#Jael Flinch

[benka79]

Writing for the @ficwip drabbles prompt

Title: Come Closer

Original Work: "Mediation From Heaven" Webtoon

Original characters: Jael/Sophie

Rating: G

Warnings: N/A

Prompt: Closing Up

"I don't understand, why would we need a cohabitation contract? Don't you see how reliable and cute I am?" Jael smirked at the girl in front of him. She was puffing out her freaked cheeks again like a squirrel.

Adorable.

"Mr. Wanderer, please sign the contract,"Sophie insisted.

Cocking an eyebrow, Jael whined, "I don't understand this word here–"

"Where?" The girl asked as she approached him closer.

Grinning with mischievous eyes, Jael pointed,"Here," Sophie was now inches from him, the man took that opportunity and kissed her cheek.

"What!?" She flinched, blushing while Jael broke into laughter.

[jay-and-dean]

Firefly   Chapter 1. Five years old

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ? 

Summary :  40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her. 

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here...

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer... And also Sammy and Jack...

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 2645

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it.

Roonyxx Masterlist

Jay’s Masterlist

_________________________

Reader’s Pov

She should have stayed in her room. 

She should have stayed in her room for many reasons. Because her huge, warm and luxury bedroom was far enough from the horrible screams first. Desperate calls for help echoing everywhere, useless begging and strangled howls of infinite pain. 

Because her room was neither burning hot nor cold like bleak ice.

Because there was no smell indescribably vile between the rock walls and along the velvet curtains…

But in her child mind, anything was better than eternal silence, even cries for help, better than the lonely torpor of comfort, than that unbearable loneliness.

And boredom.

So, as usual, she took Mister Teddy Bear in her arms, holding him close against her tiny body. With her finger she stuffed the foam escaping from the hole where his head should be, and smiled at his pathetic form.

She didn’t miss his head, for the same reason she didn’t miss the sky : because she had never seen it. 

Hell was big enough to get lost forever but she never did. It was vast enough for her to never go twice in the same place if she decided too. And for now, she had only found one place worth going back, the rest was only screams.

She shivered a little, today was cold, at least in this area. And even if she was shaped to handle Hell, she could see the steam coming out of her mouth and taste the metallic smell of blood on her tongue. 

When something moved on the wall of that infinite corridor, she took a step back, bumping the opposite sweating blood wall. It was the skin of a human being, empty and limply nailed on the wall, but somehow still whining and crying.  

She looked down at Mister Teddy bear and noticed it had been stained again, by the thick smelly blood constantly seeping from the tall cold dark walls. She sighed and gave the shaking empty skin a reprimanding look, frowning her thin and small eyebrows.

And she kept walking. 

A demon appeared at an intersection. He wasn’t wearing a human form, his giant body scrawny to the bones, with a crest of rotten wood along his visible spine, transparent skin, no eyes, and a huge pair of horns above him. His arms were long enough to touch the floor, and he was raising his legs too high while walking, which gave him something of a spider. 

She recognized Jael.

He passed by, ignoring her tiny form as usual, leaving a trail of smoke and sulfur behind him. For him, she was probably not bigger than a cat would be to a human being. Annoyed by his complete indifference, she closed her tiny five years old fists and punched his leg in a grunt. 

The demon didn’t even acknowledge her and she watched him walk or crawl away. 

She stayed still for a moment, holding Mister Teddy Bear tight, looking around at the infinite numbers of boring corridors this maze had. She turned on herself in a little dance, her dress flying like there was wind, closed her eyes and stopped randomly, a little dizzy.

This way today.

She sighed in content, she had never been this way before. So she put her tiny patent shoe in front of her and started walking.

She walked for a while, going in any direction like a little mouse in an abandoned manor. Avoiding the walls and covering her ears when the screams were too loud. Once or twice she looked inside the rooms, her eyes meeting pieces of humans, arms reaching to her, eyes without eyelids following her tiny form while beasts with their demon faces or a human costume were feasting on their guts. 

She turned left and found herself in front of a door opened on a large room with a man in the middle of it. 

He wasn’t screaming. 

Chains were maintaining him up and straight, his arms stretched toward the ceiling. The chain was going through his stomach and one of his thighs. Weights were at his hips probably slowly tearing his back.

She stopped in front of the door and held Mister Teddy Bear closer, studying his silhouette, hidden in the shadow of the corridor. 

He was brighter, he was stronger. His silence made her shiver for she was so used to the din of despair.

Did he really belong here ?

Mesmerized by his noble aura, she took a step in the room and looked up. His face was held by a chain around his neck, his eyes closed and face unexpectedly calm, almost as if he was sleeping. 

When she took another shy step, her potent shoe hit a piece of the chain she didn't notice and the metallic sound made him gasp. His eyes opened and their green light fell on her.

He stayed totally motionless, but it was not like he could really move anyway. Only his eyes weren’t still, trembling in her direction, struggling to focus. Like all the damned souls, he seemed really surprised to see her here, she was just a little girl anyway ; and there was no child in Hell. But his eyes had no expression of supplication, only a mix of distrust and pain.

Demons had never frightened her much, some of them were impressive and ugly, disgusting even. But they couldn’t hurt her. What made shivers run along her tiny back were the damned themselves. Their screams, their begging, their despair... And in her immature mind, she had come to think they were fouler than the creatures of Hell themselves.

Not him. 

Her fascinated wide eyes were magnetized to his face, forgetting the chains and the pool of blood at his feet, everything broken about him. She just stared at his face and thought he was beautiful in a way.

She forgot her boredom for a second, and took another step. In front of her little form, with his arms almost reaching the ceiling, he appeared as tall as a mountain. She lifted her chin, frustrated a little to not be able to come closer to his face. 

Despite his dusty and grimy skin, she could see little light brown stains around his nose, his eyes were very green and bright, and bloodshot only made their natural color lighter.

Her tiny hand moved a little, not sure what she wanted to do, maybe poke his thigh, like little children tend to do when they find something curious. But he flinched, and she got scared. The whole mountain of his motionless body suddenly making the iron of the chains scream.

She took a step back and put Mister Teddy Bear on the floor, away from danger, before she came closer again. Keeping her eyes on him to tame the reactions of this huge and impressive wounded beast.

This time, she showed him her hand. Her little palm raised gently, she stood there, tasting his blood on her tongue, and the smell of metal and pain.

His face was confused, and his eyes still trembling from the intense fear of being touched, but he kept them on her, going from her innocent eyes to her tiny clean hand.

Dean’s pov

His eyes followed her as she sat down cross-legged a few feet from him, watching him in silence, she took Mister Teddy Bear and put him in her lap.

Dean’s eyes flickered from her little form to the door, waiting for the next torture to begin, but it didn’t.

She just kept watching him, her eyes shining with innocence only a child has. Was she really a kid ? Was it a trap ? A trap to what, nothing could really get worse anyway… Trying to ignore the horrible pain, he focused on her eyes to try and read them. 

Everything was weird about her. Her age, her beauty, like she came from another world, Earth or even Heaven… Nothing was dark or vile on her feature. She didn’t seem to mind that her little pink dress was getting soaked in his blood.

With one last glance at the door he cleared his throat, hoarse from screaming hours and hours, and from not really talking for what ? Years...

“Hey little girl?” he cleared his throat once more, surprised by his own voice.  

Not controlling his tone perfectly, he spoke a little too loud which made her shuffle back a little. He really didn’t want her to disappear just now, maybe if he managed to talk to her a little, get a name...

“No stay, s-sorry… I’m not gonna hurt you.” His voice seemed to calm her this time, she held Mister Teddy closer to her chest.

“Are you, lost ? What’s your name?” He tried, but she just kept watching him not saying a word. 

He gave her a little smile through the unbearable suffering. It felt foreign smiling, he hasn’t done it in years. 

“I won’t tell anyone.” 

It looked like she smiled back but he was too far to see it clearly, could she even talk anyway ? She looked human, but here… a kid ? Was she dead too ? How did she end up here ?

“Where you from, little girl?” he tried again, speaking was horribly painful but this moment was priceless to him. 

How he would love to hear a voice other then the screams of Hell or the filth the demons spat at him. But she kept her lips sealed, taking her little bear by the legs, making him walk through the blood. She didn’t seem phased by the horror of it at all.

“I’m Dean” he said. 

She looked up at him and slowly took the arm of her bear to wave at him. His eyes widened, so she could hear and understand him. If he had been able to, he would wave back, instead he chuckled lightly for the first time since the Hellhounds got him; almost forgetting the the chains in his back.

“What’s your little friend’s name? He looks badass.” 

Still no answer.

He needed her to be real, to not be an hallucination caused by pain or loneliness.

“Well I guess I’ll give you a name then, is that okay ?”

She shrugged slightly, wiping her headless toy to her perfectly ironed dress. 

“What you think of… Firefly?” She looked up at him, now he was sure he could see a smile gracing her little face.

“You like that ? You remind me of one” he tried not to cough at his dry throat, knowing it would be enough to break his back. “A little light in the darkest place…”

He started to look at her thoroughly. She didn’t look too skinny, she was a little dirty, blood stains on her arms, dress and shoes, but in a place like this that wasn’t surprising. Her eyes didn’t look heavy so she had a place to sleep, to rest… How he missed resting, to be able to close your eyes and just sleep, to not fear the never ending pain.

“How did you end up here ?” he asked more for himself, as she didn’t seem to talk at all. 

Maybe she couldn’t speak at all. How old would she be, four ? Maybe five ? The blood stains on her face made it difficult to see her child like features.

She was so remarkable, in this screaming pit of misery and despair, there was not one ounce of fear in her eyes. She didn’t seem faced by the fact that she was covered in blood, that her teddy bear was missing his head, that he himself was dangling by chains and seeping the very same blood she was sitting in. 

“You have been here for a while haven’t you ?” 

He could tell she probably didn’t know anything else but Hell. The absence of fear, the indifference, like everything was just as it always had been... He was sure of it. But then again, how did she end up in the pit ?

A cautious dark chuckle left his mouth.

“I lost count of how long I’ve been here but I heard it’s been about 10 or 15 years.”

She looked up at him, her little E/C eyes shining with curiosity, he hasn’t seen that in years, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them. They remind him so much of Sammy’s eyes when he was younger. 

A heavy door fell shut in the distance making Dean flinch, grunting loud when his cruel bonds rattled. She got up and came closer, inspecting the chain going through his thigh, her face showing little interest in it. 

Then, her curiosity visibly winning against her distrust, she crawled between his legs to watch his back. And he closed his eyes in apprehension of her touching something. But she didn’t.

Reader’s Pov

He was different from everything she had seen in her short life, he wasn’t screaming like the others, or begging, he just… endured it. He seemed stronger. 

She circled him to come back to where she could see his face. Her little hand reached for him again, but she remembered the damned didn’t like to be touched so she took her hand back.

Heavy footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway. 

She grabbed mister Teddy Bear from the floor and moved to stand beside the door, Jael entered, still in his demonic form.

“Dean Winchester, ready for your next session ?” his croaky voice came out of his mouth full of teeth in a strange way. “The master Alastair is waiting.” 

He steps on the chain making it shift in Dean’s gut. When Dean groaned hoarsely, she moved to punch her little fist into the creatures leg again.

With a sulfur stenched sigh the creature looked down her.

“What are you doing in here” he said in a growl. “You know it isn’t allowed.” 

His long bony fingers wrapped around her left ankle to pull her upside down into the air, she weighed nothing. She started to struggle but totally in vain, her palms clenched around Mister Teddy Bear to not lose him, and her free leg trying to kick the demon.

“I’m not a damn babysitter” the demon sighed, a cloud of smelly sulfur reaching her face, and making her sneeze. “I’ll tie you again if you keep wandering, child.” 

He turned to leave the room, his creepy gait making her dangle left and right.

“I’ll be back for you Winchester, you’ll say yes to Alastair soon enough.”

Still dangling from Jael’s grip, she took her bear arms and waved it at Dean before the Demon turned in the hallway.

Jael walked back to where her room was, when he pushed the door he came face to face with a Demon in the shape of a man, wearing a suit and a brand new watch, Crowley.

“Sir, your filth has been wandering” he dropped her to the floor bluntly. “Again.”

“Careful Jael, that’s my daughter” the smooth, human voice of her father echoes with no affection.

Crowley bended to pull her up by the arm, grimacing at how dirty she was, and put her in the corner where he had put the chain a few times ago, that was a little to big for her fragile foot anyway, around her.

“Now sweet cheeks” Crowley bended to her eye level “You know you aren’t allowed to leave this room so do us all a favor and don’t?” 

She stuck her tongue out to him.

“Just kill her already” Jael grunted.

Crowley stood up and ushered Jael out of the room, he locked the door behind them, while she already took her foot out of the too big chain to run at the door, failing to open it. 

“Patience Jael, one day this girl will lead us to victory, you’ll see.”

___________________________________

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[unseeliefaelass]

Darksiders: Origins

Chapter 7: A Forced Hand

On the day of the final meeting before the crusade was to begin,  Menahem was caring for his three wards as always. That is until Cedron and Hebron came over to them. Menahem groaned quietly as they did, trying to ignore them at first. Especially since his youngest brother Samson's cape was being difficult.

Cedron being ever the instigator began, "Babysitting again little brother?"

"They are my wards Cedron, what else do you expect of me?"

"Ha, you can call them your wards all you want Menahem. Yet runoffs they were, and runoffs they'll remain.", Cedron taunted.

Hebron in turn smirked, "Indeed, runoff runts who would've and frankly should've died like the others before or after them."

Growling Menahem stood up, "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Well yes we do actually. Absalom sent us to collect you from your...'task'.", Cedron stated mockingly.

"That's obvious, but what does he want of me?"

Hebron smacked his back, "He wants to hear about your plan of course."

Menahem's eyes widened briefly, "My what?"

"Come on, don't tell me you forgot about it like Lilith said you did.", Cedron chided him.

Realizing fully now what they were on about, Menahem sighed, "Well...I did have an idea for a plan yes. Specifically for a...first attack."

Hebron quickly placed a hand to his mouth, "Sssshhh don't spoil it on us. Save it for the meeting. Besides, discussions for the war tent are not meant for children's ears to hear."

Jael stamped her foot in anger at the elder twins. While Samson grunted alongside her, not noticing his cape fall off his shoulders. Issac meanwhile pretended to not care or notice, but in truth was rather miffed as well.

He thought to himself briefly, "If I had the strength, I'd make you eat that shit in lead."

Menahem sighed again, this time in annoyance, "If you insist, but only to spare them until they're ready."

An unfinished gun is then slammed down, "Maybe not Jael or Samson, but what about me?!"

"Calm yourself Issac.", Menahem replied simply and firmly.

"I AM calm. I just want to know why you're not letting me come, again. I'm old enough, I'm ready."

"Pff...heheh..No, you're not. Best learn your place and stand down boy." Cedron warned.

"You're not my boss, and I'm not your problem either."

Hebron swiftly raised his arm, causing Issac to flinch, "Indeed you're not. But you're becoming a problem, slowly. You don't want to be a problem for us boy, trust me. Now step off and stay in line with what you're told child."

Issac remained frozen for but a moment then looked back at Menahem, "Big brother please, I promise I'm ready. I just need to finish my gun and.."

Menahem walked towards him and placed both hands on his shoulders, "You need more than a weapon of your own to be ready Issac. The only reason I can enter those tents is because I'm the youngest Firstborn of us all. Not entirely a true mature adult yet, but I'll get there soon enough. You on the other hand, clearly need more patience, discipline, and training in general. Now stay here with your siblings and keep a watchful eye on them, please."

Issac scoffed but went back into the tent as directed. Menahem shook his head in response before walking back towards the war tent, the twins following behind him before quickly matching his pace. They reached the war tent quickly and found everyone else waiting for them. Menahem took his usual place beside Absalom, glancing at his remaining elder siblings. His eldest sister Lazuli stood at Absalom's other side. Next to her stood the other elder sisters in order from strongest to weakest, Jadeite, Opal, and Onyx. The twins stood between them and Methuselah. Thusly Sio was between him and Menahem. As everyone was finally situated, another person entered the tent. One they all bowed to, Absalom and Menahem included.

"My beloved children, you look well."

Absalom nodded, "We are doing well indeed Mother, more than that in fact. The generations have been formed and forged as needed. We are more than ready to begin the crusade to gain our rightful place in Creation, to earn the home we've been denied."

"You very much are my son. But one does not just begin a battle without a plan, or a backup in case of troubles in the first. Which is why we are here now. More specifically, why Menahem is here today.", Lilith expressed with pride before looking Menahem's way, "I trust you recall our discussions about it, and that you've prepared a potential backup plan as I've asked you to?"

"Uhm uhh...I remember the plan yes. I've also worked together a backup plan to be safe.", Menahem replied nervously.

"Well, let's hear it then.", Lilith stated tapping her nails against the table.

"Of course Mother...uh right on that.", Menahem said before telling them all his plans. How the Ravaiim would be a perfect first conquest for them. That with the race's natural abilities of flesh crafting they could do far more. With it they could push the potential of the Ravaiim past the primitive stasis they remained in. Far past and greater even than they may even potentially think of reaching. Menahem ended his idea off with the following words, "That all said, I propose we attack the Ravaiim. That we use their abilities with our best equivalents to Makers we have, to create something. Specifically, weapons. Weapons capable of mass destruction, and power greater than one could possibly imagine! FULL OF THE POTENTIAL OF AN ENTIRE RACE THAT COULDN'T EVEN BEGIN TO FATHOM IT AS THEY'LL SOON REACH IN OUR HANDS!"

Menahem then stopped and watched nervously as the others silently gawked at him. Finally Absalom spoke up, "This plan...is brilliant brother! No wonder you waited so long to tell us. This will no doubt be a difficult endeavor, but Gulbannan's work will undoubtedly be of use to us. Not to mention your personal expertise and in depth research of the Ravaiim."

"You... really believe so Absalom?", Menahem inquired almost timidly.

"Why of course Menahem! I was hoping for something like this in fact. Not only would capturing the Ravaiim's homeworld be simple, but also strategic. I say simple because really who would aid such a small, primitive civilization? According to Lilith's words on them, no one really looks their way anymore. The idea you've given us for their natural abilities would give us weapons beyond imagination. No one would expect it, so they'd be a perfect surprise for our enemies."

Lazuli cocked her head, "Hmhm yes yes, we got all of that already Absalom. Personally, I must ask if we intend these weapons to be given to our kin as a whole?"

"A good question indeed. I am of the opinion that the young ones cannot handle such responsibilities. That only we should take them on.", Onyx stated with a step forward.

Sio then looked at her, "But what if there comes a time we want our younger generations to wield them?"

"Not if...when. There will be a time where it is needed.", Methuselah corrected.

"And what makes you so sure?", Hebron questioned him, "What could possibly be a reason that would ever happen?"

Cedron nodded, "I agree with Hebron, nothing is ever set in stone, not really. The younger generations are not ready for such things, nor do I believe they'll ever be."

"Tsk tsk tsk. Close-minded and short-sighted as always little twins. Lazuli makes a good point to ask such an important question, you two however just yap your mouths uselessly. Perhaps when you say something useful, we'll start taking you both seriously again.", Opal chided them as her finger wagged.

Cedron growled, "Look who's talking? If it isn't Lazuli's favorite pet."

"Indeed, you only bark at us because you're her mutt. At her every beck and call no less. Meanwhile, you're too afraid to use the intelligence you do have. As she tells you to be.", Hebron added on almost gleefully.

The sound of Absalom's axe handle hitting the ground silenced them all, "Enough bickering! We are adults, the eldest in fact! Menahem is the only exception for now. But I will not tolerate the rest of you acting like children. Now to answer the big question before us....", then he looked to Menahem.

Menahem thought for a time on the concerns presented, despite Lazuli's tapping nails annoying him the whole time. Finally he came up with the solution to it all. How the young ones shouldn't be given leeway with the weapons to come. At least not right when they're created. Rather there would and should come a time for them to wield the weapons. However, they could not simply be trusted to leave well enough alone after being told they cannot use them.

"No, instead we will create a fail-safe. Something only we Firstborn know about for now, which ensures we have the best chances with the weapons. We must also use it to keep the younger kin from using them at all, or to our level at the very least. In a perfect state, it would at best give a fraction of the power. But what should the fail-safe be composed of? How much of it should we need if quantity is of concern to us? And what about keeping our enemies from using these against us?", Menahem scrambled in silence.

Absalom eventually touched his shoulder, "Should we adjourn?"

His head shook as his eyes blinked hard, "Hmm? Oh no. I've pretty much got a plan in place. But no idea how to enact it just yet. That's what I'm trying to figure out now."

Lazuli cocked her head in the opposite direction and muttered, "About time."

Glaring briefly he replied snidely, " Well sorry that I can't fit your perfect mind in my own sister. You try figuring out how to keep these weapons out of enemy hands. As essentially we need a fail-safe on the weapons. To ensure that for a time only we know how to use them to begin with. We will also be the only ones with the ability to use them at their fullest potential. The fail-safe in turn thusly prevents the younger generations and our enemies from using the weapons fully, or at all. Finally we will be the only ones aware of this fail-safe. At least until we finally decide when the younger members of our race are ready for such knowledge and strength. Unfortunately I do not know what it should be made of, or how much we may need."

Absalom placed his hand on Menahem's shoulder again, "Easy brother. She's getting under your skin again. Do not let her. Instead just ignore her, and give your brain a rest for a moment. If I cannot think of anything, perhaps Mother can. But I'll need a moment to indeed think."

He then indeed took his time on that, wanting to be absolutely sure before coming to a conclusion, "Menahem is correct. We do need something to ensure we have absolute control over them. Our younger kin, even when the time comes, can't just be allowed to use such powerful weapons without limits. The question is what should we use as the limiting factor then?  We are making these weapons from living people by the sound of it. Perhaps that is in fact the key to the puzzle. This will...no doubt be a gruesome affair, but a necessary one. So naturally there is no use cleaning hands that will and must be dirtied time and time again. We will use something else of the Ravaiim to fail-safe the weapons then. Something limited in quantity, but not terribly so. A renewable source that we can control. Even if it may slowly deplete as time passes, our kin will still be able to use most of the weapons to a lesser degree. But what can we....Shrragh! What the he...oh.".

Absalom checked his hand after having cut himself on his own axe. Everyone in turn jumped at the sudden sound, then looked on in both concern and curiosity as Absalom looked at his cut hand. Menahem in particular noted his expression going from annoyance to realization.

"You alright brother?"

"Blood.", He replied quietly.

"What?", Menahem asked confused as Lilith looked on in pure delight. Having been watching silently after her introduction. Seeing no reason to say much until needed.

"Their blood Menahem, that's what we will use. It's like the things from your books you always prattle on about. How blood is a key component in the body, one that if enough is missing the whole thing shuts down! If blood can keep a man alive, then these weapons can be kept going with it as well! And this way we use every bit of the Ravaiim we can, nothing will go to waste."

The rest of then Firstborn siblings all looked on in amazement at this revelation from their eldest. Menahem did look amazed, but he was only amazed at Absalom having shown that he did in fact listen to what he had to say. The main thing he felt about the revelation itself however, was an ever growing sense of horror.

Lilith meanwhile smirked as she looked on at her excited children and clapped, "Very well done my son. I shall brief Gulbannan on this as well when I next see him. After all as you said before Absalom, he can likely help with a few ideas of his own."

Menahem gulped hard, but tried to hide it from her. Lilith glanced his way but before she could ask he explained, "Just the excitement Mother. Trying to contain it, that's all."

Lilith smiled and ran her hand along his face ever so tenderly, "Menahem my child, you needn't curb that excitement. Embrace it. Take in the moment. For this is one of the biggest moments in your people's history. Share it with them, bask in the glory of being its architect. That way as you remember this moment for eons to come, you will have no regrets."

[blossom-hwa]

Leave an Angel - JENO

i fucking deleted the original post i’m so fucking stupid

YES I know it’s been MONTHS since I updated this series but inspiration is very fickle and it seems to have finally hit!

Thank you to those who keep reading this series and sending me beautiful messages about it - you all really, truly are the reason why I find the strength to continue this. In particular thank you @hyucksong for your lovely comments on Believe a Demon - your words helped inspire me to continue Jeno’s story! And of course, thank you @chenle​ for allowing me to use her guardian devil idea that sparked this series! if you want to read it, here it is!

Pairing: Jeno x fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, angel/demon!au

Triggers: death, cancer (not as much as in “Love a Demon” though)

Notes: reading the other stories aren’t necessary to understanding this story - however, it might be helpful to read “Love a Demon,” and the other member’s stories are mentioned here as well, so reading the other parts will shed some more light on the series as a whole.

Word Count: 9.5k

Loving a demon comes at a price.

NCT Masterlist | Angels and Demons

You really aren’t doing anything, just leaning against a shelf of CDs, eyes closed, head bobbing slightly to the beat of the song playing in your brother’s shop. And yet Jeno can’t take his eyes off of you.

A new assignment. You shouldn’t be anything to Jeno but a simple star imprinted into his left wrist, someone he has to save when the time comes. But you might be one of the most simplistically beautiful people Jeno has ever seen, and that makes you dangerous.

Maybe not dangerous in the traditional sense. You (probably) won’t come at him with a knife or gun, but even if you did, Jeno could easily fight you off. No, feelings are far more dangerous than any weapon. Look at what happened to Chenle. Maybe the fallen angel is happy now, but at what cost?

Jeno is happy now. He will not make things more complicated because of strange feelings. He’ll do his duty, and that includes knowing your face so he can save you when the time comes.

He’s not stalking you. He really isn’t, or so he tells himself. Sure, you can’t see him – no one can, he’s made himself invisible – and he’s watching you, but it’s all for his job. It’s all because you’re his assignment.

The tiny voice in the back of his head says otherwise, though.

Scowling slightly, Jeno wills his thoughts to go away. You are an assignment, nothing more, nothing less. He now knows what you look like. Now he can save you when needed.

He takes one last look at your pretty face and then leaves, disappearing in a flash of light.

. . . . .

When the star first burns on Jeno’s wrist, he doesn’t wait. Years of practice have honed the instinct and in less than a second, he’s disappearing from his conversation with Renjun into a shower of light.

Immediately, he homes in on your stunned face and the huge block falling from the crane overhead. His arm stretches out to grab your limp hand and pull you to safety –

But someone gets there first. Someone he never thought he’d see again.

What is he doing here?

But there are too many people around to ask questions, and based off of your clear, confused eyes, you’re an exception, which just makes everything worse. So he beckons to Jaemin, all the while avoiding his gaze as much as possible, and reappears in a small alleyway.

You and Jaemin materialize into existence less than a second later. The demon wastes no time. “What are you doing here?” he yells.

“She’s my assignment, what about you?” Jeno snaps. His gaze locks on Jaemin’s hand still holding yours and a wave of bitter jealousy crashes through his chest.

Your hand shouldn’t be in Jaemin’s. It should be in his. You’re Jeno’s assignment, not Jaemin’s.

The lack of response from Jaemin brings a smug smile to Jeno’s lips and he looks up again, ready to berate Jaemin for interfering in matters that don’t belong to him. But Jaemin’s eyes are filled with confusion, not venom, so Jeno closes his mouth, equally confused.

“How can she be your assignment when she’s mine?”

“Stop lying,” Jeno retorts automatically, but Jaemin’s demeanor makes him pause. Years spent in heaven together have given Jeno a window into Jaemin’s character and he can easily tell when the demon is lying.

There are no indications of untruth in Jaemin’s expression and Jeno’s stomach flips. How can any of this be possible? There’s never been any account of a human having more than one guardian, so assuming Jaemin’s telling the truth, how can Jeno be your guardian as well?

“No lie, Jael.” Jaemin’s smirk makes Jeno want to slap him. Gone is any hint of warmth in his expression, any clue that the two of them used to be best friends. A pang hits Jeno’s heart but Jaemin’s next words push it away.

“Lost your touch? Can’t tell when I’m lying or not anymore?”

That hurts. And maybe it shouldn’t hurt that much, to hear Jaemin taunt him and call him by his God-given name, but it does. Jeno’s scowl deepens.

“Don’t call me that,” he snarls. “You don’t deserve to.”

“Um, guys?” Your small voice cuts into their argument, diffusing some of the tension beginning to build. Jeno looks over and immediately feels guilty when he sees your white knuckles clutching your bag and the cautious confusion in your eyes. “What… what’s going on?”

Jeno sneaks a look at Jaemin. Who will be the one to explain?

“I saw the block falling… and then someone pulled me away? Who was it?”

The green jealousy wraps around Jeno’s heart again. He wishes he could say it was him, but he isn’t a liar. So he only watches with narrowed eyes as Jaemin claims responsibility.

Your soft smile eases some of the bitterness Jeno feels, even though it’s mostly directed at Jaemin. He almost finds himself relaxing until you utter your last three words, smiling at Jaemin.

“I owe you.”

Jeno clenches his fist. He can’t stay quiet any longer. “No, you don’t,” he snaps. “It was his job.”

“Job?” You look very lost, once again.

Jeno ignores the murderous look Jaemin throws at him. “Why do you ruin everything, Ja – Jeno? Now we have to tell her!”

He flinches. He tries not to. But somehow, Jaemin not using his God-given name hurts a little more than him using it.

Why did he say anything? He promised himself not to get involved in any sort of feelings with you, but here he is, saying stupid things because for once, he can’t keep his mouth shut. Still, he has to maintain a façade. So he only shrugs slightly.

“We’re…” Jaemin sighs. “Well, he’s a guardian angel.” He jerks a thumb sharply at Jeno. “And, um, I’m a demon. A guardian demon.”

Silence.

“Angels and demons exist?”

“Yes, they do.” Jeno flashes a tiny smirk at Jaemin, who curbs his annoyance, but not quickly enough for Jeno to not notice. A rush of mean satisfaction runs down Jeno’s spine.

“I’ve never heard of a guardian demon before,” you murmur, looking between the two boys. Your gaze lingers a bit longer on Jaemin. Jeno tries not to be annoyed.

“Well, now you have.” Jaemin laughs a little.

It’s too hard to not be annoyed. Jeno allows the feelings to flood through him, tired of keeping them at bay. He glares at his former best friend.

“So I have a guardian angel and a guardian demon?” you ask. Jeno’s annoyance fades away, replaced with concern for you. You’re taking it surprisingly well, however. “How come I’ve never seen either of you until now?”

“Well, technically you’re only supposed to have one.” Jeno grimaces. “Either an angel or a demon. But I guess the universe screwed up this time,” he continues, emphasizing the words “screwed up.” The look he sends Jaemin is nothing less than poisonous. “And we only appear when you’re in a life or death situation, like just now.”

Slowly, you nod. “Interesting,” you mumble. “Well, it was nice meeting you…?”

Names. You want names. Jeno panics for a second, instinctively glancing at Jaemin. They come to a wordless agreement before tearing their eyes away.

“Jaemin.”

“Jeno.”

“It was nice meeting you, Jaemin and Jeno.” You bow slightly to them both, the sweet smile back on your face. “I’ll leave now.” You begin to turn around, then turn back again. “Thank you for saving my life.”

Jeno wishes the smile you flash Jaemin was directed at him.

“The pleasure was all mine.” Jaemin’s smile is soft, so soft. Jeno hates him for it. “Try not to get into too much trouble.”

Jeno’s eye twitches and he misses your reply. It doesn’t matter. Once you’re gone, the tension thickens exponentially again as he stares into the eyes of the demon he used to call his best friend.

“Of course if the universe screwed up, it’d have to put me with you,” Jeno spits, allowing all the bitter loathing in his heart to coat his voice.

“You think this is any fun for me?” Jaemin crosses his arms, any hint of a smile gone.

There’s no point arguing. If they’re going to be paired up to save your life, Jeno’s going to see Jaemin’s face way more than he wants to (which is not at all). Better to just leave now, before he does something rash that will merit punishment.

He disappears, childishly hoping the resultant flash of light will blind Jaemin.

. . . . .

It happens at first by chance. Jeno’s walking around on earth, trying to enjoy the sunshine on his face. Renjun isn’t here at the moment, a fact that he’s secretly quite relieved about. The angel has only become more overbearing since Chenle fell.

Though Jeno sympathizes with Renjun – after all, he’s the only one who knows Renjun’s entire story – he feels for Chenle too. He misses the younger angel and his dolphin laugh, even though instances of the high-pitched screeches had all but died away during the years after their original group split up. Still, seeing Chenle’s smile used to be one of the high points in his day, after Renjun almost stopped smiling completely.

So Jeno tries to enjoy the day and take some comfort in the healthy aliveness of the city around him. All around him are people who are living their lives, blissfully ignorant of the turbulent worlds beyond their comprehension.

In a small part of his heart, Jeno aches to return to that simpler time. He doesn’t regret staying in heaven. Renjun needs him and in a way, Jeno needs Renjun just as much. But sometimes, ignorance really is bliss.

He tries to shake off these heavy thoughts that contrast so darkly with the bright sunshine of the day, but something just feels… off. Like something will go wrong. Jeno attempts a smile in the hopes that faking happiness will bring the true emotion, drifting his gaze to the shops that line the streets.

Then he scowls. Any tinge of happiness he felt disappears.

Of course Jaemin would appear to ruin his day.

Mumbling apologies to those who bump into him, Jeno turns and starts walking in the opposite direction, stopping in front of a shop window full of CDs and albums. Inside, he sees Jaemin smiling at someone.

As he peers in as surreptitiously as he can, he realizes that that someone is you.

If there was anything in his hands, Jeno would have crushed it with how hard he’s clenching his fists right now. What is Jaemin doing? Exception or no, he shouldn’t be seeing you unless he’s attempting to protect you. And as far as Jeno can see, there’s nothing life-threatening in your way at the moment.

Through the window, he watches Jaemin say something. You laugh in response. Jeno’s teeth clench with his fists, inordinately annoyed at the scene in front of him.

It’s just because Jaemin isn’t following the damn rules, he tells himself bitterly. Stupid demons and their blatant disregard for the established rules surrounding interaction with humans. Look at Haechan. Then Mark. And now Jaemin too?

Feelings are such a messy topic, Jeno thinks in disgust. He should go. This isn’t any of his business. Let Jaemin be punished for whatever he’s doing – Jeno may resent Lucifer, but he does mete punishment fairly.

But he stays. Something roots him in place in front of the shop window, watching your interaction with Jaemin. And the longer he stays, the more his chest tightens.

It’s just annoyance, he tells himself as he finally walks away. Nothing more, nothing less. He has no feelings for you. It’s just annoyance and anger at Jaemin.

Still, the voice in the back of his mind tells him otherwise.

Shut up, he tells the voice.

His mind responds with an image of your laughing eyes and smiling face.

. . . . .

So what if Jeno returns to earth more and more often these days? Renjun might question it, but Jeno just tells him he needs to get out of heaven. The ever-present brilliant, white purity gets stifling.

The excuse, for the most part, is true. Especially after recent events, Jeno finds himself feeling a little trapped within heaven’s bright clouds. But that still doesn’t explain why Jeno consistently returns to the same place every time he descends.

There’s a little café next door to your music shop. Over a couple of weeks, he learns that the shop belongs to your brother, and you merely help there part-time. In front of the café, there are a few small tables and Jeno often sits there, absently sipping at a cup of coffee.

It feels a little stalker-ish. He doesn’t talk to you like Jaemin does, but he tries not to watch you too obviously either. He doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing there. All he knows is that seeing your smile and hearing your voice, even if they aren’t directed at him, make him feel a little happier every day.

But his blood boils whenever he watches Jaemin enter the shop with a cup of coffee, exiting with your hand in his and sweet words on his lips.

What is Jaemin doing? Jeno wonders. Is he hoping to form a relationship with you? Surely even he wouldn’t be that stupid? That would just hurt you in the end.

This is why Jeno avoids feelings, tries to keep everything professional. Because if he doesn’t, he could just end up in the same sticky situation he is sure Jaemin will end up in. He’s not blind. He sees Jaemin’s small winces when you hit his arm a little too hard, sees the bright red markings on his skin where his shirt dips a little too low in the back. Lucifer is punishing him, definitely.

He doesn’t feel any satisfaction, though. Maybe Jaemin is getting what he deserves, but he just keeps coming back like a fool. If anything, he feels anger. Frustration. When will Jaemin learn that actions have consequences? His actions will only end up hurting himself. And more importantly, they will only end up hurting you.

So he corners Jaemin one day. He ignores Jaemin’s yelp of surprise when he grabs his shoulder, ignores the small wince of pain and look of loathing Jaemin flashes his way. Schooling his features into a cold glare, he snaps, “Leave her alone.”

Jaemin’s features set into ice. “And why should I?”

“You’re corrupting her,” Jeno snaps. “And you’re not supposed to be with her, exception or no.”

He can tell he’s hit a nerve and that just infuriates him even more. Jaemin knows what the consequences of his actions could be – he just doesn’t care.

“Too bad I’ve never quite been one for rules, though, Jael.” Jaemin’s lighthearted tone is forced and he refuses to look into Jeno’s eyes. It’s all Jeno can do to not smack the younger demon in the face and force him to make eye contact. “And corrupting? I think that’s a bit of a strong word, don’t you think?”

“Clearly not if I just used it,” Jeno spits. “I choose my words carefully, unlike you.”

A beat of silence. Then – “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeno lets out a carefully measured sigh, biting back his instinct to just punch Jaemin in his stupid face. Ignoring all of the passerby’s looks, he grabs Jaemin harshly and forces the demon to face him. “What do you think you’re doing?” Jeno hisses. “Telling her sweet words, making promises you can’t keep, revealing everything? She’s a human, she’s your assignment, for heaven’s sake. All you’re doing is hurting her!”

His outburst leaves him breathless. He has so much more to say and he almost spits it all out, but he forces himself to shut up.

Jaemin fights to maintain a neutral expression. “If I didn’t know better,” he responds coolly, “I’d think you cared for her.” He raises an eyebrow. “But we both know that isn’t true, right?”

Jeno wants to slap the smirk off of Jaemin’s lips, even as the demon turns to walk away.

“I may not be able to stop you,” Jeno warns, “but your kind most certainly can.”

He sees Jaemin’s jaw clench, but he doesn’t look back.

Jeno remains there for some time, gazing into the shop window and watching you help customers with that bright smile on your face. Something in his heart aches a little.

It doesn’t matter. Jeno turns around, looking for a quiet place where he can disappear without notice.

You don’t deserve for Jaemin to break your heart. You don’t deserve the pain he or Jaemin will bring.

As he disappears into light, Jeno promises himself that he will help you live as long as you can.

No matter what.

. . . . .

Several months after your first meeting, Jeno finally musters up the courage to visit you under the pretense of making sure you’re okay. Your most recent brush with death, an encounter with an armed man in a dark alley at night, left you very shaken and truly, Jeno feels bad enough for you that he’s willing to break the rules of heaven and hell to make sure you’re alright.

“Jeno!” you exclaim as he walks through the doors. For a moment, Jeno contemplates running away. The full force of your bright countenance is almost too much for him to handle.

He steels himself. He came to see you and ensure that you’re alright. He broke rules to come here. So instead of bolting, Jeno gives you a small smile. “Hello, Y/N.”

A short bout of silence hangs in the air as the two of you simply look at each other. Jeno starts to feel a little uncomfortable. Who knows what Jaemin’s told you about him, or even about angels in general? What if you already hate him?

The thought of that hurts a little more than he thought it would.

But your smile doesn’t fade. If anything, it becomes gentler as Jeno’s discomfort grows.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Jeno finally blurts out. “You looked a little shaken up last time. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

Pain flashes across your eyes for a moment, and then it clears. “It’s alright.” You look down for second, then grin brightly at him. “Besides, I have you and Jaemin to protect me, don’t I?”

Well, yes, you do. Until some predetermined point.

A point that Jeno is more than willing to push back for you.

“Yes,” is all he replies. “Did…” He trails off. He wants badly to ask if Jaemin has already come by to comfort you, but that’s a dumb question. Of course he has. He wouldn’t have waited several days, unlike Jeno.

“Hm?” You look at him questioningly.

“Never mind.” Jeno shakes his head. “I just came to make sure you were all right, and you seem to be fine.” He does his best to smile, turning to leave.

“Would you mind staying a little longer?”

He freezes in place. Why would you ask that?

“I just…” Jeno turns back around to see you playing with your fingers. “I’m very curious about this whole angels and demons thing. Jaemin’s told me some of it, but I’ve only ever gotten his point of view. I want to know what you think, as an angel.”

If he stays, he will be a hypocrite. He will be doing just what he berated Jaemin for doing – for breaking the rules, speaking to you, telling you about his world.

But at least he isn’t whispering sweet nothings in your ear. At least he isn’t giving anything but rote information, not giving into the fluttering feelings in his chest. He might even be helping you by giving you another point of view to see things from.

“Sure.”

This time, the smile on his face is real.

. . . . .

Jeno hands you your cup of coffee across the table. With the sun so bright, the two of you are sitting across from each other in a darker corner of the café. The air conditioning is blissfully cool against Jeno’s skin.

“So what do you want to know?” Jeno asks to start the conversation.

“Tell me about fate.” Your face turns serious. “I know what demons believe – or at least I know what Jaemin believes.” You gaze at him intently. “I want to know what you believe.”

Jeno swallows, wondering how best to express himself. Several seconds pass, then he opens his mouth to speak.

“Fate exists. It is real,” he begins carefully. “But as an angel, I believe fate can be changed. Who says that the universe has to set the future in absolute stone? No one knows.”

Your gaze, steady in his, gives him the courage to continue. “I don’t believe in unnecessary tampering with fate. But I don’t think it’s quite fair that some die so early, when they have their entire lives ahead of themselves, while others who are far less deserving are allowed to enjoy life for so much longer.” He takes a sip from his cup. “Demons will tell you that it is not our duty to meddle with fate, that the universe has a balance we cannot upset. However, if someone deserves to live longer, I can’t stand idly by. I will do my best to help them enjoy the gift of life for longer.”

You nod slowly. “I see.”

“That’s my view.” Jeno attempts to smile. “I think I’m correct. I think the demons are very wrong, so I can’t get along with them. But…” He swallows. It’s hard to get the next words out, but he manages. “People are not all the same. In fact, not all of us angels agree on things completely. Some angels I know don’t believe in fate at all. So if someone else has another view, they are not necessarily wrong. Merely… different. Different from me.”

If Renjun could hear him now, he’d probably give Jeno the cold shoulder for a week. But Renjun isn’t here, and for once, Jeno is free to express the thoughts he’s kept buried in his mind since the first day someone shook up his thoughts.

“Why did you want to ask me about this, anyway?” Jeno looks at you curiously. “I would’ve thought Jaemin would tell you all you wanted to know.” He’s not sure if he’s successful at keeping all the bitterness out of his tone.

You purse your lips. “I like to hear all sides of a story,” you finally reply. “In order to form an opinion, one must always hear all views, no? Your beliefs are as important as Jaemin’s, and even though Jaemin might do well in summarizing the way you think, you do much better explaining because you know yourself.”

He feels oddly touched at that, touched that you trust him enough to listen to his opinion. His heart beats a little faster.

“I’m glad you trust me enough to talk to me.” Jeno smiles softly.

“I’m glad I have someone else to speak to,” you reply.

Jeno’s eyebrows furrow at that. “I thought Jaemin might give you plenty to talk about.”

A pensive look stretches across your face. “Jaemin is lovely.” You smile, though it’s a bit more reserved than before. “But like I said, he only expresses one set of beliefs.” Your smile turns sadder. “And to form an opinion on this… matter… is very important to me.”

Worry furrows Jeno’s eyebrows even further as he carefully takes in your appearance. He didn’t quite notice it before, but your eye bags are a little darker, your face paler. Is he just imagining it? Or are you really sick?

And if you are sick, is it life-threatening?

A stone drops in Jeno’s stomach. Jeno can attempt to prolong lives through many means – carrying someone out of a fire, blocking a knife, pulling them back from tipping over a bridge. But terminal illness?

That isn’t something he can easily help.

You place your hand over Jeno’s, jerking him out of his thoughts. “I’m fine,” you murmur, answering his unspoken question. You smile gently as though to prove it, though Jeno still isn’t fully convinced. “Thank you for talking with me.” Your smile grows wider. “I know you’re a little more of a rule-follower than Jaemin is, but if you ever want to come over to visit or anything, the shop is always open to you.”

Jeno blushes a little. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

. . . . .

He doesn’t expect to be cornered later that week but Jaemin exists to surprise him. Jeno is lying down in a small, secluded park, staring at the sky when Jaemin yells. “Jael!”

Jeno already knows this can’t be good when he stands, turning around, to see Jaemin’s snarl.

“What do you want?” Jeno snaps. Trust a demon to ruin his day, he thinks.

Jaemin’s eyes flash with fire and pain. “So you told me to stay away from Y/N,” he hisses, “but then you go and tell her a bunch of crap about me, right?” He heaves a breath. “Hypocrite, much?”

A bunch of crap? Jeno thinks that’s a little unfair. Though he did express his own perspective as an angel, nowhere did he outright bash Jaemin for his beliefs. Staring into the demon’s eyes, though, Jeno thinks maybe you didn’t get to tell that part. Because clearly the two of you talked.

Jaemin’s always been a hot-blooded one.

“What is wrong with you?!” The wind starts picking up on Jaemin’s anger, swirling leaves about their feet. He doesn’t even seem to notice. “What is your problem? I get that you hate me and I do too but for fuck’s sake, I would never purposely try to ruin your happiness!”

His happiness. You are Jaemin’s happiness. His joy. His love.

Something sinks in Jeno’s chest.

“So you admit it, then?” Jeno finally asks, his quiet voice a sharp contrast to Jaemin’s barbed tones. “You admit that she’s your happiness?”

The wind grows stronger, but Jeno holds his ground, staring into Jaemin’s conflicted eyes. He wonders briefly why he doesn’t loudly proclaim his love for you.

Then he knows.

Despite Jaemin’s hot blood and quick temper, he’s also very sensitive to emotion. At this point, there’s no way he hasn’t picked up on Jeno’s feelings for you.

And even though there are years of hatred between the two, Jeno knows that Jaemin wouldn’t be able to stomach gloating in front of him, not with so many emotions involved.

There’s no resentment left in Jeno. After years of people leaving him, after years of reflection, Jeno can’t bring himself to hate someone for feeling love. His hatred led to Haechan’s departure with Mark and Jaemin and Jisung. Then Chenle. Years of hurt suddenly manifest in Jeno’s chest and the pressure makes him want to collapse, but he forces himself to remain standing.

No, he won’t condemn feelings. He’ll just make sure those feelings are healthy. That you’ll be good for each other.

And right now, Jeno isn’t so sure Jaemin is performing to his expectations.

He studiously avoids Jaemin’s gaze as he disappears into a flash of light.

. . . . .

It takes weeks for the urge to build up again, enough so that Jeno takes action. He’s very good at suppressing his own feelings, and usually they don’t bother him again once he’s ignored them for long enough. But the urge to visit you only grows stronger, bit by bit, until it’s so strong that Jeno can’t ignore it any longer. Against his better judgement, he touches down in front of your shop and enters the door.

He can’t see you, though he thinks he hears your voice in the back room. Awkwardly, he stands by a rack of CDs and waits. The wait gives him some time to think.

Jeno likes you. That much is obvious, even to himself, and he can’t deny it any longer. What else could explain the urge to break the rules and visit you? What else could explain the stuttering of his heart and the burst of happiness in his chest whenever he sees you smile?

So maybe Jeno has less-than-neutral feelings for you, something he never thought would happen. A little burst of annoyed shame colors his cheeks slightly. He used to berate Jaemin for going against the rules and falling for a human, and now he’s done the same.

In his defense, though, he isn’t acting on the feelings. The most he’s doing is making sure you’re okay. No teasing words, no flirtatious smiles. No empty promises.

But none of that matters, does it? It isn’t like being a gentleman will win you over. It’s already very clear that Jaemin has your heart, and even though Jeno would dearly like to compete, loyalty to heaven and concern for you prevent him from doing so. He won’t make himself happy at the cost of his wings and your smile.

Lost in thought, Jeno nearly misses you coming out of the back room. He only notices when you call out his name, eagerly heading toward him. He gives you a small smile and a wave before his eyes widen in shock.

If you were pale last time, your skin has now taken on a bit of a sickly tinge. The bags under your eyes are gone, but Jeno can see the foundation cracking slightly where they would be. The sparkle in your eyes is still there, but barely present, and your smile seems a little forced.

Quickly, he looks down at his wrist at your star. Only then does he realize how pale it’s become.

His heart drops.

“Are you alright?” Jeno asks, almost reaching out a hand to touch your face. He quickly stops himself.

He knows it’s bad when you don’t even deny it. “I don’t think so.” Your lips sag into a half-smile. “Haven’t gotten any diagnosis yet, but I don’t think it’s going to be good.”

“Sit down,” Jeno instructs, heading over to a small bench beside a shelf of albums. Quietly, you sit. Jeno takes his place beside you.

“You knew,” he starts. “You knew the last time we talked.”

You shake your head slightly. “I didn’t know at the time. I suspected it though.” You bring a hand to your heart. “Sometimes you just… feel things. You know?”

Jeno does know. He nods. “Have you told Jaemin yet?”

The question burns on his teeth and tongue as the words leave his mouth, but he needs to know if Jaemin is still following his heart. What if that weakens you further? Emotional tolls can lead to physical degradation, and Jeno doesn’t want any of that to happen to you, even if Jaemin might make you happy.

You shake your head. “No. I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

The answer surprises him. He knows the two of you spoke at least once after you met with him, and that the conversation might have led to a quasi-fight. But the fact that you haven’t told Jaemin of your condition and the fact that he hasn’t come by in weeks speaks volumes.

Did his words have that much of an effect on the two of you? The thought should make Jeno feel some mean happiness, but he only feels slightly sick.

“He knows we met.” You turn your clear eyes to Jeno again. “I told him a little bit of what you said. It’s partly my fault – I was a little upset at him so he left. He just… didn’t come back.”

“That’s… that’s not right,” Jeno whispers. He shakes his head. “I met with him after you talked, I guess.” He grimaces a little at the memory. “He wasn’t very… happy?”

You snort without mirth. “I didn’t tell him because at the time, I wasn’t sure of anything. But I think he does suspect something’s up.”

Jeno sighs. “I’m sorry if my words made things difficult between you two.”

“Don’t be.” You touch his arm softly. “You told the truth, which was what I needed most. I needed your words. I just… I guess Jaemin assumed you’d talked shit or something, and I didn’t get the chance to tell him you didn’t.” You look down again. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Jeno smiles down at you, then notes the time. “I should probably go now, but please get some rest. Even if nothing’s official yet, I don’t want you – I mean, you shouldn’t get hurt.”

You thank Jeno with the gentlest look in your eyes. The look stays in his mind as he leaves the shop, giving him the determination to do what he must. Even if he hates it.

. . . . .

He scours the world to find Jaemin and finally finds the demon taking a walk along a quiet beach. Clenching his fists and jaw, Jeno touches down in front of him, making Jaemin yelp in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” Jaemin finally asks after a long period of silence.

Anger boils in Jeno’s chest. “Y/N told me you haven’t been to see her in weeks.”

More silence.

“So you’re still visiting her?” Jaemin asks, looking something between furious and resigned.

“That’s what you’re fixated on?” Jeno yells. “She’s sick and needs you by her side and that’s what you’re fixated on?”

Jaemin’s eyes widen. “She’s sick?” he whispers.

“You dense piece of shit.” Jeno kicks up sand out of frustration. “She’s waiting for you! She needs you!”

“I thought she hated me,” Jaemin murmurs, more to himself than to Jaemin.

If you could see the look in her eyes when she spoke of you, you would know she definitely doesn’t hate you, Jaemin.

“Cut the bullshit.” Jeno roughly shakes Jaemin’s shoulders. “Go back to Y/N. Comfort her. Do your best to keep her happy. You hear me?” He shakes him again. “Do you?”

Jaemin pulls away. “So you don’t make her happy?”

Jeno swallows. “Not the way you do.”

The tension in the air thickens.

“Sorry,” Jaemin mumbles.

Hearing Jaemin apologize does something to Jeno’s heart. It doesn’t flip-flop, but it stutters bit little. It feels a little warm. He looks at Jaemin with less venom in his expression.

“Don’t be,” he replies brusquely, even though he still hurts. “I care about her. Not about you.” He stares right into Jaemin’s eyes. “Go back to her, or I’ll hunt you down.”

Jaemin nods, then disappears into his shadow. Jeno stays for a little while longer, mulling over his own thoughts. In the end, one goal emerges.

Jaemin may make you happy. But Jaemin is a demon. He believes in predestined fate, in letting the universe work out the way it wants.

Jeno is an angel. He believes you deserve a longer life.

So even though Jaemin may be your happiness, Jeno will do all he can to keep you alive as long as possible.

Just so you can feel happy longer.

. . . . .

Jeno visits you a little more often, but always avoids Jaemin to the best of his ability. He manipulates the doctors at the hospital you end up at, pays for some of your bills, gets you moved into one of the nicest wards at the facility. He may not know anything about medicine, but he can pay your bills and get you the best treatment.

But it irks him that Jaemin does nothing. He brings you snacks and books, but where is his dedication to keeping you alive? Jeno understands that Jaemin is a demon, but surely your love won’t prevent him from wanting you to live?

“Jaoel,” he calls out on one particularly bad day. His bad mood is half the reason why he won’t call Jaemin by his human name. Jaemin’s walking out of the hospital when he hears Jeno. No one else is around.

“Who’s the one that didn’t want me calling them by their God-given name?” Jaemin mocks.

Jeno bites down on his lip and prays to the heavens for patience. Anger and impatience and sorrow and terror roil in his mind, condensing into one single thought.

“Are you really going to let her die?”

The wind starts to pick up, but this time, it isn’t because of Jaemin. It’s because of Jeno. Flecks of dirt and small pebbles start to rise around their feet but he can’t find it in himself to care.

Because the hopelessness at possibly losing you is far more important to him now than anything else in the world.

“Don’t you dare,” Jaemin whispers.

“Don’t I dare what, Jaoel?” Jeno steps forward. “Tell me. Don’t. I. Dare. What?”

Silence, save for the whistling of the wind.

“You’re not the only one who loves her, you know,” Jeno hisses.

“And you’re not the person who knows best for her!” Jaemin yells.

“And are you, Jaemin? ARE YOU?!”

Because at least Jeno’s trying. He can’t see any of that effort from Jaemin.

“No,” Jaemin snaps, “but I know that she doesn’t deserve to suffer even more than she already has.” Pain clouds his eyes. “Would you really want her to suffer like this?” he murmurs, turning away.

That last action, Jaemin turning away, sets Jeno off. “Do you really love her if you would let her go so easily?” Jeno finally spits, giving voice to the thoughts ricocheting through his mind at the speed of light. “Is that really love, Jaoel, is that all she’s worth to you?”

Jaemin spins around. “Don’t you dare insinuate that I want her to die!”

“If you truly loved her, you’d want her to live as long as possible!” Jeno yells.

“And this is what I hate about you angels!” Jaemin screams. “You always think everything can be perfect, but it can’t. Nothing can be perfect! No one, just because they are who they are, can live longer or shorter than they are supposed to! You can’t decide that!”

“And look at you.” Jeno’s chest is heaving with all the pain he feels in his heart. “All high and mighty because you think you’re doing the right thing. But should some lives not be preserved for as long as possible?” Tears threaten to slip out of Jeno’s eyes but he holds them back with herculean effort. “You can’t tell me you don’t believe she deserves it. No, not even her – you can’t tell me you’ve never met a single person who deserved to live longer than they did!”

The ache in Jeno’s heart feels stronger, heavier than ever. If he was ever in doubt of it, he is sure now.

He, Lee Jeno, Jaoel, angel of God, is in love with you. And it hurts to know that you will never love him back. That your affectionate eyes will never gaze upon him with anything more than friendship, that your gentle touches will never mean anything more than small comfort.

If anyone deserves to live longer, Jeno thinks, it is you. He can’t understand why Jaemin doesn’t see that.

“Do you think I want her to die?” Jaemin’s whisper carries like a gunshot. “Do you really think I want her to die?”

No. Jeno doesn’t. But he thinks Jaemin’s actions say otherwise.

“Life is only precious because there is death. The only thing people can do is treasure life as long as they have it.” Jaemin swallows, and for the first time, Jeno sees the glimmer of a tear in Jaemin’s eyes.

“Then shouldn’t people have it longer?” he whispers.

“If that is so, Jael, then why aren’t humans immortal?”

Jaemin’s next words strike Jeno straight in the heart.

“Part of loving someone is knowing when you must let them go.”

. . . . .

Renjun’s waiting for Jeno when he returns to heaven with an uncharacteristically blank look on his face. He says nothing when Jeno greets him, only looks at him, lost in thought.

“Renjun?” Jeno plasters a fake smile to his face, waving a hand in front of Renjun’s eyes. “You good?”

“You love someone, don’t you?”

No.

Renjun can’t have found out. It can’t be true. Terror races through Jeno’s heart and he can only think no, Renjun can’t tell anyone this because Jeno can’t lose his wings and his ability to protect.

He can’t.

“Relax.” Renjun’s hand on Jeno’s arm jerks him out of his spiraling thoughts and he fully takes in the look on Renjun’s face. “I won’t tell.”

“How…?” Jeno whispers.

Renjun shrugs. The look on his face is a little hurt, but also very understanding and even a little ashamed. “You were disappearing to earth for longer periods than usual. There’s also a very obvious look on your face. I got curious. Please don’t be angry but… I followed you the last time. I heard your argument with… him.”

Jeno should probably feel some sort of annoyance that Renjun followed him, but the lost, sad look on his friend’s face wipes any of that away. Instead, he sits Renjun down and drapes an arm around his shoulder.

“Do you think I’ve been too harsh?” Renjun mumbles. He turns to Jeno. “Don’t lie to me. It’s… I mean, it’s gotten to the point where even you’ve been hiding things from me.”

A wave of shame crashes over Jeno, but he only sees understanding and sadness in Renjun’s eyes. It gives him the courage to nod a little. “Too harsh… might be putting it lightly,” Jeno says carefully.

Renjun sighs. “I’m sorry.” A tear spills out of his eye. “I’m sorry I’ve been so fixated on heaven, so fixated on… me, to give any thought to you. Or Chenle. Or anyone else.” He swallows as another tear runs down his face. “It just hurt. Hurt too much.”

Jeno knows what he’s talking about. After all, he’s the only one Renjun told his entire story to. And the knowledge of what Renjun is feeling only urges him to pull his friend closer, which he does.

“I won’t deny that your behavior was… really harsh and bitter.” Jeno swallows. “But I understand. You loved her. It was betrayal.”

“But I let it get to the point… the p-point where everyone left.” Renjun hiccups, trying to swallow his incoming sobs. “First her. Then Haechan and Mark and Jaemin and Jisung. Then Chenle. What if…” He tries again. “What if…”

Jeno’s heart clenches. “Never,” he whispers. “I won’t leave you. Ever.”

“I’m sorry.” Renjun is full on sobbing into Jeno’s shoulder now. “I’m sorry I ruined everything. I’m sorry I ruined our relationship with the others, I’m sorry I ruined your friendship with Jaemin. I’m sorry I drove Chenle away. I’m sorry he was kicked out of heaven.”

“Wait.”

Renjun lifts his head.

“You mean you weren’t the reason Chenle lost his wings?” Jeno whispers.

Renjun’s lips curl in an ashamed smile. “My actions must have been so bad that you’d think that of me,” he murmurs. “But no. Someone else saw. I don’t know who, but it wasn’t me. I was angry and betrayed, but it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do that.”

Now it’s Jeno’s heart that fills with shame and against his will, tears start slipping out of his eyes too. “I’m sorry too,” he whispers, pulling Renjun close. “I’m sorry I ever thought that of you.”

The next few minutes are only filled with sniffles and hiccupped sobs.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Renjun finally whispers. “It’s my fault Mark and the others left without saying anything to us.”

Jeno thinks for a moment. “No,” he answers. “I think… I think this was a long time coming. We had different beliefs that we pretended not to see. Haechan’s trial was just the tipping point.”

They stay silent long enough to watch the lights start blinking out in the city beneath them.

“Tell me about her,” Renjun suddenly says.

Jeno looks at him, surprised.

“Tell me about the girl you love.” Renjun smiles, and for the first time in over a decade, it looks truly genuine. “I want to know the girl who melted Jeno’s stone-cold heart.”

“Hey!” Jeno whines, pushing Renjun away slightly. “I don’t have a stone-cold heart!”

Renjun only raises an eyebrow and leans back into Jeno’s shoulder. “Tell me about her.” His voice becomes quiet. “I want to hear about your love.”

Something happy and sad fills Jeno’s body with warmth. “All right,” he murmurs.

And that night, as they watch the stars, Jeno tells his true friend of the girl with the gentleness of the stars in her eyes.

. . . . .

Jeno steps into your room quietly, closing the door gently behind him. “Hi,” he greets.

“Hi.” You smile at him from the hospital bed.

He smiles, sitting down at the chair beside your bed. “Just making sure you’re all right.” He places a bag of cookies on a small table nearby. “And…” He swallows. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

“Of course.” You touch his arm, and in that press of your skin against his, he feels the warmth of friendship. And though he knows it’ll never be a touch of love, he finds that he’ll be okay with that. The realization gives him the courage to keep speaking.

You listen intently as Jeno admits his feelings for you. Not once do you turn away or let your gaze waver and Jeno only feels his heart expand with affection. This is the reason he fell for you, he thinks. Your quiet strength and strong conviction.

“I know you love Jaemin, and it’s clear to see that Jaemin loves you too.” The smile he wears still carries bitterness, but far less than it used to. It’s a start. “I just wanted to give you closure about me. I won’t compete. I just… I don’t think I could let you go without telling you how I feel.”

He only just finishes the sentence when the door opens.

Speak of the devil.

Jaemin stands in the doorway.

“Hi,” you greet, a smile on your face. Jeno sees the love in your eyes and when he looks over at Jaemin, he finds it mirrored in his.

You belong together.

“Hi,” Jaemin greets, shooting a cautious glance at Jeno. “Why’s he here?”

“We were discussing things,” Jeno replies, a little miffed at Jaemin for interrupting. “Can you leave us for a bit?”

Jeno watches the two of you exchange a look, then Jaemin nods and closes the door behind him.

“Back to where we left off,” you joke, but then your expression turns serious. “Thank you, Jeno.” Your smile is genuine. “Telling the truth… that really means a lot to me.”

“I hope things won’t be weird between us now?” Jeno finds the courage to ask. “I’d like to still be… friends? I guess?”

Your laugh fills the room with cheer. “Always, Jeno.” You squeeze his hand quickly. “Friends. Always.”

There are no regrets left in Jeno’s heart when he stands up to leave. A small smile has made its way onto his face by the time he opens the door, but the sight beyond in front of him quickly erases it. “Sorry,” he mumbles to Jaemin, whom he nearly knocked over with the door. He quickly begins to walk away.

“Hey!” Jaemin yells down the hall. “What were you talking about in there?”

Jeno turns. “I was giving her some closure. About me.”

Jaemin’s shoulders tense.

“Don’t worry.” The laugh he lets out has no joy behind it. “She still loves you.”

The two of them stare at each other for a long time, a thousand words hanging unsaid in the air between them. Jeno’s just about to leave when Jaemin utters two words.

“I’m sorry.”

Jeno’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. So many emotions ripple in Jaemin’s eyes and it would take Jeno years to decipher them all, but he can pick out the remorse. Remorse for leaving. For the betrayal. For loving you. For everything.

The tightness in his chest loosens as the tension leak out of his expression. “Don’t be.”

Jaemin’s gaze remains steady. “But I am.”

For several seconds that feel like hours, the two boys stare at each other. Then Jeno nods a little, turning away.

He accepts it. He accepts the apology. Maybe one day, he’ll find the courage to apologize to Jaemin too.

. . . . .

Jeno is there when you die. He knows the drill. Your star glows, he touches it, and then he finds himself in the corner of your room, invisible. Jaemin might be able to sense his presence, but if he does, he doesn’t show it.

Understandable. With everything going on, Jeno is only able to focus on you. He can’t imagine how Jaemin must feel.

Well, actually, he can. But no matter. Jaemin should be the one at your side. Not him.

So Jeno watches from the corner, watches Jaemin hold your hand, watches him kiss you one last time, watches your eyes flutter open and your mouth whisper something to the demon you love. He watches your eyes shut, watches your hand go slack in Jaemin’s, watches the heart monitor go flat.

He leaves immediately after, unable to stomach the tears of your relatives and unable to hide his own. Renjun holds him that night as Jeno hiccups sobs under the stars. You will appear in heaven soon, he knows, but the pale purity of God’s realm is a far cry from the comforting reality of the city streets. He would give anything to give you the gift of life for just a little longer.

. . . . .

He finds you three days later. You’re being shown around by an older angel, looking healthy and whole and Jeno thinks his heart bursts when he sees you.

You look uncomfortable, though. Jeno can see it in your eyes, in the way you shift your weight from foot to foot as the angel explains things to you. He can see it in the blatant look of relief on your face when you see him, when the older angel finally lets you go with a practiced smile.

“You’re here,” is the first thing you say against Jeno’s chest when you crash into him in a massive hug. “Thank the stars.”

Jeno can barely find it in himself to say anything, so he only pats your head a little awkwardly. When you pull away, neither of you are dry-eyed.

“You want to find Jaemin, don’t you?” Jeno asks when the two of you are calmer.

You bite your lip as you nod. “I don’t know where to start, though,” you confess.

Staring into your eyes, Jeno falls in love again with your determination and perseverance. And in that moment, he makes a choice.

“I’ll help you.” He smiles a little. “Don’t worry.”

. . . . .

He sees Jaemin later that night, leaving a convenience store with Jisung. Head buried in a hoodie, Jeno doesn’t look up until right before he passes them. In that moment, he shares a glance with Jaemin.

I’m sorry, Jeno tries to say through his eyes. I’m sorry for your loss.

Jaemin’s look is one of apology as well.

Quickly, Jeno turns away. The two demons pass and melt into the shadows of a storefront. Jeno stares at the space where they disappeared for some time.

You’ll see her soon, Jaemin. He swallows. I promise.

. . . . .

“Here,” Jeno whispers, his eyes darting from side to side. He knows Renjun promised to cover for them, but he can’t help but be cautious. It took a lot of sneaking around to find this place and he really doesn’t want all of his hard work to be for nothing. “This is where the divide between earth and hell weakens. Just go down these stairs and wait. Someone will sense your presence and take you to Lucifer.”

Your eyes are bright with unshed tears. “Thank you, Jeno,” you barely whisper.

He squeezes your hand once. “When you get there, Lucifer may interrogate you.” His jaw tightens. “If he decides to allow you in, they will rip off your wings. I would tell you to be brave, but…” His eyes soften as he looks at you. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that.”

Unexpectedly, you seize Jeno into a tight embrace. “Thank you for doing this for me,” you whisper into his ear. “Thank you so much.”

Jeno starts a little.

Thank you for doing this for me.

In that moment, he realizes. It wasn’t just for you.

It was for love, yes. But friendship is also a type of love, is it not?

It was also for Jaemin.

“You’re welcome,” is all he can say in the face of this realization. Jeno bites his lip hard to keep the tears from falling. “Make sure Jaemin treats you right. If he doesn’t, you’re welcome to let me know.” A teasing half-smile appears on his trembling lips.

You laugh, and Jeno tries to memorize the sound. He hopes to hear your laugh many more times in the future, but just in case that doesn’t happen, he wants to keep a memory of it. A memory of you.

“Go, now.” Jeno gives you a gentle push. “Be brave.”

So what if his heart breaks a little as you descend the stairs?

. . . . .

Jeno sits with Renjun on a small field in the country, gazing at the night sky. The stars twinkle cheerfully against the blackness of night. The sight is comforting and soothes Jeno’s cracked heart.

“It hurt, didn’t it?” Renjun murmurs.

He nods. “Yes.” Because it did – it hurt a lot. But at the same time…

“But not as much as I expected.”

They sit in silence for a while. “How so?” Renjun finally asks.

That makes Jeno think for a bit. Why doesn’t he feel all the pain that he expected?

“Maybe…” Jeno starts slowly, “maybe it’s because I know we might meet again in the sky.”

Renjun hums a little, staring at the blanket of night.

“And I think…” Jeno places a hand over Renjun’s. “When you love someone, their happiness takes precedence over yours. If they’re happy, you will be too.”

“Yeah.” Renjun sighs. “But at the same time… everyone, not just her… they just left. I loved them all. Why did their leaving feel so difficult?”

“We were all close,” Jeno replies. “So close. It would’ve hurt anybody. You truly loved her and your story in general is just so built around giving people the life and love they deserve, so I guess everyone else’s departure just… hit you the hardest.”

“When did you become so wise?” Renjun looks over at him, a hint of a smile on his face.

Jeno smiles. “Well, a lot of things have made me think over the past year.”

They sit in silence for a while longer.

“Do you think anything I did could’ve made them stay?” Renjun whispers, so softly that Jeno almost doesn’t hear. “Anything?”

“I don’t think so. Not in the long run.”

Wind whistles in the ensuing quiet.

“How did you let her go so easily?”

A half smile of sadness spreads across Jeno’s lips. “Someone once told me that part of loving someone is knowing when to let them go.”

Renjun nods. They stare at the winking stars.

So far as Jeno knows, no one controls the stars. Not God, not Lucifer. No, the stars are controlled by a force far older, far more powerful than any Jeno has ever known.

For in the night sky, there are no angels, there are no demons. There are only stars, beings who have been rewarded for their faithful service, no matter their side. For who knows which side is good or bad? What controls each side are beliefs, and only the universe will ever know which belief is right. No one else will.

They say that in the sky, the stars twinkle side by side in peace, with no divisions to split them. An angel’s star may be next to a demon’s, yet they coexist in tranquility, lighting the shadows of night no matter what.

Jeno smiles a little sadly, staring up at the dark sky studded with lights.

Maybe one day he will have a star, a star that will glow bright in a constellation with his friends. Maybe in the night sky they will smile and laugh the way they did so long ago when they had not a care in the world, when they were on the same side. Maybe your star will be there too – Jeno has no doubt that you will be rewarded for your service.

The constellations wink at him, as though promising that his wish will come true. And why not? He already has one friend by his side. As if to affirm this, Renjun squeezes his hand softly.

Jeno’s smile grows a little wider. Maybe one day he will have a star.

And maybe his star will be next to yours.

[razorblade180]

Sienna Frost headcanon

Her hearing is extra sensitive. She’s learned to cope with it and adjust accordingly.

Whenever she’s near Jael, she is constantly listening to her heartbeat to make sure everything is okay. Sienna even used to warn her when it was getting too erratic.

She only calls Adam “dad” when she’s emotional or not thinking about it. Usually she calls him by name.

It makes her happy when Adam calls her his daughter.

There’s a special spot in menagerie’s dense jungle that grows a tiger lilies. An unmarked sign post rests in the middle set up by her.

Sienna roughly sleeps 28 hours a week (that’s 4 hours a day) sleeping peacefully is extremely difficult for her.

Sun used to babysit her when she was little. It was like taking care of a Tasmanian devil.

Jacquelyn locked the fridge once to stop her from devouring all the food. Sienna still got in and Jacquelyn immediately gave up.

She sleeps soundly when comforted or held.

Rubbing her head makes her purr and she hates it.

She cannot stand bracelets or necklaces.

Multiple times she’s accidentally hurt someone that was trying to wake her up from a nightmare.

Ilia is essentially her work big sister.

Neo is work aunt and a damn good one.

It took years for her to master Sienna Khan’s weapon. She kept wrapping herself up or knicking herself by accident.

Being alone stresses her out, but so does crowds. Decent size groups are preferred.

One time she passed out from training a full day at boot camp. Fortunately the other cadets helped her out. Even the rude ones.

Jael makes Sienna soft no matter what. Even in the worst mood, Jael makes her happy.

Sienna admires Yang’s strength and feats around Remnant. She gets a little star struck.

Killing people isn’t completely easy for her but she doesn’t flinch during the job or when it matters.

Espionage and undercover missions are her favorite. They take a meticulous amount of time and it is a good distraction.

Sienna star gazes and taught the constellation to Jael.

[pulaasul]

Lazarus Sacrifice - 1

"Joey this is what you came for." Jael pointed at the blue crystal on the Carnival Master's chest. "That has the power to bring your friends back." She added. ------ Joey, Nikita and Matpat discovered a way to bring everyone back, naturally they took the opportunity.

AO3

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

The resurrected champions of the Society Against Evil has just killed the Carnival Master. They beckoned for the three survivors to perform the ritual necessary to leave the town of Everlock.

Just as dawn was breaking, suddenly a nearby small chest popped open.

“Jesus Christ!” Matpat exclaimed in surprise. “I thought everything was over!”

Joey approached the newly opened chest and found a coin and a note. He picked up the note and read its contents.

To return what once was lost

And retrieve the past

Form a triangle

Using the life crystal

The three life stones

The Lazarus Harp

And three Lazarus Coins

At the center of the church

Three of you must stand at the center

Inside the triangle

And strum the harp three times together.

To return what you have lost

And correct your failings

”Did anyone bring the other two Lazarus coins?” Nikita questioned. “This note had one with it.” She pointed out as she picked up the coin and inspected it.

“No.” Matpat shook his head. “We were just following Jael and Ryu’s lead.” He admitted. “No worries, I’ll retrieve it.” He volunteered himself.

Matpat gave Nikita the Life Stone he was holding and walked out of the church and hurried towards the divine lounge.

------

Frankly Matpat was surprised at how empty the town looked, it was like a post-apocalyptic ghost town, as no one was really around. He took a quick detour towards one of the tents and retrieved both Blanche and Blueberry the plush toys he and Rosanna got early in the evening.

He took a quick stroll and just noticed that the corpses of the people he was with weren’t in the places they died.

Sure his own body would’ve disappeared considering how he was resurrected, but the others though? Roi, JC, Manny, Safiya? Their bodies should’ve been left in the places they died in.

They certainly didn’t have time to deposit their bodies somewhere sanitary, especially Safiya’s

Matpat opted to ignore all the lingering questions that he had and went straight to the arcade and made a beeline towards the lounge where he found both Jael and Ryu standing near the Lazarus Harp.

“Apart from returning him back to life.” Ryu began without prompting. “We also promised Joey that he can resurrect his friends from the previous nights he attended.” He continued as he gave Matpat the Lazarus Harp.

“Unlike this time, he wasn’t a member of the Society and was unfortunate enough to get caught in the middle of the crossfire between our faction and the cursed god’s.” Jael supplied as she gave the Detective the two Lazarus coins.

“However there is one catch.” Ryu came clean. “There needs to be a sacrifice.”

“I’m sorry.” Matpat interrupted abruptly. “Did I hear you right, there needs to be a sacrifice?”

“Yes.” Jael bluntly answered. “One we members of the Society are willing to pay.” She supplied. “Both Ryu and I were already dead.” She continued. “We can also make use of Calliope’s death as the other sacrifice.” She finished.

“Isn’t the mental strain on all of us, more so for Joey, enough as a sacrifice?” Matpat questioned. “We know we’re going to be experiencing some form of PTSD after this.” He exclaimed. “I know I flinch whenever I see a clenched fist.” He growled.

“Lives in exchange for lives.” Ryu and Jael responded in unison.

“That makes three.” Matpat counted. “What about our other friends?” He continued to question. “I know I want to get both Safiya and Rosanna, and Nikita wants Manny back.” He explained. “What about Teala, JC, Roi and all the other people killed in the previous nights Joey’s been in?”

“You can still resurrect them.” Jael assured the Detective. “The casualties that the Society has incurred can also be used as part of the sacrifice for your ritual.” She explained. “With the exception of the members who died on their first mission in the field, such was the case for one Shane Dawson.”

“Rest assured, you would only be killing the two us for the sacrifice.” Ryu reassured the Detective

Ryu opened his barely concealing clothing and sliced his chest open.

“O-Oh my god!” Matpat exclaimed. “Jesus Christ!” He yelled. “You did not need to do that!”

Jael ignored the Detective’s exasperated yell and retrieved the knife Ryu used and slashed her own throat with it.

“Freaking hell!” Matpat swore.

As Ryu and Jael lied on the ground lifeless with their mouths open,  a beam of orange suddenly light sprouted from both of their mouths and went straight to the knife the two members of the Society Against Evil used to commit suicide.

The knife glowed in a Red Orange hue before it faded.

Shakily, Matpat picked up the knife from Jael’s bloodied hands and held unto it with his hand as his other hand held unto the harp and plush toys.

------

“Oh my gosh!” Joey and Nikita gasped.

“Bitch! What happened?!” Nikita immediately questioned. “I thought everything’s over!” She exclaimed. “Jael and Ryu killed the Carnival Master!” She pointed at the villain’s unmoving form.

Matpat returned to the church wearing bloodied clothes carrying the bloodied knife, harp and plush toys.

“To resurrect the others, sacrifices must be made.” Matpat panted. “They dumped all kinds of information on me.” He informed. “Basically the three of us don’t need to sacrifice our lives, the Society has us covered.” He summarized. “I will tell you the full details later.”

Matpat gave both Joey Nikita the harp and the two coins as he placed both Blanche and Blueberry on the ground. When he noticed a note on Blueberry’s underside.

Once the harp has been strummed thrice,

By the three in the triangle.

A sacrifice must be made,

Life for life,

Blood for blood.

Place the weapon used to kill the most of the sacrifices at the center

Then think of the fallen

Wish for them to return

To know if the ritual is successful

And you managed to resurrect your fallen friends

The life crystal and everything connected will turn red

While the carnival master’s artifacts are destroyed

One by one.

“Oh my god!” Joey gasped. “You weren’t kidding of the sacrifice bit.”

“Would I joke about that?” Matpat exclaimed. “Jael and Ryu killed themselves in front of me!” He yelled.

“Let’s perform the ritual already.” Nikita urged her companions. “There’s no point in crying over spilt milk.” She dragged both Joey and Matpat towards the center of the triangle.

Matpat glared angrily at Nikita, her tendency to dismiss the deaths of everyone around her was appalling. He understood where she was coming from, but the outright dismissal of the deaths around her was still pretty hard to stomach.

“Fine.” Matpat growled.

“Get the knife ready.” Joey instructed.

The three survivors of the night in Everlock followed the instructions from both notes to a T. They stood at the center of the triangle they made as they strummed the harp thrice. Matpat stabbed the knife on the ground.

All of a sudden, everything around them glowed: the Carnival Master’s artifacts, the amber that imprisoned the Carnival Master, even the walls of the church, glowed in a red hue.

Smoke surrounded the three guests out of the blue as all of the Carnival Master’s artifacts were destroyed one by one.

Something unseen forced the three out of the triangle and blew them towards the church’s walls.

“Whoa.” A new voice commented as he caught Matpat from slamming to the wall. “Try to be more careful Matt.” The voice stated as a pair of hands helped the Detective on his feet.

“Girl, I leave you for a few moments and you’re here slamming yourself unto walls.” A very familiar voice stated as a pair of hands caught Nikita from getting slammed to the wall.

“Joey, I know you wanted to save the town.” A pair of hands caught Joey from getting slammed to the wall. “I didn’t think it’d warranted jumping unto walls.’ The new voice joked.

“Roi.” Matpat muttered as he looked at his savior.

“Manny.” Nikita gasped. “I’m so sorry Manny, I’m so sorry.”

“JC.” Joey identified his savior. “It worked he commented. “Guys it worked!”

“It worked!” Matpat nodded. “It really worked!” He exclaimed in delight.

The people who joined together to save the town of Everlock locked themselves in a group hug in both relief and joy for the ritual that worked.

“Wait Matt, didn’t you die?” Colleen questioned as the group untangled themselves from the impromptu hug.

“I was the first one to be resurrected after Joey.” Matpat admitted. “Using the Lazarus coins and the Lazarus Harp.” He explained as he pointed at the objects in question.

------

Colleen nodded in response to Matpat’s answer before glaring at most of everyone in the room. She remembered how she died. The way everyone betrayed her hurt her. She’s happy everyone’s back, alive, but the betrayal hit her like the spikes that stabbed her in the maiden of madness.

“What’s with the glare girl?” Teala walked up behind Colleen. “You’ve been glaring daggers at everyone.” She observed.

“It’s a long story.” Colleen bitterly responded. “Basically most of everyone here betrayed me and shoved me inside an iron maiden.”

“Aren’t we all?” Teala shrugged. “I mean we are all supposed to be friends but we were voting to send someone to their deaths.” She continued. “She voted, I voted, you voted.” She listed off.

“That maybe so.” Colleen faced the Super Spy. “The fact that they were the ones to push me inside the iron maiden was…” The Disco Dancer trailed off. “It just hurts.” She gulped. “Like a lot.”

“Yes it hurts.” Teala nodded. “There’s no denying that.” She added.

Colleen bit her lips in order not to destroy the room’s mood and not lash out at Nikita or anyone else who died before her. She just couldn’t let go of what happened.

“My piece of advice Colleen is to forgive but don’t forget.” Teala offered as she hugged the Disco Dancer.

------

“Where the hell are we?!” A voice right outside the church yelled, garnering the attention of everyone in the room.

“If anyone of you try to bury me again! I will smack you with this shovel!” A woman raged.

“Y-you’re okay?”

“Everyone was revived!” Joey declared. “It worked!” He let out a happy sob. “It really worked!”

Joey immediately exited the church with glee that he practically skipped on the way to the door and made his way to the group of newcomers by the cemetery.

“Ro!” Matpat approached Rosanna and hugged her from behind. “Someone missed you.” He stated as he pointed at where Blueberry and Blanche were stashed.

“Blueberry!” Rosanna gleefully looked at her best friend with a grin. “Matt you’re the best!”

Rosanna retrieved both plush toys from their place and gave Blanche to its owner, the Detective.

Over the course of the trials and puzzle solving, Matthew ‘the Detective’ Patrick has resolved himself that he’d be dealing with a lot of PTSD on top of losing a lot of people in Everlock, his best friend included.

To know that they successfully resurrected everyone from their group was a huge load off of Matpat’s chest. From his failure to save JC in his first death challenge to having Rosanna back on his side. He was happy.

Matpat looked over to Nikita who continued to sob unto Manny’s chest for what she’s done. She’s finally let out all the emotions she bottled up since the slaughter party started. When he thought about things, her dismissing every death that’s happened was just her trying to be strong for the group.

“Girl, I understand.” Manny tried to assure his best friend. “I know we tell each other we would kill for one another, if push comes to shove I would probably have done the same thing you did.”

“That’s just it.” Nikita sobbed. “I wanted to save myself over saving you.”

“Girl that’s just instinct.” Manny assured. “Our survival instinct.

------

“Lay off of her.” Safiya stated as she approached Colleen, who was observing Nikita and Manny. “From what I gathered, she’s really remorseful for what she’s done.” She continued. “For everything that she’s done.”

“I will still have words with her.” Colleen huffed.

“You can.” Safiya nodded. “Just after she’s calmed down.”

“Oh I will.”

“For what it’s worth, I am very sorry for what happened.” Safiya apologized.

“Why did it have to be me?” Colleen glared at the Investigative Reporter.

“Because the Calliope drew your card.” Safiya answered. “Tell me Colleen, had it been my name that was drawn, would you have joined in and pushed me inside the Maiden of Madness?” She asked.

“I-“

Colleen haven’t thought of that possibility. She was too engrossed with the fact that almost everyone in the room had a hand in killing her that she hadn’t considered the possibility of the situation happening to someone else, or the it being reversed.

“I don’t know.” Colleen admitted.

“I personally think you would have.” Safiya shook her head. “It was the only way to move on and cleanse the artifact.” She explained.

That realization stunned the Disco Dancer. Colleen failed to consider that fact.

“It would be the same had it been Nikita’s name was drawn.” Safiya supplied.

“Y-you’re right.” Colleen stuttered. “I need to think this through.”

------

Matpat smiled as he continued to observe the different conversations that were happening inside the church when he noticed Roi go outside.

That was when he remembered that one of the missing – dead – Youtubers was Alex Wassabi, a good friend of Roi’s.

“How’d you find a way to bring back everyone?” Rosanna finally asked her best friend.

[deputysaint]

five times + meals

      @housesmadeofglass  //  the call   [ always accepting ]

   i.   the first time they see each other when all is said and done, he’s a broken man. there’s fear in his eyes and every hint of movement has him flinching. he is ashamed of himself, of his actions before, and though joseph has gifted him new life and mask to hide out from his shame, he leans against a broken table, maskless and watchful.   joseph is greeting his flock, both old and new, and hands out cans to every member, smiling as they bless him. and deacon, deacon keeps watch, eyes falling every time someone looks at him, but raising once they’ve moved on.   when she appears, looking worn but strong, there are three shadows at her side, and a group of jacob’s hunters at her back. joseph exclaims her name in a whisper, and for the first time in a long time, he witnesses the father’s hands shake.   rachel smiles at joseph, warily at first, then with kindness. minutes pass as they talk, and deacon is all too aware of the eyes of a child on him, then the eyes of them all.   she settles beside him, pulling open a can of fruit and handing it to her daughters. ( twins, deacon thinks in awe, twin girls. and dinah, dinah is so big. ) he hands her a second can, the can he’s been poking at the contents of for minutes now, and she smiles at him, warm and kind.   it’s not a meal, but it is.   it’s not a fresh start… but it is.

   ii.   rachel and her hunters do not agree with joseph and his new lifestyle. they argue with looks and words and more than once, he has to step aside and close his eyes, the father’s disappointment too strong in the air even if it’s not directed at him.    she moves away, takes her daughters and her hunters, and joesph is sad for a while, a sadness that not even the appearance of his lost son and lover can fix. ( lover, son. he thinks nothing of it at first, then too hard, but he is too weary to wear the title of wrath and envy. )    they visit, because they can’t not visit despite any differences rachel and joseph have about the new world, they are family. there are meals, shared resources from both encampments, and her hunters bring more than enough for all of new eden.   joseph sits at the head, his son sits next to him.   he sits between rachel and ethan.   they don’t talk, but they do.   they are family, but they are not.

   iii.   the father gives him freedom that he never had expected to have. he wanders what is left of hope county, watches his once-friends as they survive from a distance, wanders the roads he had known so well… looks at buildings full of memories of harshness that he had, at the time, thought to be the worst.    he knows now the innocence of his thinking, the foolishness of his mind.   always, he wanders to rachel’s encampment, walks maskless with her in the fields they set up farm in, assists in the corralling of wild animals they are trying to domesticate.    he joins them on late nights for dinner, joins her for late night coffee ( an indulgence he should not take, but does anyway. ).    always does he marvel at her strength.   he had been the strong one once, and she had been the weak.   or maybe he’d always been weak, and she had been strong.

   iv.   they gather together one the one year anniversary of new eden’s creation. there’s a speech by the father, it’s inspiring and there are tears. ( he doesn’t cry, but rachel doesn’t either. ) from his spot at his father’s side, ethan forces a smile on his face, sets his jaw even as anger flashes in his eyes.   ( dinah whispers ungrateful under her breath, and rachel elbows her roughly. )    the feast is not as it perhaps should, there’s just enough for everyone to eat, but it’s more than many have seen in a long time. rachel’s hunters are owed most of the credit, they are still strong, built strong by jacob’s training, and nothing gets in their way of the hunt.   as they eat, rachel shares a look with him. small, sad but happy.   he wonders if she sees the murderer of her husband when she sees him.   it’s all he can see in his reflection.

   v.   one week before the highwaymen come, he finds himself tucked between rachel’s twins at her table. they’re eating breakfast, a curious mixture of new fruit and meat that makes him long for things from before.    the twins tell him everything he has missed since his last visit. there are new pups from what remains of jacob’s strong wolves. jael and judith are already making plans for them should they survive their youth. hunting dogs not house pets, practical animals for this new harsh world they live in.   briefly, he thinks of jacob, of how his girls would have made him proud, of how rachel had succeeded every possible expectation he’d had of her. their girls resemble him, in looks, in personality, in practicality and…   deacon had killed him.   his jaw sets as he remembers the feeling of jacob’s blood under his hands -   jael calls him uncle d and he jerks free of that memory.   jacob is not alive, deacon had killed him.   and still, he is family.

[melodicwitchlight]

your presence ; lost on you ; brings light.

anne comes up behind him, during his phantom aching -- tired from his battle last night -- 

he flinches a little at the sudden movement -- yet not as shaking, trembling barked anger -- challenging all who contrived to rip him apart -- as once upon a time. and turns corner of his ice blue eyes to see the acquainted presence he met at dance of the far isles ; a girl of magical presence. an ENEMY, he thought of past soldier ghosting thought...

had found kindness with the night before ; in the night we met -- of falling in love with the night of nineteen sixty four.

his tiredness enacting him to funnel backwards into dark reminiscence. and not knowing if he should speak to her in this moment ; give her his undivided attention ; he found that difficult still despite the miracle out of nowhere of last night -- a miracle is not an one-off thing in life. rather conflicted at his epiphany.

was anne one he could truly trust, or perhaps she could be like ... eidolen of the dancing eyes? there was more to anne .. far more to her than beauty. like eidolen had been... 

but yet! was that a good or bad thing for him?

searching, searching for salvation ; where am i? he wonders, eyes lowering in rare instance of vulnerability ; yet eyes turning away from anne.

soldier or stormhunter?

https://vimeo.com/75445335

he hears her say, ‘desires make one lose their mind.’ 

he recalls commander jael giving castle and keeps to the dominion, to ensure their loyalty. another memory briefly flits in his mind ; of bloodshed of kill or defence. his fear -- especially during his more heightened war with himself -- an seraph or chimaera ....

‘you are not alone, malachi. i am with you as well, dearest.’

he hears her say,

and his trailed off thought picks up .. 

... after the darkness of night -- in the morning light after, he had studied his worn chapped light pink hands, to ensure there was no true blood smeared or dripping on there -- 

so hard to forget it in the morning

similarly brought to life like his crow ragnar : dreamt accidentally to life. 

it was a vicious crow ; black and white ... 

one day, i’ll be good

‘do... you really love me, anne?’

he thinks. or does he say it?

yet beautiful.

and colours change in unison with black and white in ...

save myself

she blows out the candle burning in its holder ; indicating him to come to bed...

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: Captain Cold & Me (chapter 5 of 7)

Sara Lance, unbeknownst to her high school classmates, has connections to some of Star City's most popular super-powered heroes--but no powers of her own. Then the mysterious Captain Cold saves her from an attack…and does his best to convince her that he’s not the bad guy everyone seems to think he is. And maybe not all of the "good guys" should be trusted...

Yeah, it's going to be seven chapters now. Bad Jael. ;) The last one was just going to be really long, but I hit a good point to stop and it just felt right. Ch. 6 tomorrow and, I hope, Ch. 7 on Friday. Many thanks to LarielRomeniel for the betas!

Can also be read here at AO3 and here at FF.net.

Cold went back out the window, but Sara rolled her eyes, closed the window behind him and headed down to the front door, which she also locked behind her. He was waiting around behind the house, under the tree he kept climbing to get to her, and looked unbelievably relieved when she came into view.

“Um. Here.” He held out something that shone white in the moonlight, and Sara, curious, reached out to take it, turning it over in her hands. It was a white domino mask, not so unlike Laurel’s black one, made of supple leather that was soft beneath her fingertips. She looked up at him, seeing the oddly wistful look on his face again, then nodded, slipping it on and adjusting the elastic that secured it to her head and then pulling her hood up to cover that and her hair.

Cold hesitated in the process of pulling his goggles back down over his eyes and took a step closer, watching her.

“I wish…” he started, then shook his head, turning away and tugging the eyewear down roughly. Sara regarded him thoughtfully, then followed as he started walking into the woods behind the house.

“Might help if you told me where we’re going,” she said after a moment.

“The docks,” he told her. “But first…” He motioned to the side, turning in that direction. “I parked out here so it wouldn’t be visible from the house. Just in case.”

“Parked? What, you have a Coldmobile or something?” Then they moved around a tree, and Sara saw the fence that marked the property line--and, just beyond it, a motorcycle.

Cold clambered over the fence, turning to extend a hand, but Sara just put a hand on a post and vaulted it herself, noting his quick smile. She studied the bike, which looked well-worn but also well-cared-for, and took note of the two helmets hanging from the side with a sort of saddlebag.

“Aw,” she said, picking one up, “you brought me a helmet?”

Cold cleared his throat. “Well. Safety first.” He smirked as she eyed him. “You OK riding pillion?”

“Sure.” Sara put the helmet on, noting that it seemed new, but fit perfectly. Hm. “You really do have a license for this thing?”

Belatedly, she thought that it was probably kind of silly to be OK with running into the night with the so-called supervillain but question whether he had a motorcycle license. But Cold chuckled as he took off his parka and stuffed it in the bag, then put his own helmet on, buckling it before swinging his leg over the bike.

“I do,” he said, fussing with something near the handlebars. “And it’s even clean and up to date.” He started the bike, which purred quietly to life. “But it’s not like I really want to produce my license and registration if pulled over--so we’ll just have to drive safe.”

Sara couldn’t argue with that. She perched behind him, paused, then settled her hands on his waist and tucked her chin against his shoulder. Cold turned his head just a little, the dark stubble on his jaw brushing her cheek, and she heard him sigh, smelled the mint on his breath…

And then they were off, roaring into the evening.

“The docks” could mean any of a few places, all on the Starling River, ranging from the yacht playgrounds of the upper crust to the dramatic opposite: rundown remnants of the time the river had been used for more transportation of goods to and through the city, before the days of airplanes and semis.

Sara knew the city well enough to guess fairly quickly that they were headed for a site somewhat in the middle of the two extremes, the so-called Adams docks at the base of the street of the same name. Thanks to a nearby open-air market, these docks were somewhat still used for legitimate business purposes, bringing goods into the city for sale and further transport. But not this time of night, and not, generally, with any such degree of cloak-and-dagger secrecy.

Her guess was correct, and Cold turned off the bike’s lights a few short blocks away, pulling over into an alleyway between two storefronts, both closed for the night. As he climbed off the motorcycle, Sara followed suit, removing her helmet when he did and watching him thoughtfully.

He gave her the shadow of a smile and another sigh, taking both helmets and stowing them before pulling out his parka and shrugging it back on, zipping it up before moving closer.

“I’d learned there was something to be brought into the city on the river some night this month,” he said quietly. “And wouldn’t you know, when I made the rounds earlier tonight, there was a boat running dark, headed this way.”

“The Adams docks?” Sara made a thoughtful noise as he nodded. For all his icy powers and his name, he was awfully warm, in a good way, while standing so close to her. “What is it? This thing?”

“Not positive.” Cold took a deep breath and let it out. “A weapon, at a very educated guess. Or more than one.” Sara digested that while he glanced out the mouth of the alley and then beckoned her to follow, walking quickly across the street and into another alley there. He started up a ladder at the back of it without even checking to see if she was OK, which had the perverse effect of making Sara smile as she followed. He trusted that she could do this.

And he trusted her to have his back.

Once on top of the building there, Cold moved toward the front, which overlooked the cross street and then the docks themselves. There was enough of a rim that they could kneel behind it and observe without being seen, and they did just that, peering out at the dark street and the darker water beyond.

Just as he’d said, there was a boat coming in dark—and just as he’d said, he hadn’t had much time to spare. Even as Sara watched, shapes moved about in the small receiving building off the dock, coming out and throwing ropes toward the craft, ropes that were caught by a figure onboard.

She glanced toward Cold, who was watching intently.

“I can distract them. I’m around a lot of water here, and ice is sort of my thing,” he told her, a hint of humor in his tone. “As you know. And...well, my powers are actually a good bit stronger than I’ve shown before around you.”

He motioned to the building while she considered that. “You see if you can get a good look at what's in those boxes...or maybe even make off with it.”

As soon as the boat was tied up, figures had boarded, pausing and milling about a moment before picking up boxes that had been stacked on board and starting to carry them off, into the building, before emerging to get more.

“You’d trust me to do that?” Her father...or even Laurel and Oliver...wouldn’t trust her to so much as play dispatcher. Or, she thought, to be fair, perhaps it was less trust and more that they felt the need to try to protect her.

“Yep. And if you can yell if you see something—or someone—coming that I don’t.” He turned toward her and smirked, light from the sole streetlamp reflecting off too-blue eyes, then rose and hurried toward the side of the building. Sara shook her head, then followed.

They moved quietly down the ladder there, pausing a moment behind the dumpster in yet another alley, then Cold took a deep breath, nodded to her, and darted across the street, ducking into the shadows. Sara frowned, tracking him. He should have taken off that blue parka, she thought. While it was a darker blue, the pale ruff stood out, and the rather questionable style choice, even for a super, made it completely clear who it was even before he used his powers.

But as he stood up out on the dock and lifted a hand to point it at the boat and the workers, she understood why. He wanted them to know him for who, and what, he was. Silly fashion choices and all.

Captain Cold.

Sara skidded into place outside the door just in time for a decent view. As Cold pointed, then made a fist and lifted it in the air, the water around the boat followed his gesture. Except that it wasn’t water anymore, or not liquid water anyway. Jagged spikes of ice crashed up around the craft, rocking it to the side, and the men on board shouted and hung on.

Sara could feel the chill rolling through the air, raising goosebumps on her arms even through her sleeves. The people working in the building, realizing that something was going on, went running out toward the dock, and Sara took a deep breath. Time to move.

She slipped in the front door, drawing one of her knives and kneeling next to one of the bigger boxes. The dratted thing was sealed tight, and Sara bit her lip as she sawed at it, flinching as she heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot outside. But the shouts and the sounds of crashing ice and moving water didn’t even pause, so she had to believe Cold was managing OK.

The seals on the box gave way, and Sara hurriedly peeled it open, parting the container to get a good look at the contents.

And then she gasped.

“It can’t...” she whispered, staring. “How?”

Fortunately (or unfortunately, she wasn’t sure) a few more gunshots from outside jolted her from her shock. Sara quickly opened a few more boxes, checking their contents, pulling out her phone to snap a few pictures. The bigger boxes all contained the same thing, while the smaller ones held small silver wristbands, packed dozens to a box. Sara turned one over in her hands, then tucked a few away in her pockets before taking a look at the room as a whole.

She had to destroy these, at least the bigger boxes. There was no good purpose for their contents, none at all. She knew that as well as anyone. But how...

Sara took a deep breath, then picked one of the boxes up. It was heavy, but she was stronger than she looked after years of martial art training, and she was pretty motivated. Then she kicked open the door to the docks and moved outside.

Just in time to hear the approaching whirrrr of a helicopter.

Cold was still keeping the workers busy, the boat locked in ice and a frozen shield protecting him from gunfire. Sara moved toward him, making sure he saw her, then tilted the box just once so that he could see what was inside, jerking her head back toward the building to indicate there were more.

He froze.

At another time, it might have been funny, the start of a bad pun, but Sara had rarely felt less humorous in her life. She saw Cold register what she held, saw him recognize it, saw his mouth form a thin, determined line. And then everything happened at once.

A spotlight from the helicopter hit them and a voice magnified by a bullhorn called out “Captain Cold! You are under...”

Cold jerked his head at Sara, who took another deep breath and pelted toward him despite her armload, sliding on the ice on the pavement to behind him, ducking her head instinctively.

He bought up his hands, which had been stretched out before him, and the ice surrounding the boat contracted, holding it in a frozen grip. People tumbled everywhere, onto the sheets of ice that now coated the river and back from where those ice spires rose.

And then he “threw” the boat at the building.

The voice from the helicopter rose, but Cold had already dove for Sara, bringing his arm up with another wave of ice to shield them as shrapnel flew everywhere. Then they were running again, back the way they’d originally come, counting on the chaos to cover them.

Cold took the box from Sara as they rounded the corner, headed for the alley where he’d left his bike. She spared a moment to wish she’d just tossed the damned thing in the water—it weighed too much to take with them, it would just slow them down—but he moved over to a dumpster next to the closed Chinese restaurant across the street and pitched the box in with a grunt, then rejoined her on the headlong flight.

Sara jumped onto the bike, perching her helmet back on her head even as Cold stuffed his goggles and parka into the bag again and vaulted into place in front of her, starting the machine and peeling out of the alley with a squeal of tires. Sara dared a glance behind them, but saw no pursuit from the scene of chaos at the dock—and, oddly or not, no lit-up police or emergency vehicles. She frowned, but turned to face forward, tucking her chin against Cold’s shoulder and wrapping her arms around him a little more securely, enjoying both the hint of chill that still hung over him and the solid warmth underneath.

They tore on through the night, taking twists and turns Sara was pretty sure were meant to throw off any pursuit, just in case. But none came, and she actually found herself laughing out loud, realizing that they’d actually gotten away with that mad bit of rampant destruction. The connotations of what she’d found in that dockside building were disturbing as hell, but...

But the adrenaline was pulsing through her veins, and her supervillain was laughing, too, his shoulders shaking under her hands, and the night was clear and beautiful.

She wondered where they were going. But she’d thrown her lot in now, and she was at peace with that, for better or for worse.

Eventually, Cold pulled the bike into yet another alley, concealing it behind a stack of boxes, then gave her an inquiring look as he reached up to pull down the metal skeleton of a fire escape ladder. Sara grinned at him, and he smirked back, and then they set off for the heights again, clambering up the side of a city brownstone in the way of squirrels or superheroes.

She realized why he’d picked this one as soon as she stepped out onto the roof. It had a view of the river, from far enough away that they weren’t likely to be spotted but close enough to see a little of what was going on. Which was...not so much, really.  The helicopter was gone, and there were no flashing lights, just—she peered toward the scene as Cold murmured something to himself—more dark shapes, apparently picking up the very small pieces.

That somewhat confirmed Sara’s supposition that someone high up in the city wanted this kept quiet. Which was an uncomfortable thought, and she didn’t want to inspect it right now, didn’t want to spoil the way she was feeling. So instead, she glanced at the figure next to her, the super who’d held the very substance of the Starling River in his hands and turned it into a weapon and a shield, the boy who’d trusted her to watch his back and help him figure out and deal with such a huge and potentially terrifying conspiracy, despite her lack of powers and everything else.

“We did it,” he breathed. “I mean...for now. We did it.”

Cold didn’t let out a whoop of victory or anything nearly so effusive. But he did turn to her, the first real grin she’d ever seen on his face lighting his eyes, which sparkled with triumph and mischief. Sara laughed, moving closer to him as he reached out an arm and looped it around her waist again, pulling her close as she reached up and put her hands on his shoulders.

And then they were kissing, there on that rooftop in Star City, under the stars and the full moon and the wind rustling the errant leaves around them.

Sara had kissed, and been kissed, before. But not like this.

Not with the adrenaline still making her dizzy, the strong arms around her both gentle and assured, the biting breath of cold still on his lips. Warmth blossomed within her, and she curled her hands around his neck, pulling him closer too, as close as humanly possible.

When they finally parted, slowly and reluctantly, Sara felt like it’d been seconds and it’d been hours, all at once. She took a steadying breath and licked her lips, then looked back up into those blue, blue eyes, eyes that were…conflicted, which was not really the expression she’d hoped to see in them right then.

Cold took a deep breath too, then closed his eyes. Sara studied his face, noting the premature lines in it, a few faded scars, too many for someone so young, and waited.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, then. “Sara. I...have to confess something…”

But Sara decided then that she couldn’t let him go on with anything that was causing that degree of pain in his voice. Not when she could stop it. She tightened her hands on his shoulders and gave him a little shake, startling him out of the confession, eyes focusing on hers again.

“It’s OK, Len,” she whispered, hearing his intake of breath as he registered her words. “I know it’s you.”

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then Captain Cold...Leonard Snart...shook his head roughly. He pulled back a moment and stared at her, but Sara kept grinning at him, sure in her statement even as she let him go.

Then he sighed, and reached up and pulled back his hood/mask. Dark, short hair with the spark of silver in it, those damned cheekbones and eyelashes, and those ridiculous blue eyes. Sara’s grin grew.

Leonard noticed the direction of her gaze, then tapped a finger against the bridge of his nose, between his eyes.

“You were right,” he told her with another sigh, reaching out to take her hand carefully. “They’re contacts.” He shook his head. “When did you figure it out?”

Sara considered it, tightening her grip on his fingers to try to show him that she was OK with this.

“I was pretty sure already,” she told him after a moment. “At first, when you showed up at the window tonight, I thought maybe you were testing me, seeing if I’d blow off the date with…well, you…to go run with Captain Cold.” She held up her other hand as he started to speak. “But you wouldn’t do that. I get it. You were telling the truth: you had to move fast, and you didn’t have time to spill your secrets and make sure we could get past them.”

Leonard actually chuckled at that.

“I had good intentions, you know,” he said quietly, looking down at her hand. “I thought I’d pick you up like a so-called normal person, take you for a bite to eat--then spill the secret and see if you wanted to…to go fight crime together.” His lips quirked a little more as Sara laughed. “Well, it seemed like the sort of thing you’d like to do.”

“You have no idea,” Sara told him fervently, thinking of Laurel and Oliver and all the times she’d tried to step more into their world. And passionately thankful neither of them had showed up at the docks.

“Well, I got that right, at least.” He gave her an almost shy glance. “How did you know?”

“Well. You smell—and taste--like mint. A certain kind of mint gum, to be exact.” She laughed as he sighed, spreading his hands in a “what can you do?” gesture. “But more seriously... probably the biggest was Malcolm Merlyn.”

Leonard’s face darkened, but Sara knew it wasn’t aimed at her. She reclaimed his hand, squeezing gently, before she started to speak again.

“You—Captain Cold-You—were investigating Merlyn, and told me that you'd had run-ins with him before,” she said, thinking back over the pattern she couldn’t help but notice, “and then my dad said something about allegations, about something you—Leonard Snart-You--said two years ago, connected with Merlyn. Who was apparently concerned enough about it to get you moved to Central City.”

Leonard looked down at their hands, then heaved a huge sigh, conflict and pain drifting over his features. Sara let him think a moment, trying to convey support and a lack of judgment.

“I told them, back then,” he said quietly. “Mayor Queen, and the commiss...your dad. I told them that Merlyn was in on it with my da….with Lewis. No one believed me.”

Sara sucked in a breath. “In on it,” she whispered. “You mean the City Hall quake.”

“Yeah. I saw him meet with Lewis a few times. Merlyn...he’d pay for dirty work.” A darker shadow passed his eyes. “And my dad was all for that. I was watching, because I never trusted him.” A humorless laugh. “My dad or Merlyn.”

Len glanced away, guilt etched across his features. “I saw...I saw him give Lewis the device, the Markov device. Two days before the quake. But I didn’t know what it was, then.”

Sara closed her eyes. She’d never liked Merlyn, but this... “His own son died, at City Hall,” she breathed. “How could he?”

Leonard shrugged, but they both moved closer, a little, sharing support in the face of nearly unimaginable evil.

“Pretty sure his own kid wasn’t supposed to be there,” he said bitterly. “I think it was supposed to take out Mayor Queen. And probably other city higher-ups. You know, to kind of rally the city together around the new mayor, so he could pretty do whatever he wanted, especially in the name of law and order.”

Sara thought about what she knew of Merlyn. God help her, she could see it. “Tempest,” she said. “The name of his plan?”

“I think so. He’s got other people supporting him, too, although I don’t know who all of them are.” Len shook his head. “At least maybe my speaking up, two years back, delayed it a little, made it so he had to keep his nose clean for a bit. But I think he’s nearly there now. He’s going to do something.”

Sara bit her lip. “And there were Markov devices in those boxes, at the docks,” she added slowly. “Smaller ones than that one two years ago—I read all the articles, I saw the diagrams--but enough to cause a lot of damage...”

“Yeah. I didn’t know that’s what they were, but I knew he was expecting something.”

Sara looked up at the moon, thinking. The adrenaline of the mission and then the kiss was fading—although she definitely wanted to try the latter again—and Leonard’s revelation made the autumn breeze feel chillier than it probably really was. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, unable to tear her mind away from a horrible thought.

“My dad couldn’t be part of it,” she whispered. “Right? That quake...it killed my mom.”

She wanted Leonard to immediately deny her dad’s involvement, to say that there was no way, that Commissioner Quentin Lance was clean, just with some rather...misplaced...loyalties. He didn’t. He wouldn’t, she knew, unless he was sure. He respected her too much for that.

“Was he expecting her that day?” Leonard asked quietly. “At City Hall?”

“No. She’d been planning to surprise him.” Sara closed her eyes, feeling tears leaking out. “No...”

She felt the air shift around her, and then Leonard had taken her shoulders in his hands, holding her securely and comforting her in the only way he really could.

“Sara, I think he’s a super of some sort,” he said intently. “Merlyn. He’s got some sort of…whammy. Everything I said was true, back then, but no one believed me. They didn’t even really look into it.” He nodded as she looked up at him. “And Lewis—when he was arrested and Merlyn didn’t get him freed, there’s no way he would have stayed silent and headed off to death row like that. Maybe...maybe he’s used it on your dad.”

It was a small hope, but Sara would take it. She nodded, then wiped away the tears with irritation, pulling back to reach into her pocket.

“There were these, too. At the docks,” she told Leonard, holding one of the silver wristlets out to him. “We need to find out what they are.”

Leonard took it and turned it over in his hands, but to Sara’s slight disappointment, he didn’t seem to have any idea what it was. “And I’ll go back near the dock and get that device tomorrow,” he mused. “The one I threw in the dumpster. Pretty sure that no one really saw that we got one away, given all the chaos. Maybe...I don’t know.”

He sighed then, giving her a rueful look. “I’m not a scientist,” he said, looking down. “I have some basic know-how, but I don’t know what we can figure out more about these, or how to stop whatever Merlyn’s planning to do with them. That shipment is gone, but there will be more. He’s got all the money he wants to buy them.”

Sara hummed thoughtfully, looking at the wristband. They needed a tech expert, she thought. An engineer. Maybe a hacker. Someone good at digging things up...

Then she smiled.

“You might be surprised,” she said lightly, suddenly a bit more optimistic. “We have people with all sorts of odd skills.”

Leonard lifted his head to gaze at her, hope and skepticism warring in his eyes. “We?” he asked doubtfully.

Sara grinned at him. “Yes,” she said, reaching out to take his hand and feeling hope stirring within her again. “We.”

[siderealxmelody]

Overhaul

@silentwcrds

Amitiel was wheeled into the med bay as Heylel collapsed against the wall.

The Buak, a brutish people launched themselves on the ship trying to get to Heylel and Amitiel.

Heylel looked at Michael and swallowed her panting, and tried to steady her breathing.

"Thanks for coming."

Michael looked up from the flight plans, he gave a curt nod and frowned.

"I came for my sister, whatever you did - Tabbris was down screaming, I honed on her by using him. Which I guess was the point right?"

She nodded straightening fully and moving toward Michael, only for swords to be pointed at her throat.

Galaerii had moved to intercept her. She scoffed at them.

"Why stay loyal to someone like him? Someone who only wants to enslave us and -"

One of the soldiers, Ansiel snarled at her.

"He is chosen! He is good! All you did was make it harder for us to be trusted and get better jobs! You are the bane of all our-"

"Father never said their needed to be tyrants -"

"Don't you dare speak of Father! You Heathen! Do you pray? Do you know anything of the gospels and written word? You are -"

The window behind them shattered behind them and they all hit the ground.

Cassiel hit the floor, grabbing for his blade as the Buak trampled in.

Angels guarding Amitiel's medbay rushed in to help the gaurds.

Heylel had frozen as she looked at one of them, so much so that she didn't see the Buak aiming his sword at her. She screamed as it sliced her arm.

She rolled out the way and for a weapon. But one of the soldiers, Janax jumped into the fray. Michael held the ship in gear and steered it.

He screwered a few Buak and then slammed his hand down on the ground throwing the remaining Buak out of the ship.

The Galaerii stared in shock, the one from earlier Ansiel inched closer.

"The fuck Janax? When were you going to tell us you were blessed?"

Janax stood and brushed the glass from him. He tries to get out of the circle forming around him. Heylel hangs back, Cassiel tries to stand without drawing any attention to himself.

"I don't want to talk about it Ansiel, let's just-"

He pauses as Ansiel grabs his elbow.

"Hey? Don't you trust Michael? Tell us, this is a good thing, this could help -"

Michael is pointedly not looking in their direction. He is gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Janax sighed and gives the Galaerii a pointed look.

"Can I trust you?"

"Jan? Come on! We trained together, we -"

"Can I trust you all? Excluding the archs and the harlot."

Cassiel notices that Heylel flinched and her hands ball up into fists at her side.

The Galaerii murmur a yes.

Janax sighed heavily and rolled his shoulders backwards.

"Aniyel, my name is Aniyel. I - I - I needed to forge my own path and I-"

"Is that why you didn't reach out to me? Is that why you let me believe you died? That I never resurrected you?"

Ansiel stilled in shock and Aniyel looks at Heylel and scowled.

"You, you have the gall to ask me that after what you did to Jael? He was a child Heylel! A child that you scentenced to slavery!"

"He let our daughter die! He should be punished for what he did!"

"I was like him once! I would have done anything for you! Would you have had me scentenced if I didn't meet your standards? If I got Amitiel to be hurt or didn't see her betraying you?"

Heylel scoffed and shook her head.

"It's not the same thing! You are smarter than Jael, besides he wasn't good enough for -"

Aniyel moves, wrenching his arm from Ansiel and throwing Heylel against a wall.

Michael finally looks up as Heylel yells. Aniyel has her in a chokehold.

He presses a dagger against her throat.

"If you ever try do that again I will kill you myself. You are the reason our children live the life they do. Zarall needn't of died, and Bernael -"

His voice breaks and Michael moves slowly toward them.

"Aniyel put her -"

Aniyel whips around and presses the dagger against Michael's throat.

"With the speed were going we should be docked in an two hours yes? I want Jael pardoned, he has more than served his time. I want to see my son Michael. Tell whoever you need to to make that happen is that clear?"

Michael's mouth twitches and he looks like he wants to protest but just nods. Aniyel steps away from Michael and Heylel. She falls to the ground gasping for air and rubbing at her neck.

Aniyel glares down at her.

"I wash my hand of you Heyel. You aren't the same angel I mated with. I'm done with you."

She snickers and looks at Ansiel who still hasn't moved.

"That's fine, I'm sure you didn't sleep in a cold bed."

Aniyel snickers.

"No, but then again neither did you yes?"

He grabs the claimant he had hidden from everyone and burns it. He relishes as Heylel screams and claws at her neck.

He drops the half burned necklace on the ground and walks back toward Amitiel's room.

He turns back to Michael.

"Jael and Bernael. Remeber."

He turns and goes inside.

[razorblade180]

OC test: Halloween

Pick a costume; easy as pie. Have fun and get candy.

Valerie:*Wearing Astrid’s clothes from How to Your Dragon 2* Whoop whoop! I love Halloween and I love this character!

Nick:*dressed as SAO Kirito* You look like nice.

Valerie:Thanks, you really like swords huh?

Nick:I mean who doesn’t? Can’t go wrong with a cool blade.

Valerie:Isn’t your character suppose to have two? You only carry one swo-

Nick:*summons arma gigas sword*

Valerie:You are a genius......

Lucas:*dressed as Neji from TWEWY* Well aren’t we a bunch of nerds right now? I like it.

Valerie:Funny, I thought you’d be some kind of ninja or samurai.

Lucas:I’m kinda unironically those things all the time.

Nick:Aren’t you a moody teenager with little motivation most of the time.

Lucas:Let me live my okay!?

*a smoke bomb goes off*

Tenzen:*jumps out in a pink naruto jumpsuit* Did someone say ninja!?

Valerie:*cough* Where did you get a smoke bomb!?

Lucas:Question, why is it pink and not orange? It could’ve matched your hair.

Tenzen:Use that semblance of yours and maybe you’ll find out.

Lucas:........

Lucas:*grinning* Okay that’s cool as hell.

Nick:What’s cool as hell?

Tenzen:*clothes turn orange as he activates semblance* Anyone can wear a jumpsuit; who can create their one chakra mode design? This guy can.

Nick:That’s cool as hell!!!!!!

Tenzen: *bowing* Anyone seen Jin around? I want to show her!

Yujin:Ahem!

Everyone:*turns around*

Yujin:*hands confidently on her hips as she’s dressed like Tifa, but with a twist. On her back is the buster sword and her hair spiked like Cloud*

Tenzen:*breathless*

Yujin:I had to represent two of my favorite things. Badass women who punch things and cool guys with big swords.

Valerie:Your parents would be proud.

Yujin:😁

Tenzen:I think Yujin might be the coolest.

Nick:What if i told you that Jael is right behind with the perfect cosplay for her fighting style, body type, and hair?

Valerie:And also looks really hot.

Tenzen:*turns around*

Jael:*dressed like samurai Erza Scarlet. Complete with her hair up and her own sword* Sup everyone, are you all okay?

Everyone:*blushing* We’re fine....

Tenzen:*slightly staring*

Yujin:Last time I checked her eyes were a little higher Tenzen. *tapping her foot*

Tenzen:*flinching* Sorry!!!!

Sienna:*dressed like Jessie from Toy Story* Told you someone was gonna cheek you out.

Lucas:Aye, that’s an interesting choice.

Sienna:I can relate to Jessie on a personal level.

Jacquelyn:*wearing the same outfit as Gaia from Captain Planet* Aww you guys look so happy dressed up. Where’s Summer and Carmine?

“Big sis is getting ready*

Everyone looks down to see little Garnet in a wolf onesie.

Garnet:Rawr!

Jacquelyn:Well aren’t you just the cutest little thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on!!!! *picks him up* I could just eat you up!

Yujin:So does Carmine’s little brother come and go as he please?

Lucas:Kids play by their own rules.

Jacquelyn:Well this little wolf pup can stay forever if he wants to!

Garnet:I’m apart of big sis’s costume.

Valerie:Isn’t little red riding hood a little bit too on the nose?

Carmine:*steps in as Gerhem from Bloodborne* Who said anything about little red riding hood?

Valerie:I should’ve guessed....

Yujin:*eyes shining* Why are you always so cool? Why do you have to be in another universe?

Carmine:Because your Jaune likes blondes slightly more than red heads apparently.

Yujin:(Oh you’d be surprised.) We’re gonna have a private talk about that later.

Garnet:Carmine!!!

Carmine:Hey there my little monster!!! *holds him* having fun dressing up with your cool big sis?

Garnet:Ah! A hunter, imma fight you. *waving paws*

Carmine:*gasp!* Tiny paws! My only weakness!

*both laughing*

Everyone:(Since when does Carmine look happy?)

Lucas:That just leaves one left. What’s taking summer so-

Summer:*rushing in* I’m here!!!!

The crew is surprised to see her rush in out of breath. She’s wearing brown shoes, black tights, and an over sized green sweater with two broad yellow stripes that slightly cover brown shorts. Reluctantly she’s holding a kitchen knife.

Summer:I tried putting on the blue sweater with the pink stripes and grabbing the stick but it wasn’t working out.

Tenzen:I guess you can say you didn’t have enough “determination.”

Lucas:If you look in the mirror is it “still you”

Summer:......

Summer:Gosh you two, I “love” your undertale jokes.

Nick:Can you not say that word while you dressed like that please? I don’t need Shiva getting ideas.

Summer:Whatever, let’s just go get some candy.

Everyone:All right!!!!!

[blossom-hwa]

Love a Demon - JAEMIN

uh.... yeah.... i was on hiatus.... sorry for my super long absence. school’s been kicking my ass and i’ve really been hating everything recently... i wasn’t in such a good place. but i found some time to write and that coincided with some lucky inspiration for this fic, so i’ve finally finished it! as for the messages in my inbox, i’ll answer 

thank you thank you yet again to @chenle for the idea of guardian devils that gave birth to this entire series! if you want to read it, here it is! 

Pairing: Jaemin x fem!reader 

Genre: angst, fluff, angel/demon!au

Triggers: death, cancer (I tried to portray things as accurately as I could which was difficult because I don’t have experience in the matter; I did not intend to romanticize anything and if you find that I did, please please message me and let me know how I can fix it!)

Notes: reading “Trust a Demon” or “Kiss an Angel” isn’t required to understand most of the story, but it might make some things less confusing. Both of Mark’s and Chenle’s stories are mentioned here anyway. 

Word Count: 7.6k

Loving a demon comes at a price. 

NCT Masterlist | Angels and Demons

Love begins slowly.

. . . . .

Jaemin walks out of Lucifer’s throne room, wincing. Two new characters are imprinted into the curve of his wrist, visible only to him.

They’re paler than he expected.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, testing your name out on his tongue. “Y/N L/N.”

“Who’s Y/N?” Haechan asks out of the blue, slinging an arm around Jaemin’s neck. “New girlfriend?”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, shoving Haechan’s arm away. “No. New assignment. And I’ve only ever had one girlfriend!”

“Hence the ‘new’,” the older boy huffs, replacing his arm.

“That makes it sound like I’ve had more than one already!” Jaemin complains.

“Connotation, Hyuck, I’ve told you about this before,” Mark says, walking up. “Just because you were born in a century when connotation wasn’t a word doesn’t mean you don’t understand its meaning. New assignment, Jaemin?”

“Yeah.” Jaemin almost shows Mark his wrist before remembering that only he can see it. “Y/N L/N. Her last guardian demon… he almost left her to die. Lucifer wasn’t happy, so he’s serving punishment now.”

All three demons wince.

“Cute,” Haechan finally says, making a face.

“How is punishment cute?” Jisung says, startling them all.

“Stop sneaking up like that!” Mark snaps.

“It’s a colloquial term used to describe pretty much anything,” Haechan explains. “Shouldn’t you know, Jisung, since you literally just got out of preschool?”

Jaemin just pinches Jisung’s scowling cheek and smiles. “Jisung is cute. Punishment is not,” he decides, looking at his wrist again. “I should probably go and check out this Y/N girl. So I know what she looks like and all. I’ll see you later, I guess.”

There’s the usual chorus of goodbyes, and then Jaemin touches his tattoo and is sent to earth.

“I’ll never get used to this,” he mutters, blinking rapidly. The sun is almost too bright compared to the darkness of hell, and it takes a while to adjust. The nauseating feeling of being pulled apart and put back together again eases quickly though, and after a few minutes, he feels well again.

“Y/N L/N,” he whispers, listening intently for any sounds of the name. “Y/N L/N.”

“Y/N!” someone shouts nearby. Jaemin whips around, turning towards the shout.

And then he sees you.

You’re laughing, bag slung over your back, hair tumbling over your shoulders as you talk animatedly with someone Jaemin assumes is your friend. He can see your twinkling eyes, your wide smile, your tanned skin, and for a moment, he’s mesmerized.

He’s glad that his friends didn’t come along, or they’d probably be teasing him about his flaring cheeks. He’s also glad that no one can see him, because he’s sure that they’d think he’s a creep for staring.

With a start, he realizes his time is running out. You’re walking away anyway, going someplace else. He weaves through the crowd and ends up behind a row of shops, full of the shade and shadows that characterize his home.

As he melts into the darkness, Jaemin thinks to himself that he’ll never forget your face.

. . . . .

Love is complicated.

. . . . .

Jaemin’s first time saving you happens not two weeks after he first sees you, and it’s nothing like he expects.

“What are you doing here?” he yells at the boy who’s glaring at him with just as much hatred.

“She’s my assignment, what about you?” Jeno sneers, refusing to back down.

Anger gives way to confusion which in turn gives way to guilt over how lost and scared you look, caught between the two boys, eyes wide with fear and bewilderment.

“How can she be your assignment when she’s mine?” Jaemin asks, the venom fading from his voice.

Jeno’s eyes fill with the same confusion he’s sure are in his, and he shakes his head. “Stop lying,” he snaps, but Jaemin knows that Jeno’s bluffing.

“No lie, Jael,” Jaemin smirks, regaining some of his former confidence. “Lost your touch? Can’t tell when I’m lying or not anymore?”

Jeno scowls, his eyes turning murderous. “Don’t call me that,” he seethes. “You don’t deserve to.”

“Uh… guys?”

Both boys turn their heads to you, eyes softening immediately. You’re gripping your bag so tightly your knuckles are turning white but the fear in your eyes is mostly gone, replaced by cautious curiosity. “What… what’s going on?” You take a deep breath, loosening your grip. “I saw the block falling… and someone pulled me away… who was it?” You look between the two boys, and Jaemin swears his heart stops beating when you look into his eyes for that one split second.

“Me,” he finally gets out. “It was me.”

Jeno scoffs quietly but doesn’t argue. If there’s anything good about the angel, it’s that he won’t tell lies.

Your soft smile is worth seeing his enemy again. “How… how did you do it so fast? It was…” You laugh a little shakily. “If I hadn’t almost died, I’d be raving over how cool that was. Anyway, uh, thank you.” You laugh again. “I owe you.”

“No, you don’t,” Jeno interrupts, looking annoyed. “It was his job.”

Oh, fuck you, Jael.

“Job?” you echo, looking lost yet again.

“Why do you ruin everything, Ja - Jeno?” Jaemin snaps, ignoring Jeno’s slight flinch. “Now we have to tell her!”

Jeno blinks once, then twice, then shrugs slightly. To anyone who didn’t know him well, they’d believe his casualness, but Jaemin can still read his former best friend like a book. He knows Jeno is just as confused by his actions as he is.

A sigh escapes Jaemin’s lips, but he forces a gentle smile just to put you at ease. “We’re… well, he’s a guardian angel.” Jaemin gestures slightly at Jeno. “And, uh, I’m a demon. A guardian demon.”

There’s a long moment of silence between the three of you.

“Angels and demons exist?” you finally ask.

“Yes, they do,” Jeno replies, cutting Jaemin off. A flash of annoyance runs through the demon and he knows Jeno noticed. Jaemin didn’t miss the angel’s tiny smirk.

Your voice cuts into Jaemin’s thoughts. “I’ve never heard of a guardian demon before.”

“Well, now you have.” Jaemin laughs slightly, edging a little closer to you. He doesn’t miss the way Jeno’s eyes latch onto the small movement and a slight sense of triumph runs through him.

“So I have a guardian angel and a guardian demon?” you ask. “How come I’ve never seen either of you until now?”

“Well, technically you’re only supposed to have one,” Jeno breaks in. “Either an angel or a demon. But I guess the universe screwed up this time.” The glance Jeno sends Jaemin is brief but full of venom that Jaemin returns. “And we only appear when you’re in a life or death situation, like just now.”

You nod slowly. “Interesting,” you murmur, looking between the boys curiously. “Well, it was nice meeting you…” You trail off, realizing you don’t know their names.

The two boys look at each other instinctively, wordlessly coming to an agreement. They look away just as quickly.

“Jaemin.”

“Jeno.”

“It was nice meeting you, Jaemin and Jeno,” you finish sweetly, bowing slightly to them both. “I’ll leave now. Thank you for saving my life,” you add, flashing Jaemin another sweet smile.

Jaemin can feel his heart thumping.

“The pleasure was all mine,” he replies, smiling back. A tinge of satisfaction runs through his veins as he sees Jeno’s eye twitch. “Try not to get into too much trouble,” he teases gently.

“I will,” you tease back conspiratorially, and with a slight wave, you leave.

Once you’re gone, the tension between the angel and demon becomes palpable again, so thick it could be cut with a knife.

“Of course if the universe screwed up, it’d have to put me with you,” Jeno spits bitterly.

“You think this is any fun for me?” Jaemin snaps back.

Jeno scoffs once, then disappears in a flash of light.

“Well, fuck you too,” Jaemin mutters, melting into the shadows.

. . . . .

Love grows quickly.

. . . . .

“I’m only seeing her to make sure she’s okay,” Jaemin whispers to himself as he walks down the street. “Just to make sure she’s okay.”

Deep inside, he knows that’s a lie, but he shoves that thought away. You’ve nearly died twice now, and though you didn’t look too shaken up the last time, Jaemin could see that you were trembling slightly. He could feel you shaking in his grasp as he gave your hand one last squeeze, ignoring Jeno’s glare, before you walked away.

Maybe it’s just Jaemin, but he can’t seem to forget the way you smiled that first time he saved you. He hated the terrified look in your eyes that last time and he feels he’d do anything to see you smile again.

Humming slightly, he opens the door to the music store where you work. His eyes sweep the shop until they land on your figure as you arrange CDs on shelves. He immediately makes a beeline for you.

When he’s a few feet away, you turn around, perhaps hearing his footsteps. It’s with surprise that you greet him with a quiet exclamation of his name as you put away the last CD. “Why’re you here?” you ask, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face.

Jaemin swallows, his cheeks turning a bit red. “Just…” He swallows again, then composes himself. “Just wanted to make sure you’re doing okay after what happened… last time.”

Your eyes darken slightly and Jaemin feels bad for making you remember, but the look clears after a bit and you smile at him a little sadly. “I’m fine, Jaemin,” you say softly, eyes flitting around. “There are worse things than death.”

He frowns a little. What is that supposed to mean?

“Anyway, where’s Jeno?” you ask, clearly trying to divert the topic. “I thought you two were a package deal or something. You two always appear together.”

A sour expression twists Jaemin’s face. “Not willingly,” he mutters.

“Oh. Uh… sorry.” Your awkwardly apologetic face tilts the corners of Jaemin’s mouth though, and he laughs. “It’s alright, Y/N. It’s a reasonable question.”

“He’s an angel and you’re a demon, right?” you ask. “Mind explaining to me how this works in more detail? I know you said some stuff the first time we met, but I didn’t quite grasp it.”

Jaemin bites his lip, looking at the clock at the back of the store.

I’m going to be in so much trouble when I get back, he thinks wryly. He isn’t supposed to even see you outside of life and death situations, and now you’re asking him to explain this convoluted world of angels and demons. It’s all technically forbidden.

But for some reason, he doesn’t care.

Mark did it, didn’t he? Jaemin reasons. Plus, he wouldn’t pass up a chance to see your eyes light up with wonder the same way they did when you first met.

“Sure,” he hears himself say. “When’s your break? We can go to the café next door.”

You wave him off, grinning. “It isn’t busy and my brother owns this place,” you say. “Let’s go!”

And later, when Jaemin looks at you over his cup of Americano, seeing your eyes sparkling with curiosity, he wonders if love can really come this quickly.

. . . . .

Love comes steadily.

. . . . .

A lashing the first time, two lashings the second. Jaemin doesn’t care. Seeing your face is worth the pain.

Mark tells him no, it shouldn’t be. But Na Jaemin doesn’t care. Doesn’t Mark have a girlfriend, anyway? A human girlfriend?

“It’s - that’s a special case!” Mark sputters, trying to dissuade the younger boy, but Jaemin later notices that Mark’s stopped trying to persuade him so much.

Sometimes, though, Jaemin wishes Mark tried harder to stop him. Because with every time Jaemin sees you, he wants less and less to leave.

He also wishes Jeno could just butt out of his life, but clearly the universe has other plans.

“Leave her alone,” Jeno hisses one day, cornering Jaemin as he’s coming out of the music shop for the nth time. Jaemin flinches slightly in surprise before setting his features in a hard, cold, look.

“And why should I?”

“You’re corrupting her,” Jeno spits. “And you’re not supposed to be with her, exception or no.”

“Too bad I’ve never quite been one for rules, though, Jael,” Jaemin replies with forced lightness. He refuses to look at the older boy but can feel his gaze boring into his skin. “And corrupting? I think that’s a bit of a strong word, don’t you think?”

“Clearly not if I just used it,” Jeno snaps. “I choose my words carefully, unlike you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

There’s a sigh, and then Jeno’s forcing Jaemin to face him, ignoring all the strange looks he’s receiving from passerby. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses. “Telling her sweet words, making promises you can’t keep, revealing everything? She’s a human, she’s your assignment, for heaven’s sake. All you’re doing is hurting her!”

The words strike a little close to home but Jaemin’s face remains neutral. “If I didn’t know better,” he replies coolly, “I’d think you cared for her.” A smirk twitches the side of his lip. “But we both know that isn’t true, right?” He spins around to walk away.

“I may not be able to stop you,” Jeno says behind him, “but your kind most certainly can.”

Jaemin’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look back.

He can’t stop the slight guilt in his chest, though, the next time he sees you.

Jeno wasn’t completely wrong about Jaemin’s words.

. . . . .

Love is difficult.

. . . . .

One year passes. You grow closer to Jaemin. Jaemin becomes more attached to you.

And the tattoo on his wrist begins to lose its boldness and becomes lighter.

Jaemin wonders if you know your life is ebbing away. He wonders if you know that this tentative romance between him and you cannot last. That it likely won’t even reach full bloom.

If he had more time, if he didn’t have Jeno on his back, Jaemin thinks you could have a beautiful love, just like the one Mark has with his girlfriend. Mark doesn’t know it, but Jaemin envies him and his luck.

“I find it intriguing how some people have happy endings while others don’t,” you remark one day. Jaemin’s helping you put away records and CDs on the shelves but he stops when he hears your words.

“Intriguing.”

“Yes, intriguing.” You turn around to face him. “Some people have happy endings but don’t deserve them. Some have sad endings but don’t deserve them. Is that really fair?”

A cold awkwardness begins to settle in the air. Jaemin looks at you, really looks at you, and notices the changes in your appearance. Eye bags, listless hair, pale skin. Your eyes aren’t sparkling like they usually are. Your lips don’t smile like they usually do.

He realizes you have less time than even he thought.

“Have you been speaking with Jeno?” Jaemin whispers. His mind kicks into overdrive. If you have, then just how much has he told you?

You don’t answer, instead opening another box of CDs.

“Have you?” Jaemin presses.

Finally, you look up. “And if I have?”

It hurts, knowing that you’ve met with his sworn enemy with the full knowledge that they hate each other. Still, Jaemin tries to understand.

Trying to understand doesn’t stop him from wanting to spit in Jeno’s face. Seeing as the angel isn’t here, however, he settles for taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“Jeno and I have very different beliefs,” he begins carefully. “He believes that all should be fair. If someone has done good deeds, why should they have their life cut short when they could be given the gift of life for longer?”

You don’t look at him, but Jaemin knows you’re listening. He continues. “And yet… who is he to decide whether or not someone may live longer? Who is God to decide that? If the universe ordained someone’s life to be as long as it is… who has the right to change fate?”

Placing the last few CDs on the shelf, you finally turn around again. Jaemin sees the pain in your face and knows that you know how short your life will be.

“Angels believe some lives should be prolonged, while others may be shortened. Demons believe lives should stay the same length they were preordained to. I am a demon, so you know what I believe. I do not know which side is right or wrong. Beliefs do not mean truth. But that is what I believe.”

You nod slightly.

“Nothing is truly fair. You can divide your candies into two piles of equal amounts but none of the candies are the same size. You can try to pour equal amounts of milk into two glasses but they will never be the same. Bad people may die rich. Good people may die poor. But at the end of the day, as callous as it sounds, it is their fate. They will be rewarded or punished as they must be in the afterlife.”

The silence between you two extends until the bell at the door rings, signaling the arrival of another customer. Without a second glance, without another word, you brush past Jaemin to greet them.

Jaemin sighs. While you’re busy, he walks out of the store. The bell rings, signaling his exit, but you don’t follow him.

He sets off to find Jeno.

. . . . .

Love is hard.

. . . . .

“Jael!” Jaemin yells, startling the angel into turning around. His mouth twists into a snarl.

Jeno only looks at Jaemin haughtily. “What do you want?”

Jaemin sneers, eyes flashing with fire. “So you told me to stay away from Y/N,” he seethes, “but then you go and tell her a bunch of crap about me, right? Hypocrite, much?”

The angel stiffens slightly but still says nothing.

“What is wrong with you?!” Jaemin yells. “What is your problem?! I get that you hate me and I do too but for fuck’s sake, I would never purposely try to ruin your happiness!”

“So you admit it, then?” Jeno’s quiet voice startles Jaemin. “You admit that she’s your happiness?”

Wind rustles through the trees, picking up the leaves and sending them swirling around. Agitated, Jaemin doesn’t realize that the leaves are starting to swirl around him as his powers react to his emotions.

Jaemin’s stuck. He can’t say no, because Jeno knows when he lies. And he basically just admitted it. So why doesn’t he say anything? Why doesn’t he loudly declare his love for you?

As the leaves swirl around him faster and faster, whipping through his hair and crackling in the air, Jaemin stares at Jeno’s eyes, and he knows why he doesn’t loudly claim his love.

Jeno’s eyes, so dark and mysterious, so beautiful and dangerous, hold no anger. No resentment.

Only sadness.

And Jaemin realizes that Jeno loves you too.

He doesn’t need to say anything, though. The look in his eyes, the swirling leaves, his flushed face all speak volumes of the truth. Jeno doesn’t need words to know.

The angel gives the demon one last, long look before disappearing in a flash of light.

All the fight leaves Jaemin’s body and the leaves flutter to the ground, scattering themselves around him. He sinks down, staring at the leaf that’s fallen onto his lap.

It’s a burst of orange, yellow, red, a bright sunset captured in a single leaf. But there’s a touch of soggy brown at the tip, hinting at its inevitable decay.

Like you.

Jaemin sighs, twirling the leaf in his fingers before slipping it into his pocket. His eyes flutter to your name on his wrist, and his chest tightens at how light the writing is getting. Then, making sure no one is around, he disappears into the shadow of a nearby tree.

As he fades into the darkness, he wonders if you really, really know just how little time you have left.

. . . . .

Love is powerful.

. . . . .

Jaemin knows when he next sees you. The sallow bags under your eyes, the pallor of your skin. The hair hanging limp across your shoulders, the tired upturn of your lips that you send him when he walks in.

“Hi,” you greet listlessly, trying and failing to conjure your usual verve. Jaemin regrets all the weeks he spent avoiding you, thinking that you hated him.

But still, how did you change this much in a mere few weeks?

“Hi,” he replies cautiously, his heart aching.

“Nice of you to see me again,” you say.

When I’m dying.

You don’t say the words, but they hang in the air, unsaid but heavy. Stifling.

Jaemin swallows. “I’m sorry.”

The tired smile on your face grows a little warmer, your eyes regaining a little bit of their past brightness. “It’s okay,” you say. “I’m sorry, too.”

Silence.

You finally laugh a little. “You probably know, don’t you?” The glance you give his wrist saves him from answering. “I’m dying. Got the diagnosis last week. Cancer.” You lean down to pick up a box of CDs, but Jaemin rushes over and takes it from you. “Sit down for a bit,” he says. “Where do you need this?”

“Jaemin, I can do it,” you protest, but Jaemin shakes his head. “Let me.”

Silence falls in the shop. It’s late, and Jaemin knows your brother must be home by now, but he’s not. He asks why.

“He’s at the hospital. Figuring things out.” You huff a little. “I was supposed to go but I didn’t want to. I hate hospitals.”

Hearing those words almost makes Jaemin break down, but he forces himself to stay calm. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

“Don’t worry.” Suddenly you’re next to him, a hand on his arm, looking up with bright, sad eyes. “I understand. I’m sorry I didn’t before.” You muster up a small smile. “I guess it’s just my time.”

A tear rolls down your cheek.

Jaemin places the box down with a thud, spinning around to pull you into a crushing embrace, feeling your tears begin to soak his shirt. He closes his eyes, burying his face in your hair, breathing in the slight scent of your shampoo while trying not to cry himself. But despite his efforts, a tear escapes his eye.

When you finally pull away, face teary, Jaemin takes your hands, looking deep into your eyes. “I’m sorry for one more thing,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry I never told you I loved you.”

. . . . .

Love is inopportune.

. . . . .

Maybe Jaemin is neglecting his other duties. Maybe he isn’t being a proper guardian demon, and maybe Lucifer has a legitimate reason for being angry at him. But in his defense, nothing’s been happening with his other three assignments. And as much as he doesn’t like it, he knows he would leave your side in a heartbeat, if only for a short while, to save them.

Skin blistering, Jaemin blinks tears out of his eyes as he walks out of the throne room. He winces, catching a glimpse of the red, inflamed flesh of his shoulder.

“Jeez, Jaemin,” Haechan comments. “Maybe you should really take a step back.”

“Who are you to talk?” Jaemin snaps. “You spend all your time mooning over a girl who can’t even see you!”

Haechan reels, looking hurt.

“Don’t tell me I wouldn’t understand, because I do!” Jaemin ignores the screaming pain in his shoulder, gesticulating wildly. “I fucking love her, Haechan! I fucking do! This is killing me! And you expect me to take a fucking step back?!”

“Shut up, Jaemin, just shut up!” Haechan yells. “Shut up!”

“SHE IS DYING, AND YOU WANT ME TO LEAVE HER SIDE?!” Jaemin screams, tears of pain and sadness springing into his eyes.

“YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO LOVES SOMEONE AS MUCH AS YOU DO!” Haechan yells, scraping his arm across his face.

Jaemin whirls around, ready to stalk off, but someone blocks his way. He looks up, ready to go off again, but softens slightly when he sees Jisung looking between his two friends. “Hi, Jisung,” he says in a clipped tone.

“Hi,” the younger boy says cautiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing -”

“Jaemin here is being an idiot,” Haechan spits.

“YOU LITERALLY KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I’M GOING THROUGH, AND YOU’RE GOING TO CALL ME AN IDIOT?!”

“Whoa.” With an authority Jaemin didn’t know he had, Jisung places a calming hand on his friends’ arms. “Okay. I think I know what’s going on.”

Haechan scoffs, but Jisung takes no notice. A sad, faraway look envelops his young face, and he hangs his head slightly. “Let’s go talk somewhere else.”

So that’s how three demons find themselves on a quiet field, sitting stiffly on the grass, two of them refusing point-blank to look at each other. Jisung glances at both of them, sees their animosity, and sighs.

“You’re both in love with humans. People you’re supposed to guard.” He states the fact simply, without glamour or fanfare.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jaemin sees Haechan nod slightly. He does the same.

“I loved someone once. First love. We met through dance at the academy, started dating in high school. Then I died.”

The admission falls out of Jisung’s lips as naturally as water over a cliff, but the words seem so alien that for a moment, animosity forgotten, his two friends only stare at him open-mouthed. His words are so frank, so utterly honest and natural, and yet they can’t believe it. How could Jisung, their quiet and innocent friend, have ever loved someone to the depth that he claims he has? Sweet, quiet Jisung, who never knows what’s going on? 

But his eyes tell the truth. And right now, they convey a knowledge far beyond the boy’s years. Jaemin listens intently, ears straining to catch every word.

“I thought I’d never see her again. I became friends with you guys and the others in heaven, then we joined Lucifer, and long story short, I thought she would have forgotten about me. At least ten years had passed by then. I wouldn’t have blamed her.” Jisung stares into the distance, plucking at the grass absentmindedly. “And then her guardian angel almost failed her, and by some stupid trick of fate, I got assigned to her instead.”

Haechan sucks in a breath.

“She hadn’t forgotten about me.” Jisung sighs. “Every year she went back to my grave. She talked to me as though I was still alive. She never stopped, not even… not even after she got married.”

It’s Jaemin’s turn to gasp.

“She’s happy now.” Jaemin looks over to see Jisung smiling slightly, the brightness truly reaching his eyes. “And I am too. I’m glad she’s happy, and not still hung up over me.” He pauses, and his smile grows wider. “I’m not hung up over her, either.”

There’s a small silence, broken only by the wind whistling across the field.

Jisung clears his throat. “Point is, I get what you guys are thinking. And it’s hard. Haechan, you know how hard it is. She doesn’t even know you exist. So be a bit more understanding to Jaemin.”

Haechan nods almost imperceptibly.

“And Jaemin, it’s difficult, yes, but keep her in mind. Make her days feel as full and bright as possible. Let her leave with as few regrets as possible.” Jisung smiles a little. “You’ll always love her, and she’ll always love you.”

And the more Jaemin thinks about it, Jisung is right. He looks over at the younger boy with a newfound respect, marveling at the hidden wisdom behind the boy’s young face. “Thanks, ‘Sung,” he says, before turning to Haechan. “And I’m sorry, Haechan.”

Haechan nods. “I’m sorry, too.”

Jisung breaks the short silence that follows by standing up, dusting blades of grass off of his pants. “Mark’s girlfriend invited us to dinner when I was with them earlier. We should probably go now.”

Jisung and Haechan disappear into the shadows, but Jaemin lingers a bit longer, lost in his thoughts. They still whirl around his mind, just as chaotic as before, but not so fast. A little calmer.

Maybe he feels a bit more at peace too.

Jaemin closes his eyes, feeling the wind on his face. It ripples through his hair, his clothes, and brushes gently, coolly, against his skin.

If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was the universe, telling him that things will be alright.

. . . . .

Love has no kindness.

. . . . .

“I’m back,” Jaemin says softly, reappearing in your hospital room long after the place has closed. In one hand he carries a bag of food, and in the other, one of your favorite books.

“Good.” Your muffled voice is tired but when you roll over slightly, careful not to disturb the needles in your arms, your eyes are happy. You make small grabbing motions with your hands. “Food.”

Jaemin laughs. “Always hungry,” he teases, setting the bag carefully on the table. Laughing at your whining, he pokes a cookie in between your lips. “Here.”

You hum in delight, chewing the cookie, and reach over to turn on the bedside lamp. With it, Jaemin can see your sunken features, your overly pale skin, your shaved head. And his heart hurts.

Something hits his chest. “Don’t look at me like that,” you snap, gesturing at the snack now lying on the floor. “I’m fine. Now eat something!”

“Sorry.” He picks up the snack, unwrapping it slowly as he sits on the bed next to you. “I just… never mind.”

“Hey.” You pause in picking up another cookie to take his hand instead.

Your hands are warm. They fit perfectly in his.

“You’re the one who told me things can’t be changed, right?” you murmur, looking up at him. “Nothing is going to change. I wish it wasn’t like this either, but what can I do?” You shrug as best you can, lying down in the bed. “What can you do?”

Nothing. The word hangs unsaid in the air, enveloping the room in a dark cloud of sadness.

He can’t do anything.

As much as he wants to, he can’t. Maybe if you were supposed to die in a car crash he could save you from that. Pull you out of the car. Shield you from something.

But against this illness? He can’t do anything to prevent it from spreading. He has no medical knowledge. He knows nothing. And even if he did, he couldn’t do it.

Not even Jeno can try to turn this matter around.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything.”

Your hands squeeze his with surprising strength. “Don’t be.”

“I wish I were as strong as you.” Jaemin’s voice is choked, a little broken, and full of guilt.

“But Jaemin, you are.” You smile a little, its brightness reaching your eyes ever so slightly. “You love me. Loving takes strength. To love someone broken takes even more.”

“You’re not broken.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.” Jaemin presses a kiss to your forehead. “Maybe at one point you were, but you aren’t now. Broken would imply you’re missing something. Or some part of you isn’t working. Is that true?”

“Yeah. My immune system.” You snicker, watching him roll your eyes. But the mischievous glint fades away to a peaceful glimmer, full of warmth and love, that dissipates the cold, damp sadness that had settled in the room.

Jaemin idly begins to play around with your fingers and you let him, closing your eyes in contentment. A tiny smile plays on your face, and Jaemin can’t help the kiss he presses to your lips.

You open your eyes. “Do that again,” you whisper.

And with a smile, he does.

. . . . .

Love has a price.

. . . . .

“Jaoel.”

Jaemin stiffens, turning around to come face to face with Jeno.

“Who’s the one that didn’t want me calling them by their God-given name?” he mocks.

Tension crackles in the air as the two beings stare at each other. Jeno bites his lip hard and Jaemin smirks. He knows that habit. Jeno does it whenever he’s trying to hold back his anger.

“Are you really going to let her die?” Jeno finally says, raising a tense eyebrow.

The hairs on Jaemin’s neck stand up. “Don’t you dare,” he says lowly.

“Don’t I dare what, Jaoel?” Jeno laughs mirthlessly, eyes fixating on Jaemin’s with an intensity that can’t be matched. “Tell me. Don’t. I. Dare. What?”

Dead silence.

“You’re not the only one who loves her, you know,” Jeno whispers.

“And you’re not the person who knows best for her!” Jaemin snaps.

“And are you, Jaemin? ARE YOU?!”

Jeno’s shout makes Jaemin flinch slightly, but he holds his ground. “No,” he hisses, “but I know that she doesn’t deserve to suffer even more than she already is.”

Pure pain flashes through Jeno’s eyes for one second and Jaemin can commiserate, remembering with a pang at how weak and pale you seemed the last time he saw you. “Would you really want her to suffer like this?” he murmurs. Heart heavy, he turns around, ready to leave.

Behind him, Jeno snorts derisively. “Do you really love her if you would let her go so easily?” he spits, eyes full of pain and fury. “Is that really love, Jaoel? Is that all she’s worth to you?”

Jaemin whips around, eyes ablaze. “Don’t you dare insinuate that I want her to die!” he yells.

“If you truly loved her, you’d want her to live as long as possible,” Jeno snarls back.

“This is what I hate about you angels!” Jaemin’s shouting, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the pain in his heart whenever he thinks about your smile and the sacrifice he has to make. “You always think everything can be perfect, but it can’t! Nothing can be perfect! No one, just because they are who they are, can live longer than they are supposed to! You can’t decide that!”

The angel snorts derisively. “And look at you,” he mocks, “all high and mighty because you think you’re doing the right thing. But should some lives not be preserved for as long as possible?” Tears brim in Jeno’s eyes and Jaemin can tell it’s taking all of his effort not to crumple into a crying mess, but the angel remains standing. “You can’t tell me you don’t believe she deserves it. No, not even her - you can’t tell me you’ve never met a single person who deserved to live longer than they did!”

Jaemin squeezes his eyes tight as he tries to shut away all the memories of you. But it doesn’t work. Your face flits through his mind. Your laugh, your smile, your eyes. The way you cry. The way you shout with joy. The way you clasp his hand in yours, grinning as bright as the sun.

He remembers the way you looked in the hospital, paler, weaker, but with a smile still bright enough to light up the entire room, and Jaemin knows that if there was anyone he knew that deserved to live longer, that would be you.

The demon finally looks up, all signs of his usual flirtatious smile gone. His eyes bore into Jeno’s, which are teary and full of pain. Jaemin’s heart does ache for him, because he knows now just how much Jeno loves you.

But you love Jaemin. You chose him. And there’s nothing he nor Jeno can do to change that.

“Do you think I want her to die?” he whispers. “Do you really think I want her to die?”

Jeno doesn’t speak.

“Life is only precious because there is death. The only thing people can do is treasure life as long they have it,” Jaemin says, practically choking on his words. He latches onto them, grasps them like a drowning man with a rope because they have to be true. If they aren’t, he… he doesn’t know. He will have chosen sides for nothing. Lost half of everything important to him over nothing.

Watched you die for nothing.

“Then,” Jeno says quietly, voice still carrying like a gunshot, “shouldn’t people have it longer?”

Jaemin swallows hard. “If that is so, Jael, then why aren’t humans immortal?”

Silence.

“Part of loving someone is knowing when you must let them go,” he whispers.

. . . . .

Love is tragic.

. . . . .

Jaemin freezes upon entering your room. Jeno does as well. You look between the two boys, a weak, amused smile twitching your lips. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Jaemin replies cautiously. “Why’s he here?”

“We were discussing things,” Jeno says shortly. Surprised, Jaemin turns to him, not having expected him to answer. “Can you leave us for a bit?”

Reluctant, Jaemin looks at you, but the content expression on your face convinces him to leave. Outside in the hall, he waits impatiently, tapping his foot anxiously against the floor. Then, the door opens and almost knocks him flat.

Jeno looks at him blankly. “Sorry.” He then starts to walk off.

“Hey!” Jaemin snaps. “What were you talking about in there?”

The angel’s back tenses, but he does turn around. “I was giving her some closure. About me.”

It’s Jaemin’s turn to tense, and he has to force himself to remain calm.

“Don’t worry.” Jeno laughs a little, mirthlessly. “She still loves you.”

Looking down that hospital hall, Jaemin feels a twinge in his heart. A twinge of pity. His shoulders untense and he looks into Jeno’s eyes which, for once, are not angry. Only sad. Upset. A little hopeless.

And Jaemin finds it in his heart to say something to Jeno that he never thought he’d say, ever since he left the white purity of heaven for the dark flames of hell.

“I’m sorry.”

The angel’s eyes widen, and ever so slightly, they soften.

“Don’t be.”

“But I am.”

It’s not just about you. It’s about everything else. Betraying his friend. Leaving heaven. And maybe the bad blood will never be cleared between them, but at least he knows he apologized.

Jaemin bites his lip, hoping his eyes can convey everything he’s leaving unsaid. For ten long, agonizing seconds, the two boys stare at each other, unblinking. Then Jeno nods slightly.

“And I am too.”

He turns around and continues walking until he disappears into another corridor. When Jaemin’s sure that Jeno won’t come back, he lets himself into your room again.

“Finally, I was about to call for you!” you exclaim as Jaemin sits on the chair next to your bed. “I thought you and Jeno were having a fistfight out there or something, you were gone for so long.”

Jaemin smiles a little. “Not fighting. Just… talking.”

“From your expression I take that it went well,” you comment, looking up at him.

Jaemin shrugs, but the smile doesn’t fade. “I guess it did.”

. . . . .

Love is loss.

. . . . .

Jaemin is with you when you die. He is there, holding your hand with a grip invisible to everyone but you and him. He is there, watching the heart monitor become slower. He is there, listening to your breaths become fewer and fewer. He is there, pressing a last, soft kiss to your lips, and he is there, feeling your tiny sigh of content against his face, seeing the slight flutter of your eyelashes as you make an effort to look at him, hearing the faint ‘I love you’ that passes your lips.

A few hours pass. Your family and friends congregate in the room, watching you sadly, not noticing the demon in the room. And then the heart monitor goes flat.

You’re dead.

You’re dead, and everything hurts.

For two days, Jaemin locks himself in his room, alternately crying and staring into space. Your name on his wrist has faded away completely. It’s as though you never existed. But of course, he knows you did.

Why do I get this fate? Jaemin wonders. Even Chenle got a happy ending. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he begrudges the fallen angel slightly for his newfound freedom to spend the rest of eternity with the risen demon he loves.

Why?

What did I do to deserve this?

It’s selfish, he knows. Jeno must be suffering just as much as him. But at least he might find you in heaven, whereas Jaemin isn’t sure if you’d give up heaven to come to hell.

It ends up being Jisung who drags Jaemin out of his bed and to the field where they talked before with Haechan. It seems like ages ago.

They don’t talk much. Jaemin mostly stares blankly into space while Jisung sits next to him, just as a pillar of support. Jaemin doesn’t cry.

Jisung takes Jaemin to a convenience store. Together, they order cups of noodles, then sit at a table in silence. When the food arrives, it takes a lot of effort for Jaemin to swallow it down. Everything still hurts.

When they finally leave the store, a familiar figure is walking down the street. Hands tucked into his pockets, eyes downcast, dressed in dark clothes, Jeno makes his way slowly to the two demons, seemingly not even registering their presence. As they pass, though, he looks up slightly, and he shares a look with Jaemin.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry, too.

A moment of understanding passes between the two, and then Jeno turns away, ending the moment almost as soon as it began. With a sigh, Jaemin turns back to Jisung and together, the two of them melt into the shadows.

. . . . .

Love always finds its way back.

. . . . .

“Jaemin, Lucifer wants to see you,” Mark says.

“I don’t want to see him.” After the king of hell told him to stop wasting time with you and to get back to work, later flogging him for disregarding his orders, Jaemin hasn’t seen him since. And he likes it that way.

Mark shrugs in sympathy. “You can’t ignore him though.”

Jaemin smiles mirthlessly. “Bet.”

“No, I don’t bet,” Mark says firmly. “Now go.”

A heavy sigh leaves Jaemin’s lips, but he nods. “Fine.”

Jaemin’s will to continue weakens with every step he takes, but after what seems like an eternity, he finally ends up in front of the throne room. The flaming doors greet him as per usual, hissing and screaming with the pain of eternities of souls trapped in eternal punishment. Unfazed, he waits for the doors to open.

“Jaemin.” Lucifer’s voice booms as the demon kneels and bows his head.

“My lord.” Jaemin bites his lip.

“You may rise.” As Jaemin stands up, head still bowed, Lucifer continues. “We have a new member in our ranks. I would like you to train her and act as her mentor until she grasps things.”

With his head bowed, Jaemin can only see the new demon’s feet as she walks across the floor. He lifts his head, ready to greet her, then stumbles backwards in shock.

Jaemin barely remembers seeing you with your skin looking so healthy, with your eyes so bright, with your smile so wide and exhilarating and full of joy. But that’s how you look, standing mere inches in front of him.

He’s so shell-shocked that he barely remembers to bow to Lucifer. “I will teach her as best I can,” Jaemin says, voice trembling with overwhelming emotion. He looks into his king’s eyes of flaming pits and sees, amidst the flames, a touch of feeling.

Just as quickly as he saw it, it is gone, but Jaemin knows his eyes didn’t lie. He makes a last deep bow of gratitude, and then Lucifer waves you two out of the room. The second the doors slam shut, Jaemin’s arms are around you and yours are around him as you clutch each other for dear life. Little choked noises escape your throats and neither of you can string together a coherent sentence, but words are unneeded. Jaemin can only clutch you tighter and tighter, unable to believe that this is truly happening.

“How?” he finally manages, loosening his grip slightly so he can look into your eyes. They’re teary and a little red, but you look as beautiful as ever. “I… we only managed to escape from heaven after months of planning. How did you…?”

You wipe your eyes. “Jeno,” you say. “Jeno helped me.”

A whole rush of emotions hit Jaemin at once, as though someone’s just punched him in the stomach. Overwhelming surprise, wariness, and gratitude fill his throat and all he can come up with is a startled, choked noise. “Jeno?”

There’s a hint of sadness in your eyes as you nod. “Yes.”

Maybe Jeno didn’t do it for Jaemin. Maybe he did it just for you. That’s highly likely, and Jaemin almost believes it. But some tiny part of him wonders if maybe, just maybe, Jeno did it for him. At least partially.

He thinks that might be the case. It makes him smile, just a bit. 

As he pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your lips with a raw fervor that almost lifts you up off your feet, he thanks his former best friend. He thanks the universe for aligning the two of you together. He thanks Lucifer for allowing you in, for allowing him to mentor you.

And he thanks his lucky stars that you could ever love a demon such as him.

[razorblade180]

Lasting Embers pt17: Bloody Sand

Jael:*twirling her new whistle* Die huh? Somebody is quick to the point; not even gonna say your motives.

M:Thought that would be obvious *cracks knuckles*

Jael:*staring at the figure in the far back* If I had to take a guess I’d say the only reason the lady is protected in the back is to act like a pretty little storage unit for powers. How’s it feel to be wanted only for your body? Self esteem must be low.

C:Oh I’m going to enjoy killing you. *eyes glow a blood red*

*grimm form a wide circle around Jael*

Jael:(That confirms it; I guess these are the cult members I’ve heard about. Explains why they would be looking for mom) *looks to her left* you seem pretty normal; no weird black veins or glowing eyes like your friends.

H:*crouching low* maybe not but trust me, I play rougher than both of them. *grips his machetes*

*wind howls*

Jael:(Well, looks like they aren’t just gonna let me run. Guess I got no choice) *slowly inhales, left arm resting on her sword*

H:Lady, are you sure you wanna do th-

Jael:*channels her semblance and blows the whistle.....hard.*

*a high pitched screech agonizes everything, forcing them to cover their ears. This whistle slightly cracks*

M:Agh! What kind of whistle.....!?

Jael:(Better move fast....) *flicks the tackle box up in the hair and kicks it at him*

M:*catches it* Hmph, foolish g- *box rattles*

Jael:Better hope that’s not your writing hand.

*box instantly drops to the ground, crushing his hand underneath it. A think black substance oozes from his hand as he shouts in pain*

Jael:(No aura?)

H:Master!!!! *dashes at Jael*

Jael:So that’s what the “M” stands for.... *quickly fires her sword off one of his blades then blocks the other with her sheath* thanks...

H:DON’T FUCK WITH ME! *sand pillars shoot up around them, transforming into a copy of his likeness*

Jael:*head butts him before jumping towards her blade* that’s unexpected.

*the both of them immediately go at it exchanging sword strikes. Jael rapidly countering each side slash with her own while taking shots at the sand clones*

Jael:(He’s pretty good)*side stepping him to thrust another attack into a clones head, causing it to crumble.*

H:*smirks as four more clones form as he hurls a blade* let’s see you weasel your way out of this one.

C:*eyes glow*, sending the pack of grimm to attack from all directions*

Jael:Alpha, you wanna do something? It’s your pack after all.

Alpha:.....*burrows away*

Jael:I guess I should’ve seen that coming.

H:You named a grimm?

Jael:Sigh, you see.... *knocks his sword through a clone and back at him.* I’m not very popular or social for that matter. *takes a breath and stomps her foot*

*all the grimm around her start to sink into the sand slowly*

H:*knees begin to buckle* What in the....my body, I can’t-

Jael:Move? Almost like there’s some sort of weight keeping you down? *running at him*

Master* writhing in pain* Gravity......she’s messing with gravity. Dust on her sword? *trying to move the box*

H:That...explains a lot.

Jael:Does it really though? *raising her hand*

H:*Rises in the air, his clones disappear* It’s her semblance!?

Jael:Scary right? *jumps above him and axe kicks him into the sand* Considering the punishment you’re able to take and your skills. The “H” is for huntsman? *floats him above the ground* I’m also guessing you have to make a clone on whatever your feet are one. Be glad I don’t just cut off your legs.

C:*shaking as she pulls out a pistol* You crazy bit-Jael’s blade flies by grazing her faces and also drawing a suspicious black blood from her.

Jael:H, M, C. The huntsman is just that, a huntsman. Used for his strength to protect the other two. Master is the kind I can’t seem to figure out, but it looks like he has things in common with you. *points to her* catalyst.....

Catalyst:*starts walking backwards slowly*

Jael:You get grimm unde control and then the Master command then freely because who would listen to a frail thing like you? *walking towards her*

Catalyst:Stay back!!!!

Jael:Or what? You’ve proven to me that those who control grimm severely reduce the aura to basically nothing. I’d start talking if I was you.

Master:Don’t you dare utter a word! Do you hear me!?

Jael:I’ll blind her......

........

Jael:You all heard me. I will blind her if nobody talks. I’d imagine sure that will make the grimm around here pretty restless and angry. Nothing likes being controlled.

Master:.....go right ahead

Catalyst:*flinching at his words* wha...what?

Master:You seem surprised. Your whole purpose is to aid then be discarded. Why would anyone do anything different?

Catalyst:......*drops to her knees*

Jael:........I guess you need friends more than I do. *raises her sword* tough luck.

Catalyst:WAIT! I’ll talk; I’ll do anything! He- *ground collapses beneath both of them*

Jael:*Stabs blade in the wall and hangs there*

Master:*eyes bright red* Oh how the weak break so easily. If you’re not willing to the limit... *finally frees his now deformed hand* then why do anything in life?

Jael:*looking down below*......... what kind of monster does this?

*a horde of dog like grimm maul the cult member below; biting her to the bone*

Master:*looking over the ledge* What else would you expect from the grimm?

Jael:I was talking about you. She fought for you and you killed her in cold blood. *clenching his fist* I’d expect more out of humanity, a team!!! Who are you to decide just how much someone is worth!? What they can *cough* what they can become.....? *cough*

Master:The way you speak makes it sound like you were bluffing about blinding her. Not like it matters now *points at her* try anything and I’ll shoot you point blank.

Jael:Look who’s bluffing now? You need me alive if you want the winter maiden pow-

*bang*

Master:.......

Jael:*aura flickers, a bright red bruise on her forehead forming as blood drips.* o...ow

Huntsman: *falls to the ground* What the hell do you think you’re doing!? You could’ve-

Master:If a maiden was in this type of situation then I would expect her to use magic. Yet here this girl dangles; bleeding and angry. We’ve been played.

Jael:*coughing* Guess the jig is up. Surprised you bought it for song.

Master:To think a kid not only made me kill a subordinate but crushed my hand. *cocks gun* can’t let that slide now can we?

Jael:*Smirks* That’s a good choice of words. Perfect I’d say hehehe....

Master:....what’s so funny? *glaring* you think this is funny!?

Jael:No it’s just you said slide. Like a sand slide....

Master:What?

Jael:My gravity semblance is pretty useful I’d say. It can make things float like your huntsman, or make things extremely heavy like the tackle box. Sometimes though you just need gravity to keep things together; like a sand wall with a sword wedged in it. Too bad all that ends with my aura.

Master:*looks at the sand below him moving*

Jael:I should be angrier about you shooting me in the face but I think I’ll let it slide... *pulls the sword out the wall*

*Sand wall falls apart, washing then both to the bottom of the pit with the grimm*

Master:*coughing up sand* You annoying little- *gasp*

Jael:*standing over him* I was bluffing about about eyes.... *slashes his eyes* but not yours...

Master:......*curls up in pain, jaw clenched shut* you......you insignificant little... *hears growling*

*grimm staring him down*

Jael:Looks like they’re still hungry. Did you know these grimm are known for their canines? That’s why they’re called White Fangs; one of the most hostile grimm around and they’ll attack just about anything. If only you had your catalyst to calm them.

Master:You’re deranged! They’ll attack you too if you don’t do something!

Jael:I’ll be just fine. Wild they may be, they respond to who’s in charge. *pats her leg*

*a hole opens up with Alpha laying in it*

Jael:There you are Alpha! I knew you wouldn’t just leave me. Can you get me out of here? *flicking her head up*

Alpha:*sits on his hind legs*

Jael:Good boy! *balances along the bone along his face*

Alpha:*launches her in the air by flicking his head up like a spring board*

Jael:*grabs a ledge* Thank you, also enjoy your midnight meal. It’s kinda rotten though of you ask me.

*grimm start digging around the walls to fill the hole*

Master:Wait! I’ll tell you anything you want! I can give you power, money, a position with us! Just please don’t-*dragged under the sand*

Jael:*completely ignored all of that* (Alright now I have one more to deal with when I pull myself up. Maybe he’ll just let me leave now that his boss is dead; if not then I’m in for an uphill fight. *grips blade tightly* Oh well, guess there’s no point in wasting time hanging. I’ll just try and catch him by surpri-

“Jael?”

Jael:Huh? *looks up* Auntie Illia?

Illia:*staring down at her with the huntsman’s body over here shoulder* I can’t believe your sister was right to worry. *tosses body into the pit*

Jael:She’s here isn’t she-ahhhh! *yanked up by a chain*

Sienna:*pulling her* How did I know somehow you’d find yourself wrapped up in this!!!!? What do you have to say for yourself?

Jael:Hey sis, how was your first mission?

Sienna:*ear twitches* Try again...

Jael:*cough* Lets not tell mom about this, I love you dearly, and please carry me home. My chest hurts a little and legs feel like jelly.

Sienna:.....Illia?

Illia:Go ahead, I’ll wrap things up here and report what happened. You’re both lucky I find both of you wonderful.

Sienna:What did I do!!!!?

Illia:You didn’t have to do anything. *walking to the airship* Good work today, get some rest. Also I’m telling your father about this when he gets back. *takes off*

Sienna and Jael:.......*slight panic attack* (we’re dead)

Sienna:*staring at Jael* What am I going to do with you?

Jael:You gonna yell at me again? *rubbing her forehead* I sort of have a headache at the moment.

Sienna:Don’t just rub- Ugh you’re hopeless *pulls out a rag and starts cleaning the wound* Why would you touch it when you’re hands are filthy? That’s how infections happen.

Jael:Ow! Hey, don’t be so rough.

Sienna:Don’t get shot in the face and we can avoid all of this. What would’ve happened if you had even a little less aura when it happened?

Jael:*shoulders slouch* Sorry..... I got careless.

Sienna:.....Anything else hurt? How’s your heart?

Jael:Chest is a little tight but I feel fine. I took meds before all this happened; that probably helped. *scanning the knicks and scratches on her sister* what happened to you?

Sienna:What do you mean what happened? I’m the one who dealt with the huntsman. Illia just carried him to the pit for me when she finally caught up. I....sort of jumped out the airship the moment we spotted you. *red*

Jael:You’re so extra......

Sienna:You better be thankful for it! A few more minutes and I might’ve been too late. Take off your kimono, it’s all dirty and has blood on it.

Jael:*doing as she told* I knew it was a good idea to have something under this. How did you know I was out here?

Sienna:I was minding my own business when I heard the worst and loudest sound in my life. Someone going to town on a stupid whistle.

Jael:You actually heard that huh? Didn’t think your ears were that good.

Sienna:*putting Jael on her back* My ears aren’t just for show. They’re just as good, if not better than Blake’s I think. I can’t tell you what has the better hearing between a black panther or a white tiger.

Jael:My money is on our high leader.

Sienna:*stops walking* Hey.....

Jael:I’m just joking sis.

Sienna:Not that, you okay? The intel we got said there was three intruders, but I only got to fight one. So I guess that means you....

Jael:One of them killed the other one. Then I ended up enabling his death so to speak. Guess that means I did sort of kill him though. *voice getting meeker*

Sienna:You, you want to talk about it. That’s pretty heavy stuff.

Jael:Maybe, not really sure, *yawns and leans into her back* don’t feel great about but...not torn up over it. Definitely don’t want to do it again.

Sienna:That’s good to hear. *marches on* can’t have an aspiring huntress wanting to kill for fun. If you need to talk about it, I’m here anytime. Get some rest okay?

Jael:Zzzzzzz

Sienna:*chuckles* Out like a light. Always making me worry, makes me feel like I’m the one with a heart problem.

[Belladonna Residents]

Illia:*barging into Blake’s study* I know you just got back but I have some important in- are you kidding me right now!? *turning pink*

*Blake setting on her desk topless as Sun leans over her about to bite her neck*

Blake:*blushing* Ah! You could’ve knocked!

Sun:*shaggier hair and actually wearing a orange tank top accompanied by a red open buttoned shirt. Just like Jaune he has two wedding rings around his neck, one has a moon while the other a sun* Hey Illia, Blake is back!

[razorblade180]

Lasting Embers pt16: Flowers of the sand

[Atlas military airship]

*tap tap tap tap tap tap tap......*

Illia:*Flying the ship*.............

*tap tap tap ta-*

Illia:Sienna if you don’t sit still right I swear.....

Sienna:*stops tapping her chain on the metal wall* S...sorry ma’am..... *ears fold down, puts her hands in her lap*

Illia:Sigh, thank you. *focuses on the radar*

*creeeeaaaaaakkkkk!*

Sienna:........*fidgeting in her seat*

Illia:Sienna!!!

Sienna:Can you blame me!!!? I’m currently sitting in airship hoping that somehow we’ll make it back home before I find my home up in flames by crazy cult leaders. Who have a head start on us by the way!

Illia:Relax, we’re flying the personal airship of the Schnee family. There’s no aircraft that can fly faster.

Sienna:Yet it’s still gonna take hours to get home. *slouching in her seat*

Illia:Hmph, if I didn’t know any better I’d think that you believe your foster mom couldn’t handle a few lowlives.

Sienna:Just because she’s a maiden doesn’t make her invincible. Besides, odds are she won’t be the only one fighting...

Illia:Jael will be fine; I mean she’s 15 and pretty talented. I’ve seen her keep you on your toes and you’re six years older than her.

Sienna:*mumbles* excuse me for not having a semblance or anything. I’d be amazing too if I could do the things she does.

Illia:*pokes her side* Stop moping, you are amazing too. You are our youngest Sinister Shadow to be recruited after all; also I can I think I’m pretty and I don’t have a semblance.

Sienna:*small smile* Thank you ma’am. It’s just not all cult members are exactly normal. *gestures to her eyes and hands* and they’re in menagerie of places.

Illia:*watching the sunset* We should be there a little after dark and hopefully they’ll be in the desert at the end of dusk. Grimm tend to get more rambunctious at night; I don’t they can control them if this is just some splinter group.

Sienna:That’s a dangerous assumption....

Illia:I know...*biting her lip* we’ll just have to cross our fingers for the time being; and hope if someone encounters them that they know where to stab.

Sienna:Sigh.....*crossing her fingers* hell of a first mission. (Please let it end on a high note)

[Desert Oasis]

*Jael wearing a black kimono with a dark red sash that matches her long hair. An ice box on her left while a fishing pole and tackle box are on her right*

Jacquelyn:Awww I haven’t seen you wear that in awhile. You look lovely.

Jael:*tying her shoes* I got a feeling your opinion might be little biased.

Jacquelyn:Maybe a tiny bit; I guess you’re going into town?

Jael:I gotta return the fishing gear to Deloris. Not to mention *shakes a pill bottle with one capsule rattling inside* refill.....

Jacquelyn:That prescription seemed like it didn’t last as long. You sure you’re okay; maybe we should up the dosage or-

Jael:*standing up* Mom.....I’m fine, honest. I got a little more worked up this month more than usual is all.

Jacquelyn:.....*rubs her child’s slightly pale face, robbed of its usual peach color from the sun* Maybe I should tag along; you know how the grimm out here love digging tunnels.

Jael:Hmph, I think the white fangs and I have finally realized the pecking order around here. I’ll be back before it gets too late.

*walking out the door with the fishing pole and a bucket hat for her horns; ice and tackle box float behind her*

Jacquelyn:If you happen to see Blake then thank for the clothes she gave you.

Jael:I know, I know. Don’t wait up for me. *closes the door*

Jacquelyn:Pfft, like that’s gonna happen. *looks to her left* Oh geez....

*opens the door*

Jacquelyn:Aren’t you forgetting something!?

Jael:*turns around* Hmm? Oh yeah....

Jacquelyn:*Tossing her a katana and sheath similar to her father’s

*both items slow down mid air and float down to her side*

Jael:Thanks mom *bows slightly and continues walking*

Jacquelyn:*shaking her head* (Hopefully she won’t need it, but better safe then sorry)

[Desert, about an hour into the walk]

Jael:*watching the sunset completely* (Beautiful as usual. I wonder if sis is watching right now) *looks down to see the lively sea port as usual*

*festival lanterns and people filling the streets ahead*

Jael:Guess another festival is happening. Wish I could-

*a small sand mound circling around her*

Jael:Ah, I was wondering when you would show up. *grabs a giant catfish from the ice box*

*A dingo like grimm Jumps our the sand. One eye missing and battle scars on the bone platting around it’s face*

Jael:What brings you around here Alpha? Can’t be me; I’m in a good mood for once...

Alpha:*snarling and bearing its fangs*

Jael:Apparently you are not though. Don’t let it be the reason you don’t make it back to your pack though; sit...

Alpha:*sits like a proper dog, yet still snarls*

Jael:*tosses him the fish that promptly gets eaten* your table manners are about the same. *slowly reaches under his chin to rub it*

Alpha:*snarls calm down a little*

Jael:Good boy, now get out of here before someone finds another reason to avoid me.

Alpha: *points his nose back towards the desert, west of her house. Snarls intensify before diving back into the sand*

Jael:.......*looking in that direction* what has you riled up? Maybe I should-

*pill bottle floats in her face*

Jael:Sigh *grabs it* first things first, meds. *continues her walk*

[Faunus Pharmacy]

Jael:*walks in taking off her hat* Deloris I’m here with your stuff. You in here or do I have to talk with your parents? Please don’t let me have to speak to your parents. *walking down an isle* Dory, you in he-

*A young woman with tough pale blue skin and gills on her neck, face down on the counter sleeping. A life gaurd whistle next to her*

Jael:*Walks up shaking her head* And they say sharks don’t sleep.....Dory wake up, you have a customer. *shaking her*

Dory:Zzzzzzz

Jael:Unbelievable......you asked for this. *grabs the whistle.*

*a small purple orb forming near the mouth piece as she takes a deep breath*

Jael:(A one and a two and a-) *a hand covers her mouth immediately* ........

Dory:*raising her head to reveal sleepy gray eyes* Last time you did that I heard ringing for a week. Why night scream like a normal person?

Jael:Have enough energy to work two jobs. *smiles* good to see you as always.

Dory:Of course it is; you look nice by the way. Showing off your curves I see; I thought you’d be wearing- of course....

Jael:*opens the kimono slightly to reveal Blake’s old V1 clothes* What? They’re comfy and form fitting.

Dory:That top is telling a different story. Looks a size too small; you sure you’re part goat and not cow?

Jael:*red* I should hit you in your nose.

Dory:You want your hand that close to my teeth?

Jael:You mean your baby shark teeth that you still have? Yes

Dory:*snorts* Screw you dude. Hmmm? *spotting gossiping customers*

Jael:*turns around to see them flinch a little and promptly leave*........where they staring at me?

Dory:I mean.....yeah probably. Don’t let it get to you.

Jael:Whatever....*puts on her hat again*

Dory:There’s no way they know about, you know *makes horns with her fingers* I mean besides my parents and I, civilians aren’t allowed to know.

Jael:You’re right but when you live apart from everyone and a few higher up don’t like because they know, rumors run rapid. *clenching her sleeve*

Dory:At least you have the Belladonnas, Mr. Wukong and couple others watching over you.

Jael:I don’t care about being watched if no one is going to listen. What I want is....*takes a breath*......it doesn’t matter.

Dory:......So, any reason you’re here? Don’t get wrong it’s nice to see you, but it’s kinda late.

Jael:.....*points to the floating items around her* you’re joking right? Your fishing gear; also I need my pills.

Dory:Shut up I’m half asleep. You think you put the pole back on the wrack like gravity intended to before you started messing with it. *search for pills*

Jael:*putting it away* You’re just jealous that messing with gravity is cooler than breathing underwater.

Dory:Say that when you’re stranded at sea. I have looked through the F section three times now and can’t find your pills.

Jael:*whispering* Taurus......

Dory:Duh...sorry about that. *tosses her a new bottle* I’m surprised you’re already out; everything okay?

Jael:It will be *taking the final pill from the last bottle* now I can probably sprint home if I wanted.

Dory:Let’s not increase your heart rate for no reason okay?

Jael:Eh, if I’m gonna be a huntress then I gotta test me limits right. *walking away* Later, there’s fish for you in the ice box.

Dory:*opens it to see several huge bass* You’re worth your weight in gold Jael.

Jael:You calling me fat? I’m keeping your whistle by the way. *holding it*

Dory:You can keep the tackle box too; dad won’t notice one missing.

Jael:Cool *grabbing it* night Dory...

Dory:You should invite me fishing sometime. I’d love to see your home.

Jael:You’d eat all the fish off the line.

Dory:*watching her walk away* I’d be trying to eat something alright....

Jael:*blushing* Night Dory!!!! *leaves*

Dory:Hehe (she so wants me)

Jael:(I swear, talks about staying calm one minute and tries getting me worked up the next. Maybe she’s the one who needs meds)

*moon completely out*

Jael:Already this dark huh? Guess I should head back. But first.....*walks in the direction the Alpha pointed to* let’s see what got the old fur ball so grumpy.

•

*Three people roaming the desert in gray cloaks the one on the left a slim frame with gloves on his hands marked with an H. The right one marked with an C and has black veins on her arms; while the middle one was blessed with solid frame as black veins crawl up his arm and pulse around his eyes. The letter M on his hood*

H:How much longer are we gonna trudge in the sand!? My feet feel like they’re getting burned to the bone.

C:Stop your bitching and keeping walking. If it was easy to travel in the desert then it would be a poor hiding spot. Besides *snaps his fingers*

*several wild grimm pop out of the sand, including alpha*

M:It’s why we have scouts to take care of the heavy lifting. Find me the maiden... *eyes glow read*

Alpha:*remains still while the others reluctantly move slowly*

C:Did you not hear us you mutts? *eyes and hand glow* he said-

“Yeah they don’t take orders well...”

HCM:*look ahead*

Jael:*standing on a sand dune* They take orders from the Alpha and he only responds to strongest authority around. Well, or fish.

H:...I’m sorry, who the hell are you? *juggling two machetes*

Jael:Well from the looks of it*pats her life*

Alpha:*backing up to her side while the others remain*

Jael:Apparently I’m the strongest one here.

M:Is that so? *folding his arms* very amusing. A young woman in the wilderness alone that’s so strong a grimm dares not risk harming. I can only think of one person who can be that peculiar. Tell me.....are you the winter maiden?

*moonlight illuminating the vast terrain, shifting sands from a calm wind blows constantly*

Jael:.....In the flesh

M:If that’s the case, die........