lost in thought after that, but before Jounouchi quite succeeded in either cheering him up or getting him to talk about it, he was called into one of the small bureaus for his feedback talk.

Since he was left to wait for someone to come and interview him, Jounouchi sat down in the chair in front of the desk and tried his best to not get too worked up about what had happened. It really hadn’t been too much to ask for a warmer greeting from Kaiba, after all that Yugi had done for him. But by now, shouldn’t they all know better than to expect basic human decency? When it came down to it, Kaiba had been looking for trouble ever since he had attempted to murder them all and had continued to be a massive dickhead with zero regrets whenever they met. He was just lucky that Jounouchi was usually above that kind of shit nowadays and that Yugi did not appreciate a more violent approach, or he would have beaten Kaiba’s face in six ways from Sunday already on several occasions.

But as it turned out, given the right opportunity, like meeting Kaiba alone in a small room, Kaiba’s face as unmoving and arrogant as usual and the dismissive glance he’d given Yugi still fresh on Jounouchi’s mind, Jounouchi wasn't above anything less than what Kaiba deserved.

*

As soon as Kaiba entered the room, Jounouchi was all too aware that something was not right about this. Why on earth would Kaiba bother with questioning him personally? And when Kaiba locked the door behind him, Jounouchi’s instincts had him already on the edge.

He got up from his chair.

“Alright, spit it out, what do you want with me, Kaiba?”

Without even giving him so much as a glance, left alone any answer to his question, Kaiba took off his coat to hang it on the coatrack beside the door. When he came over to Jounouchi, the fact that he was standing and glaring at him did not seem to concern him the slightest. Of course not, when had Kaiba ever taken him seriously.

Jounouchi’s anger had been simmering right beneath the surface, but he was still containing it, waiting for Kaiba to make the first move. Kaiba, however, was very purposefully ignoring that Jounouchi had dared to address him. Well, Jounouchi had news for him then. He wouldn’t just let that kind of behaviour fly, especially not considering it had made Yugi feel bad.

In all honesty, Jounouchi was by now just looking for an excuse and Kaiba, it seemed, was only too ready to give him one.

“I cannot believe a low-tier duellist like you was allowed access”, Kaiba said as he glared down on him, all tall and mighty, ready to unleash the assault, “A mistake I’ll have to remedy imm--.”

There was something immensely satisfying about shutting Kaiba up.

When Jounouchi’s fist collided with Kaiba’s bony face, it sent Kaiba stumbling backwards until he caught himself with one hand on the desk, the other pressed to his face. He hissed at the pain, his eyes now on Jounouchi. There was nothing mocking in them anymore, just anger.

That was much better.

Kaiba straightened his posture again and was about to open his mouth, but Jounouchi was faster. He did not wait for the inevitable threat. In fact, he was well-aware that this could really get him into trouble - after all, Kaiba had his own security and all that - but Jounouchi certainly was not intimidated by that. He’d survived Kaiba’s worst already, and there were no sick, twisted games or payed goons to help him now.

A calm had come over Jounouchi, an anger that was not as hot, but sharp and dangerous. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been itching to do this for ages.

This time, Jounouchi aimed straight for the nose. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Kaiba had awful reflexes when it came to physical fights and barely evaded the punch at all, and Jounouchi hit him square in the face with an ugly, cracking sound.

There was blood on Jounouchi’s knuckles when he withdrew, leaving Kaiba to sink against the table to regain his senses. Kaiba’s nose was bleeding, the dark liquid dripping from his chin in thick drops, but Kaiba did not bother trying to stem the flow. Instead, he seemed strangely fascinated by the sight of his own blood-stained fingers after he had inspected the damage.

For a second, Kaiba did not react at all. Jounouchi assumed that no one had ever dared to bash his precious face in before, which was a miracle in and of itself, since Kaiba was the single most punchable person Jounouchi had ever met.

Then Kaiba started laughing, and it was a hollow, joyless laughter that brought back some pretty awful memories of near-death experiences Jounouchi usually preferred to forget about but had never quite forgiven him for.

“Is that all?”, Kaiba said, and his derisive tone was unusually calm. “I should have expected as much.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.” Jounouchi rolled his shoulders and gave Kaiba an appraising look. No matter how much he’d like to deliver, Kaiba already had to lean against the table to support himself, and Jounouchi wouldn’t kick anyone who was already basically on the ground. “But I usually prefer a more even fight. I think you had enough.”

There was a strange gleam in Kaiba’s eyes as he pushed himself off the desk again, slightly wobbly on his legs and his face half-covered in blood.

“That’s a weakling’s excuse”, he snapped, and took a step towards him, probably to intimidate him. “But if you want to run like a coward as soon as you see some blood, you can try leaving. Just know that you will not get anywhere unless I let you.”

That was definitely a creepy thing to say, especially considering that Kaiba had locked the door before they had even started talking, but Jounouchi was not backing away.

“I’m not afraid of you, Kaiba”, he said, his tone heated but firm, even though he did not appreciate their sudden proximity all that much.

Kaiba made a dismissive noise. He had recovered astonishingly well, even though he was still bleeding on the collar of his black turtleneck.

“Why are you hesitating, then, I wonder?”, he asked, and the condescending way he said it was enough to make Jounouchi’s blood boil. It was only then that it finally clicked. That bastard was not only mocking him, he was daring him.

“If this is your attempt at revenge, it is nothing but pathetic”, Kaiba snarled as he looked down on him, his gaze cold and impassive. “I had you grovelling in the dirt at my feet once I was through with you.”

That did it. Whatever else Kaiba had wanted to say was derailed by him getting yanked forward by the collar of his turtleneck and lost in a choked noise as Jounouchi’s knee met his stomach with full force, effectively knocking the air right out of him. Before Kaiba could catch his breath and even make as much as a sound, he found himself trapped with his back on the table and Jounouchi above him, his forearm pressed to Kaiba’s throat and shoulders to keep him down, effectively choking him. Admittedly, Jounouchi really should have known better than to take Kaiba’s bait, but rational decisions had never been his strong suit. There, something they apparently had in common, because Kaiba should have known better than to challenge him like this.

Now that he was pressing Kaiba down with his own body weight, Jounouchi noticed for the first time how thin Kaiba was - despite his wavy coats and impressive height, there was not much to him. Still, Jounouchi had expected him to have some ace up his sleeve and not to end up lying beneath him, defenceless, bloodied and beaten, and entirely unable to speak. That in and of itself should probably not have felt as good as it did, but right now, Jounouchi could not find it in him to care. All he knew was that he had the upper hand for now, and it was an elevating feeling that rushed through him with sudden, hot intensity. Jounouchi couldn’t help but to press down a little harder, just to savour it. When Kaiba made a strangled noise in response, however, it started to seep in that something was not right about the way Kaiba reacted to this. It did not help that Kaiba did not even grab his arm and attempt to fight him. His hands were uselessly resting on the table surface beside his head as he struggled for breath, and something about how vocal he was with his choked, gagging noises was decidedly off. It was only then that Jounouchi realized he was basically pushing Kaiba on the table with his hips between Kaiba’s legs and the rush this entire situation was giving him mingled a bit too well with Kaiba gasping wordlessly and squirming against him.

That was enough to make him release Kaiba again and Kaiba tried to collect himself while struggling to breathe, coughing and wheezing, sending blood spraying from his lips.

“Man, you’re such a fucking weirdo”, Jounouchi muttered, more to himself than anything, but Kaiba’s eyes were immediately on him again.

“And what does that make you then?” Kaiba’s voice was hoarse and his breath was still rattling in his windpipe thanks to the blood he inevitably inhaled, but his gaze trailing to Jounouchi’s crotch made his point clear enough.

And yes, all that squirming and gasping had definitely done something for Jounouchi, and he did not really know what to do with that realization. Not that he wasn’t aware he had some fucked-up shit deep inside of him, and overpowering Kaiba was something he could get the appeal of. It was just that being aroused by Kaiba, or just in the vicinity of Kaiba, was decidedly awkward.

“Listen, Kaiba”, he decided, “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m done here.”

It was clear Kaiba was getting some strange kick out of provoking him, and Jounouchi wouldn’t be used liked that. But before he could even take a step back, Kaiba grabbed his arm in what seemed more like a kneejerk reaction, his fingers digging into the fabric.

“Don’t think I’ll let you leave like this.”

Kaiba probably meant that far more menacing then it sounded, but his voice was pressed and wavering slightly, and that he was still sitting on the desk did not really help much, either.

In hindsight, this was exactly the moment when Jounouchi should have left. But for the first time, Jounouchi had some sort of leverage over Kaiba, something that Kaiba seemed to want, even need, from him. It was too tempting to give that up just now.

“Why, what are you gonna do, Kaiba?”, he asked, and he wasn’t even just teasing, he was honestly curious. Kaiba was not the one to call the shots here, for once, and that meant he was running out of options. “Threaten me? Order me around?”

Instead of an answer, Kaiba grabbed him by the collar of his jacket to pull himself up, and Jounouchi let him. He did not bend down, however, and Kaiba had to practically cling to him just to look him in the eye. It was only with their faces this close that Jounouchi couldn’t help but notice how awful Kaiba looked, and it wasn’t just because there was dark blood splattered all over his bruised mouth and cheek. He was pale, almost drained, his face was practically emaciated and there was something haunted in his look.

“I’m certainly not going to beg for it”, Kaiba finally responded through gritted teeth.

As Kaiba leaned forward, he did not even blink, and something about his entirely ungraceful attempt at pressing their lips together kept Jounouchi strangely hooked.

Kaiba was not playing with him. Kaiba was desperate.

It must have been the adrenaline from the fight, or something about Kaiba’s sudden vulnerability, but Jounouchi found it hard to resist. Without another thought, Jounouchi grabbed Kaiba’s neck so he could kiss him back, hard and unceremoniously. Kaiba’s fingers were tugging at his jacket to keep him steady and Jounouchi tasted nothing but blood on Kaiba’s lips, but it was less sickening than it should have been. Before Jounouchi could figure out what exactly he was going for here, Kaiba grabbed his wrist with an impatient grunt to put Jounouchi’s hand on his throat again, and for a moment, Jounouchi took that invitation, forcefully pressing him down on the table. Kaiba’s pulse was thick beneath his fingers and he felt the Adam’s apple move under his grip as Kaiba struggled for breath, his hips jerking against Jounouchi’s crotch. There was something undeniable hot about that sight, the sensation of Kaiba’s life, his entire spiteful, smug existence, right in Jounouchi's hands while Kaiba was so obviously turned on by being choked violently, and the sound of those gagged moans - it was enough to make Jounouchi gasp with arousal.

Still, Kaiba getting all that he wanted did not sit right with him, and he was not so keen on finding out where it would take them. Kaiba’s façade had been torn away to reveal something entirely wretched, and Jounouchi did not want to see how deep this rabbit hole went. He released his grip on Kaiba’s throat to grab his wrists instead – so bony and thin, he almost expected them to be brittle enough to break – and held them in place next to Kaiba’s head. Kaiba groaned through gritted teeth, and Jounouchi preferred to keep him like this, all wordless noises and no arrogant drivel. So, he moved his crotch against Kaiba’s and kissed him again, pressing Kaiba’s lithe body onto the table surface with his own weight. It was a sloppy kiss that was probably as awful for Kaiba, who could not breathe through his nose at all, as it was for him, who had to put up with Kaiba’s idea of kissing. When Kaiba bit him especially viciously, Jounouchi had enough of that, and he grabbed Kaiba by the hair to pull his head back, sharp and fast. That seemed to do the trick for Kaiba, at least. There was a soft, strangled noise at the back of Kaiba's throat, and a shudder went through his body, before it went limp. For a moment, Jounouchi thought he’d come, but as he let go of him, Kaiba’s head had started rolling slightly, his gaze strangely unfocused, as if he was almost passing out.

“Kaiba?” Fuck, he hadn’t even hit him that hard, had he? Jounouchi grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him slightly, in hopes that Kaiba was not really out of it yet. “Kaiba!”

It wouldn’t look good if he had to call a doctor now, with Kaiba unconscious, his face bloodied and Jounouchi the only one to blame. Yugi had warned him that messing with Kaiba would only be trouble.

But to his relief, Kaiba was not entirely gone. Maybe it was just exhaustion getting the better of him. Coming to think of it, something had seemed off about him ever since he had entered the room, and Jounouchi had a suspicion it was more than just lack of sleep. Whatever pills he was taking to support his sleep-deprived skin-and-bones lifestyle, he was probably overdoing it.

Suddenly, Kaiba’s eyes opened, his pupils blown wide, but he wasn’t looking at him. Instead, he stared straight past him, his gaze fixated on a spot somewhere beyond the ceiling. It was then that Jounouchi realized Kaiba was mouthing words in a barely audible, frantic whisper.

“Close”, Jounouchi believed to hear him breathe, voicelessly, “so-- close—“

“Kaiba, snap out of it!” Because he didn’t know what else to do, Jounouchi slapped him, hard, and that finally seemed to have an effect.

It took a moment for Kaiba’s gaze to focus and him to resurface from his delusions. Maybe he did have a concussion, Jounouchi thought, as he pulled Kaiba into a sitting position, or maybe all this choking business hadn't been that much of a great idea.

“Hey, can you hear me?”, Jounouchi asked. “Maybe you should call someone to come and get you.” "Don’t give me that”, Kaiba said, his tongue heavy and his voice hoarse, but the disdain still pretty clear in his words. “We both know you don’t care.”

There was something between caring deeply and not wanting someone to pass out on you while they engaged with you in some questionable making out after you almost broke their nose, but Jounouchi did not want to get into that. In fact, he was very much done with this entire situation.

“You need a doctor, Kaiba”, he insisted. “And we’re still locked in here.”

As usual, Kaiba was barely listening. He had put a hand on the bruise marks on his throat, slightly pressing against them, as if he was appraising them.

“Considering your past, I’d have expected worse from you.” Only Kaiba could manage to sound so derisive about someone not properly choking him senseless.

"Yugi would not like it if I broke your ribs and rearranged your face”, Jounouchi said with a shrug. By now, it did barely surprise Jounouchi that Kaiba was obviously stalking them with whatever intel KC probably had, though it did not sit well with him. In any case, that made it easier to see right through Kaiba’s bullshit. It almost made sense now, in as twisted, Kaiba sort of way, even though Jounouchi was not entirely sure what prompted it. “I guess you just have to do it the hard way and get over yourself without someone kicking your ass for you. But that's none of my business." Kaiba frowned at that, but he had to keep himself from keeling over, and Jounouchi did not feel like waiting for a response.

“Listen, Kaiba, now either you call someone yourself or I’ll have to kick the door in and get some employee to patch you up.”

Finally, Kaiba obliged, and to Jounouchi’s relief, Kaiba's favourite sunglasses-wearing assistent came by just moments later to not only make sure Kaiba was taken care of, but also to personally see Jounouchi out.

There were still blood stains on Jounouchi’s shirt, and so it was probably for the better that this way he avoided meeting up with Yugi who was probably already waiting for him. He quickly texted him to tell him not to wait and to promise him they’d meet up tomorrow instead.

On his walk home, Jounouchi did not feel all too peachy, and it wasn’t really because he was worried about Kaiba. Kaiba'd be fine, at least as fine as he could be. It was just that Kaiba had a way of getting under one’s skin. As far as Jounouchi was concerned, Kaiba was nothing but a bully who had too much anger inside of him and was letting it out on anyone, picking fights and making others miserable to make himself feel better. In fact, Jounouchi understood that part all too well. But it was precisely because Jounouchi knew what it was like to hate himself and take his hatred out on others that he did not feel a lot of sympathy.

If there was one thing he’d taken from this, it was that Kaiba seemed to physically need someone to subdue him, in one way or the other, and while Jounouchi did not exactly disagree, he really wasn’t the one to do it.

Even though Kaiba had tried his best to pull him on his level, Jounouchi had changed. Unlike Kaiba, who despite Yugi offering him friendship and support countless of times, still chose to stay a miserable jerk. Jounouchi had taken his chance when he had gotten it, and he had worked hard to become a better person. He was both proud and lucky that he had managed to leave that sort of self-destructive shit behind him, and he'd like for it to stay that way.

*

He still hoped Yugi wouldn’t be too mad with him when he’d have to eventually confess that he had had a run-in with Kaiba, though Jounouchi decided to play down the details. Kaiba would probably appreciate that staying between them, anyway.

But when they hung out after school at Yugi’s place to learn, which actually meant they’d spent most of the time playing video games and talking, it was not Kaiba Yugi seemed most concerned about.

“It was no big deal”, Jounouchi said with a shrug. “I roughed him up a little, that’s all.”

It was only when he noticed Yugi’s eyes were fixed on his lips that Jounouchi realized they had to be pretty torn and bruised.

“Seems like he roughed you up quite a bit, too”, Yugi noted, but there was something in his voice that made Jounouchi feel strangely and unexpectedly guilty all of a sudden.

“Yugi, I- I’m not gonna do any of that again, believe me.” He really meant it. Now that he’d seen more of Kaiba’s issues that he’d ever cared to, Jounouchi was really not very keen on having any more of that.

To his relief, Yugi smiled, even though he seemed a bit confused by Jounouchi’s stammering reaction.

“Good", Yugi said, but then hurried to clarify, "I mean, I do think that’s for the better, but you really don’t have to justify yourself to me.” He paused, looking away and biting his lip, uncertain. “It’s just-“

“You know what I was thinking about the other day?” Without waiting for Yugi to answer, Jounouchi pulled him closer by wrapping his free arm around his shoulders, maybe embracing him a bit too tightly as he held him close. “Just how lucky I am to know you", he declared with a grin.

“Jounouchi, that hurts”, Yugi interjected, but as Jounouchi released him, he looked up to him with a smile. Jounouchi felt his cheeks heat under Yugi’s gaze, and he quickly turned to face the screen again and pick up the controller.

“Hey, we’ve still got a final round to play, I almost forgot about that!”

“Alright, you’re on!”, Yugi said, immediately all set and ready, but before he pressed start, his eyes were on Jounouchi again. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he reached out to put his hand on Jounouchi’s, squeezing it in a way that made Jounouchi’s heart skip a beat.

“I’m really happy that I know you, too.”

Jounouchi beamed right back at him, a warmth spreading inside of him that was so familiar to him now but that he'd never take for granted.