#(apparently my solution is to just call it dark? I guess? is that the correct solution? IDK!! :D)

[paradife-loft]

In the blood orange sky

Well. Does anybody remember a couple months ago when I made this post? Because apparently I’ve been thinking about it a fair bit.

And also thinking about... maybe doing a thing? A thing that involves writing various vignettes as I’m moved to, very low pressure, but all in the same continuity, about sequences of various events that are related to one another and a central premise...? So kind of maybe like a “multi-chapter fic” as they call them, but y’know. No particular goals for “finishing” something, or requiring they be in chronological order or any other strict structure binding them together. Just exploring things for fun, and I’ll see where it goes!

But yes, so, I have written a bit this week that I think does what I would like for a first portion of something like this, and... here it is!

1.4k words, Xiyao, post-canon, dark-ish mystery/intrigue/character and relationship exploration I guess?; warnings for injury and general unpleasant body stuff, and also unpleasant mental health stuff, and also discussed off-screen (mass) murder.

*

When he comes to this time, he is sitting - propped up in the gentle rays of early sun against something he can vaguely identify as soft, with enough give to cradle his shoulders. That alone is a departure from each time previous… and Jin Guangyao supposes he ought to be thankful he continues to wake up at all; that his condition upon doing so this one time at least is no longer face-down, body practically smeared into the dirt.

An unpleasant prickling in one of his legs prompts him to open his eyes again, lift his head from where it’d fallen back against a pillow. His neck throbs with the motion. He sees a pair of hands - familiar enough that the distortions between his sight now and his memories cannot help but unsettle him - moving steadily with needle and thread through a deep rent in his left calf.

Ah. That would explain that particular discomfort, then.

Viewing the sight on top of feeling the muted, distant sensation it evokes, gives him the perverse and contrarian instinct to kick out and abort the effort of cleaning him up as it’s only partway done - but he recognises well enough that it would be a waste, and even now he isn’t so far gone as that. And he doesn’t want his leg to remain ruined. And to repair it himself now would be… possible, but far more difficult.

All arguments he has to pull out in front of his mind’s eye, like a text one might recite, to convince himself not to protest this time; but he does hold himself still, does remain for the time being a silent, compliant patient.

(Not entirely still, he must admit: his eyes follow the tiny shifts in those hands, trying to reconcile the absence of both manicured care, and the unique pattern of callused ridges he had memorised once upon a time. And yet more important, more incorrect when compared to the state he is familiar with: Lan Xichen has never known how to sew.)

(And yet. And yet.)

He presses his lips together as Xichen approaches the completion of the task, drawing the words he resents needing to speak up like pitchers of water from a drying well. They crowd his tongue, sour the inside of his mouth.

"I take it you found me quickly this time, after your target was done with me?"

Lan Xichen starts when he hears his voice, head jumping up and eyes round. Jin Guangyao had not taken him to be so absorbed that he hadn't even noticed him waking, but -

(He should have, perhaps.)

Xichen's expression hardens into something resigned after that, the dam holding back a great dredged mass of displeasure. Pain and anger in a hundred or more shades, silt and loam and sand.

"You tore apart the gravesites of three prominent clans, scattering the bones, and then did the same with the bodies of their living families when they came to drive out the robbers who defiled their ancestors' remains. The entire village has been terrified since last night. The news was not difficult to follow."

Jin Guangyao resists the urge to close his eyes, staring down the spray of blood to his face with the same dispassion he once used to with regularity. He is out of practise, however: he can't stop the reflexive flinch in his mouth, or his one remaining hand. It curls stiffly in the blankets pushed to one side of the bed pallet.

It’s not that he hadn't expected something along these lines, from the moment he’d woken up and taken in his surroundings. He hadn’t particularly relished the anticipation of hearing it, and so allowed himself a few moments watching Lan Xichen work in silence before disturbing him, it’s true - but he regrets the pain and exhaustion on Xichen's face and in the set of his shoulders and limbs more than he cares to spend his sympathy on another (inevitable) group of dead strangers.

He glances down at the long column of stitches holding the greying flesh of his leg together around the bone, and wonders which hapless, doomed villager from this new feat of resentful destruction had managed to inflict the injury.

"So it didn't require all that much searching, then. Nobody was angry with you, stealing away with the corpse that had killed all those people instead of burning it?"

"Not enough to express it to me. I imagine it helped that I spent several hours in the interim helping right the disturbed graves, and set wards around several of the neighboring houses," Xichen replies. Stress still lines his eyes, flickering more prominent like a candle flame as he speaks. Reconstructing the sequence of events implied, Jin Guangyao feels a twinge of - something - surprise, or hurt? he can't quite say - that Xichen had apparently seen fit this time to seal him away and then leave him, presumably alone, for some significant time afterward, while he tended to the village. Even though it was presumably an effective distraction, not to mention well-deserved.

"I was intending on returning this afternoon, to add more wards to some of the other houses, and suppress any other spirits roused in the process,” Xichen adds. Half an afterthought, half an explanation.

The emotion, whatever it is, crystallizes into a spike of irritation. "Temporary wards aren't going to be enough to turn away a determined corpse-raiser of this strength if he has unfinished vendettas against anybody left there," replies Jin Guangyao, snappish.

Lan Xichen’s lips thin. "I would still prefer to comfort some of their fears, however unrealistically, in the time before the problem has been solved, than leave them with no help or explanation at all after such a loss."

Jin Guangyao knows this. Agrees with it, even; it had been one of many principles they shared in the nighthunts they used to investigate. If Lan Xichen is frustrated at having to reiterate such a thing to him specifically, rather than in general, it doesn't show amidst everything else on his face.

He does stand though, turning away from the bed, tucking the medical supplies he’d been using back into their pouch and going to check on an iron kettle perched over a fire.

“Where are we?” Jin Guangyao asks, preferring the abrupt change of subject to a continuation of the prior topic. Xichen glances back at him - not for long.

“The abandoned house of one of the walking corpses I suppressed a few months ago,” he replies. He pours hot water into a skin, tying it off, and then another steaming portion into a tea pot - drab by Gusu Lan standards, but still likely worth more than the entire roof they’re under. “Don’t get up on that leg yet; you’ll split it open.”

Silence clouds between them, as Jin Guangyao stops shifting his way toward the edge of the bed pallet and lets the leg stretch out in front of him, holding back his weight against his arm. His fingers itch.

He’s asked Lan Xichen before, how long he’s been living like this, although not in those terms; and Lan Xichen has responded only with obvious deflections, despite giving perfectly cogent answers to less savory questions, such as how he’s managed to take a room at an inn with a resentment-spilling corpse in tow. There are many people in need with no one else to turn to throughout the countryside. A simple glamour works well enough when neither the inkeep nor other patrons are cultivators. Spending nights at the house left abandoned after a prior nighthunt certainly sidesteps the minor inconveniences of the latter, but leaves him even less sanguine about the former.

Would you rather neither of you were here at all, and in all likelihood even more people were dead? his own mind poses snidely, while he sits and watches Lan Xichen putting the hot compress over his lower leg, manually drawing up the blood in his body toward the region. He sips the cup of medicinal brew pressed into his hands, despite strong doubt in its capacity to do anything now for him in particular.

When he can acutely feel the spiritual energy circulating through his through him - pushed by Xichen’s intent and core, urging tissue to repair itself in the same way it would in a living body - Jin Guangyao finally admits the need to push on the issue of what they both have surely understood by now.

“I need to come with when you leave,” he says. He doesn’t make it a suggestion.

Lan Xichen closes his eyes, and Jin Guangyao’s still heart seems to squeeze like a vise. Go back to Gusu! he wants to yell; fuck the villagers, and fuck whatever further bloody deaths he won’t be conscious enough to care about causing.

Lan Xichen only nods, like it pains him. “Yes. I suppose you do.”

[scribblingfangirl]

WITH LOVE, THE GHOSTS | Julie and The Phantoms - Part Two

not my gif!

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Author’s Note: Somebody on Wattpad asked if they could get ‘a part two where she like meets them and they still do kind stuff?’ I really liked that idea, so this little part is a filler (their meeting) so that I can fullfill the request in a third and final part. Enjoy! :D

word count: ~ 1.4k

summary: You finally meet the boys. Obviously, chaos ensues.

warnings:  // (english is not my first language, not beta-read)

| Part One | Part Three |

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You knew that Julie wouldn’t judge you, not after the year she had. But honestly, after hearing that Flynn was almost going to egg her house after finding out about the Swedish hologram boys you were very inclined to just shake your head and forget about it all. Even if the note from Reggie, Alex and Thing Three had been burning a hole into your pocket.

Needless to say that it had been a very weird winter break. But you were still kind of disappointed when nothing happened on New Year.

Nevertheless, you closed your locker and turned around to look at Julie and Flynn while they approached you. “Does a flying pen called Reggie and a computer that suddenly decides to cheer me up called Alex and a third something, temporarily called Chicken Scratch, do as well?” you asked and took the note out of your pocket, hoping it would come out as comedically rather than insane.

At first, nothing happened and Julie and Flynn just stared at you. Then Julie ripped the little paper out of your hand and quickly unfolded it.

Almost afraid you smiled at them nervously when they looked back up at you, expecting everything and yet nothing at the same time. Which is why you weren’t quite sure what to make from Julie and Flynn’s reaction. Sighing they both looked at each other and whisper-shouted: “Reggie!”

“Reggie… as in the pen? You’re calling my pen?” Bewildered, you looked at your two best friends. Okay so maybe they did think you’ve lost it. ‘Retreat, retreat! Make a final joke about it and let it slide!’ “ I think you kind of forgot the magic word ‘Accio’ beforehand. Accio Reggie, you know? And don’t forget to swish and flick it guys or else it might blow up in your face,” you giggled nervously. ‘Nope, that wasn’t it.’

But instead of going into it, Julie suddenly seemed busy staring angrily at a locker just to their right and making weird eyebrow movements towards it, while Flynn just swung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you with her.

“I think it’s time that we, or rather Julie, told you something. But, first things first, you know that egging your best friends house isn’t the solution, right?”

-

Correction: They lost it. Not you, they! Ghosts. Forking 90s ghosts they said.

Because apparently Reggie, Alex and Luke (not Who or Thing Three - just a ghost with a very terrible handwriting, Flynn couldn’t stop giggling and said something about the Fat Ones?) were exactly that - forking 90s ghosts. You almost snorted into your cereal and inhaled the milk when Julie told you that after arriving home from school.

“Sure. Ghosts are wishing me a Merry Christmas. What’s next? Did I miss Michael Jackson wishing me a Happy New Year and will Elvis Presley be serenading me on Valentine’s Day?”

“Wait... Michael Jackson died?! When? Ah damn... I barely had time to listen to his 9nth album before we died!”

“Dude... First Star Wars, now this? What exactly are you doing when we aren’t rehearsing?”

“Not screaming in a museum, but I did say dibs on the shower… the rubber duckies are just too cute to ignore!”

“You use them in a bath Reggie, not the shower!”

Obviously, you couldn’t hear them but you did see the eye-roll Julie gave the thin air before turning back to you. “Sorry to disappoint but no. Michael and Elvis are dead.”

Silence fell upon you three six.

Ending the silence by eating your (crunchy) cereal, you swallowed and said, “Yeah fun fact, the adjective dead literally appears in the definition of ghosts. That’s kind of what makes them ghosts. Being dead. So… what makes your buddies so special?”

Silence. Again. (Well, for you. Julie was listening to two ghosts chasing each other around the kitchen ‘STOP IT REGINALD!’ while the third one was sitting by your side, face in his hands, eyeing your cereal wistfully and sighing.)

Taking a deep breath Julie pushed her hands away from her body. “We don’t know. But we would like to show you. So... Boys, Garage. Now! Girls, Garage. Please,” she said, waving her hand to the backdoor.

Opening the garage door a few moments later and gesturing at the couch and chairs Julie said, “Please sit down. The band will be with us shortly.”

“Uh!”, you said excited, clapping your hands. Might as well go along with it. Worst case scenario? All three of you will go visit Dr. Turner. Best case scenario? Well… best case scenario the boys ghosts are real and you will be sleeping with one eye open from now on. But honestly, how bad can that be? They have a good taste in Christmas music after all. “What are we going to hear? Panic! At the Disco? Taylor Swift?”

“No no no. They only do originals. Now come on, Mama needs her eye candy. Oh, and watch it. Reggie needs space to rock out,” Flynn told you as she guided you to the couch.

“Look at that! She listens and learns!” Julie giggled and sat behind the keyboard. “Let’s do it the old fashioned way. Y/N, this is Flying Solo.”

-

Well, they were real. Or as real as ghosts can be.

“Yeah… quick question. Why am I always the one who gets probed?” the dark-haired bassist asked after your hand passed through his shoulder.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I should have asked first.”

“Ah don’t worry. It was nice actually. Now I know that you have a kind heart.”

The shaggy-haired guitarist snorted, accidentally strumming his guitar a little too hard. “And an endless black pit as a stomach.”

“And you know that why?” Julie asked with her hands crossed in front of her chest.

“He watches her eat the sandwiches he makes for her. He finds it cute when she giggles at the Nutella faces he paints onto them," the bassist answered for the guitarist.

“You make her sandwiches… with Nutella faces?! Why don’t I get those?!” "You watch me while I eat?!" Julie and you screamed out at the same time.

“Chill out you both! You," Flynn said pointing at you, "get free food! But watch it, they did die by eating poisoned hot dogs, so don't trust them entirely. And you!" She moved over to Julie, "You get eye candy 24/7! I should be the one to complain! I don’t get anything and I am your manager!”

Blushing the brown-haired boy averted his eyes and muttered, “I don’t remember agreeing to that." (Because of course that would be the point he would focus on.) "You booked us a school dance after all!” Feeling and then seeing their indignant looks he quickly retreated. “Which we are still very, very sorry for missing out on! A… and and the band name you came up with is really great Flynn!”

Throwing her hair back and squinting her eyes, Flynn gave him a joking glare. “You pass. Barely. I’m still watching you.”

“Okaaaay so, judging by your looks and your attitude I’d say… you're Chicken Scratch, right?”

“HEY!” And then more quietly, “My name’s Luke.”

You nodded. “You deserve it. So, Luke, I guess it's nice to meet you.”

“So today is ‘Make fun of Luke’-day?”

“Oh… that’s only today? Sorry, I must’ve missed that memo. I thought that was every day.”

You giggled and turned to the drummer who had just spoken. “Alex, right?”

The blond guy nodded smirking while continuing to quietly drum.

“Then you must be Reggie!” you smiled at the bassist again. “I heard Kayla talk about you to Carrie on a few occasions.”

As he dropped his bass the last thing you saw or heard from Reggie was an excited, “Girls talk about me? Take that Alex!” Then he puffed out of existence.

“Reggie, you do realize that my ‘they can’t tip what they can’t see’ statement still applies here, right?” Alex said sighing and mouthed, “I’m sorry” in your direction, before flinching and puffing out of existence as well.

“They don’t have to tip me, Alex, they just have to like me!” Luke imitated Reggie sarcastically, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows while eyeing the thin air.

“Wow! Watch it!”

But Julie’s warning came too late. With a ‘whooosh’ and followed by a dull pain one of Alex’s drumsticks flew through the air and hit your head. “Ow!”

“Oi boys! Stop it!” And with that Luke vanished as well.

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #14

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Santa Invasion

“What’s this?”

“Ice cream.”

“Well, I can tell that much just by looking, but...”

“To be precise, it is an ice cream cake.”

A gigantic ladybug was sitting on the low table. Its vivid red and dark brown-like black shades were definitely berries and chocolate. The back was decorated with flowers like marguerite. It was adorable. And huge. It was a hemispherical cake that looked like a basket ball cut in half, the name of a store from Dogenzaka printed on its box. It was 7PM. The last customer had left, I was done with the cleaning and all we had left to do was closing the store. It was still the second week of December, so the mayhem of making provisions for winter presents was a few ways ahead, but the number of clients was increasing little by little.

Just what on earth would this beautiful jeweler come up in such times?

Due to a habit of his from whenever he had something that was hard to say aloud and thus failed to speak up, Mr. Richard Ranashinghe de Vulpian had a serious crease forming just slightly between his brows. It made me feel at ease. This guy didn’t make a face like this when he was burdened with something that was actually difficult to say. He would speak more bland and expressionlessly instead.

“This is a little souvenir.”

“Are you going to a customer’s place after this?”

Richard’s reply was a gentle “no” in English.

He’d been often speaking a mix of Japanese and English lately. When English-speaking customers came by, he would switch completely to English as if for practical assessment, so I was desperate just to keep up with listening to them. I was grateful for having him as my English conversation teacher.

“A certain good-for-nothing who works with finances is currently in Japan, so...”

“Ah, Jeffrey-san, is it? He seemed so busy last time... Sorry, forget what I just said.”

“No need. That is a correct interpretation, so it is nothing to apologize about.”

Despite saying this, Richard’s facial expression did not seem even remotely satisfied as he swiftly took an indigo envelope out of his pocket. It had no seal, so it must have been handed over to him. The content was a pop-out card, and under a paper-craft cake colored with gold leaves and uneven printing, it was written in very tasteful Japanese: “I’m going to hold a party at the hotel, so come over. I’ll be waiting.” The date of the party was today and the place was the room of a luxury hotel in Tokyo. A home party? No, a hotel party.

The title was “Richard’s birthday party”. The plate of the pop-up cake didn’t say “Merry Christmas”. It said “Happy Birthday”.

Christmas Eve on the 24th was this beautiful shopkeeper’s birthday.

As I returned the card to him, a crease once again formed between Richard’s brows as he said with an unsparingly decisive tone, “How very embarrassing.”

“Doesn’t seem so much like it from your face.”

“Because I practiced making it. But this is extremely embarrassing. I think it is not something that warrants going through the trouble of arranging a plane ticket.”

“I wonder if anyone else will be going.”

“It seems Chieko will attend. I received an e-mail yesterday saying, ‘I am going to show up as a surprise so please take care of me’.”

“Is that even a surprise? Well, okay.”

Chieko-san was Richard and Jeffrey’s private tutor in the past and I was acquainted with her to some degree. I wondered if Homura-san, who had married her daughter, was also coming. No, not happening. He was a customer of Etranger, so Richard would probably feel abashed if he did so.

“If it goes on like this, the people lying in wait in that room will just gang up into an assembly to celebrate me.”

“What even is ‘ganging up to celebrate’?”

“They are ganging up on me. I likely will not be able to say anything other than ‘thank you very much’. I need reinforcements. If you would like, could you come with me?”

“Me too? That okay?”

“Of course. The party starts at 8PM probably because it coincides with Etranger’s closing hours. That British safe-like man is not narrow-minded enough to leave you out.”

It was written there that the party would begin at 8PM. We had 30 minutes. There was no spare time to make a pudding. What to do? What should I do?

Richard was apparently unable to let my groaning an “ngh, ngh” while deep in thought go unnoticed. “If it is impossible for you, just say so right away. I know that you are at the final stage of studying for your exams.”

“That doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you tell me a bit earlier about this? If I knew, I could’ve made preparations for it... Aah, is that why?”

“It is. I recall saying that you should refrain from being overly distracted.”

“I don’t think a ‘celebration’ is ‘overly distracting’, though.”

“Anything is fine, so please answer. Will you come or not?”

He didn’t have to go as far as asking me something like that.

I bowed in a way that wouldn’t cause any hairs to fall onto the ice cream ladybug. “I shall humbly accompany you.”

“Very well.”

“Sorry, but before that, I gotta go to the toilet for a bit.”

I hastily rushed to Etranger’s restroom and unlocked my phone in a flash. I then tapped on the e-mail app. Of course, the destination could only be one person.

“Help. I’m sorry but I just got informed about the birthday party, so I have no present.”

Jeffrey-san.

The contents of the message were not at all on a level that someone should send to the person they owed their life to, but he would understand.

The reply came in a matter of seconds. As expected, he worked fast.

“Good evening. I have everything, so there’s no problem if you come empty-handed. There will be champagne, canapés, chicken pie and cake, and I plan to have chocolate fondue coming up at the end.”

There was a proud smiley emoji at the end of the text. It seemed this was going to be a big deal.

Richard would probably have work tomorrow, and he wasn’t the type to get wasted or stuff his face with sweets in the middle of the night. It seemed I also wouldn’t have to worry about dinner. It made me feel sorry. This was the same old pattern. This course of eating and seeing good stuff amidst the confusion of the moment made my stomach hurt when I thought better about it.

“Don’t you know anything that Richard wanted?”

The response came after a moment, “My bad, but nothing comes to mind. How about you give him what you want most?”

What I wanted most. I could only think of refill shampoo and new socks. I’d be ashamed of giving things like that to Richard. After all, this was a mixture of birthday and Christmas party—

Just as I was thinking this, a genius inspiration sprouted in my head. It wasn’t the best solution. Not at all. But I felt it could work. This was too obvious, but if only I had the necessary materials for it, I could do it immediately.

Making up my mind, I came out of the restroom, apologized for making Richard wait, and as we rode to the designated address on the jaguar, I had him stop the car in front of a mass retailer for a moment. I told him I wanted to buy refill shampoo for my home. Richard was exasperated, but didn’t have any suspicions in particular.

We arrived at the hotel, got into the elevator, and on the way to the party venue, I made sure to walk a bit behind Richard. Staying out of his sight was essential.

When he opened the door to the suite, sure enough, Jeffrey-san and Chieko-san were waiting inside. Giving off a relaxed atmosphere, a room-service feast even bigger than what I had imagined from the phone call was waiting on the table for the main guest.

“Happy birthday, Richard. Chieko’s here too. Surprised?”

“Of course. Very surprised. Extremely.”

“Hmm, by the looks of it, I guess there was some information leak. Well, that’s okay! Where’s Nakata-kun?”

“What do you mean ‘where’? He’s right here. Seigi... Seigi?”

My eyes locked with Richard’s. I had locked them with Jeffrey-san’s before that. I was grateful that he had done me the favor of not laughing.

I politely shook my head at my boss, who was making a flabbergasted face. “My name is Santa.”

What I had bought at the mass retailer was a handy Santa makeover set. The three-piece set consisted of a hat, a put-on beard and a Santa costume, but I hadn’t had time to change into the costume, so it was folded up in my bag. I intended to borrow the suite’s bathroom to put on the costume. If I at least had my face ready, I could somehow make it work.

Richard was dumbfounded. It was the obvious reaction. But I wanted him to forgive me for this. After all, it was December and today was a party day.

“I’m Santa Claus! I came from the North Pole. Please take care of me for today!” After introducing myself, I thought that maybe this wasn’t an exemplary self-introduction for Santa, but it was already too late.

Jeffrey-san, who completely livened up the mood whenever he got excited, went along with the joke, saying, “Wah, Santa-san, thank you for coming from such a faraway place!”

I was grateful for that one. And that was how I got away with playing the role of a worldwide mascot-like old man character from the Arctic for the day. The ice cream cake brought by the star of the party was a success, and we had a toast with both champagne and royal milk tea. Chieko-san was wearing a kimono, the remade peridot brooch on her chest.

   It had already been more than half a year since then, but to my body, it felt like even longer ago.

My location had moved from Japan to Sri Lanka, as one would expect, and I was busy fully enjoying a spring in which white temple flowers were blooming in Kandy, my new home. But for some reason, Santa was here. A beautiful blond, blue-eyed man slipped in and out of sight, but his outward appearance was that of Santa Claus. It was the kind of Santa costume that you could buy at the costume section of any mass retailer. One of the sad things about unmatched beauty was the fact nobody could actually claim that his natural beauty was ruined by the look. The brilliance of his blue eyes, which looked like they could suck you in, was the same as ever.

“I am Santa Claus. I came from the North Pole.”

“But now’s a hot time of the year.”

“Santa Claus is a symbol of summer in the Southern Hemisphere. I do not think it is particularly strange.”

“T-That might be true. Well, then... what’re you doing?”

“Santa does what Santa does. The tradition of Santa Claus, much like the language of jewels, has a wide variety of legends to it depending on the region, but either way, the role of a saint who grants blessings to little children, women and those in need is a guise commonly demanded in society. And for you, here it is.” Saying this, “Santa” offered me a plastic, loose stone display case that I was all too familiar with. There was a red stone stuck between the cushion and transparent lid. “Can you identify this gemstone?”

“Tourmaline, I guess. Red tourmaline.”

“Good for you. Did you know that it has one more name?”

“Rubellite.”

“Perfect. Large, pinkish-red tourmalines are called by that name, and it is a stone of which huge carved crystals have been loved as works of art, such as the amulet of Empress Dowager Cixi and the Romanov royal treasure, the ‘Strawberry Pendant’.”

As I peeked at the stone inside the case, humming that it was pretty, the beautiful jeweler cleared his throat and started over.

“Just as people’s feelings dwell within beautiful stones, this one is filled with the feeling of celebrating the start of your new life, from your family back in Japan, your friends and your superior at work, with whom you have a relationship other than the aforementioned and that neither of us knows how to define. Santa is wholly thankful for being in the position to bestow you with such a gift. I forgot to say it, but happy birthday. Nakata Seigi-san. I sincerely pray, all the way from my home in the Arctic, that this year will be a fruitful one for you.”

“Thank you. Seriously, thank you for always, Richa...”

“Santa. I am a passing Santa.”

“Then let’s go with that. By the way, if you’re Santa, where are the reindeers?”

When asked this, the man in disguise answered with a cool gaze that the reindeers were using stealth technology nowadays so that they wouldn’t be found by radars, hence they couldn’t be seen. He had it down to the details.

“It’s been about ten years since the last time Santa-san came around. I’ll take good care of this. Santa-san, you take care of your body too. I’ll ask my boss next time I see him about the person who gave you this stone.”

“You should. Well, then.” With a bow, Santa left for a car parked in the courtyard. I probably wasn’t supposed to see him off. I’d feel bad for the stealth reindeers.

The red stone stayed in my hand.

I had told a white lie. It hadn’t been ten years since Santa had last showed up. This was the first time ever since I was born. In my home, there was always someone playing the role of “Santa”, such as Hiromi, Grandma and Nakata-san, so they never tried to tell me nice lies. Nakata-san probably just followed Hiromi’s way of doing things, though. The fact I thought up something like that last December, when Jeffrey asked me what I “wanted most”, might not have been unrelated to this. At any rate, to me, not even once was there any supernatural existence who would leave toys by my bedside if I were a good kid. Until this day.

After a while of standing by the garden, where it was always summer, and listening closely to the cries of birds with my eyes closed, I unlocked my phone. The Wi-Fi range of the house seemed good, and so I could send e-mails immediately. The contents were simple. The destination was my boss, Richard.

“Santa came to my place. But he left so quick that I couldn’t make him tea.”

The reply soon came: “Are you half-asleep?”

If he really thought that I was half-asleep, then maybe I should delay the reply for a few more minutes, I thought, but I didn’t write anything further. The house’s cleaning was half-assed and I had to check the security. I also wanted to know as many of my neighbors as could.

Together with the feeling that I had suddenly been given something I had forgotten, and that I didn’t even know I had forgotten, I put rubellite in the jewelry safe and stepped out into the Sri Lankan provincial city. I had nothing to fear and no hesitation. The ill feeling that I’d be living here alone had disappeared. After all, Santa had come by. Far from elementary school, I was now an adult who had already graduated from university, and it currently wasn’t December but May, where the only anniversary I could think of was my own birthday, yet Santa had come by. Such an impossible thing had happened.

So I could do my best, I thought.

And so, I could be getting ahead of myself, but I began thinking about my plans for this December. Would there be a second chance for Santa to appear? If not, I wanted to make one. I decided to fuss over the outfit a little more and prepare proper gifts this time. Then I’d tell him stories about jewels and try to make him laugh a lot. That, too, was Santa’s duty.

[tiffdawg]

Two Halves | A Javier Peña x Reader Oneshot

Gif: @bestintheparsec​

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: T | Warnings: A dash of angst but only to make the fluff sweeter. Alcohol. 

Request: Part of the 500 Celebration! @jigglemiwa requested 49 (You’re the best part of me) or 42 (You keep that photo of us in your wallet?) from this list with Javier Peña. I thought these were great prompts so I used both! Thank you for the request – this was so much fun to write!

A/N: This is so soft y’all. I was blushing while I wrote it. 

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

… . …

Two Halves

It was like any other night after a long day of work. You were at the usual bar a few blocks away from the embassy apartment complex with a warming glass of tequila cradled between your hands. Javier sat next to you, his discarded jacket thrown over the back of his barstool, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and tie hanging loose around his neck. He looked as tired and disheveled as you felt.

It was a quiet evening, both in the bar where a few other patrons milled about, nursing drinks and chatting idly with whoever would listen, and between you and your partner. Or, former partner. That was what made that night unique: it was your last night together in Bogotá.

Now that the Cali Cartel had folded in on itself, the DEA’s presence in Colombia was downsizing and most attachés were transferring elsewhere. You had a lucrative offer for a position in Mexico. And yet, you were wavering as an inexplicable bout of indecision kept you from making a final call about your future. You’d thought that the last day of work would bring some sense of closure or light a fire under you that would make your decision easier. But it hadn’t. Even then, as you traced the rim of your glass, you couldn’t make up your mind. You were much too busy stealing glances at the man sitting next to you.

As for Javier Peña, his job was done, and he was going home. When he asked you to grab a drink with him that night, you’d expected he would be in a bit of a celebratory spirit. Instead, he was in one of his introspective moods, preferring to sit quietly next to you as he lost himself in his own mind. You doubted he’d ever admit it, but you knew he preferred to have someone by his side, even in moments like that. And if you were being honest with yourself, so did you – especially if it was him.

So, the two of you fell into an old, familiar silence broken only by a deep baritone crooning in Spanish that crackled softy through an old radio behind the bar. You weren’t paying close enough attention to make out the lyrics but if you had to guess, he was probably singing about love. They always were. 

Javier sighed at the last sip of tequila in his glass before downing it. As if he’d been waiting for his cue, the bartender appeared and asked if he wanted another round. Javier turned to you with a raised brow.

You finished off the last of your drink and set your empty glass next to his. You’d had a couple of drinks over as many hours. You could get away with one more. “Why not?” 

While the bartender made your drinks, you watched Javier as he leaned against the counter, head held in one hand as he traced the veins of the wood with the pad of his finger. He’d been contemplating something the entire night and had yet to work out a solution to his problem. And it weighed heavily on his mind. You couldn’t figure out what was bothering him so much. His job was over. That heavy burden he’d been carrying around for years had been lifted from his shoulders and he was free from the DEA. Even if he’d never said it out loud before, you knew that was what he wanted deep down. He should’ve been happy.

Just as you opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, a pair of drinks were placed in front you. You thanked the bartender and pulled your glass toward you. As always, Javier reached for his wallet to pay the tab. And, as always, you tried to stop him.

“Javi, you don’t–” 

“I want to,” he insisted, cutting you off before you could protest, “It’s our last night out together, cariño.”

Your cheeks warmed at his favorite name for you. It never seemed to lose its effect on you. Of course, you would’ve preferred it if he meant its true sentiment. And while you didn’t want to admit to yourself that it was the last night you would spend with him, he was finally talking, so you tried to make light of the situation. “Can you believe that? That it’s all over?”

He only shook his head, his face pinching in a slight scowl, as he counted out the correct payment and a generous tip. As he sorted through his cash, something fell from between two crisp bills. You recognized it immediately: it was a photo strip from an old camera booth. The film was faded and bent, well-worn and maybe even well loved. As if It had been hidden away in his wallet for a while, but repeatedly handled. In fact, you could’ve guessed just how long he’d been carrying it around down to the day.

“You keep those photos of us in your wallet?” you asked, your voice not quite hiding your disbelief, as you gently picked up the photo strip. It was a lost memory from one drunken night out when the two of you were trying to unwind after a particularly bad day. In each of the two frames, the two of you were grinning. First, happily at the camera – or, at least, in the general direction of the camera – and then at each other. 

“I just– I like to look at it sometimes. When, you know–” Javier stumbled, clearly caught off guard. “It’s stupid.” 

“No, it’s not,” you assured. You tore your eyes from your smiling faces in the photos to look at him, silently pleading for him to continue with a careful hand on his arm.

He faltered for a moment, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally spoke. “It helps when you’re not around. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you keeping me in line all the time. Sometimes I look at you and I– I know what I need to do.” He finally looked at you, his dark eyes shining with some new emotion. “You make me want to be better. Hell, you’re the best part of me.” 

“Javi,” you sighed as you blinked away the unwanted tears blurring your vision. 

“I know I shouldn’t say that–”

“No. No, you don’t understand.” The two of you regarded each other for a drawn-out breath. He watched you carefully, waiting for you to explain, as you racked your brain for the right words. Coming up short, you swallowed hard and tried a different approach. “Can I show you something?”

His brows furrowed adorably at you and you resisted the urge to laugh. Reaching for your purse, you took your own wallet and shuffled through the crumpled bills until you found what you were searching for.

You gingerly set the last two frames of the photo strip on the counter, aligning the torn edge perfectly with Javier’s photos to complete the picture. “I like to keep you close too,” you said softly. “Sometimes I– I need you.” 

Javier’s expression shifted into some mix of shock and awe that looked rather foreign on him as he considered your statement and the completed photo strip laid out before him. In the back of your mind, you’d always wondered if the torn edge on yours matched with a second set of photos. Together, the four frames told the story of one stolen moment as it unfolded between the two of you. In an almost reverent gesture, he picked up your half and ran his thumb over the last frame. It was a blurry black and white photo of him cradling your face as he pressed his lips to yours.

“I kissed you?” he asked breathlessly.

“Apparently,” you said with a nervous laugh that was more of a sigh. “Don’t feel bad. We’d had a few too many that night. I don’t remember it either.”

“I wish I did,” he mumbled. When he faced you again, he almost looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared,” you answered with a shrug. “I didn’t know if you remembered. And if you did, you never said anything about it, so I thought you might’ve wanted to forget.”

“Cariño, I don’t think you understand,” he sighed, running a hand over his mouth as he placed your half under his again before turning his body toward yours. “I’ve been sitting here all night trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you.”

The chill that ran down your spine was followed by the sweetest warmth spreading from your chest throughout your body. And the tiniest oh escaped past your parted lips at his confession. “I think you just did.”

“I guess so,” he beamed as a look of relief washed over him. “I love you,” he said easily.

“I love you too, Javier,” you promised, finally speaking those words aloud to him you’d felt in your heart for so long.

You both moved at the same instant, leaning in to crash your lips together in a long-awaited second kiss. One neither of you would forget. As his hands cupped your face to hold you near, your lips came together and pulled apart again and again, you smiled into his kiss at the thought that the two of you must’ve looked just as you did in that photo you cherished so much.

“What?” he asked, leaning away just enough to look at you.

“Nothing. I’m just really happy,” you said wetly. You’d wanted that – wanted him – for so long. You’d all but resigned yourself to the idea that the photo of a kiss you didn’t remember was the closest you’d ever get to the real thing. But the real thing was so much better than you ever could’ve imagined. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

“I know what you mean.” When he spoke next, his tone shifted to something more serious. “Wherever you go next, I’ll follow.” Javier knew about your job offer. You’d attempted to solicit his advice about it on numerous occasions. Only then did his reluctance to help you make sense. “I just want to be with you, mi amor.”

You knew he was sincere. You heard it in his steady voice. Saw it in his determined eyes. And felt it in your heart. There would be no separating the two of you now. As you took in the tired lines of his handsome face, you knew exactly what you wanted the future to look like for the both of you. All of your doubt and indecision faded away as you finally allowed yourself to ask for what you wanted most. 

“I want out,” you admitted with an exhausted exhalation. “I don’t want to go to Mexico or anywhere else they might try to send me. I want to go home, Javi. I want to go home with you.”

Without another word, he picked up the two halves of the photo strip and tucked them both safely in his wallet. For some reason, you doubted you would get yours back. Then he stood and held out a hand to you. “Let’s get out of here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you teased, rolling your eyes even as you slipped your hand into his.

“I know what you meant,” he scoffed as he led you out of the bar and toward. “We have plans to make. Together.”

“I like the sound of that,” you said around a smile as you leaned into his side.

“Although,” Javier drawled as he stopped walking and pulled you into him with two strong hands on your hips, “We definitely need to make up for lost time.” He nuzzled his nose against yours before capturing your bottom lip between his plush ones. It was a kiss so soft and slow it made you dizzy. He was intoxicating in a whole new way. Better than the finest alcohol. And you’d happily drink him in as long as you could.

“I think we can multitask,” you quipped, in between heated kisses. He hummed his agreement but made no move to part from you. The two of you stayed like that for a long time, kissing under the golden beam of a streetlight on a quiet road in Bogotá. It would’ve made for a lovely photograph.

In the end, you never got your half of the photo back from him. But it didn’t matter. Years later, that photo strip sat framed on the nightstand next to your shared bed with a single piece of clear tape forever mending the two halves.

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin

[mariamermaid]

Full of Surprises

JJ Maybank x fem reader

Summary: As JJ´s 18th birthday is right around the corner, you take it upon yourself to give him a worthy present…

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: does not follow plot of the show, mentions of blood

A/N: I recently watch OBX and totally loved it! Should I open request for the show?

 Heart of Gold and full of surprises, at least that´s what JJ always said about you. You came into the group of Pogue´s lastly, but you bonded quickly. Your parents were divorced and after living with your mother for several years, you had decided to move to your father´s since your mother was planning on marrying again. You didn´t get along with her new boyfriend, well fiancé, and with his two younger children, you felt like not having a place in the family anymore. More fights erupted and after long arguments, your mother finally agreed. Your father was born and raised in the Outer Banks, knew every inch and every stone and when you finally set foot on the island, you fell in love with it as well. Your father was one of the few middle-class man on the island, enough money on hand to live, have a small house and offer some peace.

It was Kiara who then brought you into the group and when you offered some homemade lemonade with sandwiches and freshly baked cookies, they all made some room for you in their hearts. Close to Miami, where you grew up, you were a city girl, but you enjoyed the island so much more and so did the people there. Most pogues, who had been living there for their entire life, where almost relieved to find you as your father´s daughter. They welcomed you with open arms and gave you a new home.

“Excited for tomorrow?” JJ tore you away from your thoughts and sat down next to you, his feet dangling in the water as well. You chuckled. “It´s your birthday, are you excited?”

“Well, technically my birthday is on Saturday, tomorrow just starts the party”, he replied and you playfully hit his shoulder. John B was driving the boat to the Chateau, also known as his home. Kie and Pope sat in the back, talking about who knew what exactly. JJ´s laughter died down as he became more serious, a rare sight on him. He shrugged. “It´s just a birthday, nothin´ gonna change.” “Eighteen, JJ! It´s a number to celebrate, legal to leave home and shit!”

You always imagined him being ecstatic about this day, the day where he could leave his shitty home and his shittier dad behind. Apparently, you were wrong. Your brows furrowed as you watched his blue eyes travel across the horizon of the swamps. “Where would I go?” He asked mindlessly and it almost broke your heart seeing him that way. It was rare when he showed his weak and vulnerable sides, but you would always be there for him. John B noticed how his friend became around you, how he let his façade slip, at least for some time. He hadn´t talked to him about it, but he knew Kie had begun to notice as well.

“Where would I wanna go without you?”

You arrived at the Chateau, and you cursed John B for not taking a wrong turn, not that he would ever do so by accident. The topic broke off with JJ, but you knew it wasn´t over yet. At a later point you would ask again, and again and again, until he would tell you the truth.

Sometimes it drove the group insane how hardheaded you were, especially when it collided with JJ´s stubbornness, however, your points were usually better and smarter. JJ would also never admit that he sometimes picked small fights with you, just to see you heated in the topic.

There wasn´t a single thing you couldn´t do, at least that´s how it seemed. You were an ace in school, especially languages, biology and psychology. The worst part? You didn´t even study half as much as Pope did. JJ and John B often made bets, who would get the higher score. You had a diving license and once, you made an entire dress for Kiara from total scratch, while being high. It looked absolutely amazing. You picked locks in under 40 seconds and baked the best cookies on the island. Together with JJ you had taken apart the engine of a car, and build it back together. You could open beer bottles with your teeth or a lip gloss and once at a party, you won an arm-wrestle against Rafe Cameron. To add to all of that, you worked part time as a waitress and not once, you forgot an order. You gave Kie all of her piercings and you stitched up both John B and JJ several times with needle and threat. You knew all the words to slim shady and every single song from any Disney movie.

If there was something you couldn´t do, you were at least down to learn it and work hard for it. It was one of the reasons why everyone in the group loved you so much, you always had an idea for an boring day or a solution to the newest problem. It was John B, who called you on the Friday afternoon to discuss a new problem, a few hours before JJ´s party would begin.

“This better be important JB, the lightning in your bathroom is terrible to do my make up in!” You exclaimed when entering his house, your backpack with the essentials for the party hanging over your shoulder. He was sitting at the kitchen table, blood running down his arm. Your backpack fell to the ground as you started quickly inspecting the wound. A branch was sticking in it.

“Why is there a branch sticking in you?” You asked while hurrying through the house to find the first aid kit. “I fell.” You saw how he scratched the back of his neck, an awkward silence following. You kneeled down again next to him, getting ready to pull the branch out. “You fell?”

“Yeah.”

“Doing what exactly?”

“Climbing-“ While he talked, you pulled the branch out and pressed down a disinfecting towel. “Sneaking out”, he corrected himself as he noticed your eyes twitching. You could always tell a lie. “From where?” “I… uhm… I don´t-“, he hissed in pain as you made the first stitch.

“From a girl´s house.” Finally, he had your attention and you raised your eyebrow while continuing to stitch. “A girl´s house? Who?” You wore now a grin and noticed how your friend began smiling as well. “John B? Pogue´s don´t lie to each other! Whose the girl?”

“Promise me not to tell the others, at least not for now.”

“Pinky promise.” “Sarah.” You almost pocked the needle in the wrong place and let out a small scream. “Sarah Cameron?!” “Yes, psht now!” You had just finished your work and while taking a last look on the wound, you leaned back and eyed John B. “So, that´s why you been smiling so lost in the past weeks!” 

“You´re not angry?” “They´re many kooks I don´t like, but Sarah? She´s a sweetheart, she sometimes comes to study when I work.” He sighed relieved and pushed his hair back. “I wish the rest would react as chill as you.” You chuckled. “Good luck telling them.”

“I was hoping you´d help me.” “Your girlfriend, not mine, Johny Boy.”

You pulled out two beers from the fridge and began eyeing the outfits you had brought with you. It didn´t help that the party would start soon, you would just get ready there. “What´s up with JJ by the way?” You asked as you held the red top in front of the mirror. “I was actually hoping you knew.” 

“Me?”

“C´mon, Y/n, he tells you everything! From what he had for breakfast to stories from his childhood, I didn´t even know about!” You hit his shoulder while making your way around the table again. “Oh, I would wear the dress, JJ loves it on you!” You sighed and took the ultramarine dress, changing in the bathroom, door slightly opened. “Okay so what? JJ and I talk a lot, what about it? I still don´t know what´s wrong! Yesterday he didn´t seem excited for his birthday at all!”

Leaving the bathroom changed into the dark blue wrap around dress you started fumbling around with your hair. John B shrugged; he was still leaning on the table. “I guess it´s about his dad.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “But that problem is gonna go away, he´s 18, allowed to legally leave home!” “And where should he go? JJ is too proud to move in with me or you, he thinks he´s a burden…” 

“He is not a burden! Do you know how often I already asked him to move in?” John B chuckled. “When you wear this dress, he´ll be ready to move into your bed.” You threw the shirt you had worn before against his head. Luckily, he didn´t see how you blushed and quickly changed the topic back again. “Whatever he thinks, I have the moving problem solved! Just wait for his present.” You explained with a proud smile, John B furrowed his brows. “What exactly are you giving him, Y/n?” Kie and Pope had JJ´s present discussed, but you had decided against the custom surfboard and wanted to give him something else. “It´ll be a surprise.” “You can´t even tell us!” “That´s what it makes it a surprise.” He gave you the puppy eyes, but you had your make-up bag in your hand and closed the bathroom door behind you. “You´ll see, John B.”

“Always full of surprises.”

 When JJ arrived at the beach, everything was already ready. Kie and Pope had set up fairy lights and brought snacks. A few blankets were spread on the ground, since more pogues would be joining soon. Together with John B you heaved the keg of beer, which was the last thing missing. The second you set down the heavy keg, JJ approached. A huge smile spread on his lips. He wore a light shirt, opened at the front and a cap on his head, looking surfer boy good as always.

“Ready for your party?” Kie asked him as she gave him a hug. Pope looked at his watch. “Three hours left till midnight, till you´re 18!” JJ scratched his back, his eyes looking through the circle of friends. “All that matters that you´re all here with me”, he explained. Laughing you joined for a group hug. “It´s gonna be an amazing evening, promise!” John B exclaimed and you looked over JJ, a certain sadness still hiding behind his striking blue eyes. Within the next hour, more people came. Just before midnight, the group of teenagers outlined  about 30 or 40. You were just talking to some friends from school, when an arm slung around your shoulder. You didn´t even have to look up to find JJ, his cologne and the smell of liquor and smoke was unmistakable. He seemed a good amount of drunk and so did you. Soft music played in the background and JJ pulled you on the dancefloor. You giggled as your hands crossed behind his neck. “You know, I don´t need a present, right?” He finally spoke up and you grinned. “Man, you should´ve told us earlier!”

He let out a laugh. You knew JJ often felt uncomfortable when people made efforts just for him. “Trust me, you´ll love their present.” His brows furrowed at your comment and he slowed down the dancing. “Their?” You nodded slowly, avoiding his glance. “I can´t give you your present until tomorrow.” JJ still seemed confused and you both sat down on a thick branch from a fallen over palm tree. “What have you planned again, Y/n?” He asked smirking, but you shook your head. 

“A surprise.”

Suddenly John B approached, a little staggering from side to side, well a lot. “DUDE it´s twelve o´clock!” With that he pulled his best friend back on his feet and you followed the two, as John B led JJ to Pope and Kie, who held up the present proudly. From the form it was easy to tell that it was a surfboard, but the three had it customized by themselves. The had drawn the five people of your group as silhouettes surfing on the wave in front of the island. It looked amazing. “Happy Birthday!” They all grinned and Kie and you started singing, while JJ looked amazed at the board. “Guys! You didn´t have to!” “Yes, we did!” Kie immediately exclaimed. JJ eyes met yours and you shrugged. “Sorry you still have to wait.” John B sighed next to you. “She doesn´t even want to tell us, can you believe her, JJ?” JJ remained quiet, his eyes lingering on you. “Full of surprises.”

You woke up the next morning, snuggled next to JJ on John B´s couch. Your head still hurt a little, but after downing a glass of water and freshening up in the bathroom, you felt more awake. You barely remembered how you ended up on the couch, but it slowly came back to you. You had tried to bring JJ to sleep, but he was too clingy and made you stay. At that thought, you blushed. Glancing down on him, as you sat back on the couch. He still slept peacefully. Carefully you shook his shoulder and his eyes fluttered open, he started smiling.

“Mornin´.” “Hungover?” He shrugged and you offered him a glass of water as well. “I´ll wake up the other´s.” He groaned. “Why can´t we just stay here?” You threw a shirt, or whatever it was at him. “Your present!”

“LEFT TURN!” You screamed while John B hit the brakes, taking a sharp turn. “Jeez Y/n, next time you drive! Where are going anyway?” JJ, Kie and Pope were seated in the back, they all looked a little ill after you coordinated John B with absolute last-minute directions.  “STOP, we´re here!” You suddenly announced. It had only taken a 10-minute drive from the chateau, but now you were… In the middle of nowhere. You jumped out the van firstly, opening the back door for JJ and the rest. John B took a look around in the mean-time. “Where are we exactly?” Kie asked now as well. A few trees stood around, the water was near, but there was nothing really. You grinned from ear to ear. “You guys see where the water starts? And the post behind the van?” You asked excited and they all nodded confused. Especially JJ watched you slightly concerned. Then you pulled a few sheets of paper and presented them even more proud. JJ took them from you, and while he read them, you watched as his eyes widened. “You´re joking, right?!”

You shook your head. “Nope, this land is officially yours!” JJ let out a short laugh, and looked around again. “It belongs to me?!” “YES!” He couldn´t hold it in anymore and embraced you tightly, spinning you around in the air. “Y/n you´re crazy!”

Pope had taken the papers and nodded approving. Kie and John B laughed surprised. “Now you just need a roof to sleep under!” JB added. You grinned while JJ just didn´t let you go. He looked straight at you, his eyes not once tearing away. “Actually, there is this caravan at the junkyard, it´s in pretty good condition, could use some re-modeling. I think you could get it for a good deal?”

“You´re unbelievable”, JJ breathed again. You shrugged. “I thought you needed a good place to stay, what better than your own place?” He shook his head and just then, you realized how close he was to tearing up. “How can I ever thank you?” He asked whispering, his eyes still watery. “Just let me crash from time to time?” “You can move in with me, if you wanted to! I could live with you for the rest of my life!” JJ exclaimed before even realizing what he said, the group went quiet. You could watch from the corner of your eye, how Kie pulled Pope and John B away from the two of you. Rather awkwardly, you left the hug and JJ scratched the back of his neck.

“I didn´t mean… I didn´t… I... uhm…” JJ started rumbling. “Why not?” You blurted out and he looked up from the ground even more confused. He let out a chuckle. “I´ve known you for like forever and yet you surprise me.” You smirked and stepped a little closer to him.

“Would that surprise you?” You asked quietly and leaned on your tip toes to press your lips softly against his. JJ immediately leaned in and with both hands cupping your face, he held you closer and deepened the kiss. “This is by far the best birthday present.”

[doflamingadonquixote]

An Almost Perfect Life - 3/?

Summary: You are a young career woman at one of the bank in London and, at the same time, attending a PhD in Statistics. Your life was perfect until your apartment was invaded by two demons.

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Fem!Reader x Claude Faustus

Previous Chap: Page 1 , Page 2

III. No place to hide

Finally Monday came. You couldn't believe your enormous luck. You could go out again, you were finally free from that unusual prison.

Still dressed in heavy pajamas, you stood by the window and watched the raindrops attack the glass. It was a gloomy day, but that wouldn’t have affected your cheerful and carefree mood.

“Young lady, breakfast is ready.”

You turned to look at Claude in the doorway and found him with a confused look. You had become accustomed to their constant presence but certainly, not yet in their ways.

“Still have to change?” he murmured as he approached your wardrobe. “I would have assumed that you were ready to set foot out of here even earlier than necessary.”

He pulled out a dark green skirt and one of the shirts you had attached to the crutches and laid them on the bed.

Then, as you watched him distractedly, you noticed that he was approaching the underwear drawer and blushed with a deep red tomato.

Sure you wouldn't reach him in time, you took the brush on the windowsill and pulled it against him.

The object circled for a few moments in the air but the demon, warning it to arrive, moved away at the last second and turned even more confused than when he entered.

“What the hell are you going to do, perverted demon!? Stay away from my clothes!”

“I assure you I have no interest-” he began but was interrupted by a flying radio alarm clock.

 “So, you two are demons.”

The two nodded synchronously.

“Demons who enter into contracts with humans.”

Again a nod.

“And that they owe me gratitude for taking them off the street.”

You ran a hand through your hair as a severe headache started beating again.

“I already told you, you don't need to be grateful to me for anything.” You ran your fingers over the sides of the temples, pushing and hoping that the pain would go away with that simple pressure. “You were attacking each other, I didn't save you from anything.”

What escaped you as you stared at the surface of the kitchen table was the significant look that the two demons had exchanged silently.

“In any case, there is still a significant intrusion.” The amber-eyed demon added.

“Then do something, anything, that will make you disappear immediately.” You asked, desperate to conclude those terrible negotiations.

The two looked at each other again before turning to you again.

“For that, we need a contract.”

You opened your mouth and eyes wide at the same time, looking at them as if they had just drunk each other's brains.

“I will never sell my soul to the devil!” you exclaimed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sebastian chuckled. “Well, there must definitely be something you want from us.” He answered flirtatiously but after seeing your dark and pissed expression he decided to fly over. “Wealth, fame, power ... revenge ...”

The last word seemed to tread with nostalgia, confusing you more than necessary.

“Do you think I will sell my soul for such useless things? I had a perfect life before you two came in to destroy it. I'll probably end up analyzing for this...” you sighed tired. “I will never make a contract with you.”

Claude shrugged, as if it were a matter of little consequence. “Then I guess nobody will leave here very soon.”

 The path to work went smoothly like oil.

The subway was as crowded as ever. Men and women with their work bags and some crazy tourist who had ventured despite the day didn’t bode well.

You squeezed your briefcase against your stomach as you sat on a desk and looked around.

Nobody seemed to notice you for any reason and everyone seemed completely normal people, unaware of all the paranormal that surrounded them. For a moment, you prayed that time would flow back again to allow you to appreciate more that monotony that had invaded your days for years. The whole situation seemed so unreal.

But, to remind you that it was all real, was the strong feeling of being observed but soon, inside your office on the third floor, you would have been the most peaceful and safest person in the world.

You would have done your research, you would have investigated what could hurt them or some spell that could have sent them back to hell as quickly as possible.

When you got out of the vehicle, you continued on foot along the usual road and while passing in front of the alley of the days before, you cursed yourself for stopping.

The sliding doors of the bank continued to open and close as customers and associates entered and left the building.

When you approached them the sweet PUFF that emanated almost made you want to cry.

The lobby was huge, allowing people to wait and operate with serenity, privacy and comfort.

When you approached a counter, very close to the stairs area, a man with auburn hair and a sweet smile looked at you curiously.

“Good morning, Henry.” You anticipated, raising a hand in case he hadn't heard you from the operation he was carrying out with a customer.

“Good morning, (Y / N). You finally recovered.” He replied back, returning to give immediate attention to the person over the counter.

You nodded, albeit with a little hesitation, and you quickly advanced to the lift that would take you straight to your safe place.

You pressed the button and said goodbye to the two colleagues on the upper floor who were waiting for the transport with you.

Your bank had more than 50 floors so it was unlikely that you would get to know even half of those who worked there.

Moreover, relations with those on the lower or upper floors were seldom due to lack of time. And each floor was assigned a job.

Once you reached your floor, you found it packed with people, as usual. Your area made itself available to the customer so the relationship was in close contact with other people.

When you passed the office of your best colleague, you smiled.

“Good morning, Isy. How have these days gone without me?” you asked as you appeared just beyond the door.

The young woman seemed to light up at the sight of your figure and stretched out her small hands.

“(Y / N)! You left me alone to feed these vultures!” she moaned as you advanced and grabbed her hands in yours as if to share the sense of unease with her.

You smiled.

“Forgive me and thank you for replacing me.” You reached over the desk and put a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever you need, don't hesitate to ask.”

She nodded, convinced of your honesty and fairness and watched you leave her room to move towards yours.

When you stood in front of it and inserted the keys inside the classic glass door that recited your name and your job, a ringing voice reached you.

“Miss (S/N), good morning. How are you today?”

You warned the bank manager to join you as you untangled yourself with the lock without then looking up at her.

“Oh, beautifully, director. I think nothing can ruin this day.”

Finally the door opened and with a wide smile you entered, still turning your back on the woman and quickly advancing towards your desk.

“Well, that's a good thing. So our new intern will have the pleasure of getting to know your quiet side.” The woman chuckled.

You sat on the leather chair with a sigh of pleasure and finally your gaze turned in the direction of your superior.

Your fingers instinctively tightened on the two armrests as your head began to fill with steam, which you were sure would come out of your ears at one moment or another.

“I'm Sebastian Michaelis, the new intern. It will be a real pleasure to assist you.”

And he stretched his right hand over the desk as a purple flash shone in the depths of his red eyes.

The director was watching you morbidly, as if expecting the same friendliness and, although shocked, you let common sense guide you to shake the hand of the devil who had followed you to work.

“V-Very pleasure, Mr. Michaelis. Yes, I'm sure it will be an excellent experience.” And you tried to hold it with all the force that your human body was able to pull out. But he only smiled in response.

“Well. Sebastian ... I can call you Sebastian, can't I?” the director corrected immediately, touching the man's arm with an unnatural flirtatious air that you would never have expected from her.

“But of course, it's a privilege for me.” He replied making the bile rise in your throat. Had that bastard really used that kind of skills to get in there?

“(Y / N) will help you with all the paperwork and then you will depend a little on her decisions.” And the hand wandered on the demon's back in a clear caress. “And mine, of course.”

After another couple of exchanges, the manager convinced herself to leave your office and you followed her to close the door and quickly turn to the demon.

“Are you serious?” you hissed, to prevent anyone in the other rooms from hearing.

The apparent man ran a hand through his hair, pulling a lock in front of his eyes. At that moment he was wearing a classic suit with a jacket and tie and you tried not to think about how good he could be in those clothes.

“Well, you didn't really think I'd leave you unprotected, miss” The devil replied, with the most innocent air he managed to gather.

You clenched your skirt in a fist that could have penetrated even the flesh of your palms with tension.

“Protection? This is control. You also want to check me out of the house!”

You felt your breathing reach the limit as you entered hyperventilation. You couldn't believe it, you didn't have room. They were quickly closing you in a box.

You brought a hand to your throat, trying to recover the air that you hadn’t been able to collect to oxygenate your brain and think of a solution.

“Miss, are you all right?”

When his cadaveric hand reached your face panic gripped your mind and, before I realized it, a strong backhand hit the demon's cheek, taking him by surprise and causing him to withdraw his hand.

“Don’t touch me!”

Your voice rose a couple of octaves but you quickly regained control, looking around to notice that no one had seen or listened to your outburst.

You didn't know what was wrong with you but seeing that flash of freedom being ripped off made you uncontrollable for a couple of minutes.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me? I just helped you...” you couldn't understand that surreal situation. It wasn’t possible that your perfect life had been ruined by a single good gesture from you.

It wasn't fair, was it?

“You can't understand, miss.” Sebastian replied, still pushing one hand towards your shoulder and squeezing it slightly as if to comfort you.

Being close to the window, the demon's red eyes lit up as soon as he saw that unmistakable red helmet and black motorcycle suit under the building.

The figure seemed to be answering something on cell phone and after a last look around it resumed its journey, making the vehicle roar.

[call-me-nerdy]

Felix is Ladybug

School starts tomorrow, and I'm already dreading it. Please send help. : (

Felinette November Day 3; Kwami Swap

-----

"So let me get this straight. Apparently, M'Lady is sick today and trusted you enough to let you know her secret identity and let you be ladybug for a day?"

"You are correct."

"Isn't that hypocritical? I mean, she did say that no one could know our secret identities."

"Apparently, I'm an exception."

-----

It was cold. So very cold.

Marinette pulled the blanket tighter around her body, shivering when she exhaled a hot breath. Glancing down, her phone lay idle by her feet. With the little strength she had, Marinette forced herself to pick up her phone and lift it up to her face, turning the screen on with a pained hiss. The bright screen practically burned her retinas in the dark bedroom. Marinette's sight adjusted to see the clock displaying a bold '1:59 pm' on her pink lockscreen.

2 o'clock. It was 2 o'clock in the afternoon. The sunlight was supposed to be burning everything it touched at this hour. Then why the hell, for Kwami's sake, was it so damn cold?!

She buried her face into the pillow in her arms, though no amount of smothering could ease the headache that seemed intent on pounding her temples into smithereens. Marinette groaned in frustration, all too tempted to pull her hair out from the roots to just distract her from her aching limbs. Well, as if she even had the energy to move her arms right now.

"It'll be fine, Marinette. Get plenty of rest so you can recover quickly." Tikki tried to assure the teen, only to receive a soft grunt in return.

"But its a Monday, Tikki. And out of all days to be sick, it just had to be today when a project was due!" Marinette tried to raise her voice to emphasize her worry, but her sentences came out in a low, slurred rasp instead.

"And an addition to that, I promised to take a few of the Kwamis to the movies today. I've only been the guardian for a few months, and I'm already breaking promises." She forced out, her tone was worried and guilt-ridden.

Tikki frowned, "You shouldn't worry about any of that when you're running such a high fever! I'm sure the other kwamis will understand. Your health is much more important right now."

"But–"

"No buts and no more talking! Your sore throat might get worse!" Tikki scolded. Marinette pouted, but Tikki's voice demanded no more arguements. Instead, she pulled the thick blanket over her head in surrender.

"Stupid flu. Stupid fever. Stupid germ akuma making me sick." She muttered under her breath. Tikki sighed.

'Beep beep.' Her phone sounded, nearly startling the teen out of her own body.

Marinette groaned, "Of course. The day I'm sick, and Hawkmoth decides to terrorize Paris." Marinette weakly removed the blanket from her body, biting her lip to ignore the ache.

Tikki put her hand on Marinette's forehead, "You're not transforming."

"But Ladybug–" Cough, cough. Marinette covered her mouth, the onslaught of vigorous coughs attacked her throat.

"We'll find another solution." The kwami insisted, forcing Marinette back onto the blankets.

Knock knock. Tikki gasped, before swiftly hiding inside Marinette's hair.

"Dumpling, your classmate Felix is here to visit you!" Sabine's voice called out before the sound of retreating footfalls eased their worries.

"Marinette, may I come in? An Akuma attacked and we were let home early." Felix's sentence was muffled through the door.

Tikki hid a smirk, "I may have an idea."

"Tikki, no!" Marinette choked.

-----

"So I just say 'Spots on', correct?" Felix swiftly slid the second ladybug earring into his left ear.

"Yep!" Tikki nodded.

Felix sighed, "Alright. I've probably kept the cat waiting for far too long." he cleared his throat.

Marinette sniffled, "I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Felix." A guilty frown etched it's way onto her face.

His gaze softened, "It's fine, Marinette. Just promise to stay in bed and get better? It would ease the most of my worries." Felix assured her.

"Thanks, Fé." Marinette smiled.

"There's no problem." Felix said. Gripping his tie, he sucked a breath,"It's now or never, Tikki."

"Spots on."

-----

Felix's day could not get any stranger.

Well, 'strange' is relative when your city is targeted by a terrorist on the daily, but that's besides the point.

For one, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was absent today. The lack of her presence alone meant his day was missing the color and liveliness it usually had. His other classmates seemed to have missed her as well. After all, the absence of the Class Representative meant that no one would mediate between classroom disagreements (which unfortunately happened much more often than what Felix deemed normal). As much as Rossi tried to capitalize on these issues, like hell could such a selfish girl handle a responsibility like leadership, as she only succeeded in making the issues worse.

Next was a rather strange akuma attack. In the middle of a class discussion, while Felix was oh so peacefully taking down notes for a certain lunette, when his handiwork was suddenly trampled by, no joke, a hundred or so cats.

And then he pieced it all together.

'Marinette was sick. Thus, Ladybug is also sick. There are thousands of cats running madly around Paris. Oh, sh–'

And so he booked it out of the school to Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie.

Where upon arriving into Marinette's room, he was given the responsibility of becoming a kwami-damned superhero.

And now, he was here on a stranger's rooftop, overlooking cats of all things, running feral around the city. With Chat Noir looking at him like he killed his puppy.

"Who are you?" The black-clad superhero warily asked, donning a defensive stance with his baton shielding him.

Felix cleared his throat, "Erm, I haven't really thought of a name for myself yet. But I am supposed to be Ladybug's substitute today."

"Substitute? Why would she need a substitute?" Confusion practically swirled in Chat's eyes.

"Ladybug is awfully ill due to the previous akuma, so she enlisted my assistance until she recovers." Felix tried his best to explain, but he couldn't help but dread the hero's reaction.

"Wait, she asked for your help? You know her civilian identity?!" He burst out, Chat held a tone of betrayal in his voice. Felix fought a wince.

"Yes, I do."

"So let me get this straight. Apparently, M'Lady is sick today and trusted you enough to let you know her secret identity and let you be ladybug for a day?" Every emphasis was coated in disbelief; disbelief that Ladybug had trusted someone else over her own partner.

"You are correct." Felix sighed.

Chat Noir huffed, "Isn't that hypocritical? I mean, she did say that no one could know our secret identities."

"Apparently, I'm an exception." Felix forced himself to say. He couldn't disclose his circumstances anyway.

Chat laughed dryly, "Yeah. Of course you are." he bitterly said.

A period of awkward silence followed after.

"A-anyway, we better go before that akuma hits more people." Chat inhaled. Felix could tell that the hero already didn't like him.

"Agreed."

-----

"I am Little Feline! Cats are getting mistreated by you inconsiderate scum! This is their retribution!" The Akuma was a little girl, Felix assumed. A little girl who was concerned for a few cats, and yet Hawkmoth still decided to use her.

This only reinforced Felix's opinion that yes, Hawkmoth is scum.

"She isn't particularly powerful. She just has a lot of cats surrounding her. Hawkmoth is getting less creative it seems." Chat Noir said, and Felix honestly agreed. They were currently hiding behind quite a large billboard, overlooking the truly staggering amount of cats surrounding the akuma.

"I can see that. It seems her scratch turns civilians into cats." Felix added, darting around to find the source of the power.

"So we should just not get scratched then?"

"It seems that way." Felix clicked his tongue.

"Hey, word of advice." Chat started, "You should probably use Lucky Charm right about now."

"Oh, right." Felix felt his face heat up, "Lucky charm!" Felix held out his hand, and caught the handle of something.

A magnifying glass.

It was a magnifying glass.

"A magnifying glass? How is this supposed to help us?" Felix combed a hand through his hair in exasperation.

Chat awkwardly smiled, "Yeah, Lucky charm does that."

Now how the hell to use this. Felix stared at the object in his hands. How would Marinette use something like this? The sun shone behind them, casting a shadow on the Akuma's fleet of felines.

Felix turned his back to the board. He held the glass by the handle and put it up to the sky right above his face.

The light almost hit his eye.

"Ah!" Stupid, stupid Felix.

"Are you alright?" Chat blinked at him.

"I think." Felix groaned.

He paused.

Wait. That's it.

Felix stared at the glass.

"Chat Noir, I have a plan."

-----

The plan was a bit convoluted, but alas, it did just the trick. Making use of the billboard casting a shadow over the cats, Felix used the magnifying glass to direct a beam of light to distract the horde away from the girl. Chat Noir figured that the akuma was in the gloves that the akuma used to turn people into cats, so he used the opportunity to use cataclysm on the claws while she was distracted.

How did Marinette deal with all of this?

Felix watched the white Butterfly fly away, relieved that all of this was over.

"Miraculous Ladybug!" He threw the magnifying glass to the sky, watching with awe as it transformed into glowing ladybugs that swept through Paris as a miraculous cure.

His earrings started beeping.

"I guess this is my cue to leave. Thank you, Chat Noir." Felix offered a handshake.

"You're welcome." The hero reluctantly smiled and returned his gesture.

A familiar voice gasped, "Wait! Wait a minute!" She ran to them, a phone recording in her hand.

Alya Cesaire.

"I'm afraid I must go before I detransform. Chat Noir will answer all of your questions." Felix clasped the yoyo, about to zip away if not for his classmate putting a hand on his forearm.

"Just one question, please!" She pleaded.

Felix sighed, "I suppose–"

Alya almost squealed, cutting him off. "Thank you! So what do we call you?!"

Felix paused for a moment,

"Call me Cerberus." he finally said.

-----

"Cerberus, huh." Marinette rasped.

Felix groaned, "It was on a whim."

"Uhuh, sure. Because you totally didn't know that there's a chance that Cerberus means 'Spotted' in Greek."

He frowned, "I will not confirm, nor deny your suspicions."

"Oh, don't you know that the Latin for Cerberus can also mean clouds?" Despite her sickness, Marinette still loved to tease him. No matter the circumstances.

"Shut up, Dupain-Cheng."

Marinette cackled, "Oh wouldn't you like that, Fluffy."

-----

I shouldn't be up at 11:30 in the night because school resumes tomorrow. But eh, screw it.

[one-boring-person]

Show's Over.

The Lost Boys x VampireHunter!reader

Warnings: blood imagery, (minor) character death,

Context: This is the third part of the vampire hunter arc, I guess. It takes place a long time prior to the events in the first two (which i will link below this) so the relationship between the reader and the boys is not a particularly friendly one. In basic terms, the reader is chasing off a pair of vampire hunters, which the boys decide to confront (?) her about.

A/N: so I sort of figured out, too late, that this isn't particularly focused on the boys, but it kind of helps with some character development I guess? I hope it's acceptable😅

You Tell Us , Distraction

"Typical." I curse under my breath as I catch sight of my target walking down the street to my left, followed closely by an annoyingly familiar figure with a mess of blonde curls on his head, his confident demeanor a clear indicator of who he is. For hours now I've been waiting in the cold, damp space for her to finally walk past, ready to follow her to her comrade, the two of them having been a little hard to catch at first, despite their inexperience, and there's no way I'm letting some dumb idiot ruin the plan. Clenching my jaw, I move to the other side of the alleyway I'm in, pressing my back against the cold wall behind me, taking a fake cigarette out of my pocket and pretending to light it as the scantily clad woman steps past the entrance, my appearance going completely unnoticed. Seconds later, her pursuer trails after her, thumb between his teeth as usual, eyes focused on the target, so much so that he doesn't notice me step out behind him until my hand is wrapped around his mouth, my other arm looped around his waist. In his surprise, he allows me to pull him into the alley before starting to fight, his superior strength quickly getting the better of me, his hand swiftly clasping my throat and pushing me back against the wall, anger blazing in his expression.

"You? What the hell?" He hisses into my face, eyes flashing dangerously as I stand there, staring him down with disgust and irritation.

"You should check your victims before you advance on them, Blondie. She's not quite your type, being a hunter and all." I respond, pushing him off of me as his grip relaxes, surprise briefly flicking across his face. I don't give him time to respond, ducking out of the alleyway swiftly and starting up the street, my hands in my pocket as I try to look as casual as possible, knowing the woman from before went the same direction. For the moment, she's completely disappeared, but I'm well aware that she does not work alone, and they've used this tactic before, though I never found a body in the spot where they committed the deed, which puzzled me greatly at the time. Until I worked it out.

A few seconds later, I emerge out onto a large parking lot, the open space barely lit by three streetlights, revealing a beaten green truck with a tall figure leaning against it, a frown creasing his heavy brow as he spots me, clearly expecting to see someone else. I act as indifferent as possible, knowing exactly where his accomplice is due to their carelessness, quickly locating her the second I step into the light, though I don't give this away immediately. Instead, I take my hands from my pockets and greet the guy by the truck.

"Good evening." My voice is polite even if my face remains expressionless.

"Who are you?" He demands, pushing off the vehicle, muscles tense, demeanor unsure.

"A friend, unless you do something to change that." I inform him, lifting one of the sides of my jacket to show the stake tied into place there, though I keep my more lethal weapon hidden from him.

"You're a hunter too?" He sounds surprised, as if my appearance doesn't lead him to believe me.

"Yep. Santa Carla is my hunting ground." I confirm, gesturing vaguely to the surrounding area, lifting my eyebrow at him when he narrows his eyes. Behind the tuck, I notice there is a darkened shop window, in which I spot the reflection of a faint flicker of movement with no apparent body, confirming to me that she is, in fact, a vampire.

"Your hunting ground? I didn't realise you claimed it." The hunter comments without acknowledging his little friend, eyes flicking almost imperceptibly over my shoulder.

"I have. If you looked close enough, you'd notice that I've left my mark all around the place. And this is also why I'm politely asking you to leave and not come back."

At my words, the guy let's out a scoff, waving me off.

"And why should I do that? You're clearly not doing a good job." He says matter of factly, nodding slightly at the woman behind me, thinking I didn't notice it.

"Oh? What makes you say that?" I push, evening my stance in preparation.

"Well, for a start, this place is crawling with vampires."

I give him no reaction, knowing that he is mostly wrong - I've never let a vampire slip through my fingers, barring the four who skulk around the Boardwalk all night, and they hardly count.

"And what is your solution? I'm not gonna leave."

"Well it's quite simple, really." The hunter smirks at me, before I feel the familiar rush of air that signifies the approach of his accomplice. Instantly, I duck down and let the vampire lunge over me, stumbling past my form as I surge back upwards, pulling her arms back into an uncomfortable position and forcing her to her knees. In surprise, she cries out, writhing in my grip until I pull out my stake and hold it to her neck.

"An interesting solution, but I think you'll find I have a lot more experience than you think, and this is not the first new vampire I've encountered." In my grasp, the woman gasps and whimpers as I pull her arms tighter, nearly breaking her elbows. Across from me, the hunter appears shocked, a line forming between his eyes as he takes in my indifferent countenance, "Now, I'm gonna tell you again. Leave Santa Carla and never come back."

"Or what?" He snaps, scowling at me in frustration.

I roll my eyes, pulling the vampire upright, as I make eye contact again, giving him a pointed look as I thrust the stake straight into the side of her head, holding a hand over her mouth as she screams in agony, her blood pouring out onto my clothes and skin, her body writhing in pain. The hunter starts, a hand lifting as if to stop me, though it is quite clear that it is too late, her vampiric features fading as she finally falls unconscious, her body dropping to the floor with an unceremonious thud.

"That was strike one. Strike two is a little more...damaging." I explain to him, wiping my hands off on my jeans.

He stays silent for a minute, clearly shocked by this turn of events, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he speaks again.

"I doubt it. You think that scared me off? She was useless anyway." He scoffs, though I can tell he is lying, his stance tense and ready to move at a moment's notice, sweat beading on his brow.

"Maybe, but I reckon you have a high sense of self preservation, even if your techniques are as bad as they come." I muse out loud to him, before reaching into my jacket and pulling out a handgun I nicked from a security guard a couple of months ago, holding it down by my side for the minute. His eyes widen a little, almost indiscernibly, his neck tightening as he swallows nervously.

"You don't have the guts to shoot me."

"Don't I?" I cock the gun, aiming straight at his head, "Wanna test that theory?"

Gritting his teeth, he finally decides it's not worth it, climbing into his truck and driving off without a second glance, my arm only dropping when the vehicle leaves my sight. Sighing, I feel the disgust at my appearance finally set in, the congealing blood plastering the fabric of my clothes making them stick to me uncomfortably.

A whistle, followed by a slow clap interrupts me. I turn to find the four people I least want to see leaning against the darkened window of a closed shop, eyes all fixed on me.

"Nice going. Didn't think you could actually do it." Mullet-boy (as I call him) smirks at me, a cloud of smoke billowing out of his lips as he speaks, a cigarette clasped between two fingers.

"What the hell do you four want?" I retort, eyeing them all suspiciously.

"Just wanted to see the show." Twisted Sister Wannabe shrugs, leaning back against the wall with a wide grin, Blondie agreeing with him with a smirk. Only the brunette remains silent, his dark eyes watching me with some sort of emotion in them - admiration?

"Well show's over now, so you can leave me alone."

"Where's the fun in that?" Mullet-boy responds, sauntering over to me with an air of confidence, stopping over the body of the vampire I killed just minutes ago.

"Where's the fun in staying here?" I point out, hesitantly crouching down by her head, pulling the stake from her lifeless skull whilst keeping a close eye on the vampires crowding around me.

A low chuckle leaves the leader, his lips briefly closing around his cigarette as he inhales and exhales after a few seconds.

"You stopped Marko from going after her earlier. Why?" He finally asks, blue eyes holding my gaze in place.

"Who?" I question, before remembering the name that goes with the correct face, "Oh right, yeah, I did. You would've messed up my plan if you'd kept going, and you would've ended up dead."

"Is that right?" Blondie - or rather, Marko - bristles at my words, stepping forwards slightly until the brunette stops him.

"What makes you think he couldn't take them on?" The taller vampire inquires, eyebrow lifted in curiosity.

I shrug dismissively.

"They were both new to the profession."

"Doesn't that make them easier to kill?" Twisted Sister Wannabe frowns, exchanging a glance with Marko.

"Maybe, but it also makes them more dangerous." I sink the piece of carved wood into the unconcious vampire's chest, killing her properly, before placing the stake into my pocket again, standing back up again and backing away from them, going to the space where the truck was originally stood, inspecting the ground around it. The vampires watch me with interest, none of them making a sound until Marko and Twisted Sister Wannabe start to whisper with each other, the two of them giggling amongst themselves at some private joke, only stopping again when I lean down to pick something up off the floor.

"What've you got there, kitten?" Mullet-boy questions me, voice sounding bored even though I know I've piqued his curiosity, the platinum blonde making his way over to me again, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Don't call me that, Mullet-boy." I growl at him, warningly, feeling slightly triumphant when his face tightens momentarily.

"I could ask you the same thing, hunter." He responds, tone laced with threat.

"Or you could ask me my name." I point out, inspecting the object in my hand: a small signet ring which reeks of garlic. Clearly, the hunter is not aware of how utterly useless this is.

"I know your name. The question is whether you remember ours."

"Of course I do, I'm not an idiot." I snark back at him, examining the insignia on the ring's face, not quite noticing as the other three come closer.

"We never said you are." The brunette, Dwayne, reminds me, his head suddenly appearing close to mine as he takes a look at the loop of metal in my hand. I tense up as I find them all circled around me, each of them looking at the ring, a frown appearing on David's face as he drops the cigarette, crushing it underfoot as he takes the ring from me.

"That's interesting." He murmurs to himself, eyeing the intricate lines with a practiced eye, as if he knows the pattern well.

"What is?" Twisted Sister Wannabe, Paul, asks, face creased with confusion. When the leader doesn't move to respond, I roll my eyes and step forwards, taking the ring back from him with a sense of finality, going back over to the body, where I pat it down, looking for any possessions she may have owned, finding none except another ring, a smaller one this time. Pocketing them both, I reach under the limp body and tense my muscles, picking it up with a small grunt, wincing a little when the drying blood sticks to my clothes, the stench quickly entering my nostrils. As I heave the body into a comfortable position, I shoot one last look over at the four vampires, nearly smirking at their surprised expressions, clearly not expecting me to be able to lift such a heavy weight, raising an eyebrow at them almost as if in farewell, before turning and starting to walk off, intending to dump the body out at sea, where it won't be found for at least a few weeks.

"I have one last question before you go." David calls after me, voice genuinely curious for once.

"What is it?" I snap back at him, eager to get home at this point, fed up with reeking of vampire blood.

"Would you have shot him if he didn't leave?"

I slow my pace momentarily, redrawing the gun from my jacket as I balance the body against me. Without a word, I aim blindly at a nearby building, compressing the trigger twice.

Only one hole appears in the brickwork.

"My first shot is always a blank, but my second is always well-placed." I respond, continuing on after holstering the gun once more, cursing myself for wasting a bullet. Behind me, I can just about make out Marko and Paul talking with each other, one sentence standing out to me.

"Well, I'm glad we don't have to worry about her." Paul says this, but he is quickly interrupted by David, who sounds a little put out.

"I'm not so sure about that."

[marinaaniseed]

Ribbons and leaves

Song: Ribbons and leaves from the album Happiness in magazine by Graham Coxon.

Summary: Bucky finds you after 80 years.

Pairing: Female reader x Bucky Barnes

Length: 1,984 words

Warnings: Some old fashioned attitudes to sex and sexuality, traumatic events in Bucky’s past (including at the hands of HYDRA) and I guess spoilers if you’ve not seen the Captain America films. This one might hurt.

A/N: This was written for @lancsnerd‘s #Lancsnerd1kchallenge. So happy for you, you deserve every follower! I’ve combined it with a songshot, so for clarity, stuff in bold are the lyrics, stuff that’s underlined is my prompt, anything sans formatting is just me. I made myself cry while writing this, so be warned again, this one might hurt. See here for what this is all about.

***

In an old house, in an old street, Bucky finds you. You’re old too, of course, exactly as he should be.

Sitting in front of the TV, your son lets Bucky in. James, he said his name was. A good name, Bucky thinks, even if he hates it when people call him that.

Bucky’s surprised by the lack of surprise when he appears on your doorstep, like somehow your son was expecting him. He supposes that you told James about him, after the world found out that Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier were one and the same.

Tea is brought through on a tray, and James excuses himself, leaving the two of you to talk.

“Took you long enough to find me,” you tell him, turning the TV off and turning to look at him. Time and circumstances have weathered him a little, but essentially he’s still the same man you said goodbye to, back in the 1940s.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky mumbles, because he is. But he’s glad you’re still alive, that he’s found you before it’s too late.

“You’re here now. Better late than never,” you observe. “Got your old cap and tobacco tin, you can finally have them back.”

He’d forgotten about those. It hurts his heart to hear how you kept those things, that you never forgot him, even though he was forced to forget you. It seems you never quite moved on, despite the photos that line the walls.

“I see you have a beautiful family,” Bucky says, looking around the room. He can’t see your husband in any, just two children at various ages, and eventually grandchildren and even great-grandchildren too.

“So do you,” you say softly.

“No, I never settled down,” Bucky notes. But if he had, he would’ve liked it to have been you.

“James, who you met, is named after his father. He and his sister were born eight months after I last saw you,” you state, not sure what else to say.

You can pinpoint the exact moment that it finally dawns on Bucky. His eyes go wide, skin goes deathly pale, and he opens and shuts his mouth several times, failing to make any noises.

“I have a son? And a daughter? Do they know? Did James know?” he eventually stutters.

“They’ve always known, I never hid from them who their father was,” you tell Bucky. “James has my late husband’s surname, but he always knew you were his father.”

“That’s why he wasn’t surprised to see me,” Bucky surmises, kicking himself for not finding you sooner.

“Correct. When I found out, I wrote to you. My letters went unanswered and I got in contact with your sister, trying to find out what was wrong. How we prayed for you to come on home. Eventually, we got the news that you’d fallen to your death,” you explain.

Bucky shudders at the memory. In a lot of ways, it would’ve been better if he had died that day, instead of enduring what HYDRA put him through.

“My soldier, my dead prince. You can understand the predicament I was in. An unwed mother to be. Marriage was the solution for me and for my husband. He was a queer fella, a friend, needed a wife so that the navy didn’t find out what he really liked. A practical solution for all,” you note. “He died in Europe, too, but at least I got to play the part of the honourable widow, with two young children, instead of the stigma of having two bastards.”

That explained why your husband was missing from all of the photos.

“And you never remarried?” Bucky asks. He imagines how he feels right now is comparable to the shock Steve must’ve felt when he realised that Bucky was still alive.

“Never,” you note. “I married for practical reasons, the only way I’d do it again was for love, and the man I love was gone.”

It doesn’t escape Bucky’s notice that you said love, not loved. He moves to sit next to you, taking your hands in his. So small and delicate in comparison.

“I love you,” he says, blinking back tears. “I’m sorry you lived all of this without me. I’m sorry you never knew that I was still alive.”

“It’s ok, you’re here now,” you tell him, handing him a tissue from the box on the table. “You’re here now, it’s not too late. Everyone will be so excited to meet you.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, doll. I’m the thing that monsters have nightmares about. Or I was,” Bucky says, gnawing on his lip. “I don’t want to intrude into your lives or cause any bother.”

There’s a soft knock on the door, and James enters, a tiny sleeping baby in his arms.

You give him a smile and a nod to let him know that it’s ok, that Bucky knows.

“So, uh, dad,” James starts softly with a smile, so like Bucky’s own that he can see that this is definitely his son. Tears start rolling down Bucky’s face, moistening his facial hair. He never thought anyone would call him dad, and now here is this man, who looks old enough to be his father, calling him dad.

“Since you never got to hold any of us when we were small, I wondered if you wanted to hold Samantha? She’s my first granddaughter. We brought her round to see mum today,” James says, stepping towards them with the baby.

It’s all too much. Bucky’s heart shatters at the thought of all that he’s missed. His own son is here, in the twilight of his life, and Bucky’s missed it all. He sobs softly and you put your arm around him. James sits down on the other side of him, holding the still sleeping baby.

“Are you sure?” Bucky asks, voice breaking. “Are you sure you trust me? You know what I’ve done.”

“Of course I trust you, you’re my dad,” James observes, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Even when we found out about the Winter Soldier, about you, mum never believed it was really you doing those things.”

“The man I knew wouldn’t, couldn’t do those things,” you tell Bucky. “They took the gentlest man in the world and turned him into a machine. I’m glad they couldn’t erase all of you.”

One day, maybe, he’ll sit down and tell you, tell James, everything that happened, everything he can remember. It’ll take time, because there’s so much he needs to know, so much he wants to catch up on and understand.

Carefully, James places the baby in Bucky’s arms. Her hair is so dark and chocolatey, just like his. She stirs slowly, but doesn’t cry, blinking open big eyes. They’re the same shade as yours. Even so many generations down the line, parts of you and parts of Bucky are still evident. Samantha tries to focus on Bucky and her mouth forms a small smile. Bucky smiles back, trying not to cry again.

It’s been so long since he held a baby, probably not since his sister.

“Did you ever meet my sister?” Bucky asks James.

“Aunt Beccy was the only real family we had,” James answers. “Albert’s family, mum’s husband’s family, lost touch with us after he died. Moved away to Hawaii. We didn’t have any cousins, so Beccy treated us like her own. I’m sorry she died without knowing you were alive.”

“It’s ok, it’s better that she didn’t know what I did,” Bucky insists.

A tiny hand grips his vibranium thumb. Something so beautiful, tiny, and innocent, unwittingly grasping a weapon.

No, that’s wrong. He’s not a weapon anymore, he’s not the Asset.

Bucky’s so lost, staring at his smiling great-granddaughter that he doesn’t notice more people have joined them.

A small boy, probably just around school age, stops in front of you.

“Happy birthday, grandnan,” he says cheerfully to you, holding out a handmade card covered in glitter and stickers.

“Thank you, Tristan,” you tell him with a smile. “Is this why I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen until you were done?”

The boy nods, hair flopping forwards. While your hair is white now, the colour Bucky remembers lives on with this small boy.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” Bucky mumbles, cheeks heating up. “I completely forgot it was your birthday.”

“I’d prefer to forget it,” you reassure him. “But apparently, when you get to our kind of age, every birthday is a big one. Does that mean I’m older than you now?”

“You’ll always be my baby girl,” he says. “Looks can be deceiving, but you can’t change facts.”

“Do you know who this is?” you ask Tristan, gesturing towards Bucky.

He looks between you, James, and Bucky, trying to make the connection.

“Granddad's dad?” he ventures.

“Yeah, that’s right honey bun. Granddad's dad,” you explain.

“Why isn’t he old like you and granddad?” he asks, and Bucky’s glad when he hears you laugh, even though James tries to tell him that’s not a polite question.

“You remember at school when you learned about Captain America? Something similar happened,” you answer, to Bucky’s relief. That’s not a story he wants to tell a small child.

“You were frozen?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, because that’s not exactly a lie.

“Why is your arm made of metal?”

James tries to shush him again, but Bucky understands. The kid is curious. He would’ve been exactly the same at that age.

“I lost it in an accident,” Bucky says. “I can take it off if it’s scaring you.”

“You can take off your arm? That’s so cool, I wanna see!”

“Sorry about that,” a man with a moustache says, trying to steer the kid away. “He doesn’t quite understand that some questions are impolite.”

“I don’t mind,” Bucky reassures him. “I’d have a lot of questions if I was him.”

The kid could be standing on his balls and he’d still be over the moon.

“This is my son Michael and his wife Jessica,” James tells Bucky. “You already know, but this is my dad, James.”

“Bucky,” he says instinctively.

“Nice to meet you,” Bucky’s grandson and wife say in unison.

“Thank you for letting me hold your daughter,” he says, handing Samantha back to her wary mother.

Your hand strokes Bucky’s hair. It’s even softer than you remember it being. A shiver runs up his spine as he recalls that last night you spent together, how you’d stroked his hair then.

As soon as there’s space, Tristan clambers into Bucky’s lap, determined to monopolise the attention of this strange man with a metal arm.

“Metal granddad,” Tristan tells him, making Bucky laugh.

“Sure, you can call me that. Or you can call me Bucky,” he says, not really sure what the kid should call him. He’s still getting his head around James calling him dad.

Tristan tries to hug him in his tiny arms, face buried into Bucky’s chest.

“I love you, metal granddad,” he says.

“I love you too,” Bucky replies. It’s been decades since he’s heard those words said to him.

But now he sits surrounded by a small portion of his family, a family he never knew he had. Bucky’s overwhelmed by all these faces, so happy to see him at last. Now that he’s taken this first small step, he can’t wait to meet the others.

Even when he didn’t know who he was, he was loved.

“Mum never stopped loving you, none of us did,” James mumbles next to him, as if he can hear Bucky’s thoughts.

“I can see that,” he says with a smile, still cuddling Tristan.

“I guess you didn’t either,” James continues, “because you finally found us.”

If the monsters could see him now, they wouldn’t have nightmares about him. It’s a thought that makes Bucky very glad indeed.

[shootingcookielover]

Dear Dragon witch, STOP KIDNAPPING PEOPLE

Soooo @transformationloveb this prompt gave me ideas.

Warnings: Blood, the f-word gets dropped several times, kidnapping i guess, fainting

-

“However nice this trip is… are you going to tell me the true reason why you brought me here or not?”

Roman startled at the question, unease and anxiety creeping into his heart. Janus’ tongue flicked outwards for less than a second, tasting the lie forming in Roman’s head at this very second. “Do bother to deceive me, Roman. It’s not like you’ve been clouded in a lie of omission since you’ve invited me here.”

Though the serpent wouldn’t admit it out loud, he was actually quite tense. Roman's ominous and unprompted invitation into the imagination had set him on edge; it was one of the last things he'd expected after that video. 

The creative side seemed to shrink in on himself a bit, as the lie in his mind dissolved. He fiddled with the sleeves of his shirt before squaring his shoulders. His eyes closed for a second and he took a deep breath. 

Janus felt his own distrust in the situation - and in Roman, quite honestly - spike at that.

Then the creative side locked eyes with the serpent and, with the most earnest voice he rushed out the words: "I'msorryformakingfunofyourname!" 

The deceitful side blinked a few times, as his mind caught and deciphered the meaning of the sentence. After that he remained quiet for just a bit longer, too dumbfounded to react quite yet. 

Roman had… apologized to him. 

How was he supposed to react now? To his chagrin his deceitful nature kicked in, as it usually did when he couldn't find the right words. 

"Oh, why thank you, Roman! That totally makes up for you ridiculing me while I was vulnerable!" 

Fucking. Seriously? 

Janus wanted to slap, impale and/or poison himself. Why could he never just… Keep his mouth shut? 

Considering it was his job to keep the others silent when they were supposed to be, you'd think he was better at keeping quiet. 

The hurt look in Roman's eyes and the disappointed fall of the other's shoulders told him everything he needed to know. His thoughts were correct: He was a fucking dumbass. 

"No, Roman, I-", however, it was, apparently, too late to take his words back, since a gigantic pair of talons dug into his shoulders. 

Janus bit back a scream as he was lifted off the ground. Whatever carried him - he chanced a glance upwards and it was a dragon, because of course it was - was too far up too quickly. 

The serpent scrambled to grip the talons with his own two- err, three- no, now it was four, four arms. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to ignore the situation at hand. 

Why the fuck had he agreed to come to the imagination?! He knew how dangerous it could be, Remus’ side had shown him that plenty of times! 

Well, truth be told, it was the tiniest of voices in the back of his head, desperate to be accepted by Thomas, all of Thomas, which included Roman. Perhaps he'd also felt a bit guilty about calling Roman evil. 

And, quite honestly, he had expected Roman's side of the imagination to be much safer than Remus'. 

He, of all sides, should know how similar the twins were, but no. He'd still come along. 

He was, indeed, a fucking dumbass. 

-

Roman, meanwhile, had run after the dragon witch, but quickly lost her and the side she'd caught. Now he stood at the foot of a hill, sword in hand, cursing himself. 

Of course the dragon witch would come out; she'd always been rather protective of him and didn't take well to… 'dark sides'.

She was the main reason Virgil didn't visit more often. 

Now she had Janus and- and… 

And Roman didn't quite know what to do. Maybe he should just… let them go. 

Then at least Thomas would be a better person. 

"No!" 

Roman ran a hand through his hair, lowering his head. "No.", he whispered. 

He was a prince. A hero. 

He saved people from the evil clutches of the dragon witch, no matter who they were. Even if… 

Even if they happened to be reptilian rapscallions. 

Mind made up, Roman tightened his grip on the sword handle and raised two fingers to his mouth. A few seconds later, a shrill whistle echoed through the forest before him. 

He didn't have to wait long. 

The sound of hooves against dirt neared and his trusty horse, Sparkle, came to a halt in front of him. She nuzzled Roman’s neck, her warm breath puffing against his exposed skin.

The creative side gave a light giggle and petted the horse. “I missed you, too, my valiant mare! But now we have no time for this, as another side requires my assistence.”

Roman took Sparkle’s head in both hands, looking into her eyes seriously. “It is time for another adventure!”

-

Janus decided that having dragon talons digging painfully into your shoulder was much preferable to them suddenly disappearing. 

This time he couldn’t stifle the scream. 

It cut out when he slammed into the ground. Hard, rock-y ground. The air was pushed out of his lungs.

He gasped for oxygen, one arm wrapping around his torso. His eyes followed the giant form of the dragon.

It cycled to the ground, before landing with a loud boom. Janus, who had pushed himself into a semi-sitting position, fell over once more as the ground shook. His undoubtedly bruised rib cage screamed in protest. He gasped for breath again.

When he looked up again, the dragon’s snout was only centimeters from his own. Hot, dry air was blown into his face.

If he hadn’t lost his hat already, it certainly would be gone now.

As best he could, Janus scooted away. His back hit a wall. 

A glance behind him revealed that, nope, not a wall. A dragon tail.

He looked back at the giant dragon head. He could see his own reflection in the creature’s eyes. He looked horrible; his hair all messed up, his clothes rumpled. There were a bunch of tears in his capelet, right where the talons had dug in. 

Deciding that movement would not get him out of this situation, he said: “Sooo… how are you…?”

The dragon gave a light growl, blowing a light cloud of smoke into Janus’ face. The serpent coughed, bringing a hand up to his face. His glove ended up lightly stained red. 

Amazing. Just. fucking. awesome.

“Would you… mind… letting me go…?”, Janus tried again, doing his best to ignore the arm-long teeth of the dragon.

More smoke; more coughing; more blood.

Well this was going great.

Out of nowhere, the dragon’s head moved into the air, eyes on something in the distance. 

If Janus wasn’t mistaken, the creature sniffed the air.

Then there was a strange scraping sound. Janus realized it was the dragon opening it’s wings.

The dragon took off suddenly. 

It left Janus, who had been leaning against it’s tail, stumbling. The strong gusts of wind made him fall over and blew him across the ground. He skitted a few metres, body screaming in pain.

He finally came to a stop, gasping for breath. His arms shakily managed to prop him up.

He looked towards the sky. The dragon was gone.

The idea of escaping, however, soon shrunk as he looked around. He appeared to be in a giant hole in the ground.

A coughing fit shook him, bloodying his gloves even more.

His weak arms buckled under his weight and he collapsed.

Fucking. Great.

-

Roman slid off Sparkle. The dragon witch’s nest lay just ahead and he really didn’t want to risk his horse’s life.

“Now, go, my valiant mare! But stay near; I may need a quick escape.”

The horse neighed and ducked her head in almost a nod. Then it took off.

Roman watched it go before wrapping his hand around the swordhandle from the sword that hadn’t been there just seconds prior.

The loud flaps of wings made him whip around, eyes narrowed. He searched the sky and quickly found the dragon witch. She was barely recognizable, that’s how far up she was.

Determination flooded the prince’s veins as he stepped out of his hiding spot.

“HEY, dragon witch!”, he yelled, sword pointed at the distant form of the dragon witch. “Release my…”, he struggled to find the right word for a moment. “...colleague! Or face the consequences!”

A bout of fire was his answer. Roman was quick to duck away, avoiding the heated blast with a roll. 

Seconds later the dragon witch landed, and, as always during these fights, Roman was glad he’d conceptualised her with earth magic.

-

Janus breathlessly dragged himself to the wall of the hole. He groaned in pain as he sat up against it. With a sluggish hand movement he wiped away a dribble of blood from the edge of his mouth.

The wall was too smooth to climb, he found. Another groan left his lips.

He did his best to think, think of a solution for this situation, but there was so much pain-

His eyes snapped open when had he closed them?. 

He remembered Logan, of all people. 

We’re not actually real.

Hm.

Roman was capable of summoning things wherever he went. Shouldn’t Janus be, too?

The serpent slowly raised his hand. He squinted at the not-so-yellow-anymore glove. 

Come on, he thought, his fang poking his lower lip to keep him focused. Come on-!

There was a sudden weight in his hand and damn. The relief was palpable.

-

Duck, roll, block. 

The powerful sizzle of magic slammed into his shield. He held his ground.

The magic stopped and the dragon witch needed to recharge. A grin spread across Roman’s face and he sprinted towards the dragon.

Slash. Slash.

The soft belly was very susceptible to his sword. 

Instead of blood, a kind of magic mist swirled from the opening. The dragon witch growled as the wounds stitched themselves back together.

“You win this time, princey. Tell your boyfriend I will kidnap him again, if he keeps making you upset.”

Before Roman could correct the dragon witch, she took off.

The prince stumbled from the gust of wind, but he managed to keep standing.

“What the fuck.”

Roman whipped around. Janus stood next to the dragon witch’s nest - barely more than a hole in the ground - legs trembling from the effort of keeping him upright.

-

The serpent was done. Done!

This whole thing was just some… prank! And- and…

Yeah, he wasn’t all that angry, truth be told. He was mostly exhausted and done with the whole situation. 

Prank or not, he didn’t much care right now; Remus had done much worse and few of those had actually been intended as pranks.

“Janus! By Odin’s beard, are you alright?!”, the prince rushed to Janus’ side, his sword clattering to the ground. 

“Of course I am!”, Janus snapped, leaning into the prince, because damn it, standing was hard and the other side was soothingly warm. “It’s not like I’m bleeding out or anything!”

Roman wrapped his arms around the other side, carefully hoisting him up, to carry him bridal style.

Janus couldn’t have cared less. The creative side was warm.

The serpent nuzzled into Roman’s chest, giving a little content puff of air.

He still felt like he was on fire with pain, but really, this wasn’t so bad. The snake-part of his brain had mostly taken over by now, basically telling him Warmth=safe & good.

But the rest of his brain hadn’t yet shut down. It gave him the suggestion to finally clear up a certain misunderstanding.

Tired from bloodloss and heat, his voice was a little slurred.

“‘m sorry for comparing you to Remus.”, he mumbled. Roman’s shoulders tensed, irritating Janus slightly. “You’re way better.”

The serpent nuzzled closer. “Way warmer.”

He fell asleep shortly after.

-

When Roman went to ask Logan for help with bandaging Janus, the logical side only looked at both sides, incredulously. 

“...you do remember we’re imaginary, correct? None of these injuries actually have any kind of impact on us.”

Janus sat up with a “I didn’t forget!”, all his injuries healed, his clothes clean and pristine, hat finally back on his head.

An embarrassed blush spread across his human cheek.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Falsehood.”, he simply stated before walking out.

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 14

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Leo's fear raises its head at the worst possible moment.

A/N: Finally some (slight) drama after I've drowned all of you in fluff in the previous chapters. Also, it was pretty exciting for me to finally get to explore Leo's studying life a bit more in this chapter.

I also want to take this opportunity to advertise a future fic of mine that I /hope/ to finish by the end of this week. The past week I've been working on a post ToN Caleo one-shot which is already over 4000 words long and at this point mainly needs some heavy editing to be posted. So stay tuned for that too if you like this ship!

Big big thanks to Cris for helping me a whole lot with this chapter! I really needed your science knowledge :’)

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! And remember that comments are the only reward I get so they would be much, much appreciated!!

Characters in this ch: Calypso, Leo. Jason, Percy, Annabeth

Words: 3000+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / next chapter / AO3

...

“Mister Valdez? Are you listening?”

Leo snapped out of his daze. He was at his engineering math class and for the past 15 minutes the professor had been explaining to the group a problem that had taken Leo about 2-3 minutes to solve. Usually he did something else while listening to his professors; finish more calculations (sometimes even ones they weren’t assigned to do), doodle blueprints and ideas for future inventions into his notebook, write down a new joke he had come up with, or text Jason that he was bored. Weirdly enough, doing all that other stuff helped him to focus on what was going on in the lecture.

However, this time his mind was elsewhere; it kept showing him images of a girl with shoulder length reddish brown hair, dark brown eyes that seemed a bit harsh at first but softened when she laughed at his joke, a couple of freckles on her light skin… He could also hear her laughter and smell the cinnamon scent that probably came from the shampoo she used in his head. The previous evening had gone so well but he had no idea what to make of it; even if he did like Calypso (which he wasn’t quite ready to admit yet), could anything ever happen? They were flatmates. Things would sure get complicated if they got together and then broke up and would barely stand each other’s company… Besides, who was to say she’d ever like him? Sure, sometimes she seemed amused by his jokes but what other reasons did he give for her to like him? Not much, he felt.

Leo started to get frustrated because he couldn’t get those thoughts out of his head and he might have started to growl to himself if the professor hadn’t called him at that exact moment.

“Yes?” Leo answered unsurely, not having heard what the professor had asked.

“Good. Then you can tell me what the solution to this problem is.” The professor pointed at the long and complicated looking problem on the whiteboard.

Leo sighed of relief on the inside. They were still talking about the same problem that he had solved over 10 minutes ago. He could do this.

“X is 3,65, Y is 5,51 and Z is 7,24,” he said, sounding almost bored.

“That is correct,” the professor said, badly hiding his surprise. He had thought this kid who seemed to be living in his dream world would be utterly confused by his question. He turned his attention back to the rest of the class and continued: “Of course, the easiest way to solve this equation is to divide X with… Yes, Mister Valdez?”

“Actually, I disagree,” Leo said, now completely awake. “Why would you divide it when you can…”

“Which one of us is the professor here, Mister Valdez?” the professor cut him off. “You may think you know how to do this but there are plenty of students here who aren’t quite as advanced and that’s why it’s better to show them one way to do it rather than to confuse them by....”

“Yeah, right, my bad,” Leo said sarcastically. “If these students are so simple minded, then why don’t you give them more practical problems to solve? You know, things we might actually need in the work life instead of… that,” he pointed at the whiteboard.

A couple of people were brave enough to nod and hum in agreement to Leo’s comments but there were also a few that started laughing.

“Alright, that’s it, Mister Valdez. Leave my class.”

Leo obeyed gladly (that class was such a waste of time anyway). He packed his things and headed out of the room, grinning widely as he left to let the professor know he hadn’t won that battle. It was almost lunch time so he decided to already go to the cafeteria to wait for Jason whose class wasn’t too far either.

About 15 minutes later Jason showed up, and to Leo's surprise he also had company. Percy Jackson did occasionally join them for a game night or a sparring session but Leo almost exclusively saw him outside the university. From what he knew Percy was currently focusing on his swimming career and wasn’t studying anything. Now he had however joined Jason for lunch and that made Leo wonder if there was some specific reason for that.

“Hey, man,” Jason greeted. “You’re early today. Are they having enchiladas or something?”

“Nah,” Leo shook his head. “I may have gotten kicked out of the class.”

“What did you do this time?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Nothing, really!” Leo exclaimed. Jason kept looking at him suspiciously, though, so he had to add eventually: “Fine, I may have disagreed with the professor about some of his methods, but really, that’s all. Didn’t blow up the lab or anything like that.”

“One time when I was in the high school I told the teacher his pants were unzipped and I wasn’t allowed to participate in his classes for a whole week after that. Didn’t miss much, though, he sucked as a teacher,” Percy joined the conversation.

“That’s exactly what I thought about this guy!” Leo said and gave Percy a high five. “Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you’d be in the pool at this hour.”

“Just checking the places,” Percy shrugged. Leo raised his eyebrow questioningly. “Fine, Annabeth thinks that at some point I should start thinking about my career after swimming so Jason said he could show me around today so I’d get an idea what it’s like here. Oh and, he promised me a free lunch.”

“Makes sense,” Leo said while already looking at the menu eagerly. “I’d come here for a free lunch too.”

“You pay for this one, though,” Percy pointed out.

“Back to the actual topic ,” Jason said, looking at Leo a bit worriedly. “You didn’t get into big trouble with that professor, did you?”

“I think he’ll go back to ignoring me again in the next class. “ Leo replied. “So no need to worry.”

“Good. It’s just that, after that last lab incident…” Jason started, referring to an incident that had happened in the previous semester, but Leo stopped him.

“I said no need to worry,” Leo said a bit louder. “I’ve got things sorted, OK? Just… let’s go to get that damn lunch now. Chili con carne, anyone?”

In reality, Leo knew that if he skipped one more lab class, the professors wouldn’t be that understanding. The saddest part about it was that he actually enjoyed the lab classes way more than the boring theory classes because there you got to try things out with your own hands, but… there was one big but. He couldn’t be there when…

“Leo?” he heard Jason’s voice somewhere nearby

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You were just totally zoned out, I was talking to you like a full minute and I don’t think you heard anything I said,” Jason pointed out.

“Oh, sorry. Lots going on in my mind. So, what did you say?” Leo asked.

“I was asking about when we should meet up on Saturday? I have soccer practice in the morning and Piper has a meeting with her theater group at 1 pm but we’re free after that.”

“I have to ask Cal but I think I can organize my work so I’d be free any time after 4 pm.”

“Alright, sounds fine to me,” Jason said, but Leo could sense that he was still wondering what had been bothering him that much.

“So who’s this Cal person?” Percy asked when the boys made it to the buffet tables.

“My new flatmate,” Leo said simply, currently more interested in filling his plate than elaborating on his living situation.

“OK. I was just wondering because Annabeth mentioned that she’d been at your place, and apparently she’d helped to give this flatmate of yours a makeover.”

“Oh, yeah!” Leo said, remembering that meeting quite vividly. “From what I’ve heard they’ve been hanging out quite a lot lately. That’s good because… well, she’s new here.” Leo was going to say that she doesn’t seem to have a lot of people in her life, but decided that he didn’t want to reveal too much to someone who had never even met her.

“Where is she from then?”

“I think she moved here from New York,” Leo said. “And she’s around your age. Who knows, you might even know her.”

“New York is a pretty big place,” Percy pointed out. “I guess Cal is a nickname? What’s her full name?”

Leo was going to answer when he spotted the chemistry lab professor in the crowd and he quickly hid behind Jason.

“Don’t let him see me,” Leo said hastily. “He’s gonna…”

Leo didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence when he heard the said professor say loudly: “Mister Valdez!”

Leo peeked from behind his friend.

“Hola, professor,” he said awkwardly. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Yes you did, you were just trying to hide from me. I wanted to remind you that today is the test day which is 60% of the mark. And that means that…”

“If I skip that test, I will fail the class,” Leo added, looking down at his feet. He didn’t remain like that long, though. “I’ll be there, professor.” He put up a brave face and saluted him as the professor just ‘hmmph’ed and turned away from me.

“I thought you said you have everything in order.” Jason raised his eyebrow once the boys had paid for their lunches and started to look for a table. “That didn’t seem like it.”

“Take care of your own business, Sparky,” Leo grunted and pointed at one empty table not far from them. “Let’s go there.”

“I’m serious, Leo,” Jason continued once they got seated. “Something is bothering you. We are your friends and we do care. You can trust us on this.”

Leo let Jason’s words sink in. Friends. Care. Trust. Since his mother died, he had always been the oddball, the outsider until he got a family who actually cared about him, Jo, Emmie and Georgie, but he still got a bit overwhelmed every time he realized that he really mattered to someone.

“Thanks, man.” Leo said finally. “I’ll… keep that in my mind. Promise.”

“Good.” Jason smiled at him encouragingly. “You can talk to us whenever you feel like it.”

After that the discussion moved to other things. Percy was hopeful that he was fit enough for a new record in his next competition and he didn’t forget to praise her little sister as well. Jason mentioned having seen his father at the campus but he had barely acknowledged his presence. Leo threw a few sarcastic comments here and there to let the others know he was listening. However, he had lost his appetite after hearing about the test. He had barely tasted his lunch and was now moving the rice back and forth on his plate as it got cooler. If the others noticed that, they didn’t say anything, probably thinking that it was better to let Leo open up on his own accord.

The lunch time flew by too fast for Leo’s liking. After separating from his friends he started heading towards the lab where most of the other students were already getting prepared. Taking a deep breath, he stepped in, hoping for the best.

The lab class started with a brief written test that made sure the students were ready for the practice part. This time would be particularly important, though, because it was testing them about pretty much everything they had learned so far in that class, and would be graded accordingly.

The written test caused no problem to Leo. He’d be able to name the lab tools by heart even in his sleep and the calculations weren’t much harder to him. However, he was already dreading the actual practice part for a very specific reason…

In the practice Leo would have to mix a few compounds together to get a chemical reaction. That was the simple part. But unfortunately for him, these said compounds would have to be heated in order for them to react. And of course you’d need a flame to do that. Now that was the hard part for Leo. He hated the gas burners and it had become a habit for him to skip a lab class when he knew they would be used. Unfortunately for him, that was fairly often because apparently the university’s heating plates were used by some other group at the same time, and that was also why he was about to fail this class. But if he could handle using the burner just this once, maybe he’d be fine… He knew he couldn’t afford to fail it because if he did, it might be a sign that he wouldn’t be able to do the job he was so excited about, and that would be a huge slap in his face. Maybe even bigger than he was ready to admit.

He measured the compounds and was ready to heat them when he noticed that a fellow student nearby had accidentally mistaken two of the compounds with each other, ruining the mixture. That gave him an idea.

“Pssst. I can mix a new one for you if you heat this for me.”

“What?” The other student looked at him with confusion. “Why would I do that?”

“I just told you. I can fix that for you.”

“You just want to flex with your skills, that’s all,” the guy said, knowing Leo’s reputation as the genius who however refused to join lab classes. Probably because he felt he was too good for them. “May I remind you that this is a solo practice!” the professor yelled from the front of the class. “No talking allowed.”

“Yes, professor,” Leo said quietly, but rolled his eyes at him when he turned his back. He read the instructions one more time to make sure he hadn’t missed anything and when he was double convinced that he was in the part that he had dreaded, he breathed sharply and picked up his gas burner and some matches. He felt his heart starting to race and his hands starting to shake as he took one match from the box and tried to light it.

He tried once. Twice. Took a deep breath and tried once more. At this point his hands were shaking so furiously that the match fell from his hand. Realizing that he still couldn’t do it, he made a frustrated groan, dropped the match box on the table and started shakily collecting his things.

“Mister Valdez? Did you finish your task?” The professor raised his gaze from his desk and focused on him. A few others turned to Leo’s direction as well.

“No, sir.”

“And why not?”

“I. can’t.” Leo said with a voice so deep and raw that you rarely got to hear it from him. He left his unfinished product on the professor’s desk. Then he threw his bag over his shoulder and doors banging left the class.

He didn’t make it far when he felt his knees going weak and he had to sit down on the closest chair, burying his face in his hands.

…

“Thanks so much for showing me that place! It feels so good to see some nature even this close to the city,” Calypso exclaimed happily to Annabeth as they were walking towards the dorms. Calypso loved nature and she didn’t really feel at home in the concrete jungle, hoping that one day she could afford to buy a house from the countryside. She had once mentioned that to Annabeth who also enjoyed adventuring in the less crowded areas and had promised to take Calypso to one of her favorite parks nearby. They both had had free time from their classes that afternoon so they had decided to take the advantage of that and go to explore a bit.

The park had been pretty, having a small river running through it and little trails circling the trees. Calypso, who had grown near the sea missed seeing bodies of water so even the river had made her feel a little less homesick. The girls had been there for a few hours, taking pictures and having a small picnic while talking about anything and everything that had come to their minds.

Now, unfortunately, it was time to return back to real life and the assignments that were waiting for them at home.

“No problem,” Annabeth replied to Calypso’s comment. “Honestly, I think this break was much needed. I do love architecture and history and all that but sometimes my ADHD kicks in and I just need to get out of the house.”

“Yeah, it helps to focus again afterwards,” Calypso agreed. “Hey, do you have anything special to do this weekend? Leo, I, Piper and Jason are supposed to have a video game night on Saturday and I thought I’d ask if you want to join. You can ask your boyfriend too if you want, of course! I’m sure Leo wouldn’t mind.”

“What time would it be?” Annabeth asked.

“I haven’t asked Leo yet but he does work on Saturdays so probably not very early. Sometime in the evening. I can inform you when I know more,” Calypso promised.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in my mind. My boyfriend has a swimming practice twice a day so he may not be able to join us but I might!”

“Great!”

The girls had reached the area where Calypso lived so they turned to their own directions.

“I’ll contact you!” Calypso said before Annabeth was too far to hear. She waved at her in response.

Calypso was still smiling when she entered her flat, but the smile soon melted from her face when she saw Leo hunched on the couch, looking utterly lost. Calypso approached him cautiously, asking: “What happened?”

Leo patted on the seat next to him, gesturing to her to join him on the couch. She did, but when he didn’t say anything for a while, though, Calypso decided to be bold and wrap her arm around his shoulder. Leo looked at her with dark eyes, still appreciating the gesture.

“I may have to start making new career plans.”

[starlightsearches]

Office Romance: Ch. 17 Predictions

General Hux and Kylo Ren have found themselves competing for the affection of a lieutenant aboard the Finalizer.

Series Warnings: Language, some violence, near-death experiences.

Masterlist

AN: Sorry this is late! I've been dealing with a lot of doubt—about my writing, this story, and general fears of disappointing people. I'm not saying this because I want any kind of validation or praise, I'm just trying to be more honest with people because I hope you all know that it's okay to feel these things, too. It's okay if you are having a hard time. Be kind to yourselves!

This is a Hux-heavy chapter, so sorry about that for all the Ren fans. He will be back soon. Warnings for general horniness and some angst, I guess? 

General Hux was beginning to understand why Irraide was a nocturnal society. The road through the capital city was a ghost town, the vendors along the side of the street shut tight, and there was no shade to be found anywhere as the two of you walked in search of your lodgings. The sun was unrepentant in its heat, beating down like it hated him in particular, and the feeling was mutual. If Hux had known that it was going to be this bad, he would have brought an umbrella.

“I think,” you said, stopping for a moment and fanning yourself with your hand,” the place we’re looking for is just up here on the right.” Your face was red and shiny with perspiration as you glared against the sun, trying to see into the distance, and Hux was sure he looked much worse. Maybe bringing you with him was a bad idea. You began moving again, determined to get out of the heat as quickly as possible.

The lobby of the hotel was cool and dark—an immediate improvement—and almost as empty as the street outside. It was a nice space, filled with low couches and metallic lanterns, none of which were lit. Hux wouldn’t have cared if it were some kind of trash-filled hovel. He was finally out of the sun. 

“Hello!” A voice called out from a desk near the door, and Hux made his approach towards the woman, who stood when you entered, flashing a forced smile. “You must be the Haws, welcome to Belarian, the crown jewel of Irraide,” she said as she shuffled through stacks of flimsi on the desk, searching for the correct documents, and handed the general a small key.

“You’ll find your lodgings on the highest floor. Lifts are down the hall and on your left. Festivities will begin tomorrow at moonrise. We hope you enjoy your stay!” She finished imparting the information and immediately sat back down, dropping the chipper persona. You looked to Hux, confusion written all over your face. She had only given you one key.

“I’m sorry but we had two rooms reserved,” you said gingerly, and the woman looked up again, annoyed.

“That’s impossible. There was only one room available when the reservation was made. You could try somewhere else.” She emphasized her disinterest by retrieving a data pad from the desk, raising it to a height that would block both of you from her view. You turned back to the general and shrugged your shoulders.

“I guess it’s fine,” you whispered, adjusting your bag and walking towards the lifts as the woman had directed. He may have been out of the sun, but General Hux was sweating once again. Now he really regretted bringing you with him; this whole situation was bound to be unprecedentedly awkward. The lift ride was quiet and short, and Hux had to stop himself from bouncing from foot to foot, full of nervous energy. You found your room without much trouble and, unable to avoid it any longer, Hux inserted the key and turned it in the lock, opening the door to the room you would be sharing.

“Huh,” you said as you entered, looking around the small space, “could be worse.” The room—like the lobby—was dark and cool, and fairly small. There was little in the way of furniture: a night stand with a lantern on it, and a small chest for clothing. Two doors sat on the other side of the room; he assumed one was for a closet and the other led to the refresher. Thick blue curtains covered what Hux guessed was a window, and matching fabric was draped over the bed. Singular. Shit.

“According to my data pad, moonrise should be happening in about seven hours, and we should probably rest,” you said, setting down your bag and finding a seat on the edge of the bed, “do you mind if I use the refresher first?” You looked up at him, apparently unphased by this turn of events, and Hux could only nod in response, his throat tight, and he waited as you walked through the door on the other end of the room, taking your bag with you before he dared to breathe again.

In an uncharacteristic display of anxiety, Hux found himself pacing across the small area of the room that was not taken up by the bed. He didn’t have many options, but he ran through each of them anyways, hoping to find a solution that wouldn’t end with him making a fool of himself. He could stay awake and let you rest. He’d gone without sleep for longer periods of time, but he couldn’t deny the exhaustion already sitting heavy on his shoulders. He had been tired before, certainly, but the heat had made it worse, and he needed to be at his best if he was going to eliminate the target as planned. He could try to find somewhere else, but it was unlikely anything would be available, and it would mean going back out into the hellish sunshine. 

He’d sleep on the floor. That would be the best option; allow him to rest without forcing any kind of discomfort on himself or on you. 

“All done,” the refresher door opened, and you walked back into the room, hair falling wet over one of the shoulders of the black shirt you had been given to sleep in. Your legs were covered as well, and probably for the best, although Hux was curious to see what other marks Ren and his Knights had left. Maybe the anger it would cause would wipe away some of his discomfort. “It’s all yours.”

Hux made his way to the refresher, trying to calm himself with some deep breathing. He shouldn’t be panicking this much. It was just a regular mission. You were just another subordinate. Except that it wasn’t. And you weren’t.

He turned on the sanisteam, leaving the water cold, and then stepped into the stream, letting it fall against his face and hoping it would wash away more than just the sweat and grime of travel. He wouldn’t think of you, sitting on the bed, stretched out over the covers, waiting for him. He wouldn’t think about that. He would think about something else. Literally anything else. Protocol droids. The plans for Starkiller Base. The exact steps he would take to assemble and disassemble his blaster rifle. None of it worked. You stayed on his mind.

After an unprecedentedly long time, Hux finally emerged from the refresher, finding you exactly as he had imagined you would look: stretched out on one side of the bed, scrolling absentmindedly through something on your data pad. You glanced at him quickly, before returning your eyes to the screen. He still couldn’t understand how none of this bothered you. Hux shuffled awkwardly to the edge of the bed and pulled a pillow off in a fist before dropping it on the ground. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, looking up at him with curious eyes. Hux did not want to explain himself, but he knew he couldn’t avoid it.

“You can take the bed, Lieutenant,” he said, and you rolled your eyes, crawling across the mattress towards him. You moved into a sitting position, folding your legs over each other and supporting your head with one fist. Apparently Hux wasn’t going to get away with his plan without some kind of pushback.

“General, there’s plenty of room for two of us here, and I don’t mind sharing,” you began, “but if that would bother you, then I should be the one to sleep on the floor. Since you’ll be doing most of the work tomorrow.” There’s a stubborn set to your brow, and Hux paused, unsure how to respond. He wasn’t going to force you onto the floor for his sake, but he also didn’t want to argue with you about the pros and cons of sharing. You could see his resolve crumbling, and you moved back to the other side of the bed, patting it with one hand. An invitation.

“If you’re sure it’s not an issue,” he said, placing the pillow back on the mattress and laying down. The bed was large enough that he could rest comfortably without touching you, or even coming close, thankfully, but he’s not willing to relax just yet. Satisfied, you lay back on top of the blanket, closing your eyes. The room was warm enough still that you could sleep above the covers, and he’s glad because there’s already an acute sense of claustrophobia sharing a space like this.

Hux knew that he should rest, but he found himself looking at you instead. You were asleep, or at least it looked like you were—your face relaxed an untroubled, one arm resting across your abdomen, rising and falling with your slow deep breaths. Hux has never been able to fall asleep that easily, but he’s not surprised that you could; you had a right to be tired after everything you’d been dealing with. Seeing you this way allowed him to relax as well, and he's lost in thought, drifting in and out of consciousness.

Why was he so afraid of this? Not just this but being with you in any capacity. It’s not like there hadn’t been other women, although that had been a very long time ago, when he was younger—and those had been transactional, business-like experiences. He had never shared a bed with someone before. 

For the first time, Hux was forced to confront his feelings for you head-on. Admiring you from afar was one thing, and working with you was another, but this, this was different. This was sacred. Hux had never been comfortable with the idea of love. It always felt . . . manipulative. Anyone who had showed any kind of care for him always wanted something from him. And now that he’s this close to something that could be love . . . what if he ruined it? What if he lost it? He had always known that it was possible that you didn’t feel the same way, but now he has to wonder what that rejection would do to him. How would he come back from it.

None of these thoughts were easy, but the discomfort was distant, blurred by the haze of sleep. These, Hux thought, were problems for another time. For now, he needed to rest. 

As much as you hated it in the beginning, you had to admit that Irraide was beautiful, once the sun had gone down. You woke up just in time to watch the it set outside the window of your room, filling you with a glittering excitement, and then you and the general were off to participate in the festivities before carrying out your plan of attack.

The night was cool on your skin, and a breeze blew by, raising goosebumps on your arms as you exited the hotel. The dress that had been provided to you was long and loose, covering your arms and legs, but the material was thin and fluttered in the wind, pushing its way up against your skin and wrapping around your legs.  All around you, the streets were filled with people, all looking as eager and excited as you felt. You and the general merged with the group, headed to the city’s main thoroughfare, where the real party was taking place.

The street was lined with lanterns that guided the way deeper into the city, and as you walked the buildings grew taller and more elaborate. You lifted your gaze skyward, staring at the structures as they reached towards the moon. The whole galaxy, all the stars in the system, were made invisible by its light, impossibly bright and bathing the everything below in a golden glow. You wanted this memory burned into your mind, and you drank in every detail, so focused that you lost your footing, stumbling over the uneven streets and knocking into the man ahead of you. You righted yourself, flashing an embarrassed look at the general, and he reached out to you, gingerly sneaking a hand around your waist.

“Don’t worry dear,” he said, “ I’ll watch where we're going.” You froze for a moment, before you remembered. You were engaged. Well, Valbry was engaged, and you were supposed to be her. Normally, you took pride in your acting abilities, but there was something about the way the general’s hand pressed into your side that made you feel too much like yourself—almost exposed somehow, and you could no longer focus on the beautiful sights around you, totally present.

Hux’s hand slipped gently away from you, and you looked up at him. He’s concerned, you could see, but you shook your head minutely, moving closer into the crook of his arm. You could do this. It was all an act. Part of a disguise, just another mission. So why was your heart racing?

You adjusted to the feeling of being Valbry, and the gentle pressure of the general’s body against yours, as you approached the center of the city. The walkway was lined with living statues, real people dripping in gold, grouped together on pedestals and depicting stories and people you had never heard of: Soz Granting the Final Wish, Kendra and Her Sword, The Attack of Gris and His Nine. Similarly painted people were moving through the crowd handing out small golden circlets to the guests.

“For you,” one said, as she approached, forcing a small golden band into your hand, “Soz honors all her daughters!” You admired the thin golden crown for a moment before placing it on your head, where it rested, surprisingly heavy.

“How do I look?” you asked, turning to the general with a flirtatious smile.

“Regal,” he responded, but you didn’t think he was acting. And the blush that spread over your face wasn’t an act either.

The festival was, in a word, dreamlike, like your feet barely touched the ground as you and the general wandered through the many streets. There were dancers, plays, street-performers and magicians everywhere you looked, each act more incredible than the last, and the food—you had never tasted anything like it. The meals on the Finalizer were fine, but now you were sure everything you ate from this point on would taste like dirt in comparison, and you sampled everything that you saw.

The night drew longer, and you began to feel the ache in your legs and your feet. Sensing your discomfort, Hux decided that you should split up, as he went in search of some fantastic smelling dessert you had seen another couple devouring, and you stayed in a little courtyard, resting your legs. It was a small area, about half the size of the hotel room you were staying in, and almost completely obscured from the main road by large, wild plants with leaves that rustled against each other despite the stillness of the air. 

You adjusted your shoes, wincing as they rubbed against the blisters you were sure had already formed, when you heard the sound of footsteps enter the small space.

“That was fast,” you said, looking up, but it was not the general in front of you. The woman who had entered stayed silent, studying you with a small frown.

“Hello child,” she said as she approached. Her skin was tan and smooth, and dotted with freckles, but despite her youthful appearance, you got the feeling that she was much older than she looked. Her form was covered completely in a dress made of thick silver fabric that shrouded her shape, but the way she moved spoke to power and strength. These details you took in with only passing interest; her eyes were certainly the most striking feature. Each was decorated with a painted design, three prongs slashed over her skin like rays of light, the left in white, and the right in black, which mirrored her actual eyes. One was entirely dark, and the other milky. You weren’t sure if she could see out of either of them.

“May I sit?” she asked, staring at you unblinking, and you nodded before you considered her possible blindness. Apparently she could see, because she joined you on the bench, resting her hands behind her and leaning back.

“Who are you?” you asked, studying her as her gaze flitted around the courtyard. You tried to decide if she was a threat, but there was something about her that defied any attempt you might make to define her. It left you stunned.

“I am a priestess,” she responded with a voice like water, “for the goddess Soz. And I am here to impart on you a wish.” The prospect sounded exciting, but you hesitated. Could you trust her? You still couldn’t say, but you leaned in. It wouldn’t hurt to stay for a little longer.

“What can I wish for?” You wanted to hear her speak again, hoping she would look at you again with those strange eyes. 

“You don’t wish for anything,” she replied, “I will give you what you need.” 

“What I need?” As far as you knew, you didn’t really need anything in the moment, except for maybe better shoes.

“What we all need,” she said, raising one eyebrow for emphasis, the white lines of face paint stretching, and for a moment, they looked like scars.

“I don’t understand.” Annoyance flared up in your mind cutting through the fog of her power; she was purposefully speaking in circles, trying to confuse you.

“I am offering you knowledge,” she said, “as a gift. No payment.”

“I think I’m alright,” you said, moving to leave the courtyard. Talk of payment made you nervous, even if she said it wasn’t necessary “I don’t believe in fortune-tellers.”

“But you believe in the force?” she asked, and you froze, every alarm system in your body screaming. How did she know? “I can sense that you do. Come sit with me, and I will tell you something. You have an important decision to make.” You had no idea what she was talking about, but now you had to know. If you left, it would certainly drive you insane.

“What decision?” you asked, and she reached for your hand. Her skin was cold against your own, so cold that you tried to pull away but her grip was strong as she stared straight ahead, as if she could see something in the distance that you could not.

“I cannot tell you that, but you will know soon enough.” Her response had you irritated all over again, and you tried to stand but she held you in place.

“Here is what I can tell you,” she said, looking at you once again, and you could see yourself reflected in both her eyes, “there are more choices than you might think. It is not always one or the other. Do not act rashly.” Her grip loosened on your fingers, left bloodless and buzzing from the strength of her hold, and you shook your hand out, trying to restore some of the feeling. When you looked up, she was already gone.

The alcove was empty once again, but there’s a strange feeling sitting with you now, like the place had been tainted—like it’s unsafe to stay there. You stood from the bench, hurrying out of the space and back into the crowded street, breathing a sigh of relief, but the fear still clung to you like a virus. The feeling dissipated a little when you see Hux approaching.

“Hello again,” you said, taking one of his arms in yours. Part of it was for the act, but you’re grateful that you were together again. You didn’t want to be alone anymore after such a strange encounter. “Any luck?” He smiled gently, shrugging.

“Couldn’t find it anywhere, but that’s probably for the best,” he said, leading you back the way you had come, “I think it’s time for us to be headed home.” You had hardly noticed before, but the sun was once again rising, glimmers of bright light streaking up through the night sky. It was time.

Tags: @acunningstargazer​, @itsa-pseudonym, @ddaeing, @dark-night-sky-99, @i-jus-wanna-writehappy​, @fresa-luna, @leiadelreyy, @averillian, @sunbanna

[yentotajaan]

Repercussions: Prey

Much to Yen’to’s chagrin, Khan was already present in tea house library, reeking of alcohol as usual, and talking with Alyona. He had hoped to have a few moments of quiet before the mission started. But... I am never that lucky, am I? He struggled to keep up between Khan’s boisterous blubbering and Aly’s rambling stream of thought. Temporary relief came with the arrival of Strega, followed shortly by Ramius. Hm... almost everyone from the first mission. I guess we are all gluttons for punishment. Without further ado, Khan slurred on with the briefing. I swear, he would die if he went longer than a bell without liqour.

A string of disappearances had begun over a sennight ago, across multiple places around Eorzea. It began with the odd farmer, begger, and street rat. However, more recently adventurers also started going missing; some while looking into the mystery yet others were simply random. The Alliance of Free Companies was stretched thin and could not spare enough effort for the investigation, and so had put out a request for adventurers discover the cause so they can then send in soldiers as needed. A bit grander than I expected, but beats trying to pretend to be a prisoner. This should be rather straightforward. The only clue was that some recent disappearances had all occurred at a remote village in the middle of nowhere - specifically a chapel where adventurers had stopped for rest. With missing person poster bills in hand, the small band headed off.

Upon arriving at the village, Yen’to noted that it was even more destitute than expected. Some building were still in ruin from the Calamity, and recovery efforts looked haphazard at best. As they wandered through the streets, most of the residents averted their gaze. The party did, however, manage to get the attention of a rambunctiously playing child. Her mother came up shortly after, a bit of bluffing from Ramius managed to squeeze out enough information that confirmed the church should be their next destination. Gods, by her demeanor one would think talking to us was almost a death sentence. Do they not expect us to stay long?

One of the nuns outside stopped the group as they approached, cautiously asking what they needed. Apparently for Strega, she needed to use the little ladies room. Seriously? That is what is important right now?! Ramius quickly course corrected, finally getting the nun to direct them inside to talk with the bishop (alongside other relief). After casually making their way inside the small church, the group let Yen’to take the lead this time while Ramius and Strega watched the door. What makes them think I am good at bluffing? My lying performance at the Castrum job was horrible! Well... can’t back out now without looking suspicious. Strega reiterated the point about needing the little ladies room.

The bishop was much less hesitant than the other townsfolk. But his words were tinged with sadness, regret, and... something else. The tone was setting Yen’to’s nerves on edge. His anxiety quickly spiked when the bishop talked of visitors in black and red uniforms delivered supplies. Wait... black and red? Aren’t those Garl—? Yen’to’s thoughts were cut short when the bishop slipped on gas filtering mask and pulled a nearby lever. He  barely managed to take a few steps before collapsing to the floor in a deep stupor. Going... to.... kill... Khan...

With a start, Yen’to found himself awakened in a place that looked somewhat like the Shroud, but felt... off. The others were all there too, no worse for wear - even Strega’s bladder. Strangely for being captured, they all had their armor and equipment, and were not shackled. Grunting as he clambered noisily to his feet, Yen’to was eventually able to get a better look around. The ground was covered in spotty grass, and the trees were sparse. Wait... this is not really the Shroud. Where in the hells are we? As Yen’to looked up to the sky, instead he saw a cermet ceiling. As if in answer to his question, a voice blared over a loudspeaker. A chillingly familiar voice.

By the Twelve - is that Tribunus Lucian? From the Castrum we blew up nearly with him in it?! Aly, Strega, Yen’to, and Ramius all exchanged looks with each other, recognition occurring nearly simultaneously. Lucian claimed that the current batch of participants was poor sport, and they needed to do better or he would attend to the combat himself. Combat? What combat? The group barely had time to collect their thoughts before the answer became clear, and were under assault by a hail of arrows.

After running for the nearest cover, a voice in the distance rang out, “You lot need to hurry up and die, or we won’t get to go home!” Ramius called out to them to stand down. The men claimed to be from Ala Mhigo, and that they were all trapped here unless they killed enough others.  Mad with desperation, the archer would have none of it, and ordered everyone to attack.

Ramius was the quickest to respond, shooting the archer clean through the head with his machinist rifle. Yen’to readily subdued the swordsman, knocking the man’s shield aside with his giant axe before following up with a nonfatal blow to the head that knocked him unconscious. Aly had it worst, taking a spear to her shoulder as she desperately tried talking her opponent into surrendering. Strega somehow simply convinced her opponent into giving up, and the lancer followed suit and stepped back away from Aly after seeing his allies defeated. How does she do that every time? At least only one of them was killed... none of us wanted to be fighting Ala Mhigans in a Garlean facility.

A back and forth exchange followed the cease fire, with the Ala Mhigans claiming that escape without following the rules was impossible. They had even tried teaming up with others before, but it all ended with backstabbing and betrayal as everyone eventually splintered off to fend for themselves. They almost seemed ready to join Yen’to’s not-so-merry band before a burst of magitek armor gunfire came from behind and blasted the remaining Ala Mhigans to shreds.

Upon turning around, the sight of Lucian in a flying suit magitek armor sent a chill down Yen’to’s spine. He cackled maniacally upon seeing the group, instantly recognizing them from the Castrum disaster. Rather than angry, he appeared murderously gleeful at the prospect of hunting foes who had bested him before. Ramius was not one for monologuing, and unleashed a barrage of bullets, which prompted Lucian to respond with bursts from his magitek cannon that sent Yen’to flying. Gods damn it-- every time!

Lucian did not want to end the hunt so soon, so he moved out of range and demanded they give him a good show. Almost in sync, the sound a lift engaging caught Yen’to’s ears - as well as the baying of war hounds. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one of the Ala Mhigans still clinging to life and murmuring something to Strega before finally passing from his wounds. Strega had an eerily neutral expression on her face as she calmly repeated the words - ‘find the waterfall and the red marks upon it’.

With a direction now in mind, the party scrambled upriver as the sounds of hounds closed in behind them. Yen’to could also make out the sounds of cannon fire and explosions. Is he.... is he hunting his own hunting dogs? The Garlean is insane! With Lucian temporarily distracted, the group managed to make their way to a small waterfall. Behind it, Ramius spotted a boulder with red markings -- blood. Working together, they managed to pull it aside and scramble into a small cave before rolling the boulder back in place just as Lucian came flying, screaming insanely about how he would eventually find them.

Yen’to and Aly collapsed onto the cold, stony floor. Strega unfurled blanket and began preparing some healing solutions while Ramius kept an eye out through a crack in the entrance. Yen’to was not paying too much attention to what Strega was going, his eyes instead wandering to take stock of their safe haven. There were strange carvings on the wall, similar to carvings around Ala Mhigo. With a yelp of pain, Yen’to was brought back into focus as Strega’s magitek contraption stabbed something into him. A little warning would have been nice! But... the pain is starting to subside. Strega treated Aly in a similar manner, closing up the wound caused earlier by the spear.

While recovering from their injuries, they heard a voice approaching their location. As it got closer, they could make out a technician making notes and observations of the artificial battlefield’s carnage. A brief and hushed discussion ensured, and they agreed on a plan to move the rock and take the technician by surprise. The boulder was moved ever so carefully out of the way, and one by one they slipped through to position themselves to ambush the Garlean.

Ramius was quickest on the draw, literally, and had the man at gunpoint before he knew what was happening. Judging from the face and sounds he just made, it is a good thing he is wearing dark pants. The man begged to be let go, that he was just doing his job and that documenting the deaths of savages was nothing personal. His choice words did not help his case, but they all managed to hold their tempers long enough to get some concessions out of him.

As was plain by now, the Garleans were to blame for the kidnappings. Tribunus Lucian was taking random subjects for testing, but also apparently to satisfy his personal desire for hunting. They delivered food and supplies to the ruined village as a front for their activities. Lucian had been both impressed and perturbed that their infiltration mission had ruined his Castrum. Aly’s enthusiastic comment about finally having a recurring villain to fight did nothing to help Yen’to’s nerves. This is not some story book! I swear to the Twelve, if I die here I am killing Khan!

They debated amongst themselves on the best course of action. Strega wanted to sabotage the place. Aly wanted to rescue everyone and Ramius wanted to blow it out of existence. Yen’to simply wanted to get out alive. In the end, they were running out of time and had little choice but to force the technician to fly them back to the village so that they could then inform the Alliance to rescue the trapped and unwilling combatants.

The scene upon arriving back at the village was.... surprising, to say the least. Khan was kicking a poor tied up Garlean soldier, demanding to know where his charges had disappeared off to. Various soldiers from the Maelstrom, Twin Adders, and Immortal Flames were interrogating other groups of tied up prisoners. Yen’to was almost impressed at Khan actually doing something responsible. So he can actually get things done. I guess that is why he is able to come across all these mission postings. Well, that, and he keeps hiring us to actually complete them for him.

The haggard, exhausted team dutifully informed Khan and the Alliance of all that occurred. They were assured that the installation would be destroyed that and all prisoners would be rescued from the cruel experiment. Relieved, but exhausted, Yen’to began the long trip back home. Strega began the search for the little ladies room.

Somehow, no matter how wrong these missions go... they are still better than my shifts on Tea Time night

https://yentotajaan.tumblr.com/post/634247844314906624/yento-arrived-at-the-long-forgotten-village-in

@tough-bit-of-fluff

@ramius-xiv

[talesofealdancynedom]

princess Odette Craweleoth; After going dark.

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 6 - The Future Holds 6/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

none

Near the end of winter, Murdoc Monafyra arrived with his panther familiar Stearra. He wore black wolf kingdom robes, and seemed to be in a state of serenity. He stood before the royal family with words of warning. Meriam was happy to see him, for when they last met, he was but a boy aspiring to be a seer mage. And now he as a young man that looked so much like his father.

“What brings you to our halls Murdoc, son of Helrem?” Meriam asked.

“I come to tell you my father is an idiot. And brother Tiberius Blacstorm has returned to Pepperidge, in your kingdom, and built a gate. It has a large ominous black tower, made of marble from those mountains, and the new magic forest scares the merchants.” Murdoc said in a rough low voice. He was chewing his unlit pipe, and seemed to be combing his mind. “Ah, yes. I am also to tell you my father is dead, gave the instructions for wands to Tiberius, to distribute at the trading post. These commoners of magic houses who learn father’s way of magic call themselves ‘Wizards’, and hate us mages. Murderous intent in the lot of them; as you probably feared my lady. Saw some popping up here, with political opinions and such. Better have your guard up. They think we’re dangerous and wield uncontrollable power of peril; suggesting that because common folk can learn magic, civilization has no need for mages. As if we care about common parliament, and not all aspire to be but hermits befriending fey.” Murdoc went on. Meriam looked markedly unamused. In fact, the whole room read like a disappointed audience to an improv skit. Meriam gestured for Murdoc to go on; if he still standing there, he had more to say.

“As you are aware master Craweleoth, killing mages will not do anything. A certain percent of magic housed people will be mages; or talented wizards now, I guess.” He coughed. A mortifying fear strung through Meriam: Her assumptions were correct. Her nephew Eatheltwein, and her daughter, were confirmed mages. It’s was pure chance; and now people who irresponsibly use magic, intend to kill them.

Meriam, in the middle of the main hall, went dark, causing her daughter and nephew, who were innocently beside her, to go dark as well. The flow of magic can thin the veils, making a dark state contagious to those in magic houses. If everyone else hadn’t leapt back, they would have had the same fate. Murdoc would be gone by dawn, while everyone lay sick with blood loss and fever from magic ripping through their bones between veils.

           Meriam recovered quickly, as she had gone dark many times before. She could control it and knew her limits. But when people first experience the ether rush threw them, their bodies are less resistant to damage; The new sensation overwhelming them, as they do not yet know how to harness so much magic. Random spells can be cast around them, as they glow and cast until they are too weak to stand. Meriam, in all her experience, knew how to remedy the bleeding, fever, and weakness after such an ordeal. She took turns visiting her nephew and daughter, to make sure they recovered.

While Odette recovered, she asked to be laid in a large chair looking out her window. Her Bedroom balcony had a view of the courtyard fountain. She sat alone singing quietly. While Eatheltwein, struggled to regain strength, he lay unmoving in bed. Meriam went to bring him food, when she noticed the king was by his side.

“Good, you’re awake, Eathel-” Meriam said.

“Uncle wants to have me, and Odette, married.” Eathel interrupted. Meriam became furious. Her children were only now recovering and adjusting, were secretly mages with their lives threatened, and there was talk of betrothal. Meriam had been wed for politics against her autonomy, and no child of hers was going to be subjected to the same fate. Her happy union was but a fluke.

“Our children lay sick, and we fear for the world of magic, and you want to have weddings? Eatheltwein and Odette are not pawns, they are children! Furthermore, the only unwed royal I know is Edmond of the Far North, and he has seen twenty more autumns then our twelve-year-old daughter. A man of his status in these times would have at least three bastards.” Meriam snapped. Dropping the dishes.

“We have friends in three nations; we have only to send letters. Yet, I agree we should remove Edmond from the list…” the king said. “Maybe he’s still brooding, and already wed to his job.”

“I’m going to marry a noble lady form a far-off land.” Eathel mused in a quiet tiered voice. He stared into the ceiling longingly. “Bless I may wake in the dawn, to hear that she is from Daneia…” He continued.

“How much blood did he loose?” The king asked in bewilderment.

“Bold of you to assume he lost the blood.” Meriam scoffed. “All this talk about girls around a young man, could make him mad. Eathel may follow his heart, as mages fall easily in love, and love is the most powerful magic. Just the type of magic this world needs most. We will wait a little longer for our daughter; Any man interested in a girl her age should be castrated.”

“Mages? Do you mean to say that Eatheltwein is a mage? Is he in danger from those malicious emerging wizards Merry?”

“Yes.” Meriam said. “Helrem may be an idiot, but he made wands for commoners to love magic. However, mages can’t use wands; our magic is different. Though perhaps, if we give Eathel a wand that a mage can use, and the people will think he’s a saviour. A ‘talented wizard.’ if you will. Maybe one for Odette as well; I see her talk to, and charm, the fey. Only mages can charm.” Meriam said, taking a seat on the other side of Eatheltwein’s bed. The king was nearly in tears. His entire family was on the chopping block.

“Darling, there may be a solution: Tiberius may have one to lend, or at least Helrem’s notes on how to make one. I will go to his gate tomorrow.” Meriam said. Desperately trying to comfort her husband and herself. She didn’t want o leave her ill family so soon, but Murdoc’s words filled her with urgency and fear. Eatheltwein had fallen asleep, with the cold press sliding down his face, and holding his king uncle’s hand. Even in illness, he was still full of that sunshine that Meriam loved so much.

           Meriam fed Odette breakfast, well sharing her plan. She was to leave shortly, and did not want Odette to become spooked by Murdoc’s words. She deserved to know. Odette’s new platinum hair and icy eyes made her look like snow. It was a striking change of colours. Meriam enjoyed that Odette looked like she did in her youth; bronze-gold locks and olive eyes upon a freckled canvas. But now something seemed off about her little princess. Not just her appearance.

“I hope Tiberius can help.” Odette said. She gazed out the window. “I’m not scared of those wizards, mom; I’m scared dad wants to give me away to an unfit duke. I’m having fun, and we all love each other; I don’t want some boy ruining it.” She pouted.

“Well, I’ll be sure to stop that from happening. By the way Odette, why do you always look out the balcony? What in our courtyard makes you leave the windows open?” Meriam asked, kissing her girl’s forehead. She was still a bit warm with fever.

“There is a handsome nobleman who I like better, who listens to my song; he visits some days. Unlike me though, he can fly away from the restraints of a palace, and the control of others. I want to fly, sing, and see beyond this palace too. Like all the birds who talk in this city.” Odette mused. Meriam held her breath. She would pass through the shadow veil to Tiberius gate to get Eatheltwein a wand, and she would pass through the Raven Kingdom. Meriam was curious if the Raven King may have become infatuated with her daughter, and being a bad influence. But then again, if Odette happily found true love, and supported a kingdom of fey by becoming a Beast Queen, she would be safe from the wizards. As commoners, they cannot reach her, as a free bird in the shadow veil. Meriam hugged her daughter, then her nephew, then her husband goodbye before she left on her brief quest; They must all know she loves them. Less she never returns, or they are not there when she returns.

           In the shadow veil, Meriam walked into the raven kingdom. Black and white, but illuminated by the colours of various avian fey. Golden gryphons who napped on rocks, and opalescent thunderbirds playing in the clouds. Only here, was the singing of birds heard in the silence of the shadow veil. For only magic can stimulate the senses here. Deep in the raven kingdom woods, Meriam heard an off-tune crackling hum come from a twisted tall tree in a clearing. As she approached, it became apparent the tree was laced in magnificently lustrous trash. It was strategically hung to reflect light, like the facets of a lapidary’s finest work. Near the mid of the tree, Meriam saw the Raven King in human form, tying a string of sparkling garbage, to what appeared to be a giant nearly completed nest.

“Raven King? Have you been visiting my daughter?” Meriam asked calmly. She was not calm. “She’s a bit young; You wouldn’t mind waiting a little longer would you? To see if she requites your love, I mean.”

“Love never waits.” He cawed, before gestured to his work. “What do you think Meriam!?” The Raven King chirped before the dazzling tree. Meriam clapped for a brief applause, causing the Raven King to smile. She did think it looked smashing.

“She loves to fly, and speaks fondly of you. I suppose it is better then being married off like me. Commoners mean to kill mages, and it makes me fear for her safety. If you love her, make my baby happy, and safe.” Meriam said. Her voice cracked with sadness as she pushed down her wave of emotions, and thoughts. The Raven King swopped down, and hugged Meriam in the clearing, as if to convey that it would be his honour. And when Meriam began to sob, he let her cry. She wanted to stop time, but knew it would always need to resume. More time with her children, more time to prepare for change.

           Tiberius’s gate was impressive. Tiberius had become a talented warlock and artist. When Meriam arrived in the center of the gate, she was greeted by a toddler who started giving her random objects. Then Tiberius came, picked up the girl, and bowed.

“Hello your majesty! What can I do for you? Need a tour? Tell me to stay away from the commoners perhaps? Maybe a nicer sword then the one Helrem made for your husband? Which I see you wield instead…” Tiberius rambled. “This is my daughter Fyra, by the way. Her mom left, but we’re still here. Happy magic family in my peaceful mystical forest.”

“Helrem had a wand of twisted white and violet glass, that could be used by a mage. I need one like that. The commoners who are becoming wizards, from Helrem’s publications, are becoming murderous like scared trolls. I need one to convince people a specific mage, is actually a wizard; for political and magic peace of course.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t know how to make one.” Tiberius said casually. Meriam grimaced. She was having a bad day. Actually, a lot of her days seemed to be non ideal recently. But she was too much of a coward to go back in time to fix things, because it could always get worse. Meriam looked into Tiberius’s hazel eyes with the glare of tiger about to pounce. Tiberius became pale.

“I have his notes! Yes, instructions!” Tiberius yelled. “I have quite the empty shelf space in the walls of this here tower. My inspiration for this gate was: ‘Wow’, with a touch of ‘why?’. But half way through, I realized the black marble made a much different statement; should’ve just alchemised the structure, instead of singing it into place.” Tiberius began to rant. Then he saw Meriam begin to slowly move forward with the same glare.

“Enough of that then! You can skip on home to the palace now, and I’ll make you a mage pen quick and proper miss; I’ll mail it straight to the palace! No payment, no questions, and no worries!” He winced.

“Thankyou.” Meriam eased back. “And in my opinion, I love our lands black marble; I love black. I don’t think you should care what statement your big black magic tower makes.” Meriam said, patting Tiberius and shoulder. He glowed with pride.

           A week later, in the palace, Eatheltwein’s wand arrived. It was made of brass, and engraved with a gryphon for house Cynedom. Eathel gave it a whirl, and spent the mourning doing magic with it. He almost lit the kitchen on fire, and flooded the laundry room. Meanwhile, Meriam sat in the courtyard, enjoying the crisp new spring. She was wearing her under garments, while fixing some old clothes to suit the times better. She kept a close watch over Odette, who sang at the fountain edge for the golden geese, who honked with applause. Odette didn’t emote much, which made her smiles all the more precious. The King on the other hand, was greeting Edmond in the dining hall. He came with a peace declaration, as an excuse to visit Anglia.  It felt warm to him. After politics was discussed, and cups tipped to peace, Edmond asked to see Eathletwein. The King gladly escorted Edmond to the courtyard to see Eathel casting water for the tulips, with sweetmeat and bread hanging out of his mouth. Edmond gave a hearty cheerful laugh, and went in to tightly embrace Eathel. Edmond seemed happy, and at peace. Meriam had left him a lonely man, and now he was a king who had retired from being a paladin mage. He was a whole new person.

“I look forward to our alliance. As next in line, I had to meet you Eatheltwein Cynedom. What tool is that you hold?”

“It’s a wand; invented by a mage of your kingdom, in the Far North. It’s to allow any who love magic to be one with it.” Eathel smiled. He had never met Edmond, or heard of the sins towards fey and men, this king had committed; he was happy to meet a new friend. His gleaming innocence made Edmond feel even warmer.

Eatheltwein patted a stone bench by the tulips, so they could sit. It felt good to take a good sturdy seat after a long journey; or just a few hours running around a yard. The king sat next to Meriam, his beloved wife, and also intently watched their precious heirs.

“When you become a king, what do you want for Anglia?” Edmond asked, taking in the crisp dewy noon. The joy water Etheltwein casted, made the tree children smell like a lush greenhouse.

“I want a time without war, and warm summers. I want my people to be more involved with what happens in my land. They have put forth a court of men for me, to speak on their behalf; their novel input has led to innovation and wealth for my people.” Edmond Explained.

“I want Anglia to be called the Grand West, and be friends with everyone; including Francia.” Eatheltwein chirped. He caught his familiar, Viola, in his hand, and kissed her. Edmond remembered he had a familiar once, a black grizzly, of who he missed. He was an adaptive, fierce and hearty beast. Edmond wondered what that said about him; If familiar reflect their master’s inner nature. In contrast, Eatheltwein’s golden canary was small and cheerful.

“Are you sad, Lord Edmond?” Eatheltwein asked.

“Sometimes.” Edmond said. “Hmm. Your plans for the future of ‘The Grand West’, sound lovely. I think we could all use a lot more friendship and love. The most powerful type of magic in our realm. Yet, I am curious; Why do you wish to change your kingdom’s name? There is no change to its size, nor government.”

“Because calling lands by their linguistic, and thus ethnic identities, separates them. Each land has different peoples, but every land has the same North, East, South and West. Like the table of fours. I don’t want us to see each other as strangers. I want us to be together.” Eathel said, petting Viola. Edmond admitted, that sounded nice, if not impossible. To have everyone to focus on each other as people instead of independent opposing nations; Including Francia. As spring approached, Francia would resume annexing foreign land at its boarders, to feed its starving people. Edmond could not imagine a world without conflict.

“That’s is a big plan. People are divided over land, and now we become divided over who can wield magic. This world will not have balance so easily.”

“I contest; I have read many of my aunt’s journals. They tell stories about people, even in the farthest lands, that deep down, realize the comfort of a good friend. Between fey, men, or nations; the dust will settle if we are kind.” Eathletwein said. He was watching Odette try to jump and fly after the geese. It gave everyone a laugh. Her light blue dress that was embroidered with wings, and her ethereal paleness made her almost like a swan. Everything in that moment, though providing light, felt a little like a lie. Beyond the courtyard, there was poverty, starvation, unpunished war crimes, and now wizards killing innocent mages and fey.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

The Guilt Imprisonment - Chapter 01

Summary : "Guilt really was an awful feeling. Lurking in the darkness, always waiting for the worst moment to attack its host, this terrifying emotion could have so many destructive effects on one’s mind. The damage was even worse if said person’s mental health was already in bad shape after hundreds of years passed in absolute isolation.

Other factors could play a role in that as well and, for Moonjumper, it was mostly jealousy, hatred and resentment. All of them had been directed towards one particular person: his other half. While the latter had managed to escape from Vanessa’s basement, Moonjumper had woken up in this nightmarish dimension, one he ended up calling the Horizon."

Moonjumper feels extremely bad about his past actions. His mind cannot help but remember them constantly, trapping him in a prison of guilt. However, he learns that he's not the only one feeling that way...

Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24665326/chapters/59601370

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Guess the sequel of "Reliving An Old Nightmare" is here ! Hope you'll like it !!

If you haven't read "Reliving An Old Nightmare", I highly suggest you do so before starting this one, as you'll probably don't understand this story otherwise. If you like this story, please don't hesitate to tell me !

Also, English is not my native language, so there might be some grammatical mistakes I'll need to correct. Don't hesitate to tell me about them if you find one !

Happy reading !

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Chapter 01 - A New Beginning

Guilt really was an awful feeling. Lurking in the darkness, always waiting for the worst moment to attack its host, this terrifying emotion could have so many destructive effects on one’s mind. The damage was even worse if said person’s mental health was already in bad shape after hundreds of years passed in absolute isolation. Other factors could play a role in that as well and, for Moonjumper, it was mostly jealousy, hatred and resentment. All of them had been directed towards one particular person: his other half. While the latter had managed to escape from Vanessa’s basement, Moonjumper had woken up in this nightmarish dimension, one he ended up calling the Horizon.

He had never been good with names. Coming up with one for this place had been quite hard, given how desert and empty it was. After all, this dimension was just a seemingly infinite void, white everywhere, with small floating islands. Some of them were bare of any element, others had trees and bushes, while certain were full of rocks.

However, only one had a magical pond, and it was the one he was on most of the time. Now that he had gained the ability to float rather than having to crawl on the ground, he had been able to explore the Horizon, discovering what the other islands had to offer. Well, the answer was “not much”, though it was still better than being restricted to a single island. Considering the infinity of this place, Moonjumper tried to use his strings to connect the islands together, as a way to find his way around. It was like a giant map, where he had to follow the strings and their directions to find back his original island. Most of the time, it worked pretty well! Other times… The ghost had to search for it for what seemed hours to him.

Well, time couldn’t be measured here anyway.

His inability to find good names could also be seen in the way he chose to call himself. After coming to hate his other half and what the latter had become, the undead spirit didn’t want to have anything to do with him, and that also covered the person they both used to be. Thus, just like his other part did with his own name, Moonjumper thought of another identity he could use. The process had certainly not been easy and he had had to see which name fitted him the best, which one made him the most comfortable. He had tried to find something related to one of the things he liked the most and, eventually, the name Moonjumper came to him.

The Moon had always been something he had loved, watching it at night. Some people loved to stargaze but, as for him, he always had prefered to admire the beauty of the Moon. Choosing a name based on it seemed like a good idea and he had liked the sound of it.

And then, an opportunity had presented itself to him, an opportunity to leave this cursed place. Moonjumper had not hesitated a single second, manipulating Vanessa during her sleep to contact her. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t even sure how he did that, even to this day. It was before the Time Piece affected his body, his appearance and gave him his… Abilities. But maybe he already had gained some powers after his death, but wasn’t aware of it. Even today, the ghost still didn’t know. What he did know at the time, however, was that a small child had fallen from the sky in the mortal plane… A hatted little child, who had brought with her a lot of powerful artefacts, some sadly lost in Subcon Forest…

All he had had to do afterwards was to find someone desperate enough to listen to him. Someone easy to manipulate, someone who would do anything if promised the impossible… And soon, a plan had appeared in his mind. It was flawless! He had passed so much time planning everything so it would be perfect, so he would finally leave and get his revenge at the same time! What a wonderful opportunity!

Except it wasn’t. Because he had killed a kid in his attempt to get free.

Leaning on a tree, back in the Horizon, he closed his eyes. A lot of things had changed since then and, one of the biggest difference was that he was now able to go in and out of this dimension as he pleased. The spirit’s face winced as he remembered the scene. So much blood, so many tears and cries, the little girl’s body sliding against the ice as gravity pulled her body closer to the floor… It has been so awful, so horrible… And something the ghost had never wanted to do in the first place.

… Well, this wasn’t entirely true. He did try to kill her once, shackling her in the cellar, next to his unconscious other half. The truth was that, even if he had considered her as a threat to him because of her magical hats and knowledge regarding other dimensions… Moonjumper was not a killer. Contrary to his other half who had named himself The Snatcher, the spirit had never killed anyone voluntarily, let alone a child. When he had to get rid of her… He had chickened out, unable to murder her. All he had been able to do at the time was to lock her somewhere, hoping the collapsing rift would kill her instead, taking away the dirty work off his hands.

And it had been the same with Snatcher and Vanessa: it had all been hot air, bluff, lies, empty threats! Anything so he wouldn’t have to kill them himself. Using the hatted child as a hostage had given him the perfect escape scenario! Snatcher and Vanessa hadn’t been able to attack him while he was holding the little girl, just like he had planned. However… He hadn’t planned said kid would risk her life to get free. When the spirit had pushed her away, trying to avoid her attack… He had never meant to kill her. It had all been a huge accident!

The ghost curled up, taking his head into his hands. He could feel the sensation of his claws scratching his head, leaving marks as he brought them down. It made an awful sound. Silence was everywhere around him, making his thoughts even louder in his mind. Guilt was an unbearable feeling. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second… This was all he could think about: how he had murdered an innocent kid.

It hadn’t been a definitive death, but still.

After his other half broke the Time Piece, he had woken up in the attic, just like he was before being teleported outside the Rift. Next to him were the unconscious bodies of Snatcher, Vanessa and… The hatted kid’s. Since there hadn’t been any ice pillars in this version of the attic, the child had been lying on the floor, safe and sound. A sudden wave of relief had engulfed him as he had realized that she was still alive. He had tried to float closer, wanting to be sure, though Vanessa had woken up, trying to attack him.

He barely escaped that day.

The spirit had been free since then. Yet, he didn’t feel like he deserved this newfound freedom, especially because it had happened thanks to a child’s -temporary- death. Eventually, he had learnt that his body had been much more affected by the Time Piece than what he first thought.

First, the ghost was now alive and dead at the same time. It was extremely weird to him, in a lot of ways. One of them was that he could feel and smell things, contrary to his other half, who apparently couldn’t. Another one was that, while he didn’t need to eat, he felt the need to sleep. He could also feel pain, though he wasn’t able to heal his injuries, the ones caused by Snatcher. The latter had ripped the Time Piece out of his ribcage, breaking bones and bruising some organs in the process. Now, some time had passed since then, probably a few months from what Moonjumper had been able to tell, but… His body had remained unchanged, still as damaged as before. Since he didn’t have any healing magic, the only thing he could do was tying his chest up, in order to keep it closed. He had thought about closing it definitely by sewing his own skin, but… The very idea made him extremely uncomfortable. Considering he could feel pain now, this was not something he wanted to do. Thus, he had chosen the least painful solution, hoping that one day he’ll have the courage to do more than this.

He knew he wouldn’t, though.

The spirit let out a huge sigh and lifted his head back up, his eyes reexamining his surroundings: nothing ever changed in this place, it always remained the same. Just like him, in the end.

Moonjumper materialized several red strings, tying them between his fingers as he started to draw forms with them, mindlessly playing as his thoughts kept on wandering.

He couldn’t say he liked going back to the Horizon. Yet, even if he now had the possibility to leave and explore the world he had yearned so much… It was -oh- so overwhelming. The mortal plane was so lively, so noisy, so full of sensations he had lost the habit of feeling… At first, Moonjumper had been so happy to leave the Horizon, but soon his senses had been submerged, hit by a wave of sensations he had forgotten the existence.

Plus… There were a lot of people staring at him, judging him from afar… But who could blame them? It wasn’t every day one could see a literal living corpse! Though, all those stares and scared glances made Moonjumper feel even worse about himself. His new appearance was a reminder of what he did, of the bad things he had done just to be free… Of the death of an innocent child. It was too much.

Eventually, he couldn’t help but come back to the Horizon, where it was calm, where there was no one else but him, where no one would judge him. He did that very well on his own anyway. He still liked to leave this place, of course! Just… Not too long and only when it was late in the mortal plane. In that case, there wouldn’t be too many people staring at him.

It was really ironic! He had wanted to be free, to get out of there so much… And now, he was trapped again, trapped by his own loneliness. He did try to talk to people, but most of them were either scared or really uncomfortable by his presence. In the end, his situation was even worse than before. Yes, he could leave, but now his inability to socialize was his own fault. When he was stuck in the Horizon, he had his other half to blame for that… Now, he had no one else to blame other than himself.

It was a very different matter.

Moonjumper made the strings disappear and he stared into space. He needed to take his mind off all of this. Maybe a walk at night would help him? It had been a long time since the last one. He had been focusing on staying outside longer and longer. The mortal plane was overwhelming, but it was becoming easier to bear all those new sensations. It was a slow process, but it was progress nonetheless.

The ghost lifted himself from the ground, using his new floating abilities to move. He flew higher and higher, getting farther off the island he was on. Then, he extended his hands in front of him, grabbing empty space with them. But there was still something, even if it wasn’t visible. Clenching his teeth, the spirit started pulling the reality apart, separating it with his hands as he tried opening a window to the mortal plane. It was hard, and Moonjumper could feel his arms getting tired quickly at how difficult it was. But, after a few seconds, he managed to open a passage. The sight of a city greeted him, a town plunged into the darkness of the night, with no one outside. It was apparently a calm city surrounded by water, with tall buildings. An island, perhaps? But it mattered little to the ghost: all he wanted was to go on a stroll without catching anyone’s attention.

And this place seemed perfect for that. Before leaving his dimension, he examined the city once more, smelling the sea air as he passed his head through the crack. It was a messy town, with garbage and graffiti everywhere. There were a lot of scaffoldings, as if the city had gone through major changes. Many crates were scattered around. There was a beach, though it seemed just as messy as the rest of the island. Several hot-air balloons were settled on the sand, all empty. A huge geyser was coming out of the centre of the town, holding up a sort of platform on which could be seen a building.

Moonjumper let a small smile appear on his features, something he barely did nowadays: this was going to be a promising stroll, he thought, as he entered the new dimension, the crack slowly closing behind him.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hope you liked that first chapter ! :D

See you soon on the next chapter ! Take care in the meantime !

=> Chapter 02

[crystalessenceswrites]

You’re Enchanting--Chapter Two

Summary:  Delphine always told Elazar she would do anything to help him if he was ever in trouble, even knowing his knack for finding it. She didn’t expect to be helping him save the world after someone blows up the Conclave and tears a hole in the sky. Nor did Delphine expect to be falling for anyone, let alone a troubled, former templar, while she’s watching her best friend shape the future of their world with a green glowing hand.

Pairings: Cullen/Trevelyan & Dorian/Lavellan

Warnings: none I think? Includes discussion of mage/templar opinions of the other but nothing extensive 

Can also be found on AO3

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three]

Chapter Two- Focus

“So, you don’t have a clue as to how you got the mark on your hand, except that it happened during the explosion, which also opened the Breach that’s allowing demon rifts to open and terrorize the good people of Thedas. And knowing this, you joined the Inquisition because the mark closes rifts and they want to seal the Breach in the sky and save the world.” Delphine sat on the edge of Elazar’s cot, rubbing her temples. “Do I have that all correct?”

“Pretty much,” Elazar shot her a half-assed grin. She knew he was getting too much enjoyment out of watching her try to wrap her mind around the events of the last week.

“And people are believing that a Dalish elf is the Herald of Andraste?”

Elazar’s fingers lightly traced over the blue ink below his eye. “That has surprised me just as much as you… but it’s better than people calling me some sort of darkspawn.”

“I can agree with that,” Delphine sighed. If becoming a religious icon protected Elazar from such accusations, she would let it stand for now. “Does it hurt? The mark, I mean.”

“Not so much anymore. Right after the explosion, when the Breach was still growing, the mark was spreading. Solas and the apothecary here, Addan, managed to keep me alive long enough to seal it… and once we did, the mark stopped consuming my arm. We think…”

Delphine could spot his fake optimism a mile away, but he wasn’t just trying to convince her that the mark was no longer a danger but himself as well. She hated that he felt the need to do so around her. They hadn’t been apart for that long, had they?

“Well, I guess that’s good to hear. There’s still the fact that it’s there at all, but that’s a problem that needs a solution later on. You will let me know if it starts bothering you again, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course, Del. You’re the last person I could hide it from anyways,” Elazar chuckled.

“That’s true. I can read you like a book.” She grinned back.

Maybe it hadn’t been that long after all.

“Which reminds me! I lent you a copy of Early Orlesian History before I left the Circle. Please tell me you left that in the tower and that it didn’t go up in flames in the explosion.”

The color draining from her elvish friend’s face didn’t give Delphine much hope.

“Ha- I was hoping you forgot about that.”

Delphine pressed her palms over her eyes, all hope of possibly appeasing her uncle next time she saw him was gone. That is if she ever saw him again…

“My uncle lent me that copy! I’ll never hear the end of it from him, ever!” The man could hold a grudge, which stands as quite a testament to character considering her family and their reputation.

“I’ll apologize to your bookworm uncle myself if I must. And I’ll see if I can find another copy to replace it with.” This was not the first time one of his books had been destroyed by Elazar’s mishaps, and apology and a replacement might not cut it this time around.

“Elazar, between worrying me and destroying my uncle’s prized library, you will be the death of me.”

.

In short order, Delphine found herself in the presence of the Inquisition leadership. Elazar, true to his charismatic nature, cheerily introduced her to Leliana, the Left Hand of the Divine, who eyed her with unabashed curiosity. Delphine was used to being ogled like an exotic pet but considering it was the Divine’s spymaster looking at her with such intensity gave slight cause for concern. Next, she was properly reintroduced to Cassandra, the Right Hand of the Divine. Despite knowing the woman was formerly a Seeker, Delphine was not nearly put off in her presence. Maybe it was the fact that her eyes weren’t nearly as cold and sharp as the other Seekers she’d crossed paths with over the years.

Josephine greeted Delphine with a practiced gleaming smile and a myriad of questions, the first of which was on her relationship to the Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick. She shouldn’t have expected any less from the ambassador.

“He would be my father.”

Delphine wondered if she should be more concerned about the ambassador considering the glee that washed over Josephine’s face at the answer.

“Lady Trevelyan, you and our ambassador are soon going to become fast friends.” Leliana sounded thoroughly amused at the development.

Josephine quickly voiced her agreement before Delphine had a chance to correct the Spymaster. Delphine had not been considered a lady since she was a child, and honestly, she held little desire to return to that position. The only title she savored was the one she had earned through dedication to her studies and craft.

Lastly, Elazar reintroduced Delphine to the Commander, who stood near the back of the room, his hands resting crossed over the hilt of his sword. The stance was as close to relaxed as any templar could allow themselves while still being able to perform their duties. Delphine did her best to keep her skepticism from showing as he greeted her in return. She also tried to ignore the way he looked her over in a not so subtle manner.

“I have asked Delphine to stay and help… after all, she is the smarter of the two of us. She may prove to be more helpful to the Inquisition than I.”

Delphine had never been fond of how Elazar put himself below her. He was just as talented in magic as she was, if not more so.

“That’s not true. We’re no longer in the Circle so I will not have this argument with you again,” she scolded. “And you are the one with the glowing hand in all this, not me.”

Cassandra looked rather amused but did not interject, deferring to Leliana. “I am sure we all agree that any assistance Lady Trevelyan can offer would be most appreciated, Herald. She is most welcome here.”

Cullen and Josephine nodded, the ambassador looking more pleased with the development than the commander.

“With the settled, we should discuss the names that Mother Giselle supplied us with. I believe having the Herald address the clerics is not a terrible idea.”

Elazar had briefly explained why he had been sent to the Crossroads following the developments at the Temple. Delphine was skeptical that any in the Chantry would even dare to gather in public right now.

“You can’t be serious.” Cullen balked, and Delphine had half a heart to agree with him.

“Mother Giselle isn’t wrong: at the moment, the Chantry’s only strength is that they are united in opinion.”

“And we should ignore the danger to the Herald?” Leliana shot back.

“Let’s ask him.”

Elazar shrugged, “what can they do? It’s just talk.”

Had he skipped all of his history lessons while they were apprentices?

“Don’t underestimate the power of their words. An angry mob will do you in just as quickly as a blade.”

Delphine nodded in agreement, Leliana had more than a fair point. “Never doubt the power of public opinion.”

“I will go with him to Val Royeaux. Mother Giselle said she could provide us names? Use them.”

Cassandra was a woman of action, and deserved credit for that, even if the idea did seem rather fruitless. All the Chantry would do for such a meeting would be a charade. Leliana seemed to be of the same opinion.

“But why? This is nothing but a-”

“What choice do we have, Leliana? Right now we can’t approach anyone for help with the Breach. Use what influence we have to call the clerics together. Once they are ready we will see this through.”

Begrudgingly the rest agreed, Leliana and Josephine would begin sending out letters and agents to bring together those they could in Val Royeaux in a few weeks’ time. Delphine offered Josephine any help she needed. She had not seen this list of names yet but it was entirely possible she knew of or was related to one of two of the clerics suggested to be amenable. It was the most she could do, for now.

“In the meanwhile, I plan to return to the Crossroads. There is still much to do,” Elazar declared. Always one to make such decisions on his own. At least that much had not changed.

.

The pair spent the rest of the day settling into Haven and planning what they could. Due to the already apparent lack of housing it was decided Delphine would bunk with Elazar. Another cot appeared rather quickly and was situated across the cabin from Elazar’s. It was more privacy than she had expected upon her arrival in the small village. Someone else came by not long after with fresh clothes more suited to the mountain winter. Delphine heartily thanked the elvish woman who looked at Elazar with wide eyes.

After bathing, something Delphine needed even more than fresh clothes, Elazar sat with her on her new bed and combed out her long sandy locks. Her elvish friend had been enamored with her hair since they had met. There had been plenty of nights over the years where he would sit behind her while she studied, dutifully combing and braiding. Delphine had tried unsuccessfully, on many occasions, to convince Elazar to grow his own hair out. She thought he would look rather charming with long dark hair. He always shot the idea down, content with his current messy floof.

“It makes me appear more the dashing rogue, don’t you think?”

Delphine would always roll her eyes, “if that’s what you believe, El.”

Maybe he would be some dashing heartbreaker had he been left to live his life outside the Circle tower, as his people intended.

Elazar’s hands lingered across her shoulders as he finished styling her hair. “I missed this- I miss you, Del.” He wrapped his scrawny arms around her shoulders, leaning across her back. “I’m glad you came… I don’t know if I could do this, whatever this is, without you.”

She couldn’t remember the last time he had hugged her. They hadn’t been on speaking terms last time they saw each other face to face. It had been too long.

“Well someone has to keep you out of trouble, El.” She lay one hand over his, rubbing soothing circles across his knuckles. “So, you won’t be getting rid of me so easily again.”

“Thank you, Del.”

.

Delphine felt much more prepared to face the day as she readied herself the following morning. Requisitions had supplied her with suitable clothing that actually fit, unlike the hastily bought traveling gear Del had purchased for herself upon her arrival in Ferelden. It was much easier to tromp around Haven in fur-lined boots that weren’t threatening to fall off her feet. She admittedly was also more comfortable going about her business in a skirt than the leather trousers she’d been wearing.

“You almost look like a proper Ferelden lady.” Elazar had snickered as she finished dressing.

She rolled her eyes in response. A brown lambswool sweater, cream skirt, and sturdy boots just made her appear ready for the weather, not Ferelden. Perish the thought she would ever be anything besides a Marcher.

After breakfast they parted ways, El wanted to discuss plans for returning to the Hinterlands with Cassandra, while Del wanted to see about having armor prepared. Next time Elazar went out on one of these missions, she wanted to be prepared to go with him. Del would leave nothing up to chance or fate now, she would have her friend’s back, defend it if she must.

Most of her day was spent in lively debate with the blacksmith, Harritt. He was hesitant at first, Delphine assumed because he spied the staff at her back the moment she entered his forge, but began to open up the longer she was able to hold a conversation with him. Back in the Circle Delphine had studied mage armor as a purely academic topic. It was not something they would ever be allowed to make or own as they weren’t permitted to fight, but there had been plenty of books and schematic references in the tower library. She may have never had the opportunity to craft but the theory behind it was one she understood, and it was the theory she needed now. Harritt would concern himself with the actual creation, Delphine simply had to supply the instructions.

Harritt was the first person outside of the Circle who seemed to enjoy, and dare she say, respect her knowledge. For the first time Del wondered if Elazar was right about people outside the Circles. Maybe it was possible for people to find common ground with mages. Could it be that the rebels found sympathy for their cause outside of their own kind? Delphine had plenty of time to sit and ponder the thought as Harritt got to work on her enchanter armor. It would take a few days to complete, as the blacksmith also had to manage the growing need for standard armor and weapons for the new recruits. She was not in any particular hurry and went about helping Josephine the best she could in the meanwhile.

Like everyone else Josephine had plenty to do. There wasn’t much Delphine could do concerning politics, a subject Del was much more removed from outside of mage and Circle politics, but she had decent penmanship and some tact with words. She did what she could helping pen the letters out to the Chantry Mothers, and offered what insight she could on the clerics themselves. One was a distant cousin by marriage to Delphine’s mother and another had been one of her brother’s sponsors when he had pursued his calling. Giving her name to those two letters did not feel like much but Josephine reassured her that every bit of influence that could gather would help.

“You do not understand the power of your name?” Josephine seemed rather confused by it, but Delphine decided it was not something to hold against the Antivan woman. How was she supposed to understand the hesitancy of a noble turned mage?

“It is not a name that is truly mine,” it was difficult to put to words, although it was her name and would forever be the family she shared blood with, any power it held had been stripped away along with her title all those years ago. Most days, Delphine was alright with that fact. “I have not been a proper member of the Trevelyan family since I was sent to the Circle.”

Josephine’s usually bright face dropped, “I see…I did not consider that fact. There is that much separation between mages and their families?”

“Most never see or speak to their relatives after entering the Circle. I was lucky due to my family’s position in the city.”

“I see…”

The Ambassador was rather apologetic the next few times Delphine stopped by to offer her assistance, though there was no need for her to be. She was not offended by the topic. Delphine imagined most had little to no knowledge of what life as a mage entailed. It was not something she’d ever consider holding against the woman, especially when Josephine had been otherwise nothing but kind to her. Delphine wanted to do what she could to help the bustling woman but found there was not much she could take off her hands.

Delphine soon found herself with more time on her hands than she knew what to do with, particularly after Elazar departed for the Hinterlands. It was a different kind of lonesome that Del was not accustomed to. Much of her isolation in the Circle had been self-imposed. This was the kind of where she sat and prayed, hoping Elazar would return in one piece.

.

Eventually, she fell into a routine, checking in with Josephine and Harritt in the morning to offer what help she could. If there was anything for her to do, it was usually wrapped up by midday, so Del would spend her afternoons sitting on the side of the main steps of the village, taking in what sun she could and watching the soldiers train by the frozen lake. It was oddly satisfying to watch them continuously drill and spar. Delphine had enjoyed people watching in the Circle, this was just a kind of people she had not had the option of watching before. Additionally, it seemed to annoy Joshua. He would often spot her staring and shake his head or act as if he was shooing her away. They had been playing this odd game of theirs for just over a week when the Commander caught Joshua in his usual display of displeasure.  After what seemed like a thorough chewing out by his superior officer, Joshua waved her to come over.

Delphine made a point of approaching solemn-faced, worried she too would be getting a lecture from the former templar. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“The Commander asked to speak with you.”

She must have grimaced because Joshua looked absolutely thrilled to usher her towards the blond soldier.

Delphine wasn’t frightened by the ex-templar, per se, but after a lifetime of being watched by men and women like him, she had been instilled with a healthy sense of wariness around them. It did not matter if she was in the tower or at one of her family’s estates being guarded by one of her uncles or cousins, they all viewed her as a potential danger and they acted as such. She didn’t necessarily disagree with their view. Delphine understood the dangers of possession, but she had no reason to trust someone who already mistrusted her. Delphine had yet to see the Commander interact with any of the mages who remained at Haven, besides in their initial meeting. Most seemed to avoid him, which stood as no surprise. She had yet to see him mistreat one of her kind but that did not mean he didn’t either.

She wanted to make up her mind about the man, but there was a small voice in the back of her mind that urged her to look closer. She had not heard him utter any disparagement towards mages, even in the few war room meetings she had attended in the absence of Elazar. There was also a certain steel that he lacked. He was gruff, yes, the lip scar and light stubble made him appear the rough soldier, but his voice lacked a certain bite that Delphine had become accustomed to with templars.

“Ser, you asked to speak with me?”

In the time she had spent watching from afar, Delphine had concluded the Commander had two kinds of days. On occasions she could read him like a book; these were the days when the stress seemed to overwhelm him physically, leaving him looking sickly and gaunt in his bulky armor. The rest of the time, she could not discern what he was thinking. There was no doubt that the man was strait-laced and knew how to act the part of a leader. As for today, Delphine stood cautiously next to the former templar as he looked out over the training recruits, she could not read his hardened stare.

“The Herald said you two studied together in Ostwick, correct?”

Delphine blinked for a moment, she still did not associate Elazar with his new title, despite the advisors all referring to him as such. “Y-yes. Elazar and I met in the Circle.”

“Then you received some proper amount of training?”

A proper amount of training? Maker’s balls she was an Enchanter!

Not trusting her voice to not give away her frustrations, Delphine gave the ex-templar a cautious nod. She wondered if he was worried that she wasn’t aware of the threat of possession she faced? As if she had not been living with the constant reminder for nearly twenty years.

He appeared satisfied and quickly turned to shout at the soldier currently sparring with Joshua. “You there! There’s a shield in your hand. Block with it. If this man were your enemy, you would be dead. Lieutenant, don’t hold back. The recruits must prepare for a real fight, not a practice one.”

“Yes, Commander.” Joshua quipped before he promptly knocked down the younger man with a shield bash.

Turning back, the Commander seemingly returned to his earlier point. “We’ve received a number of new recruits- locals from Haven and some pilgrims. They are progressing well but some have never even met a mage before, let alone faced one in combat.”

Delphine had an idea of where this was headed now.

“I believe it would be beneficial for the new recruits to practice defending against magic. Would you be willing to assist with this?”

“I…I want to be as much help as possible, ser. But in truth I have next to no combative magic experience.” He was an ex-templar, surely he was aware of the fact that Circle mages were not trained in such magic. Any “combat” primal magic Circle mages knew was self-taught, personally developed, or from banned literature. Delphine had been taught healing, crafting, and barrier magic, disciplines meant to protect and serve.

Yet the Commander looked a bit surprised by her admission. “The Herald said he had been part of the group who rebelled against the templars at Ostwick so I assumed you had as well. Did you not agree with the others?”

Delphine thought it best not to mention that Elazar had been the one to lead the rebellion at Faxhold.

“No, I left the tower before Elazar and the others rebelled. My family is made of templars, ser, I couldn’t find it in myself to fight against those in my Circle either. I took the cowardly way out and ran away so I wouldn’t be forced to choose one side or the other.”

He paused for a moment as if to wrap his mind around the fact that there were mages out in the world that did not inherently desire the death of all templars. “Well, I do appreciate your sentiments. But now might be the time to come to terms with the fact we are in the middle of a war, with a giant hole in the sky.”

“I have been thinking long and hard about that,” Delphine quipped back. She was not so naïve to believe she would walk away from this all without raising her hand against another person. When it came to Elazar, she would do all in power to protect him, fight for him if the need arose, but it was a sense of defense, she did not seek out violence. Yet in this case, the Inquisition was the force trying to quell a rising storm in their world, using her magic in defense of that idea was not inherently violent, was it? And by helping these soldiers with their training, she could possibly be saving lives down the road. Wasn’t that worth it?

“I want to assist you, ser. I’m just worried that despite what training I do have, I am going to hurt an untrained recruit instead of teaching them properly.”

His lips pressed together into a thin line as he ran one gloved hand through his hair. “You have a valid concern, Delphine. The freshest recruits may not be ready to face an untested mage. It may be best to stick with demonstrations for now. Would you be comfortable sparring with a trained templar instead? Someone who already knows how to handle your attacks?”

Delphine was surprised by how quickly he was taking her concerns into consideration but nonetheless appreciated it. Perhaps the Commander wasn’t such a typical templar.

“That would make me worry less. Thank you, ser.”

“You really don’t need to keep calling me “ser,” Delphine. You’re not one of the recruits.”

“Oh, that’s a bit of an old habit, I suppose. Is Cullen alright then?”

“That’s perfectly fine.”

Delphine could have sworn she saw his lips twitch up into a small smile but it was so brief and with the afternoon sun reflecting off his well-polished armor she could have been seeing things.

“Whenever you are ready, come down to the field and I’ll have someone set to run demonstrations with you.”

.

Elazar returned from the crossroads the following day to find Del throwing balls of fire at a shield wall while Cullen explained how the stance was an effective way to defend against an apostate mage or rouge’s fire attacks.

“Cullen has even roped your friend into training the new recruits.” Elazar jumped about a foot off the snow, not having heard the Spymaster approach. “And it seems to be going well so far. What she lacks in experience she makes up for in talent.”

“She did always have a good grasp on her studies. And she spent more time with her nose in her books than I ever did, if we’re being honest.”

“Are you worried about her Herald?”

“Perhaps a bit. I know she’s capable, more than capable really. But I am the reason she’s here and I don’t know what I would do if something happened to her. At the same time, I also don’t know what I would do without her. She was the only person in the Circle I truly trusted.” And she was all Elazar had left from the Circle. Everyone else they had ever known was gone.

“Well, the faster we can seal the Breach, the faster the two of you can head home.”

“That’s what I hope.”

[Masterlist]