#okay goodbye guess I’ll continue to be ‘normal’ about this yuri then

[crystalisedtem]

I cannot concentrate on this lecture because all I can think about is Scarlett, and a new idea popped into my head about Bree painting her nails blue… I CAN’T KEEP DOING THIS OH MY GOSH

[arohawrites]

𝔇𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔰

Gᴇɴʀᴇ﹕ Dᴇᴍᴏɴ AU﹐ ᴀɴɢsᴛ

Tʀɪɢɢᴇʀ Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ﹕ Mᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ﹐ ɢʀɪᴇғ, Lɪɢʜᴛ sᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ.

Wᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ﹕ 2𝚔

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟷 || 𝟸 || 𝟹 || 𝟺 || 𝟻 || 𝟼 || Mᴏᴏᴅʙᴏᴀʀᴅs ||

The wake is over and the funeral is quickly held. Some of Sanha’s classmates are present and most are his parents’ colleagues. He tried hard to memorize each faces that came to his parents wake so he knew that there are few people whom he didn’t see in the wake.

“I would avenge you no matter what” Sanha mumbled as he offers flowers for both his parents. People are wondering why the only son doesn’t look sad, he doesn’t even look grieving, but they keep it to themselves.

The ceremony ended and people are starting to disperse after saying goodbye to Sanha. One group approached him, the group are not familiar to him.

“We’re in the same team as your parents and Donghyuk” The only woman in the group introduced and Sanha’s attention is quickly piqued.

Sanha observed each person in the group. The woman who approached him looks a bit younger than her mother. Her short hair made her look more sophisticated and her smile is quite intimidating.

“I’m Lee Nari, this kid is Im Eugene-” The kid Nari called quickly protested “-I’m not a kid!” He spoke in English, Sanha already noticed that he has foreign blood.

“Whatever, this is Noh Taemin. He only looked smug but he’s just shy,” Sanha did a small bow for courtesy, “We’re sorry that we didn’t make it through the wake. We still finished some business overseas.” The woman explained.

“It’s okay” Sanha simply answered, his eyes are wandering discreetly. He saw JinJin nearby.

“Here’s my number, call me anytime. I know it’s hard, we also lost good friends. Yuri Unni is like my sister, she helps me in everything. She always talk about you too so I know that you’re a nice child” Nari said, he can also see the pain in everyone’s eyes. It’s either genuine or a very good acting. He reminded himself.

“We’ll be going now. Remember, you’re always welcome in the company.” Eugene said and the whole group bid its farewell.

“They look suspicious… That’s written on your face. You should learn to hide your emotions a bit Sanha” JinJin appeared beside him.

Sanha glared at him, “Give me that flash drive”

“Let me eat first, I’m starving” The demon insisted.

“Sanha” They heard a low voice from behind. The demon sighed, he forgot about the kid’s best friend.

“I’m going now” JinJin patted Sanha’s shoulder, the younger tried hard to hide his repugnance, just for the sake of Minhyuk not asking any questions.

“Sanha, we’re going now. Should we drop you off to your house?” Minhyuk promptly offered after Jinwoo walked away. Minhyuk wanted to stay as long as possible with Sanha, he wanted to help his friend in any way he could do.

“Thank you for the offer Minyuk, I really appreciate it but I wanted to stay here longer,” He lied, he wanted to get away as soon as possible but he can’t be with Minhyuk now that he has a demon to handle, “are you sure? Then should I stay here with you?” Minhyuk insisted.

“No! I mean, you must be tired. You’ve been accompanying me for days, please don’t worry about me” Sanha wished that Minhyuk wasn’t offended. He simply doesn’t want Minhyuk to get involved in the mess he entered.

Minhyuk’s dad approached them and motioned Minhyuk to go with him. He assumes that Sanha just wanted to be alone for the moment.

“Contact me anytime, okay?” was Minhyuk’s last words before leaving Sanha.

Sanha stood there, all alone.

–

“Do you feed on sadness too?” Sanha asked the demon embracing him, people must be wondering why he didn’t shed a tear earlier. He wonders why too.

“I don’t feed on pure sadness. I can’t” JinJin answered after a few moment.

“Then why do I feel so empty? I should be crying right now right? My parents are dead, they are no longer coming back. Am I bad child?” Sanha murmured; familiar emotions are flooding his system.

The demon lets go after satiating his endless hunger, “don’t ask me with such trivial questions. I’m a demon, not your emotional supervisor or something” Sanha heaved a deep sigh.

Tears trickled down his cheeks but he quickly wiped it away, “I hate you” Sanha mumbled without much weight. He said it to JinJin numerous times already ever since they started the contract.

“Do you think I even care?” JinJin answered with boredom in his tone, “I’ll come back when you’re sane enough to handle your problems” Sanha picked up a pillow and threw it to JinJin but he already disappeared and the pillow hit the door of his room.

“What’s with that outfit?” Sanha grimaced. Jinwoo is wearing an oversized sweater, pants and large eyeglasses. Jinwoo puts down the laptop bag he’s holding at Sanha’s study table and quickly retaliated, “You don’t have any fashion sense in you so don’t you dare critique my outfit.”

“I hate you, I hate myself, I hate everything” He collapsed on his bed, mumbling the same words over and over until consciousness slipped away from his system.

–

Jinwoo held out a laptop and sat beside Sanha. He still wonders where the demon gets all of his things but he’s too tired to even ask.

“Let’s check the flash drive now” JinJin mumbled and plugged the flash drive, “I have my own laptop you know” Sanha mumbled.

“Idiot, do you think they don’t have any security measures installed in their devices? Plug this in your laptop and they would know by seconds who stole this flash drive. Good luck on explaining how the hell you manage to steal it in the first place” Sanha didn’t answer anymore as the demon had a point.

JinJin started opening the files in the flash drive, Sanha’s eyes widened when the screen showed a glitch. The demon started typing fast and one last click then the screen went to normal.

“Where and when did you learn all of that?” Sanha asked. His mouth is slightly open in wonder.

“How do you think we are able to survive through the years? Of course we need to cope with humans” JinJin answered in a smug tone and fixed his glasses like some genius (a nerd, Sanha whispered) in a movie.

Name: Lee Nari

“I got the right file” JinJin said and Sanha’s eyes quickly went to the screen again. The only folder in the flash drive composed of the data of the agents in his parents’ group.

Expertise: Stealth

Other information about the woman Sanha met earlier flashed in the screen which he couldn’t catch because JinJin quickly scrolled through the data.

Name: Im Eugene

Expertise: Hacking

“So that kid is a hacker” JinJin mumbled and Sanha swore he saw JinJin’s eyes burned with competition.

Expertise: Combat

Name: Noh Taemin

“Should I also teach you to fight?” JinJin looks at Sanha and was quickly discouraged, “Nah, it’ll take hundred years. I’’ll just handle it myself” The demon didn’t give him time to argue and continued scrolling.

Name: Shin Donghyuk

Expertise: Analyst

Sanha took note of the information he could see about Donghyuk, he’s the most suspicious, he doesn’t have a basis but it’s what his gut feels tell him.

“They’re on the same team until the last mission your parents received before they were ambushed” The demon said, not removing his eyes to the screen.

“You need to get closer to them if you want more information about them but at least you have prior knowledge about that group. Use your brain” JinJin pushed his glasses up and put down the laptop. Sanha was about to retaliate but his phone vibrated.

“Unknown number?” He mumbled, “Let me guess, one of those agents” the demon mused and rested his chin to his knuckles.

“What are you waiting for? Aren’t you going to answer the phone?” Sanha picked up his phone and quickly answered the call.

“Hello, who is this?” Sanha answered with formal tone.

“Sanha, this is Eugene, yesterday, do you remember?”

“Yeah,” he looked at JinJin who’s now wearing his infamous smirk, “Why did you call, and how did you get my number?”

“Your number is listed on your parents’ info and the boss wanted to talk to you, he asked me to fetch you. Can we meet in the nearby café? I’ll just need to get somewhere before picking you up. Is that okay?” he spoke in a fast yet calm manner, Sanha also noticed how hard the agent tried to remove his accent.

Sanha didn’t answer and let Eugene to continue, “I’ll be there exactly 4 pm. Would it be okay?”

“Okay…” Sanha simply answered and looked at JinJin again. The demon smiled, everything seems like an amusing movie for him.

–

“Why do you think I’m being summoned, did they know that we stole the flash drive?” Sanha asked nervously as they walk on their way to the café where he and Eugene are supposed to meet.

“We? It’s only you, child” The demon answered with a bored tone. Sanha continued nagging with obvious panic but JinJin didn’t give any care to Sanha’s sentiments.

“Rui!” Someone shouted. Their eyes went on a child running towards the middle of the road to follow his ball. Sanha’s feet automatically moved to sprint his way to the child but the demon held his hand to stop him.

Sanha can only close his eyes as a rushing truck is about to hit the poor boy. He heard a loud thud, Sanha slowly opened his eyes, expecting a grim accident. Instead, he saw something unusual in front of the truck. It looked like a barrier, a barrier made of feathers.

Sanha later realized that it was Myungjun after he withdrew his wings. The angel used his own wings to cover the child from being hurt.

The driver of the truck is surprised, he is sure that he has hit something but the child is totally unharmed. He went out of the vehicle and checked the child. The mother of the child also rushed towards the child. The place is quickly filled by people, by authorities and other by-passers.

“You don’t need to act like a super hero. The kid has his own protector” JinJin coldly pointed out and let go of Sanha’s hand. He couldn’t help but look at the angel’s magnificent wings.

He felt a familiar pain on his back.

The angel looked at their direction and the demon quickly averted his gaze and disappeared without notice. Sanha on the other hand is still frozen from where he is standing, he hasn’t recovered with what he have witnessed yet.

JinJin materialized in a rooftop of a random building nearby, he hissed in pain. The familiar pain on his back keeps on intensifying.

“Damn” He cussed and bared his own wings, his broken wings.

The only reminder of what he is in the past.

He laughed bitterly, he barely recalls how his own wings used to look like. All he can remember is how he was punished, how his whole body is seared through the holy blue flame.

He only remembers the excruciating pain and how unjust it is when he was banished from the heavens.

“So you’re an exiled” Myungjun spoke and observed the demon’s broken wings. The divine white color of its remaining feathers is now a mixture of blue and black. The angel heard that remnants of the exiled wings are purposely spared as an eternal reminder of their condemned sins.

The demon hid his wings and faced Myungjun. “Remove that pity in your eyes before I gouge it out” The demon threatened but the angel remained unfazed.

“What is the sin that you have committed?” Myungjun asked, somehow feeling sympathetic.

“Hah! I know you’re well aware of the heaven’s rules regarding humans,” the demon stood from where he is situated, “Two grave sins that you shouldn’t commit; to love a human or to kill the same, why choose when I can do both?” The demon grinned as the angel’s expression quickly changed.

The demon gave another annoying laugh and jumped off the rooftop.

“I can’t believe he’s an angel in the past…” Myungjun murmured.

[bad0mens]

Title: Pas de Deux ~ Encore - Finale

Pairings: Fluri

Warnings: Unbeta’edness

Authors’ Notes: This one is the Finale. I will be cross posting the Encores to AO3 and FF.net sometime after Christmas because I apparently never did? This one takes place over a year after the events of Pas de Deux II.

Disclaimer: Tales of Vesperia is the property of Namco Bandai.

The steps were as familiar as an old friend, although his position in this show had changed over the long years that he had been dancing. First, the frenzied and childlike steps of mice, then the stronger steps of the Russian dance, and now, as the Nutcracker himself, a role that required strength and training for it's leaps and bounds and displays. Ever year since he was ten, he had been in the ballet, although the company for which he performed changed, one school to another, this troupe to that, until he came to the Halure troupe. And he had danced here for years now, and expected to until the end of his career, whenever that day came. For now, he would just dance as long as he could, until his feet couldn't do what he loved any more. He tried not to think about it while on stage. His next step was more important. In the spotlight, Yuri could clear his mind and focus only on the dance, only on the stage beneath his feet, his hands around Estelle's waist, ready for the next lift, all poised, all ready. One. Two. Three, Fouette. One two. Leap. One two three lift. Leap. Catch. The music was starting the wind up, reaching the end of the first act, the end of the Waltz of the Snowflakes. His eyes didn't drift to the audience. He already knew that Flynn wasn't there.

The music and the dance reached a fever pitch and drifted out bright and warm, and the curtain fell before them. With an exhale, he lowered Estelle to the stage and felt his body ease. Beyond the curtain, the audience chattered during the intermission, shuffling from their seats. The backstage was in a similar state of disarray, all the dancers heading back stage for the moment of peace between the acts and costume changes, scattering to their dressing rooms.

Yuri took a moment to stretch. There was no need for him to change, so he had the moment to breathe even as the others all milled about in the hallway just outside his door. The knock that came to his door was no surprise.

“It's open,” he called, wiping his brow.

The director opened the door, a phone in one hand. “You've got a call.” The look on her face was placid, but there was something about it he didn't like.

He took the phone, turning away from her. “This is Yuri.”

The other end crackled and a familiar voice boomed through. “Yuri, it's Leblanc”

The pit of his stomach clenched, tight and cold. Suddenly, he couldn't breath, his heart racing. There was something very wrong. He was only waiting to hear what the problem was now.

“What happened?” he croaked.

“Well, Flynn is--” Leblanc stopped himself, a sharp abbreviation to the statement that Yuri knew that he needed to hear. The seconds before the sound of his voice continued felt like eternity. “Was injured on the ice. He's in surgery.”

It was a sanitized version of events. He knew that. He knew that Leblanc was withholding the details form him. He knew that.

“I'll be right there.”

He hung up, cutting Leblanc off from speaking further. He hadn't even bothered to ask which hospital or what room, but he could guess well enough. None of the questions had occurred to him in the moment. There were too many other thoughts screaming in his brain. Shoving the phone back into the director's hand, he retrieved his duffle bag, pulling a pair of jeans over his tights.

“Get Sergei into costume. He can do act two. Make sure that he knows the lifts for the grand pas de deux. He never lifts high enough. I know that he practiced it.”

She thankfully didn't question. “Be careful on the roads. It's supposed to start snowing.”

A grunt was the only response he gave her as he yanked on his shoes on his way out the door.

Thankfully, there was a taxi waiting outside, probably preparing for the flood of people who'd be leaving the show in an hour. Yuri didn't curse his luck, and slid in to the back seat.

“Zaphias Memorial, as quick as you can.”

With all the quickness and dodgy driving skills in the world, the cabbie hit the road, burning rubber as he turned away from the theater and started toward the city's biggest hospital.  It wasn't a long drive, but Yuri was all nerves and impatience, so wound up that he felt the twinge of pain in his limbs from work only distantly. The lights of the city blurred around him, patches of light and dark and sparkling decorations all melting against his burning brain. The hum of a Christmas song reached his ears, soft and tinny, and he tried to focus on anything but the worry tearing him apart inside. It didn't work. He still only thought of Flynn.

Finally, he arrived at the hospital, rushing from the cab and handing the driver more than he knew was necessary for the short drive. He didn't care. He had only one goal and it was through the bright, glass hospital doors. He met a woman at the front desk, possibly a nurse for the scrubs that she wore and he didn't realize until he spoke that he had been holding his breath.

“Flynn Scifo.”

“I'm sorry, but--”

“Probably emergency room, hockey player. In surgery.”

“Yuri, over here!”

Across the room, Hatchett caught his attention, waving one arm. Leblanc was with him and Yuri immediately joined them.

“He's just come out of surgery.”

“What happened?” When Yuri asked this time, he was asking for the truth, and he was sure that Leblanc knew that, because he got an honest reply this time.

“There was a fight on the ice, and Flynn tried to break it up. He got knocked down and got his neck cut bad.”

Even though Yuri had been on the stage at the moment it happened, he could almost see that moment in time, the cascade of red soaking the front of Flynn's jersey, the panic in his face, in the faces in the crowd. The image burned in his brain, unshakable.

“I want to see him.”

They showed him the way up a number of levels to the another ward, all sterile and white. The hall they walked felt endless, room after room, one station after another, doctors and nursing bustling about, but they cut through them. And finally, they turned into a room off the hall, cordoned off by nothing more than a filmy curtain. It flapped down behind them, giving them only the smallest privacy from the busy hallway outside, but to Yuri's ears, all the other noise disappeared.

Flynn lay in the hospital bed, pale and haggard and bandaged, body lax from sedatives and hooked into a number of steadily beeping machines. He was breathing, the slow and even rise and fall of his chest gave Yuri the tiniest sense of comfort. Before he could even realize it, he was moving to Flynn's side.

“The doctor said he came out of surgery okay. It might be a while before he wakes up though,” Hachette explained. Leblanc seemed unable to speak, merely staring at Flynn.

Yuri could only nod, his lips sealed shut, holding in everything that he wanted to say in the moment. He flinched when Hachette's hand clamped down on his shoulder, turning to look at him.

“He's going to be okay.”

“We told the nurse that you would be here soon,” Leblanc added.

“Thanks,” he started, “For calling me.”

He turned back to Flynn, putting his numb hand on the rail of the bed. Distantly, he could hear the two of them shuffle nervously behind him, and then a whisper telling him that they would be back in a moment. They left through the curtain and Yuri was suddenly aware of the cold and quiet that surrounded him, only broken by the hum of medical machinery. He forced himself to breathe, a task that, in the moment, felt like a chore rather than a necessity. It was a tense moment before he could pull himself away enough to drag a nearby chair up the bedside. Finally, he reached out for Flynn, one hand falling on top of warm, lax flesh. It was a relief, a reminder that Flynn was real and solid and here, even if he slumbered under anesthetics. It was a tiny comfort in this cold moment, but Yuri needed it all the same. He took another gulp of air and scrubbed at his burning eyes.

By the time Leblanc and Hachette returned, he had calmed, his breathing something resembling normal. They had a paper cup of hot coffee for him that he accepted with a quiet nod. The waiting came next. He didn't know how long it would be, but he was prepared to wait as long as it would take, one hand on Flynn's if only to assure himself that warmth still lingered there.

Minutes whiled away and became and hour, and then another, and another still. Nurses came and went, paying them little mind in their work. It was late. Yuri could tell without looking at his phone that the show had long ended and midnight was approaching. His mouth was dry and voice nothing more than a quiet croak.

“I'll stay here for the night. You should both go get some rest. And let the rest of the team know what's happening.”

“Are you sure, Yuri?” Hachette asked, brow knitted with concern.

“Yeah. I'll let you know when he wakes up.”

They hesitated.

“It's fine. Really.”

Finally, they relented, saying their goodbyes and offering quiet condolences and promises of returning in the morning before shuffling quietly back out and leaving Yuri alone in the silent room, the only tether keeping him within his own paper thin skin was the warmth of Flynn's hand.

Time inched by in the lonesome quiet of the room. He texted Estelle, but knew that it was late, so he might not receive a reply until morning. He should have reached out to her sooner, and felt guilty about that. She would chastise him about not telling her, about not sharing the bad news during the intermission, but he couldn't pull her out of the performance. The Nutcracker was replaceable, Clara was not. It was something he would have to deal with later.

For now, what he was going through was all the worse. The uncomfortable silence, the fragile stillness, the uneasy churning of his insides. Flynn was probably fine. He was strong and would heal quickly, although it would be some time before he could get back on the ice. The bandages that wound around his next cemented that for him. It wasn't like he hadn't been injured during a game before, but something like this could bench him for a long time depending on the severity. Maybe even years. Yuri had always figured such an injury would put himself out of commission, would rob him of the ability to dance, but even with the violence that happened on the ice, part of him had never considered that such a thing might happen to Flynn. It didn't feel real.

Almost two years ago, he wouldn't have imagined himself here, sitting by a hospital bed, waiting, hardly able to breath, while Flynn slumbered under anesthesia. That single meeting at the gym at day had brought him here, through moments both good and bad, sad and frustrating and blissful, moments that made Yuri feel more whole human than he had in a long time. The feelings that came with being with Flynn were conflicting and painful, but maybe it was better that he was feeling them, that he was dealing with them rather than carrying their burden quietly. Flynn brought his problems out in the open, but had accepted them, recognized that they were not things easily fixed with simple words and actions, but that they needed time and attention and patience. And Yuri was now in a place he had never expected, with someone he felt something for like he hadn't in a long time. Other people had come and gone in his life, passing through and nothing more, but Flynn had stayed. And now, Yuri knew something about himself. Something that he had figured out months before. He wasn't going anywhere either. For better or for worse, he was in this for the long haul.

There was no rest for him, but the flinch of Flynn's fingers under his own brought him out of his thoughts and back to the reality of the situation.

Flynn drew a raspy breath and his eyes opened, tired and glassy.

“Hey,” Yuri said, mouth dry. His grip on Flynn's hand tightened, meant to reassure them both.

“Yuri.” Flynn's voice was a rough and quiet croak, but he was relieved to hear it all the same.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“You should rest. You've had a rough night.”

“I had a dream.”

“Get some sleep.”

“You were on stage... dancing the Nutcracker. That dance you do right at the end... the grand pas de deux. I don't know why... but that music sounded so sad.”

“Flynn.”

“And then... the stage was empty. You were gone.”

A knot of pain stopped up his throat, barring out his words so he was forced to think, so many hot and desperate thoughts that all lead back to one fact. The one fact that Yuri had realized long before and had only verbalized once and only because Flynn was heavily sedated.

Yuri reached over and wiped the water from the edge of Flynn's eyes, drawing a deep breath. His hand carded up, pushing Flynn's hair out of his eyes, glassy with pain and sedatives. He needed to say it. He needed to say it out loud to Flynn, to tell him that this was serious for him. It wasn't simply some extended casual relationship for him. He was long ago much more invested than he would have ever admitted. He couldn't say the three words that he knew Flynn wanted to hear, that Flynn told him every day and were the truth, but that didn't mean there was no way to ease his fears.

“You don't have to worry about that.” He swallowed back all his apprehensions, all the fears that he could. There was no changing his past, but he and Flynn had a chance at the future together. Maybe he could continue to heal with time. Maybe one day he could say what he truly felt for Flynn in simple and honest words without them threatening to burn him alive. For now, he hoped that this much would do. For now, this was all that he had. “I'm not going anywhere. Ever.”

Flynn took another ragged breath, this one filled with a relief unburdened by physical pain.

“Get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Okay.” He was already half asleep when he slurred his replied. It was only a moment more before sleep claimed him completely.

“I'm here for good.” It was something of a relief to be able to admit it to himself. Maybe he was damning himself to a world of more pain, but it was too late. He was here, and he was here to stay.