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eveningstar1516 · 3 years

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Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 4

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so…, Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence.

AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

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Previously:

Not wanting to stay in my head any longer, I drift off into a dreamless slumber awaiting the day that will ultimately decide not only my fate, but the fate of the demons I’ve grown to call, family.

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CHAPTER 4 - I want you to be the one... (1842 words)

Snapping my eyes awake I shivered against the air as a bucket of ice cold water was thrown into my face.

“Get up human!”

A guard then roughly pulled me up by the shoulder twisting my arms behind my back and locking them together while unlocking the chain on my ankle. Pushing me out of my cell and half escorting me half dragging me out of the dungeon and to where my trial was supposed to take place all before I could even register that I woke up. As we were walking toward what I assumed was the very same courtyard where we welcomed the king not 24 hours ago, I started hearing lots of yelling. Straining to hear, I realized that it was the brothers arguing amongst each other about what they should do and Diavolo attempting to calm them down, sounding conflicted himself. Upon entering the courtyard I locked eyes with the brothers as they fell silent in shock upon seeing me bound in chains as I was escorted on stage where the king was waiting with Diavolo and the brothers.

*Flashback*

After I passed out.

“Father! What did you do to them?!”

“I am humouring you my son. They are being held under the palace and I am forbidding any one of you from making contact with them.”

“My Liege, I implore you to please reconsider your judgment. They are unaware of how the politics work here and they simply misspoke. I assure you they don’t mean you any harm.” Lucifer lowered his head pleading to the king to reconsider his choice.

“Lucifer is right! They mean the world to us and they can’t possibly do anything to you or the Devildom!” Mammon joined in. The brothers then each said their piece about you.

“You all disgust me, pleading for a human's life. You are my highest ranking demons. Show some dignity!”

“With all due respect my king, that human you are referring to is the one that bettered your kingdom and has achieved far more than any human, demon, or angel could hope to accomplish in the span of just 1 year. They have brought us all together and mended ties we didn’t even know were broken. Y/N is a human I would give up my Pride for-”

“My Greed for-”

“My Envy for-”

“My Wrath for-”

“My Lust for-”

“My Gluttony for-”

“My Sloth for-”

“My title for-”

“My powers for-”

“Y/N is a one of a kind human. They have found their way into our lives and there is nothing you can do to take that away from us my Liege.”

“That was quite the speech Pride, although that doesn’t change my opinion about them. If anything, it just makes my decision all the more ironclad. But I will humour you all. Seeing as how you’re all willing to give up the very thing that makes you, you for the human, a public trial will be held. Their fate shall be decided there. Until then, I forbid any contact between them, through their pact, dreams, or any interference with the timeline. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my Liege” they all responded simultaneously as the king left the room.

*Later in the east sitting room with Lucifer, Barbatos and Diavolo*

“What are we going to do Dia?” Lucifer exclaimed as he did something he has never done while sober and flopped onto a couch opposite of Diavolo as Barbatos sat into a seat in between them.

Holding his head Diavolo responded.

“I don’t know Luci. I just don’t know. As the crown prince I can’t go against my Father and as my right hand neither can you, but things are different with them involved. I just don’t know.”

Sighing, Diavolo laid down on the couch no longer giving a care about anything, just thinking about different possibilities.

“Barb-?”

“No can do my lord. The king forbade me from using my powers. Even if you were to command me, I don’t have access to them for the time being.”

“Do me a favour Barb and drop the title for now? Please? I need my friends, not my subordinates.”

“Alright, Diavolo. Let me say this then. You both know that no matter what happens tomorrow, Y/N will be banished from the Devildom. We all know that the king isn’t above making us suffer just to prove a point. How are we going to support Y/N and stop them from harming themselves should they be banished to the human realm?”

“Jeez Barb! That isn’t what we need right now! I don’t want to think about that.” Lucifer added the last part with a whisper.

“My brothers are going to be absolutely devastated. Y/N kept them all together, it’s going to be really difficult keeping everyone together with them gone.” “Adding to the list of problems, now that my Father is back, we 3 now serve him. I don’t get to dictate anything until he crowns me, not like before. We will all be swamped with more work as Father will more than likely try to “fix” my improvements to the Devildom.”

The three sat in silence, lost in their minds, endless possibilities and scenarios floating around in their heads. Eventually, Lucifer excused himself under the guise of some unfinished paperwork and returned back to the House of Lamentation.

“Barb?”

“Yes?”

“What have we done?”

“I don’t know my friend. I don’t know.”

*End Flashback*

Walking up the steps towards the stage, I held my head high making eye contact with no one other than my demons as I kept my expression as comforting as possible for them. Poor Asmo and Mammon looked like a dam threatening to burst. Beel wasn’t faring any better holding on to Belphie for comfort. Levi squeezed Mammon's hand discreetly. Satan gave a sad smile. Lucifer stood by Diavolo’s side, each giving you the smallest hint of a smile while Barbatos stood behind Diavolo's left looking like he always did, but after spending so much time with him, you noticed the small sign of sympathy in his eyes. Making my way center stage I was pushed onto my knees in front of the king. I raised my head up high making direct eye contact in defiance. The king then addressed the crowd which I noticed is filled with not only Demons and Sorcerers of different powers but many demons I knew from RAD and called my friends. They looked solemn as I realized that I made an impact on more than just the brothers.

“Denizens of Devildom! Here is a human who has upset the balance of the Devildom…”

I drowned out the rest of his speech not focusing on anything except for my family up on stage. Ignoring the ringing in my head, I reached out with my pacts just enough for them to feel it. I sent them some of my favourite memories over the years and wished Satan a happy birthday before the king declared my sentence. Holding my head high, I locked my gaze onto him.

“The human known as Y/N is hereby banished from the 3 realms, their soul to be returned to oblivion!”

Smirking he turned to face me. Smiling, showing off his fangs he asked,

“I believe that is a suitable sentence, don't you Y/N?”

I ignored him and turned to the demons on stage. I watched as Beel grabbed onto Belphie harder as tears came to both of their eyes. I saw the dam break in both Mammon and Asmo as Levi and Satan both battled their own tears to try and comfort them. I watched as Lu’s face paled and Diavolo squeezed his friend's shoulder a little tighter to try and ground him. Barbatos looked more solemn as his eyes started to water ever so slightly. The king then summoned a sword, turning towards the brothers, then walked until he stood directly in front of Lucifer and Diavolo. Letting go of his friend's shoulder, both Diavolo and Lucifer bowed their heads towards their king. He then shifted to face Lucifer and held out the sword towards him. A look of shock crossed over the brothers' faces as Lucifer looked up to his king in confusion hoping this didn’t mean what he thought it meant as he slowly accepted the sword.

“Lucifer, Cardinal Sin of Pride. You will be the one to deliver the blow.”

The colour fully drained from his face as the king stepped to the side to allow Lucifer to step up. Slowly with a trembling breath, Lucifer approached you with pleading eyes silently praying that this was some sick nightmare. His brothers looked on in horror, shock freezing them in place. Stopping in front of you, he took one look at you, turned to the king and lowered the sword.

“No… I won’t.”

“Pardon me?”

“I said NO! I will not kill Y/N!”

“Yes, you will.”

The king's eyes started glowing as an aura surrounded Lucifer. His brothers broke out of their trance and tried to reach towards you to hold back their brother from killing you against their wishes. Diavolo and Barbatos stood in shock as the scene unfolded.

“Hear me, denizens of the darkness.” Everyone onstage immediately stopped in their tracks and looked my way.

“Hear me denizens of the darkness. You who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it.” Upon starting the incantation, a magic circle appeared beneath me and Lucifer; my shackles started glowing. An intense pain shot through my skull. Pushing past the pain I continued.

“HEAR ME AND DO AS I COMMAND!” The shackles around my wrists broke under my power and I stood up facing the brothers. The king tried to move towards me but the circle by my feet prevented him from getting close.

“I Y/N order the 7 sins not to interfere with this trial. You are not to make a move against the king after the completion of the trial. You 7 are to remain loyal to Lord Diavolo and continue serving him as his word now outranks the kings!” Ignoring the pleading looks on the brothers' faces, I turned to Lucifer.

“Lucifer, Avatar of the Cardinal Sin of Pride, you are to follow through with your king's command and execute me as is due with your sword. You are to remain loyal to Lord Diavolo above the crown. You are to continue watching over your brothers and are not allowed to fight me on this decision.” Cupping Lucifer's cheek I whispered into his ear, “I want you to be the one Lu.” Stepping back I finished my order. “Now kill me!” Kneeling before Lucifer I looked up with a smile on my face watching as unshed tears began pooling in his eyes as he summoned his sword.

“LUCIFER! NO!”

“LUCIFER! PLEASE NO!”

“Y/N!”

Lucifer looked into my eyes muttering something in angelic before whispering, “I’m sorry…”

With tears burning his eyes he buried the sword deep into my heart.

“Thank you”

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lokidrabbles · 4 years

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Pleasant Feels (Loki x Reader)

Loki walks reader home and discovers his deep liking for them

A/N: Next part for my Loki x Reader Winter Series! Gender Neutral Reader!

Warnings: None! Fluff towards the end!

“Walk me home?”

Your words continued to replay in Loki’s head. The simplicity of your request caught him off guard and it made him briefly reflect on how often he was unaccustomed to being treated like this. While his brother’s companions were working their way towards being ‘fine’ having him around as a team member, their disdainful looks would say more than their words. And sure, you were a bit withdrawn towards him the first couple of weeks, but maybe this was a sign of...trust?

“Perhaps you would feel more confident if you were to ask your other companions.” Loki replied, sounding colder than he intended to. The underlying truth remained with the notion of his uneasiness with humans, especially with the ones he’s wronged in the past. He didn’t want to be placed in a situation where someone felt forced to ‘get along’ with him, and he didn’t want you to feel obliged to interact in any way.

He had sunk very low, he thought.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” You said, furrowing your brows. “But if I am honest, I’m not too confident about walking home by myself at this time at night, even if I only live a couple of streets down.”

“Again, you’d feel safer if you asked someone else.” Loki still was unable to ride along the wave, the opportunity open for him to provide help. It was bizarre, and he wasn’t ready for it.

“So you’re really going to just let me go out there by myself, in the dark, in the dead of winter.” You retorted mockingly.

He didn’t say anything, avoiding eye contact with you if possible.

You shrugged. “I asked for a reason you know. I suppose I’ll have to walk my merry self back home, I sure hope I don’t get mugged or stabbed along the way.”

A certain word rang in Loki’s ears as your childishly skipped out of the building, peeking behind you to make sure he would just feel as guilty as you had intended to do so. He was dumbfounded at how you could casually throw the possibility of being hurt because of his own selfish reasons, and cursed at himself the moment his legs began to sprint towards you.

“Thought so.” You chuckled to yourself, watching Loki catch up with you at the front of your building. He glared daggers at you and you grinned knowing damn well what you had done.

“Don’t say anything.” He said threateningly, his breath visible in the cold air. “I am not going to carry the blame with Stark if something were to happen to you.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it!” You exclaimed, clasping your hands together. “I know it’s stupid but I do get really paranoid down these streets at night.”

He briefly pictured you by yourself, probably scared and shaking, vulnerable to any attack from questionable individuals. You worked with Stark but you had no battle prowess, or any means to protect yourself. Again, he wondered why you didn’t request any assistance from your boss instead.

“Why not ask Stark to provide you with one of his guards to send you home?”

You rolled your eyes. “For crying out loud, because I wanted you to walk me home Loki.”

“I beg your pardon?”

You chuckled yet again, unable to control your smile from forming at Loki’s unhinged face.

“Because my dude, you’re extremely intimidating. And no one’s gonna mess with me if you’re by my side.”

“You cannot be serious.” He replied. This is what he was reduced to. A scarecrow to ward off any ill intending individuals. While the notion of being intimidating tickled him good, this wasn’t what he exactly had in mind. Actually, he wondered how he wanted to present himself to you. You were certainly nice, so the implication of this would suggest you had another way of viewing him.

“I am serious.” You said, beginning to walk and Loki justly following. “You do all that cool magic stuff, summon your pointy things, it’s pretty threatening.”

“Pointy things.” He began to process the words, uncovering what the hell you exactly meant. “Wait...you mean my daggers?”

“Yeah! Those things!”

Norns. “As much as I resent my abilities being referred to as ‘cool magic’, I try not to display them out in the open as often. So don’t get your hopes up.”

“That’s a bummer.” You replied. “It’s always fun seeing you do that. I always try to get a view of when you’re doing it.”

A naturally silent man, Loki remained quiet, hands shoved into his coat pockets. His mind continued to make sense of your words to him. Again, your implication of his seidr suggested your observation of him while at the facility. In the broader sense, you had noticed him, and had watched him from afar, awed at his abilities. He knew you lingered a bit while he was there on occasion with his brother, but he swore it was solely because of Thor. His brother’s cockiness, while laughable, was backed by facts. The people of Earth loved him, and there would always be an admirer or two lurking around the corner for him.

He pondered if you had lurked around the corner to peek at him instead. The idea was charming.

“Sorry if that made a little uncomfortable.” You said, breaking him out of his trance. He sensed some guilt in your voice.

“No, that’s alright.” He said lowly. “I forget humans are naturally attracted to abilities like this. I didn’t take you for one of them.”

Loki didn’t notice the tinge of red forming on your cheeks. “I really liked that one thing you did a couple of weeks ago when you were talking with Thor. You waved your fingers kinda like this, ” You mimicked him, wiggling your fingers over the palm of your other hand. “ And this really pretty blade appeared in your grip. That must come in handy, huh.”

He had conjured a dagger during an argument he had with Thor, to which Thor had promptly told him to put it away before someone got the wrong idea. Apparently him and his brother weren’t the only ones present in that area.

“How often do you observe me human?” He asked boldly. Your quick movement of cupping your hands in towards your chest said it all.

“Sorry, that’s really rude of me.” You said dejectedly, focusing on the ground below.

“Observation is a natural tendency for many individuals, myself included.” He mentioned, his voice smooth and calm. “Though my curiosity begs to know why you have eyes for me.”

You laughed nervously. “Can you read my mind or something?”

“I could. But it’s more satisfying when you have the other admit to it.”

The air had suddenly felt colder, and the both of you fell quiet again, with only the sound of footsteps echoing the streets. Something lingered on Loki’s tongue, curious to see how you would react with him admitting he had developed a liking to you during these past months as well. You kept to yourself but you weren’t fully reserved like he was, making you fairly unnoticeable for a while. However, once you had spoken and demonstrated your inventiveness and mental sharpness, his attention quickly caught. You were welcoming when he was around, and you didn’t seem to make efforts to excuse yourself out of the room he was occupying. He found it foolish that a small tinge of kindness would bring him this far deep with a human.

A wet droplet of ice landed on your cheek, prompting you to stop and look upwards. Your mouth soon began agape and you reached out to halt and shake Loki’s arm.

“It’s snowing again.” You pointed out. Loki looked up along with you, catching sight of the white dust soon forming around the both of you. The snowflakes fell heavy, prickling coldness upon your already red face and cheeks. Your breath was visible in the air, excited at the spectacle.

“Are you...cold?” Loki asked, not sure what to do.

“No! But I do love this type of scenery.” You replied, continuing to gaze upwards welcoming any drops of ice to land on your skin.

The snowflakes continued to float around the air, not necessarily catching Loki’s interest. He followed some of them mindlessly, and then caught up them landing on you. You had appeared like a child with a toothy smile plastered on your face. Your eyes darted between flakes and shone brightly against the city lights. Your cheeks were reddened from the cold, a certain glow coming from around you.

He thought you looked stunning, as if you had fallen in love with the snow.

You quickly caught his fixed look at you and brought yourself back to the present. “I look stupid huh?”

He laughed quietly. “Not at all. You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes widened in horror and the smile quickly dropped. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. I am not repeating myself.” He said, a much smug smirk appearing on his face. “And no one will ever believe you.”

You scowled at him, absolutely upset at his arrogance. “That’s a little messed up don’t you think?”

“I am the God of Mischief and Chaos my dear, it is what I do.”

This was the first time Loki had used his moniker ever since New Asgard had formed over a year ago. His title, holding much importance and sentiment to him, was reserved after its long implications of dominance and control during the past decade. For a while, he had long forgotten the meaning of it, or what it suggested about his nature. For a long time it meant destruction and absolute chaos, leaving a desolate trail of death and disappointment, something he had wanted to keep buried for years and years to come.

Now, after almost losing everything, he had used it on you, as a means to make you laugh.

After walking along a couple of more streets, you both arrived at your building, the snow continuing to glide along the soft wind.

“Thanks again Loki, I really do mean that.” You began, fiddling around for your keys.

He nodded, still fixated on your face and your expression. “Anytime.”

He noticed the hesitation in your hands, almost as if they wanted to reach out to him. As a master of observation, your body language had told him everything about what you intended to do. You bit your lips and your legs wobbled slightly. Your eyes would flutter up at him, but then immediately look down in shame. Again, very charming for a human. At the same time, quite impulsive.

Needing to tip toe, you reached up towards Loki and planted a quick, meek kiss on his own thin lips. It was instant, and you lips brushed away too quickly for him to experience the feel of your skin on his own cold one. A jumble of words escaped your mouth and you quickly made your way inside your home, leaving Loki out in the cold. He traced his lips with his fingers, feeling a soft smile form slowly. He began to wonder if it wasn’t too much of a bad idea to continue teasing you as such.

#loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #Loki Laufeyson #loki of asgard #loki drabbles #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #loki (mcu)

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not-majestic-bluenicorn · 3 years

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Crescent || Chapter 13

Fandom(s): ATEEZ

AU: Treasure Hunters

Genre: Action, Fantasy, Sci-Fi

Relationship: Everyone x Everyone, Established Hongjoong x Yunho

Language: English

Status: Ongoing

Chapter WC: 5,954 words

Warnings: Character Death, Stabbing, Fighting, Blood, Aliens, War, Funerals, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, Mentions of Child Abuse / Child Work, Explosions, Murder Attempt, Robbery, Homeless/Runaway Character, Torture, Mentions of Slavery more will be added.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of slavery, Mentions of Child Abuse / Child Work.

Summary:

AO3

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Tagged: @angel0taiyo

Early the next day, Hongjoong called in the most important members of the crew for a meeting. They needed to discuss how they would proceed after the deviation they had taken to save Seonghwa and the rest from the slave traders. Everyone met with him in his quarters, where Yeosang and San were working on the map while they had the meeting.

At first it had been difficult for them to work together, because they had completely different methods. However, once they had learned to work around their differences, they had actually sped up the work and were becoming more and more successful at deciphering the codes ingrained in the map. They had become such a good team that they basically didn't need Hongjoong, but he was still there to offer his help.

"Our expenses are getting a bit out of hand," said Siyeon once the meeting had started and the formalities had been left aside. "It's taking too long to find this treasure."

"I know, personally I also believe it's taken more than I would like it to," Hongjoong sighed. He turned to look at San and Yeosang, and caught them just as they turned back to their work. "Yeosang and San are working very hard in deciphering the map though, and we've made an amazing progress compared to when we first started out."

"I think we'll be better off once we drop everyone off so they can go to their home planets," Yunho intervened, also looking at Yeosang and San. "Naturally it costs a lot to maintain a crew that has doubled in size, but I believe that once we go back to normal, we'll be okay."

"That is a good point," Siyeon accepted. "I'm worried about the fuel though, we consumed a lot of it during the rescue."

"True, while the warp speed helped with the surprise attack and with our escape, it consumes a lot of fuel," Hwanwoong agreed.

"I have word from one of our crew members that we should be able to get more fuel at a better price, I'll talk to them." Hongjoong grinned, already thinking of the first mission he would give to Seonghwa.

As the leaders discussed how they would manage the situation they were in, Yeosang and San worked on the map. Yeosang kind of liked San. He was serious and hard working, and he made Yeosang feel important when they worked together because he was a good listener. But for all he had tried for them to become friends, he wasn't so sure San liked him back. San was quiet and serious, and according to everyone he was always working on the map with Hongjoong, so they rarely ever saw him.

Despite the fact that they were working, Yeosang found it hard to concentrate. He kept listening in to the meeting and looking over at Hongjoong, almost like he was in a trance. Yeosang was kind of Hongjoong's fan. He admired him for his fighting and leadership skills, and also for his kind heart that was always ready for rescuing others. He respected Hongjoong for having saved him and given him a second chance. Yeosang just couldn't stop looking at him.

San noticed this, not only because he was observant, but because he too had caught himself looking at Hongjoong more than once. It was annoying, the way he felt like he was losing control of himself and he couldn't quite understand why. So he forced himself to look at Yeosang instead, which turned out to not be difficult at all. Yeosang was quiet, the bottom of his pen pressed to his lips as his eyes were fixed on Hongjoong.

There were all sorts of things in his eyes, San knew them all too well, since he had used those feelings to his advantage in previous missions. There was admiration and respect in his eyes, but there was also something far more profound. San decided it was yearning. Yeosang yearned for Hongjoong in such an obvious way that it was almost painful to watch. And nonetheless San understood, and wondered if he looked at Hongjoong in a similar way. He hoped not.

He looked back at the discussion group, and his eyes met with Yunho. The First Mate was looking at him with such intensity that, for the first time in his life, San felt vulnerable. He immediately looked away, hoping that Yunho hadn't noticed his reaction. San wondered if Yunho had noticed the way Yeosang looked at Hongjoong. He probably had, because Yunho was observant and protective about Hongjoong, but he wondered if he cared.

San didn't want to admit it, but he had not only come to care about Hongjoong, but also about what he represented. He cared about the ship, and the crew, and with each passing day he put more sincerity in his job of deciphering the map. He worried about conflict arising between Yunho and Yeosang if the first one got jealous over Hongjoong. It was so stupid how his worries had become almost petty when compared to the fact that he had joined the crew to kill the Captain.

Sighing, he went back to his work, there was nothing else to do. He felt Yeosang turn to look at him, felt the worry oozing from him as he wondered if he should ask San about what was on his mind. San hoped he didn't ask, because he would want to tell him. He would want to get all the confusion out of his chest, to just scream it out. And that wasn't what he had been taught to do. Emotions and feelings were a stone that dragged you down until you drowned.

"Do you want to take a break?" Yeosang asked instead. San raised his head to look at him and then looked at the meeting going on. He nodded, and both of them left the main quarters.

Once the meeting was over, Hongjoong and Yunho were left alone in the main quarters. Hongjoong busied himself ordering some of the materials San and Yeosang had left behind, to make sure nothing would be lost in the mess of their provisional meeting room. Yunho stood still in his place, arms crossed over his chest and observing Hongjoong critically.

"You know, San and Yeosang wouldn't stop looking at you," Yunho commented. "Especially Yeosang, I think he has something going on for you."

Hongjoong stopped in his tracks and just stared at the table where Yeosang and San had been working. He sighed and turned around. Yunho had been very insistent about this matter for a while now, and it was starting to mess with Hongjoong's head. There was nothing going on between Hongjoong and anyone in the crew, and Yunho knew it.

"Why do you insist so much with that topic?" Hongjoong muttered.

"Because I think you might have a thing for some of them too," Yunho pointed out calmly.

"I don't." Hongjoong said, marking each word.

"Why do you deny it so much?" Yunho put his arms down. "You know I don't mind, why won't you let yourself explore your feelings?"

"Because, Yunho," Hongjoong took a deep breath, "the Hongjoong they know isn't real. We're lying to them, remember? They don't know who I truly am.They can't like someone they don't know."

"Your title doesn't define everything you are Hongjoong," Yunho insisted. "You're more than that, despite what your father has made you think. You've shown them your authentic self, your last name means nothing."

"I'm here to find a treasure and get revenge on my brother's death," Hongjoong was quick to say, his tone was final, "not to collect boyfriends."

"Then make it less obvious, don't give them so much attention," Yunho muttered.

"Who even is 'them'?" Hongjoong asked, a little exasperated.

"San, Yeosang, Mingi, Jongho," Yunho listed, lifting his fingers one by one. "They are the only crew members you spend time with aside from me, Hwanwoong and Siyeon."

"That is-" He wanted to say it wasn't true, but thinking back to it, it kind of was. "Look, let's stop talking about this, okay? It really doesn't matter because at the end of the day we're going back to the castle and back to the war."

"Okay, fine," Yunho gave in, sighing. "Just don't be too hard on yourself, okay?"

"Sure," Hongjoong nodded, glad that the talk was over. "Now I need to go find Yeosang and San so we can get back to work, we're so close to finding the treasure."

"I'll go with you."

San and Yeosang were just taking a breath of fresh air in silence when Mingi made his way to them. He looked a little wary of San, who did his best to not look intimidating, but only managed to make Yeosang laugh at his awkwardness. Mingi, still a little afraid, looking at both of them in confusion.

"He's not scary Mingi, I promise, he's actually very nice." Yeosang said with a smile, passing an arm around San's shoulders. "He's just really bad at being a normal human being."

"Are you trying to help me or to insult me?" San muttered, glaring at Yeosang.

"Hmm, whatever makes you feel better." Yeosang smiled. "Did you need something Mingi?"

"Well, actually..." Mingi began, but he couldn't get the words out of his mouth. He was nervous. His heart was making a mess of his pulse and his cheeks were suddenly turning very much red. He tried to speak but stuttered, and Yeosang smiled at him, endeared.

"You can tell me another time, if you want?" Yeosang kind of knew what Mingi wanted to say, because he was very transparent, but he didn’t want to force it out of him.

"No! I-" Mingi tries again, but the fact that San and Yeosang's eyes are focused on him doesn't help.

"Is something wrong?" A familiar voice asked from behind him and made Mingi yelp, surprised by Jongho's sudden appearance. "You seem to be on edge Mingi, is everything alright?"

Mingi liked that Jongho was worried about him. What he did not like though, was how his presence actually made him feel even more nervous and out of control. If Jongho's intention was to help him, he was doing the complete opposite. Mingi was trying so hard to calm down, but now there were three sets of eyes fixed on him, two of them belonging to people he liked. He was not having a good time.

"Oh, Seonghwa!" Jongho exclaimed suddenly, as he spotted someone walking at the other side of the deck. "Come here!" Jongho called over. Seonghwa looked a little wary at first before he recognized Jongho, and gladly walked up to them.

"Wait, Seonghwa?" Mingi's eyes widened, and he immediately took a step forward and grabbed Seonghwa by the arm. "You're Seonghwa?"

Seonghwa looked at him with wide eyes, confused and a little taken aback. Mingi didn't see the way Yeosang tensed up behind him, or how San looked at Yeosang in mild understanding, or how Jongho looked a little disappointed. All he could see was Seonghwa, the person that had worried Wooyoung so much. One of the eight, along with Hongjoong and possibly Yeosang.

"I- Yes, that would be me?" Seonghwa asked, looking towards Jongho for a little help.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" He leaned in closer to whisper to him so the others couldn't hear. "Wooyoung was asking for you last night."

Seonghwa stepped back and looked at him in surprise. He looked at Jongho as well, who could almost guess what Mingi had told him, and Jongho nodded at him. Seonghwa smiled brightly at Mingi, but before he could do anything like ask him his name, Yeosang stepped right in the middle, staring Seonghwa down.

"Uh, excuse me?" Seonghwa asked, a little confused.

"I should be asking that," Yeosang muttered. He didn't know why, but he immediately didn't like this Seonghwa guy. "Who are you? Why are you so close to my friend?"

"I'm your new crew member," Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. "I was not expecting this welcome, with how polite the Captain is. I guess he can't represent all of you, huh?"

"Uhm, guys..." Mingi muttered softly. He didn't understand what was going on, but he didn't like it. Jongho looked just as confused.

"Well, he certainly doesn't represent your kind either," Yeosang bit back, "our Captain is way more humble."

"Look, you little-" Seonghwa began, but he was interrupted by Hongjoong, who was walking towards them while calling their names.

"Glad to see you're all together and getting along!" Hongjoong said, smiling widely, ignorant to the fact that they had been seconds away from jumping at each other’s throats. "Yeosang, San, we need to get back to work."

"Yes sir," they said in unison. Yeosang glared at Seonghwa once before San pulled him away towards the main quarters.

"Seonghwa, I would like to talk to you later today, put your skills to use," Hongjoong commented before patting the man on the back. "See me later in my quarters, please."

"Of course, Captain," Seonghwa nodded. Hongjoong marched away with Yeosang and San, and Seonghwa sighed. "I better go back to my exercises, the nurse said they would help me recover faster. If you'll excuse me." He gave a slight bow to both Jongho and Yunho, and then left.

"I better go see if someone needs help with their tasks, since I already finished with the ship maintenance," Jongho was quick to excuse himself, but he didn't get to leave before Yunho stopped him.

"Jongho, wait," Yunho said. "Can we talk for a minute?" Jongho looked at him, a bit confused, but nodded nonetheless.

Yunho took him to the forecastle deck, which was currently empty. They leaned against the rail, silent for a moment while Yunho tried to put together what he wanted to say. It wasn't easy talking about his past, but he could still remember what Hongjoong had told him about Jongho, and he wanted to offer his help, his support. He finally sighed and looked at Jongho, giving him a smile.

"Hongjoong told me a little bit about your past," Yunho said, trying to hold Jongho's gaze, but the other looked away instead.

"How much did he tell you?" Jongho asked, feeling a little uncomfortable about Yunho knowing about it.

"Not much, I promise," Yunho sighed. "He just mentioned that you had negative memories related to child work... And I just wanted to say that if you ever need someone to lean on, I'm here for you."

"I appreciate that," Jongho muttered, "but why? We haven't really talked much before?"

"Well, I went through a similar situation when I was a kid," Yunho looked down at his hands, feeling Jongho's eyes turn to him. "I was captured by slave traders and forced to work on the ship as a Powder Monkey; I thought I wouldn't last much if I'm honest."

"Then how are you...?" Jongho didn't want to finish the question. He realized it just was too rude, too inappropriate.

"Alive? Here?" Yunho completed it for him, and then smiled. "Don't be afraid of being crude with me, I can handle it."

Jongho nodded, but didn't really say anything. He couldn't help but feel curious, and wanted to know more about Yunho's story, but he didn't want to rush him or pressure him into telling him more. Yunho seemed like he wanted to speak about it, but he was having a hard time forming the words.

"Well, I've only made it this far thanks to Hongjoong, to be honest," Yunho shrugged, trying to look unaffected.

"You two are dating, right?" Jongho asked. He hadn't wanted to intrude before, but Hongjoong and Yunho had always seemed particularly close, and he couldn't help but feel curious.

"Yeah, pretty much," Yunho nodded. "We've been dating for quite a few years now."

"And how did he help you, back then?" Jongho decided to ask finally, trying to help Yunho get the words out.

"Well, I told you I was forced to work as a powder monkey right?" Yunho confirmed, and Jongho nodded. "There were a few other kids with me, and we were treated really poorly. The royal guard of the Kim Empire detained the ship and rescued us, Hongjoong's family was one of the families that were offering their homes for the kidnapped kids."

"Oh," Jongho's mouth opened in surprise, he hadn't expected that. "They took you in?"

"Yes, I was ten back then and he was already eleven," Yunho smiled. "We clicked instantly, actually, he was the one to 'choose me', when they were finding us a home."

"That's kinda cute," Jongho chuckled. "I can't really picture it, but it sounds nice."

"We became best friends and later on we began dating, and now we're here," Yunho shrugged. "His support has helped me overcome everything that happened when I was on the ship. It's not perfect, but it's better." Yunho looked at Jongho again. Jongho was looking at him, smiling, looking more comfortable and relaxed. "So I want to be there for you, as well."

"Thank you Yunho," Jongho smiled.

"No need to thank me," Yunho smiled. "We're part of Hongjoong's crew, we're basically family now."

The day passed and everyone was relieved of their duties as it was time to head to sleep. Yeosang dragged San with him so he would join him at the dinner table with Jongho and Mingi. He had really taken a liking to San, who had become more relaxed around him and talked more than he did before; and now that he knew he wasn't actually scary, he wanted the others to notice too.

San didn't think the same way as Yeosang. Naturally, Yeosang probably didn't have any ulterior motives, so he didn't have to worry about making friends with people that would potentially become his enemies. He wasn't planning on killing Hongjoong anymore, he had come to accept he couldn't do it, but that didn't mean the others wouldn't try to kill him the moment they knew who he was.

Mingi and Jongho were just a little uncomfortable, still unsure about San's presence. Yeosang just smiled at them and San bowed his head slightly as a way of greeting. All of them felt awkward except Yeosang, but he pretended like it was all fine and guided the conversation, trying to make them feel a little more comfortable. And little by little, it worked.

"We haven't really talked about it, how did your side of the rescue go?" Jongho asked, looking at Yeosang and Mingi first, and then at San.

"It went great, Mingi was so cool!" Yeosang exclaimed, a big smile plastered on his face. "He was a bit nervous at first, but you should've seen him installing the bomb." Yeosang smiled suggestively towards Mingi, who turned beet red and just stared at his food in silence.

"I bet he looked really cool," Jongho chuckled. "I had to beat up a dude to save Seonghwa, but other than that I'd say it went pretty well."

Yeosang's expression immediately turned sour when Jongho mentioned Seonghwa, and all of them noticed. San looked at Mingi and Jongho first, who were sitting opposite to him, and then at Yeosang, who was sitting by his side. They had all noticed the tension that had flourished between the two men before, but they had no clue as to why it was there in the first place. San decided it would be best to just change topics.

"I was in the front line, along with Captain Hongjoong and Yunho," San commented, deviating the attention to him.

"No surprise there!" Yeosang commented, glad that the topic had changed. "You're an amazing fighter, I noticed it when you first captured me." San looked sheepish for a moment. He hadn't liked Yeosang much at first, but he was the only one other than Hongjoong and Yunho who treated him normally, so he had come to like him even if just a little bit.

"Sorry about that..." San muttered. "But yes, my father worked in the military and he trained me for a long time before I became a researcher." Those were all lies, but only he knew that.

"What did it feel like to fight alongside Captain Hongjoong and Yunho?" Mingi asked, finally recovering from his previous embarrassment. "I glanced at them when we were going in, and it looked really cool."

"Honestly they're a scary pair, I wouldn't like to go against them," San replied honestly.

He had observed them fight during the rescue and they were unstoppable when together. They had very different styles though. Hongjoong was like an unpredictable storm, striking anywhere he saw fit and almost impossible to stop. Yunho was more calm and calculating, always knowing where to hit his enemy, which made him an elegant fighter. But the most impressive part was how aware they were of their surroundings.

They always knew where the other was and were ready to jump in front of a blade for the other, but they also paid attention to the rest of their crew and came to their aid if it was necessary. Just like how Hongjoong had saved him. San found himself telling them as much, unable to hide a certain spark of excitement as he retold what had happened during the battle. He of course left behind the part where he had had a revelation about his feelings.

"That is amazing..." Mingi breathed out, food forgotten on his plate. Jongho and Yeosang nodded next to him.

"I'm so glad Captain Hongjoong decided to take pity on me..." Yeosang muttered. "Yunho was scary when he was interrogating me back when I tried to steal from this ship."

"Hope you've learned your lesson," San said with a slightly mocking grin, and Yeosang punched his shoulder slightly, making him laugh. Mingi and Jongho both stared at him in disbelief, and when San noticed, he looked at them with confusion. "What?"

"You laughed," Mingi gasped.

"I'm human, of course I laughed!" San exclaimed, in disbelief. "I know I'm terrible at socializing but that's a bit too much." He complained.

"Sorry, sorry," Mingi smiled apologetically. "I'm honestly glad you're talking to us now, you're pretty nice."

"I agree, I feel a bit sorry for misjudging you before," Jongho nodded. "Not that you really knew about it, but still."

"Thanks, I guess?" San was a bit confused about their reactions, and also a bit conflicted. He didn't want them to like him, but he was also starting to wish he could belong in this ship like the others did.

"This is not related to what we were talking just now but..." Mingi began, thinking his words carefully, "when I went to tell Hongjoong about the slave ship, he and Yunho..." He ended up trailing off, not able to continue talking, as he remembered how Yunho had been sleeping shirtless next to the Captain.

"They're dating," Jongho and San confirmed in unison, looking at each other in surprise.

"They are?!" Mingi and Yeosang both exclaimed at the same time, equally shocked by the news.

"You hadn't noticed?" Jongho asked them, raising an eyebrow. It was disgustingly obvious that the two were an item.

"Well, I was suspicious but I didn't really want to assume..." Yeosang muttered, and Mingi nodded in agreement.

"You should have known better when we saw them sleeping on the same bed, with Yunho half naked," Jongho shook his head at Mingi, truly not believing that his friend hadn't thought of it.

"You what?!" Yeosang yelled again, and San was quick to shush him so he would stop screaming and making everyone around them uncomfortable. "Sorry..."

"That's what I was trying to say earlier, but it's embarrassing..." Mingi muttered.

"You get embarrassed too easily," Jongho chuckled.

"Sorry..." Mingi apologized, looking at his food instead.

"No, it's cute, don't worry about it," Jongho looked at Mingi and Mingi looked back.

San and Yeosang looked at them before looking at each other, clearly noticing that something was going on between the two of them. San then looked at Yeosang, because if his suspicion was right, Yeosang liked Mingi, which was why he had acted like that in front of Seonghwa. However, Yeosang was smiling this time, and didn't look even remotely as jealous as he had with Seonghwa. Maybe San was wrong about his theory.

"How did you know about the slave trading ship, by the way?" San decided to ask to change the topic.

"Uhm..." Mingi hesitated, looking at Jongho for help. "I dreamed about it?"

"That's... interesting," San nodded, but decided not to question Mingi more about it, as it seemed to be making him nervous.

San instantly remembered Wooyoung's visit to his dreams. Of course, that was the only explanation. He had said he was visiting Mingi, Hongjoong and Yeosang as well, and had mentioned Yunho and Jongho as well. He had said that they were supposed to fall in love. San dropped his fork and motioned to stand up. He could feel his own face turning red with embarrassment as he remembered Wooyoung's words and the realization he had felt with Hongjoong. It wasn't right.

"San?" Yeosang asked, looking at him with worry, but San refused to meet eyes with him.

"Sorry, I don't feel too well, I think I'm gonna retire for the night." He explained quickly, picking up his plate and putting it away before leaving the dining hall.

The three of them stared at San as he left. Yeosang made a movement to follow him, but Jongho stopped him right on his tracks and shook his head. Yeosang looked once more to where San had disappeared and sighed, knowing Jongho was right. If San needed time alone then it was best if they gave it to him.

Shortly after they were done with dinner, they went to the deck to walk a little. Eventually, Mingi became too tired and decided to turn in for the night, wishing Yeosang and Jongho a good night and leaving them by themselves. Both of them continued to lap around the deck until they eventually stopped and just leaned next to the border, admiring the emptiness of the space surrounding them.

"Can I ask you something and you try to not get too angry?" Jongho asked. His tone was playful as he was half-joking, but he still hoped Yeosang wouldn't be mad at his question.

"What is it?" Yeosang turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

"Why did you get so angry at Seonghwa before? When I called him over to ask how he was," Jongho looked back at him in time to see Yeosang frown before he turned away.

"I just don't like him very much," Yeosang muttered. "He seems to think very high of himself, or something, and I don't like people like that," he exclaimed.

"I see," Jongho hummed, thinking his answer over, "he does seem to move differently to us."

"Probably not a good enough reason to dislike him, I guess, but I'm a bit impulsive," Yeosang shrugged.

They stayed in silence for another while, both of them just looking out into space. Jongho had worked with ships all of his life, but he had never really been out of orbit for such a long time. It was different to being locked in a workshop, working without rest. That experience had been scary, and he had thought it would never end; but the vastness of the galaxy was a different sort of scary, almost like it was trying to drown him out.

Yeosang on the other hand, had spent a lot of time in traveling ships, accompanying his father at his job when he was a child. He was used to this vastness, to not seeing anything for miles at a time. He was used to not knowing what time it was. To him it had been more scary to think he would never be able to leave his planet again, that he would be trapped inside its limited frame.

Jongho and Yeosang were widely different, and yet something had put them inside that ship. And Jongho was certain they had something in common that neither had expected. He sighed, because he was tired of beating around the bush. The only way to clear his doubts was to ask him about it.

"Are you sure you don't hate Seonghwa because of how he approached Mingi?" Jongho asked again. He put his hands together and did everything to avoid looking at Yeosang, who he could feel staring.

"You're probably right," Yeosang said after a moment of considering his answer.

"So... do you like Mingi too?" Jongho asked, a bit hesitant, not wanting to overstep some sort of invisible boundary. Yeosang let out a deep breath.

"Yeah, a little..." He admitted, feeling himself blush as he looked away.

"Right," Jongho nodded. However, Yeosang's answer only filled him with more questions. "Then... Do you hate me too?"

"What?" Yeosang turned to look at him abruptly. "No! Why would I?"

"Because I like Mingi too," Jongho muttered, blushing as well, but he was still looking at Yeosang.

"I know that, but why would that make me hate you?" Yeosang asked, genuinely confused.

"That is such a double standard..." Jongho muttered, chuckling slightly because of Yeosang's expression. "You don't like Seonghwa who got close to Mingi once but you don't mind me when I just told you I like Mingi?"

"Would you prefer I don't like you?" Yeosang raised an eyebrow, but somehow his expression only made Jongho laugh more. "Besides, you were here before me... I actually thought you and Mingi were dating from how close you were. If anything, you should be mad at me."

Jongho stopped laughing and looking at Yeosang with a smile. He didn't know why he found it so funny, but he did. He wasn't even a bit mad about Yeosang liking Mingi, it was not like he owned Mingi (or like he could own him to begin with). He was also not in charge of Yeosang's feelings, so why would he be mad for someone else liking Mingi when, in reality, it was quite understandable.

"We're not dating, and if you couldn't tell, I'm not mad at you," Jongho shrugged. "That's not how feelings work, I can't control who you like, why should I be angry?"

"I don't know, because I'm your rival?" Yeosang said, but he didn't look convinced at all.

"I'm gonna have to stop you there," Jongho shook his head. "Mingi's feelings are not a competition, and we're not rivals. We're friends Yeosang, and we're just gonna let him figure things out by himself."

"Okay, yeah..." Yeosang nodded. "That makes sense, thanks..."

"But seriously, don't give Seonghwa such a hard time just because you're jealous," Jongho chuckled, enjoying the way Yeosang's ears turned red.

"He still antagonized me back there so we'll see how I go about that," Yeosang grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Okay then," Jongho raised his hands in defeat. They didn't say anything else, and just continued admiring the vastness of space.

Wooyoung felt urgency as he looked for Hongjoong's dreams. He didn't know why the Universe hadn't sent the vision earlier, but they were in danger and he needed to at least warn them so they could be ready. He had been nervous ever since they had saved Seonghwa, because he had a bad feeling about the results they had obtained, like everything had gone too well. And now he had confirmation that he had been right about being worried.

He quickly navigated the spider web of dreams in front of him until he got to Hongjoong's. The prince was once again dreaming of the life he had left behind, but this time he was in the palace, doing sword training. Wooyoung didn't have time to wake him gently, and instead just barged into the dream causing everything to become black. Hongjoong turned to him with sword in hand, but stopped his attempted attack as soon as he distinguished it was Wooyoung.

"You're finally here!" Hongjoong exclaimed, and Wooyoung could tell by his tone that he wasn't too happy about Wooyoung being radio silent for so long. "It certainly took you awhile, huh? Are you finally here to tell me what the heck is going on?"

"I promise I will but right now it's not the time!" Wooyoung exclaimed, walking closer to Hongjoong.

"Oh, come on, are you going to ask me to save someone else?" Hongjoong sighed. "Mingi said you told him we were supposed to be eight in total, it would only make sense if you need me to find more people." Wooyoung shook his head.

"None of that, everyone is in your ship now, except for me," Wooyoung breathed in deeply. "But that doesn't matter right now! Listen to me!"

"Okay, okay, what is it?" Hongjoong nodded, deciding to leave the questions for later.

"Your ship is going to be raided at any second now, you need to make sure all of your crew stay together, especially Seonghwa, don't let them take him away with the rest of the rescues," Wooyoung explained quickly, breathing harshly like he had been running a race.

"What do you me-" Hongjoong began to ask, a bit confused, but he couldn't finish as he was abruptly pulled out of his dreams.

He woke up to an urgent Yunho quickly getting dressed while he yelled at him to wake up. Hongjoong felt lost and disoriented as he looked around and tried to understand. Yunho explained everything to him in short and quick sentences and he finally shot up as he understood what Wooyoung had been trying to say. He dressed up quickly just like Yunho and exited the quarters to find two bigger ships stationed next to them.

They had immobilized The Crescent and it was clear this was very much an arrest. Soldiers were going around arresting his crew members and the people they had rescued without stopping to distinguish who was who. He spotted Yeosang and Jongho handcuffed next to each at the forecastle deck, but he was stopped by an official when he tried to make his way to them.

"Are you the Captain of this ship?" The official asked.

"Yes, that would be me," Hongjoong nodded, immediately standing straight.These were soldiers of his empire, he was above them, but at that moment, he was nothing more than a treasure hunter.

"You're under arrest for attacking and damaging another ship, The Sailfish, and we would appreciate your cooperation," the official explained. Hongjoong knew that acting up would only bring more trouble to them, but he at least had to try to protect his crew.

"I understand, and we'll cooperate," Hongjoong nodded, "but first I would like to make you aware that what we did was rescue some people from a slave ship. Nothing more and nothing less."

"I'm certain that's true, but it was still damaging of a private property and physical assault, so we have to take care of things properly," the official smiled, but they certainly weren't in the mood to negotiate for things. They quickly pulled out a pair of handcuffs and handcuffed both Hongjoong and Yunho, who didn't resist. "Now, I would appreciate it if you could help me identify the members of your crew, since you say you're carrying extra people right now."

"Of course," Hongjoong accepted. He did his best to appear calm, but he was very nervous inside. How would they get out of this situation without his secret being brought to light? He only hoped he could protect all of his crew without leaving anyone behind.

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #kpopscape #8makes1teamnet #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez fanfiction #atz #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #kpop fanfiction #crescent #bluenicorn writes

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writers-thoughts09 · 4 years

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True Mind, True Heart

Act 1 Chapter 2 (Part 2)

Title: True Mind, True Heart: Act 1 Chapter 2 (Part 2) About 5.2k words Pairing: Zuko x OC (slow burn baby, it’s lowkey but high key my favorite type of story) Rating: PG with 13 mixed in there. Warnings: PTSD/ Anxiety attack, mean Zuko, ummmm fighting? A/N: Wassup I’m back again with part 2. I’m gonna go back later and fix this whole thing, but in the mean I hope you all enjoy it~ Also if you remember from chapter 1 Chan is the little boy Lila mentions in her journal.

At the revelation, Lila’s world slowed and all she could feel was her heart and her blood rushing through her veins.

“This child, no older than twelve, was the one Fire Lord Ozai sent his son to find?”

If they took Aang back to the Fire Nation, she’d be a witness and an indirect helper in the capture and death of the Avatar. She knew this already but..a child? She wasn’t prepared to see a kid proclaim to be the Avatar. Now, if they didn’t capture him, then no one would be free of this banishment. The conflict she initially felt doubled as the weight of what she learned pressed down on her. Lila’s heart constricted and she heaved a wheezing breath, her good eye watching the brawl between Aang and Prince Zuko ensue. Flashes of villagers from her hometown fighting off men in red attacked Lila’s memories. An image of a little boy named Chan who lived next to her when they were kids played before her eyes. Aang was doing the same thing Chan was, defending himself against fire nation soldiers, but unfortunately, Chan didn’t last long…

A pained gasp tore from her mouth, chapped lips parting. Pain stabbed at Lila’s chest. Continuous stabs of pain. Her chest began hurting so much so to the point she thought she was literally going to die. Now for some reason, it felt like her uniform was two sizes too tight. In order to try and alleviate some of the discomfort Lila arched her back to loosen the tightness around her chest but to no avail. Her red uniformed body sunk in a heap on the floor of the ship as her legs gave out, feeling weak like jelly. The only thing giving her a semblance of stability were tan hands that squeezed the ship’s railing. She squeezed so hard they paled a shade or two as metal bit into her calloused fingers. Short streams of air puffed from her lips, her breath fogging from the cold as memories of old plagued her. Their invisible arms wound around her stomach, chest, throat, and mouth. Choking her. The girl in red. Red uniforms. Screams. Lila knew what was happening. It was nothing new, but it was still scary each time it happened. She could feel her body temperature rising. The heat of her skin contrasting with the chills she felt, too. The warmth pooling specifically beneath her underarms, cheeks, and the back of her neck.

Not wanting to lose control of herself the petite girl mentally walked herself through her panic, “Okay, okay, okay, I’m on a ship, I’m holding onto the side of the ship. I’m here in the south pole, uncle Iroh is sleeping in his room.” Her breath shuddered as Lila raggedly gasped out, “One, two, three, four, five, six…” up to ten as she did her best to calm herself down. It felt like forever but soon enough the taut feeling in her chest subsided along with the temperature rise that suddenly assaulted her. Letting out a sigh, she leaned her cheek onto the crook of her shoulder and closed her eyes for a much needed moment. After a minute or so Lila shakily brought herself up from the floor and a spell of dizziness abruptly overtook her trembling limbs. Hands that still grasped the railing tightly reminded her of where she was while she collected herself.

Soon enough the ramp lifted from the snowy ground and the ship began pulling away from the freshly terrorized tribe.

A warm hand gently tugged on Lila’s shoulder and she whipped around like a feral fire fox, eyes wide and haunches tensed, only to relax once she realized who grabbed her. Uncle Iroh. The old man stood before her with his usual calming presence, although he still looked tired from his nap. Iroh observed her sweaty disheveled appearance, and concern welled up in him, rightly so. Not only was her hair falling out of her usual well-kept bun, he also caught her picking herself up from the floor when he came out on deck a few moments ago.

“Come, it seems my nephew has finally succeeded in his quest. We’re going home.”

Goading her with an encouraging grin, Lila could only nod, the happiness and relief she was supposed to feel evaded her all together as she followed behind him. “By the way, your hair looks nice when it’s out from that stifling bun you always wear,” Iroh added, wanting to make Lila smile. Appreciative of his efforts, she knew what he was trying to do so she gave a weak quirk of her lips in return. Prince Zuko’s guards and a few other men crowded around the bald teenager and Aang as one of the firebender’s roughly tied the Avatar’s wrists behind his back. Iroh stopped and stood beside his nephew and Lila stood a little bit away from Iroh, uncomfortable with the treatment Aang was receiving. Risking a glance at the kid she was surprised to see him already looking at her, puzzlement darting across his childish features when he saw noticed her red-rimmed eyes. Though at the same time, he held a bit of curiosity too, she didn’t look mean to Aang, and she’s been crying, but his attention was brought back to Prince Zuko when the Prince arrogantly began to mock him.

“This staff will make an excellent gift for my father. I suppose you wouldn’t know of fathers, being raised by monks.”

Seeing as how the Avatar didn’t bite the bate to argue back, Prince Zuko then ordered his guards to take the Avatar to the prison hold before shoving Aang’s staff into Iroh’s hands, telling him to take it to his room. Lila’s breath hitched when the men roughly pushed the kid to start walking below deck, her eye never leaving his kiddish frame, until uncle Iroh interrupted and handed the staff to her asking, “Hey, do you mind taking this to his quarters for me?” Before walking back to his room without waiting for a reply. Lila looked down at the intricately crafted wood in her hands, guilt, which she tried to push away, ate away at her before she looked back up. Once again, her eye caught Aang second’s before he was forced below deck, looking at her with that same expression she couldn’t decipher.

Inside the Prince’s room, her lips were sealed shut this time, she had no words after what transpired today. Prince Zuko was quiet too, only pointing to where he wanted the staff placed. When she turned to leave he stopped her, ordering her to help him untie his armor. Lila was quiet in doing that too as she quickly untied all the straps. Her hands trembled not quite in fear but fading adrenaline as the need to be far away from him bubbled within her being .

“Aang’s life will grant him his honor back and the end of this banishment,” Lila thought, “but at what cost?”

Finished with the task that was ordered, Lila left his room in a hurry and with a heavy heart as she closed the door behind her. Far enough from the Prince, she walked as if she were in a trance, the sound of her pants rubbing together was the only thing she could hear outside of her head. Mind muddled with colliding thoughts of not wanting to be a part of this quest any longer consumed her. She could handle the poor treatment of everyone around her and tolerate a life of banishment, but she didn’t think she could handle seeing the death of a child. Even on the main deck when the brisk wind mussed up her curls she was still in a daze until a body rammed right into her sending Lila tumbling to the ground.

Before she could even let out a groan of pain, a childish voice that failed to sound truly threatening asked, “Where is my glider?”

Her curly head shot up in surprise, the Avatar himself stood over her.

“W-what?” With how hard Aang ran into her, Lila felt disoriented as she tried to process what he said.

“No time to talk! You tell me where my glider is, and I’ll help you escape with me; you seem like a nice lady!”

“But you just told me not to talk-” Lila stammered out before being cut off again.

Aang, whose hands were still bound behind him, awkwardly leaned down and pulled her up so fast all she heard was wind graze her ears as she tried to right herself. Barely holding onto her wits-end Aang was already running at an inhumanly break-neck speed, dragging Lila behind him as he ran back into the tower she just left. If it wasn’t for Aang’s hold on her Lila would’ve never maintained his speed, she would’ve fallen face first by now. On the first floor of the dim command tower, the tattooed boy turned a corner swinging the dumbfounded servant girl with him and skidded to a stop with her slamming into his back. The kid barely even moved. In front of them, stood a hand-full of shipmates that blocked the rest of the hallway. Just like Lila, they too were taken aback at the sudden appearance of the Avatar and their servant girl.

Looking at the Avatar, who was a few inches shorter than her, he seemed just as chipper as he was on the penguin when he asked, “You haven’t seen my staff around, have you?” With her hand still clasped with his, the boy gently squeezed it and whispered, “Jump on my back.”

A little budding sprout of hope sparked in Lila when she realized this boy was serious in helping her escape. So without a moment to waste she wrapped her arms around his chest as Aang hoisted her up, his wrists supporting the underside of her ample thighs and launched forward. Before the men could even move to apprehend them Aang tightened his hold on Lila, whispering a quick, “Hold on,” and ran up the wall of the corridor. Using his momentum and the air around him he sprinted across the top of the roof, down the other side of the metal walls in a corkscrew fashion, and repeated this until he bobbed and weaved each crewmate that stood in their way. All the while Lila shoved her face into Aang’s shoulder, squeezed her legs around his waist, as stifled her screeches when he ran up the walls.

After he blew passed the men with abnormal ease he yelled a “Thanks anyway,” leaving them to look back at the pair with gaping mouths and faces of disbelief. Lila held the same reaction as she too couldn’t believe the abilities this kid possessed, while holding someone too!

“Okay, as much as I think you’re nice, I’m going to need you to help me out here, I have no idea where I’m going.”

The Avatar turned down another corridor and Lila immediately spotted a short cut that’d lead them to one of the floors near the Prince’s room.

“The ladder, right there near the end of the hall,” She whispered.

The young servant girl could feel Aang bend the air around them, manipulating it to propel himself farther into the hallway, and without using any part of his body jumped up the ladder into another corridor on the second floor. This time one of Prince Zuko’s imperial firebenders blocked their path and he was ready for the duo.

A large blast of fire hurtled at the both of them, its burning embers reflecting in their eyes. Stiffening in Aang’s grasp Lila froze, her fear of fire flaring up, but the boy who held her was already two steps ahead of the firebender. Graceful and limber, in one large leap the kid jumped over the stream of fire, dodging its heat, and the bender himself, cutting the distance between them and their exit. Seconds before landing Aang used the sharp edges of the man’s helmet when he jumped to severe the rope binding his wrists. Luckily Lila was still hanging on tight, so she didn’t fall when he repositioned his arms and grasped the back of her knees. But she did scream a little too loudly in his ear, though he decided that was okay, he did just flip across the expanse of the corridor.

Again, Aang didn’t slow down and booked it up a couple of stairways Lila usually used to get to Prince Zuko’s room. Praying that in the cover of confusion and chaos the Avatar was creating for everyone, the Prince wouldn’t be in his room.

“Sorry for scaring you, it was the fastest way to get away from him,” Aang apologized, tip-toeing carefully now that they were on Prince Zuko’s floor. Gingerly, Aang squatted as Lila clumsily clambered off his back.

“It’s okay, we’re close,” She whispered, her insides tingling with nerves. The paranoia of being caught with the Avatar, aiding his escape, had her on edge. Lila knew doing this would put her in a world of trouble with the Prince.

Though she pushed on and led the way down the hall with Aang trailing behind opening and closing every the door he passed. Every squeak the doors made didn’t help in calming her down, scared the noise would give away their location.

“You know,” Aang started his voice a tad bit too loud making Lila jump. He gave her a sheepish smile when she turned quietly telling him to lower his voice in case anyone was nearby.

“Sorry,” he quipped back, “but this isn’t a trap right? A plan to capture me all over again?” Grey eyes narrowing in slight suspicion. To Aang, she didn’t look or act nearly as menacing as the other people on this ship, and now that he was walking beside her...yeah not evil; but he couldn’t be sure.

Answering right away Lila softly began, “No, I’m only a servant on this ship. If this were a trap I’m sure you’d be able to escape on your own easily.”

A boyish giggle sounded from behind her, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Why are you helping me though?”

The boy’s naivety and innocence unconsciously cracked a smile from Lila, “Well you didn’t give me much of a choice, considering you dragged me along,” to which Aang nodded in thoughful agreement, “but honestly, I don’t think I could live with being involved in the capture of a twelve-year-old looking kid.”

“Yup, I was right! You aren’t like the rest of the people here,” Aang happily declared before asking, “why are you here though?” as he haphazardly yanked open another door. However, this door he opened was Iroh’s, and Lila tensely held her breath. Painstakingly slow, Aang closed the door whispering out a prolonged sorry before dashing ahead of Lila, right past the open door of Prince Zuko’s room.

Wait, opened door? No, she was sure she closed the door behind her when she left his room- No.

“Aang wait! The Prince-” The boy didn’t hear her, too busy backtracking toward the room he shot past. Which was the room that held-

“My staff!”

The metal door slammed closed with a loud band immediately after Aang rushed in, his naivety striking again. Soon enough Lila could heard the commotion of fighting. The roaring sounds of Prince Zuko’s fire blasts along with Aang’s airbending could be heard loud clear from where she was standing. Rushing to the door Lila goes to open it, forgetting her injured hand, but retracts just as quickly and cries out a pained yelp when she grabbed the hot cogwheel. Prince Zuko’s fire was heating up everything in his room as he fought, including the metal door. Cradling the finger with her cloth tied around it Lila called out, “Aang are you okay?”

Inside the room, Zuko’s eyes widen at the sound of the feminine voice then narrow into angry slits once he recognized it was his servant girl, “Why that traitorous little-”

“I’m okay!” Aang yelled back, effortlessly evading another one of Prince Zuko’s attacks.

Helplessly Lila looked around the corridor, it felt like her heart was going to burst if Aang didn’t hurry up. Like an answered prayer, not too long after, the door swung open as Aang grabbed her hand and dragged her away from the room down the hallway. Lila could hear Aang pant slightly. He looked sweaty and his hand felt clammy, but he still managed to successfully get his staff which was clenched in his other hand.

“Quick, Lila,” he heaved, “where do I go now?” Stuttering, the girl struggled to recall the ship’s design for a moment; she was sure Prince Zuko was going to chase them soon and knowing that prevented her from thinking clearly.

Forcefully pushing herself, it hit her, “Up ahead there’s another ladder with a hatch above it, like the one we jumped through on the first floor! This one here is usually closed but it leads to the bridge of the ship,” Lila rushed out in one breath, panting as they ran.

Aang looked back at her in confusion and she realized he didn’t know what a bridge was so she clarified, “It’s the room where the helmsman, or the captain, steers the ship. We can get out through the observation deck there.”

Nodding his head, Aang picks up the pace once they neared the ladder at the end of the corridor. Thinking it’d be easier to climb with Lila on his back he skids to a stop in front of her and crouches down right as Lila stumbles into him.

He steadies her hastily, making sure she has her arms and legs wrapped around him as he climbs up the ladder, preparing his glider for their escape. Once he reached the top Lila grabs the cogwheel of the hatch above them. Her arms strained at first, but once she felt the metal slack and turn she twisted it as fast as she could. When they heard the hatch unlock Aang sent a blast of air pushing it open then quickly airbended them up from the last ladder step and into the bride.

“Straight ahead,” Lila directed.

Without stopping Aang runs through the room, ignoring the helmsman, toward the balcony of the observation deck. Both Lila and Aang smile once they felt the southern air greet them, Lila had never been happier to feel the cold than right now. Freedom was at their fingertips. Swiftly like a fire ferret, Aang opens the glider and throws it over the balcony catching the air current as he jumps right after it with Lila on his back. The girl would’ve closed her eyes and screamed when Aang launched himself over the railing, had she not seen the open air.

Although time didn’t stop, she still feasted upon the sight that laid before her; committing everything she saw to memory. From the height that Aang jumped from, Lila could see the icy blue expanse of the southern pole around her. The gradually darkening sky, the sun that was holding onto the horizon with its fingertips, the same one that was begging to be admired earlier. The blue and white glacier walls surrounding them, and the waters below. It was beautiful, Aang kept his word and helped her taste the sweet flavor of freedom, and Lila wanted to see more.

Just when Aang grabbed the glider a sudden fierce shout of desperation broke Lila from her reverie as a weight closed around Aang’s ankle, pulling them down. Looking back she saw the Prince holding onto Aang glaring at the both of them. The Avatar grunted, trying with all his might to keep them afloat but the combined weight of the three proved to be too much of a strain on the glider as they all fell from mid-air. Lila gasped her scream stuck in her throat, butterflies erupted from her stomach and her heart dropped from free falling, though her eye remained on the view above her.

The trio hit the deck hard tumbling over each other. Aang for sure bruised his bottom and his tailbone. Prince Zuko hurt his stomach. The side of Lila’s face and shoulder slammed into the floor. Pain bursting through the seams. The three of them groaned laying still for a moment. Though when they fell Prince Zuko ended up breaking Lila’s fall without realizing it, because she ended up sprawled atop his back. She could feel the blood rushing to the side of her face, her temple down to her chin was hot to the touch.

Lila had no time to gather herself the pain too great to ignore. For Prince Zuko he was already on his knees growling, inadvertently rolling Lila off of him, barely registering that she was even on him as he rose to his feet. Too fueled with determination and anger in getting Aang back in his clutches. Zuko promised to himself a long time ago that he would not lose his shot at going home. Aang was already on his feet taking a defensive stand with Zuko utilizing an offensive one.

Grabbing onto her shoulder the young girl wobbles to her feet and sways for a second as a wave of nausea hits her. Lila did her best to ignore the pain, which she was losing that battle, groaning to herself. Sparing a glance at her Aang silently asks if she’s okay to which she discreetly nods her head yes. With Zuko and Aang about to square off for round two, Lila closed her eyes, her blind one aching from the fall, attempting to concentrate on calling the water beneath them.

Once again she couldn’t feel anything, the nerves and adrenaline from all that’s happened blocking her, until she hears a loud growling in the distance,

“What is that?” Zuko exclaims, his mouth parting in disbelief.

Looking over his shoulder behind him, Aang sees, “Appa!”

All three of them look up to the sky to see a huge six-legged sky bison soaring through the air. Lila hears that same girl from the village calling out to the Avatar along with the boy that fought the Prince. Relief fills Lila knowing that aid has come. Aang quickly turns back to Zuko who shot a fireball and utilizes his glider and the air to dispels his attack. Though Aang didn’t expect the ferocity of the Prince’s fire, pushing him into the side of the ship, almost knocking him overboard. Frustration wells up in Lila, fear tickling her spine and holding her feet down, forcing her to watch Aang fend off the Prince. Lila gasped when a stream of fire knocked the staff from Aang. Even while dodging and avoiding Prince Zuko’s moves, he was unavoidably pushed to perch on the edge of the ship’s railing, arms flailing to keep from falling. Breaking the paralysis on her body, Lila yells, “Aang!” Stretches her hand out and runs toward the kid after the Prince fires three more shots from his hands and feet. Trying to call on the water below but to no avail, she, unfortunately, doesn’t reach the kid in time. The fireballs knock Aang off-balance finally pushing him overboard seconds before Lila reaches the railing.

She lets out an ear-shattering, “No!” In anguish, having been forced to see the young Avatar plummet into the water and disappear beneath its liquidy surface. At the same time, the girl from the water tribe hysterically screams, “Aang! No!” The sky bison named Appa coming closer to the ship.

At that moment, with Lila desperately searching the waters over the side of the ship, her lack of sight frustrating her along with her bending not coming to her; Zuko rounds on her. Fury raining on his visage at her mutinous betrayal. He should’ve seen it coming the second she started asking him what he was going to do! With everyone distracted, the water tribe girl on the bison screaming for the Avatar and his servant looking over the railing, he makes up his mind .

Suddenly, before Lila’s eye, the water begins to ripple and lap at the side of the ship, a vortex swirling in the middle of the sea. Just then as the swirling began to intensify, out of the whirlpool, Aang shoots up from the depths of the ocean, bending the water up encasing his body from the waist down. Suspended in the air higher than the command tower, Lila, Zuko, and his crewmates that filed onto the deck looked up in wonder – on Lila’s part – and fear.

With Aang at the center of this enormously tall waterspout, Lila breathes “Amazing,” taking in his glowing eyes and arrow tattoos, it was just like the beam of light they saw from before! “He truly is the Avatar”.

Then Aang shots down from the sky, landing on the ship deck, still glowing, and bends the water into a circle. Barricading him from everyone that surrounded him with Lila unintentionally being a part of that ‘everyone’. With him in the center of it, he then releases the watery circle barricade and expands it outward blasting Prince Zuko and his men away from him. The majority of them went flying off the ship but Prince Zuko manages to save himself from the fall by grabbing the chain of the ship's anchor. Lila was whipped into the wall of the command tower, pain exploding through her already injured shoulder, and now her back. Falling to her stomach, the girl groans, every movement she made hurt. Unconsciousness batted at her body, her ears ringing, the voices around her sounded muddled, like her head was behind held underwater. As her body began to shut down against her will, she tried fighting the feeling when she saw the furry beast, Appa, land on deck, the two water tribe kids jump off the bison. Once she saw them lift the weary twelve-year-old, knowing he was safe now, Lila mentally waved her white flag and gave into the darkness.

However, Aang notices Lila’s limp body, remembering the promise he made with her.

“Katara we have to get that girl!” Pulling from her hold, wobbling a little, he runs toward Lila with Katara following behind. Sliding on his knees to close the space between him and the fallen girl, as gently as he could Aang tugs her onto her back and gasps. The whole right side of her face was bruising up and her body jerked when he touched her shoulder.

With a small groan, Lila weakly opens her eyes, the water tribe girl and Aang leaning over her. She sees the girl, Katara she recalls, recoil at the pale color of her right eye as Aang worriedly calls her attention.

“Hey, I’m so sorry for knocking you out but I need you to get up, we have to go!”

“N-No,” Lila whimpers, “there’s no time. You and your friends need to get out of here before it’s too late.”

“Stop! Don’t say that, I promised I’d help you escape if you helped me. You held your end of the bargain now let me pay mine.”

Lila lets a laugh gurgle from her throat, repeating what she told him earlier, “Again, you didn’t give me much of a choice, but thank you, Aang.” A sharp pain travels along her shoulder making the girl bit back a groan before adding, “You let me experience what freedom looks like.”

“I can carry you,” Katara offered, but once more Lila shakes her head no.

“No time, take Aang and leave.”

The said boy opened his mouth to argue again but Lila stopped him with a smile. As pained and banged up as she looked, Aang saw the sincerity in her face. She nodded at him mouthing the word, “go,” before nodding off into the land of darkness again. With a heavy heart, Aang shuts his eyes before he turns and holds Katara's hand as they race back to Appa, clambering onto the saddle on the beast’s back.

After the Avatar and his friends fly away Iroh emerges from the tower, his eyes ladled with sleep. Despite just waking up, Iroh knows he didn’t just imagine a sky bison flying overhead and looks up in confusion until he notices Lila unconscious on the floor and his nephew struggling to pull himself back onto the ship. Rushing to Prince Zuko’s aid, he pulls the boy up who was growling and snarling in anger,

“Shoot them down!” The prince barks, rushing to the middle of the deck in unison with uncle Iroh, the both of them launching a massive bolt of fire at the Avatar and his companions. Katara and her brother look back in horror at the encroaching fire until Aang jumps from his spot on Appa’s head to the back of the saddle, and with his staff, the boy musters up the energy surrounding him and swings the staff with all his might. Aang airbends a gale of wind so strong it sent the fireball, made from the combined powers of Prince Zuko and Iroh, right into a nearby ice wall cliff. The Prince’s plan backfires immediately as a huge amount of snow from the cliff falls like an avalanche onto their ship. Aang, Katara, and Sokka laughing in triumph at their clever escape.

Ice was everywhere, it covered the expanse of the fore-deck and half of the mid-deck, the Prince knew that they’d for sure his ship was heavily damaged and needed to go to the nearest harbor for ship reparations. A growl bubbling from his lips.

“Good news for the Fire Lord,” Iroh quipped light-heartedly, “The nation’s greatest threat is just a little kid.”

“That kid, Uncle, just did this,” snapped his nephew. Motioning to the snow buried ship before turning toward Iroh. “I won’t underestimate him again. Dig this ship out and follow them!” Prince Zuko ordered but stopped when he saw half his men were incapacitated by frozen water, the remaining shipmates melting the ice with their firebending. “That water tribe girl,” he concluded.

Speaking of girl, the Prince sees his traitorous servant lying motionless in a heap of red clothes by the tower wall. Anger floods his veins as he stalks over to her, Iroh warily following after his nephew. Towering over her, Prince Zuko raises his heel and rouses her with his boot, roughly shaking her injured shoulder. Iroh was about to grab his nephew and demand what he was doing to his friend until they heard Lila whimper. Before she could even open her eyes the Prince was already grabbing her shirt and pulling her up by her sleeves.

“You are in a world of trouble!” He spits.

Now fully alarmed Iroh demands, “What could she have possibly done? Let her go!”

Wave upon wave of nausea beats against Lila, the black dots slowly disappearing as she weakly lifts her head. Rage-filled eyes glare down into her, she didn’t need to be reminded of what she chose to do, everything was fresh in her mind.

Prince Zuko sneers down at the quivering girl, the mere sight of her and what she did brought him to an even higher level of vexation.

“Wouldn’t you like to know Uncle? This servant has truly lost sight of where she belongs and thought it’d be funny to try and help the Avatar escape.” He venomously spits before calling two of his men, one of them being Lieutenant Jee. Coming up on either side of the girl, the Prince shoves her into their arms, a gasp tearing from her lips at his rough handling.

“Take her to one of the holding cells!” He orders. Iroh’s lips part in stunned silence, but even he knew he couldn’t change his nephew's mind.

Lila looks at the Prince in surprise although she knew she shouldn’t be, she knew the consequences she’d face the second she decided to help the Avatar. Her betrayal would lead to her punishment, but she knew she couldn’t let the fire nation get a hold of the Avatar. Her heels dug into the floor when the men began pulling her away, her arms trying to jerk out of the men’s hold in a feeble attempt to get away. However, the Prince suddenly ordered them to stop.

Slowly and meticulously Lila listens to Prince Zuko’s footsteps as he rounds on her. With him so close her chest involuntarily begins to heave when he breaks through her personal space, leaning in close to her face. He takes a moment to examine her. The tremor of her hands, the panting of her breath, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Last but not least the shiftiness of her eye, her blind one closed, as she struggles to hold his stare. “Defense mechanism,” he thought.

“Funny,” he begins, “when you were looking for the Avatar in the water I was wondering if I should punish you or not. Even back in my quarters, when you spoke without permission, I was considering it. You were doing so well, staying off my bad side. A model servant, probably the best I’ve ever seen. You even managed to befriend my Uncle. Then you go and stab me and all of my men, your crew mates in the back. Even my Uncle,” Lila’s nervous gaze was about to shift to Iroh but Prince Zuko blocked her as he circled in front of her like a sea lion. “Ah ah ah. Don’t look at him.” His voice was uncharacteristically silky and velvety. Her eye following his every move, apprehension visible in her demeanor. Lila had no idea what he was going to do, she let out a shaky breath, the crisp air fogging up, and Prince Zuko heard it, “You were so bold when helping the Avatar, what happened?”

Then his knowing stare flickered to the cloth tied around her pointer finger and back to her eye before he pulled the cloth free and held it mockingly up to her face before hissing, “Try covering your eye now.”

Finito. I quickly double checked it, I’m gonna go back and edit this more later on. BUt I hope it was entertaining~~ Be blessed.

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aswallowssong · 4 years

Text

Whumptober (Sickfic) Day 4 - Headache

SCRC AU

Read on AO3

-----

By the time she’d pawed at her eyes for the sixth time, actively displacing her left contact, again, and making her want to scream, she was done for the day.

It was only ten o’clock.

It had been years since she’d had a headache that made her feel like she could drop dead, but in the fluorescent lights of the BAU bullpen, she was pretty close. There were plenty of reasons she could think of that would contribute to the splitting pressure sitting behind her eyes and wrapping around her temples.

She hadn’t been sleeping. Not since she’d stared down the barrel of a gun three weeks before. To compensate, she’d been drinking an insane amount of caffeine, and not enough water to keep her anywhere near hydrated. She still pushed in the morning with Morgan, maybe harder than before. Her fitness exam was coming up, and she hadn’t wracked up enough field hours to have it deferred or covered.

Plus, she was supposed to have her monthly review with Unit Chief Ramos at the end of the week, so she needed to review all of the files she’d worked on in the last thirty days, and the two health meetings they’d been able to squeeze in, and the post takedown reviews. Including the one where she’d been nearly shot in the face.

I’m going to scream.

She pulled her backpack off the floor, grabbing in the first pocket for the small mirror she kept for emergencies. Like when her contact was threatening to blind her.

“Why don’t you just put your glasses on?”

Her eyes flicked up, wincing when she felt her contact stab her, and she was met with Reid’s searching eyes. He was the only one that knew she wore glasses, and she was glad that everyone else had seemingly gone to lunch. Except, of course, Hotch, who never seemed to leave his office, ever, for any reason.

“They snapped,” she said, annoyance dripping on her tongue despite her best efforts. “In Texas.”

“When your backpack got run over?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “When my backpack got run over.”

He thought for a moment before saying, “That’s the third time you’ve pulled out your mirror to fix your contacts after rubbing your eyes. You know, you should wash your hands before you touch your eyes or face. There’s an estimated-”

“No, Reid, stop.” She held up a hand to him, one hand rubbing harshly at her left temple. “I know how many germs are on my hands. I know the risk of eye infection. Please leave me alone.”

There was a moment of quiet before he tilted his head at her, tongue flicking over chapped lips before he asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she breathed, moving to fix her contact, again.

“Okay,” he said quietly. He turned back to his own file, though he was getting through his much faster than she was. His hands flicked over the pages as he read, and Kit felt envy for him she’d never felt before.

It was almost twenty minutes, while Kit had her face in her hands, that Reid said, “Do you have a headache?”

She could have laughed if she wasn’t so miserable. “Yeah,” she said.

“Are you tired?”

“Yes, Reid.”

“Is the light hurting your eyes?”

She looked up at him, feeling more exhausted and annoyed by him with every moment that passed between them. “Yes, Reid. The light is hurting my eyes.” Her voice was far harsher than it should have been. She and Reid didn’t get along perfectly, but things had been better than at the beginning of her stay with the BAU. They rarely outright argued, they never really had, but she was ready to let him have it.

That was, until his voice got quiet, and small, and he sheepishly asked, “Did I win?”

Kit tilted her head at him, her eyebrows pulling together as she tried to restrain herself from rubbing at her eyes. “I dtigh diabhail, Reid,” She snapped, “Did you win what?”

“I’m Fine,” he said simply, not letting her annoyance phase him. The only thing she was getting from him was calm, which while she appreciated it, it also annoyed her. “That’s what you called it, right? When I was sick in New Jersey? I got three. That means I win.”

She shook her head quickly, immediately disliking the way it made the world swing around her. “That’s not how it works.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m pretty sure those were the rules. I have an eidetic memory.”

“I don’t-” She started before stopping herself. Reid had squared to her and had his arms crossed, a challenge brewing in his eyes.

She wanted to fight with him. She hadn’t fought with someone in a while, and she was in the right mood to go absolutely nuclear, but she found herself deflating as she looked at him. Sheepish, submissive Spencer Reid was challenging her in her domain, and the only thing she could do was wince as her head throbbed extra hard.

“What do you want from me, Spencer?”

He nodded at her, gesturing to the backpack in her lap. “Give me your backpack.”

“That’s not-”

“Dakota,” he said, gesturing again.

She tossed it over to him, which he caught easily. He pulled it open, searching for only a few seconds before pulling out the bottle of ibuprofen and one of the little bottles of water she always kept. He didn’t give them to her, like she was expecting, but instead nodded towards her mirror. “Take your contacts out.”

“Everything is going to be blurry.”

“I know, but when I have a headache, the only thing I want to do is take my contacts out.”

She stared at him with squinted eyes before saying quietly. “I didn’t know you wore contacts.”

“Yes you did, it’s in my file,” he said. She shook her head again, slower than before, and mumbled, “I didn’t memorize every single part of every single file. There were seven of them.”

He simply nodded towards her mirror again, and she sighed before doing what he said.

She had so many things to do, and the stress wasn’t helping, but she’d lost. She’d made him follow her rules when they were in New Jersey, even though he didn’t want to, so even though she had a lot to do, it would be hypocritical to go against her own system.

The world was instantly blurry when she took the contacts out, just like she’d told him, but she did feel a significant amount of pressure lessen from behind her eyes.

“Better?” He asked, and she nodded gently. “Yeah, a little.”

He nodded back to her, gesturing for her to follow him as he stood and started for the stairs. If her head had pounded less, she might have reminded him that she just took her contacts out, and it would take significantly more mental energy for her to climb the stairs without tripping and falling to her death. Instead she took them carefully, trying not to whine when her toe caught, and the jerk it caused her did not help her situation in the slightest.

Spencer led her around to Hotch’s office, and her chest flooded with anxiety. “Wait, Spencer, no. I didn’t tell Hotch in Jersey, you can’t tell him now.”

He stopped short, turning and shaking his head at her. “Hotch is way different when we’re in the office. On a case, he’ll bench you. Here? He’s different. I’d thought you’d noticed that; you’ve been here a few months.”

“Noticed what?” She asked, not at all understanding what he was getting at.

“Don’t you notice when people disappear during the day?”

“Yeah,” she said, “I assumed they went to meetings, or lunch, or to go ask Garcia a question. If I’m reading I don’t-”

“You don’t even notice, right. Well, trust me, you’ll want to know about this.”

He knocked on Hotch’s door, even though it was open like it always was.

“Yes?” Hotch said, and Reid poked his head into the office. “Are you busy?”

“No,” she heard Hotch say, and Reid took a step in the door, gesturing for Kit to follow. She swallowed down her anxiety, sure she was going to be scolded for letting a headache get in the way of her work. It took a second before she was willing to step into the office behind Reid, and when she looked at Hotch with squinted eyes, she saw his body language shift to that of concern.

“What’s going on?”

“Do you have a meeting today?” Reid asked, shifting his weight from side to side. Hotch shook his head, looking between them before saying, “No. Section Chief Strauss isn’t coming in until tomorrow. Why?”

“There’s a phone call for you in the conference room.”

Kit looked between the two men with bewilderment. There was most certainly not a call for Hotch in the conference room. She didn’t even think there was a phone in the conference room.

“What are you-” She started to say, but Hotch seemed to relax slightly as he nodded at Reid.

“Ah. How long?”

“Maybe an hour?” Reid said, and Hotch nodded again.

“Okay,” he said as he gathered the file in front of him, as well as two others that were sitting on the desk. “Come get me when you’re done.”

“Yes, sir,” Reid said simply, and Kit couldn’t have been more surprised when Hotch stepped around his desk and walked out of his office.

Reid moved with practiced ease, pulling the blinds closed and setting the water and the pill bottle on the table.

Kit had to shake herself out of her focused trance to say, “Wait, wait, what are you doing?”

He turned to her and looked like it was the most idiotic question he’d ever encountered. “I’m shutting the blinds.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he said, turning back to finish the job. “When they’re open people can see inside, and also, the fluorescent lights still come through.”

She looked around for a moment, everything blurry and her head pounding, and she said quietly. “Spencer, stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop for a second. What are we doing in here? Why did Hotch leave? Why are you shutting all the blinds, and why did you lie to Hotch about a phone call?”

All the questions tumbled out of her, and he froze in place for a moment before he faced her again. “Oh. It’s a code. I told Hotch he had a phone call so he would know to go work in the conference room.”

“But why?”

His eyebrows pulled together for a second before he let out a quiet chuckle. “So you can take a nap.”

She stared at him for a moment before it all clicked together. “Wait, that’s where you all go during the day?”

He shook his head quickly. “Not all the time, and not all of us. Mostly Elle and I, and sometimes JJ, but she has her own office. But her office doesn’t have a couch.”

Kit was amazed. “So, you developed a code so that you can come take a nap? On Hotch’s couch? And he just let it happen?”

Reid shook his head again, his smile pushing wider. “No,” he said simply, “Hotch developed a code so that we could come take a nap on his couch.” He stalked towards the door satisfied with the blinds and when he looked at her again his eyes were sympathetic. “There’s a pillow and a blanket in the side table. The top opens up. I’ll come get you in an hour.”

Without another word he slipped out the door frame, leaving her alone in the office. The bottle of ibuprofen and the water sat on Hotch’s desk, and for the first time that day, she felt herself relax. There was a contingency plan. Hotch had a plan for his team when they needed a break, and as a healthcare provider, she’d never felt more sure that a team leader cared about his team.

She turned to shut the door, but found herself calling out the door, “Spencer?”

He was almost down the stairs, and turned to look back up at her, “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she said, her breath catching as she felt tears pool in her eyes. She desperately needed a nap, and she was suddenly very touched that Reid had even noticed something was wrong.

He shrugged simply and nodded. “Of course, Dakota. Have a nice nap.”

She heard a chuckle come from her chest, and she nodded at him before turning back inside and flipping off the light.

#Brenna writes things #or at least she tries #Criminal Minds #SCRC #Whumptober Sickfic 2020 #sickfic #headache #day 4 headache #Spencer is the softest boy #Hotch's office is where the naps are

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trensu · 4 years

Text

Episode 38: The One where We Unwillingly Take a Break from Wangxiantics

okay, so wwx has decided they're doing Empathy

and he's putting jin ling in charge of bringing him out of it! jin ling is shocked!!

lsz: if jl is unwilling, i can do it

jl is like, no i'll do it!

Wwx joins hands with A-Qing and starts Empathizing.

We go ten years back and see little a-qing playing in the water, the adorable little rascal!

A-qing is a GENIUS street kid isn't she? A grifter through and through!

Pretends to be blind and got some buns from some sweet ladies on the road

Picks some dudes pocket, pretending to be blind

i’m so proud of her

SHE'S BUMPED INTO XXC, MY BEAUTIFUL ELFIN PRINCE

i don't understand why his blindfold is all bloodied up

shouldn't that stuff have healed by now? whatever

LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL ELFIN PRINCE PROTECT THE LITTLE STREET KID

HE IS TOO GOOD

TOO GOOD OF A PERSON

And here A-Qing decides to adopt herself a Dad

"if you don't let me go with you, i'll have to resort to stealing again and someone will surely strike me down and i'll be totally helpless"

xxc is so amused by this child and is like, okay, guess we’re together forever now

GAH

THIS PART IS SO FRUSTRATING

THEY ALMOST GOT AWAY WITH AVOIDING XY ENTIRELY

But instead of giving a-qing a piggyback ride due to her "sprained ankle" xy got a piggy back ride for, what, being almost dead? HE IS UNDESERVING OF PIGGY BACK RIDES FROM XXC

even if he is a kinda handsome

lol, watching xxc get handsy with xy for “healing purposes” is so funny

he gets very close to some VERY INAPPROPRIATE TOUCHING at certain points

a-qing, probably: i've only had xxc for a day and if anything were to happen to him I WOULD MURDER XY and no one else bc he’s the most likely culprit of anything happening to xxc

but for real tho, it's so sweet how quickly she comes to xxc's defense.

it kinda reminds me of how quick wwx is to verbally defend lwj

gosh, xxc is so pretty playing nursemaid here

so gentle, so soft

xy is LOVING it

that bastard

LOL

a-qing to xy, the guy they found half dead on the side of the road: you're such a weirdo

such good bedside manner, she has lol

lol xy's villain origin story is "i couldn't have candies as a kid so now i murder for fun"

A-QING IS BRAVER THAN ANY SOLDIER

xy is testing to see if she’s for real blind and SHE JUST WALKS RIGHT INTO THAT SWORD TO SELL THE PART

i actually enjoy a-qing and xy's interactions. they're both street-smart and understandably suspicious/wary of people

so seeing them talk to each other is interesting

i keep getting distracted by xxc's fine features

lol xxc: i'm gonna fix the roof

xy: bro do you even know how?

xxc: nope, but i have a plucky, can-do attitude!

xy: yeah no, i'll do it

xxc: okay, i'll help!

a-qing: HOW ABOUT NO, HE'S SKETCHY AF

if only xxc had trusted a-qing's instincts

omg how do they get so flirty

xy: can you take me out tonight~?

xxc: no, you're still injured

xxc: besides, you make me laugh too much. i won't be able to hold my sword steady

xy: i can assist you with your sword~! don't leave me behind, please~!

and xxc gives in like lxc under pressure

then xy "helps" xxc up the ladder and cups his hand around xxc's waist and slides it oh so casually down over xxc's ass

WATCH IT, XY. HANDS TO YOURSELF, YOU MURDEROUS BASTARD.

god, it's so awful how xy uses xxc

he gets a sick twisted joy in getting xxc to murder innocent people unknowingly

why, why do this

he probably just wants to drag him down to his level, prove to himself that everyone's a killer at heart or some shit

okay, i will say i appreciate xy's willingness to murder when they're at the marketplace

veggie salesperson: I'M NOT SELLING TO YOU FOR WHATEVER REASON

xxc: oh, i understand *sadly walks away*

xy: *viciously stabs a potato and waves knife threateningly*

veggie salesperson: you know what, let me actually give you a discount. here take all the veggies

SONG LAN, SONG LAN IS HERE NOW

Lol

sl: hey little blind girl, have you seen a blind cultivator dressed in white around here?

i mean i'm pretty sure he knows she's not blind, but still

he's like, ah, yes all blind people must know each other, right?

a-qing is, ofc, suspicious of another random dude in black asking after the dad she adopted

She’s like, oh, you know my dad? name three of his albums

sl: he's my height, pretty and his sword has flowers

A-qing: you think my dad is pretty? you must be a good guy then, i'll show you to him!

if xy weren't such an awful person, i'd say it was cute how playful he is with xxc

song lan is doing a death grip watching xy flirtatiously tease xxc

i don't think it's a death grip of gay yearning

it's more of a helpless rage sort of death grip

oh, now we're back with the juniors

they're debating if jin ling should pull wwx out of the trance yet bc wwx is getting distressed

the juniors start to pull him out of the trance, but (un)lucky for us we still get to see the rest of the tragedy unfold!

i'll never understand why song lan didn't approach xxc while xy was off grocery shopping

IF HE'D ONLY DONE THAT, THE REST OF THE TRAGEDY WOULDN'T HAVE OCCURRED

it cuts right into song lan's soul, having to listen to xy explain how he tricked xxc into doing all those evil things

xy just cut out sl's tongue and poisoned him with that powder

oh nooooooo

xxc just stabbed him through with his sword

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

back with the juniors, trying to pull wwx all the way back

and they succeeded!

omg so dramatic

ljy: what did you see through empathy?

wwx: it's too long of a story, i'll tell you later

jl: don't leave us in suspense! cut it short!

wwx: in short, xue yang must die.

i mean, he's not wrong but he didn't have to be Dramatic™ about it

and now wwx ditches the kids to rejoin lwj

he sees lwj still fighting xy

wwx: lan zhan! *whips out flute and starts playing*

then he gets interrupted by our favorite zombie boys who are also still fighting

wwx: wn, restrain him!

wn ofc, restrains song lan

now we get another nail-pulling scene, yuck

oooh, lwj takes a swing at xy with bichen and cuts off the Magic Pouch 2 containing xxc's spirit or whatever

Magic Pouch 2 goes flying and lwj decides to play baseball or smth and hits the pouch with his sword so wwx can catch it

omg, baseball, i miss baseball, stupid pandemic. somebody give me a baseball au so i can cope.

xy: GIVE THAT BACK

and lwj is like, okay and flings his sword at him lol

you know, it's corny as hell but i get a kick out of seeing lwj use bichen like a boomerang

and xy disappears into the fog

so wwx starts the good guy monologue

xy: *maniacal laughter*

wwx: xxc is so disgusted by you, and you still want me to bring him back to life so you can play that crappy game

xy: that's not what i want!

wwx: o rly? then why did you kneel down and beg me for help??

and that's the end of the episode

Very little WangXiantics. Like, less than last episode even.

But at least we got to enjoy xxc’s beautiful Elfin Prince face.

And ignore every bad thing that happens to him!

Because Denial is my favorite coping mechanism!

Return to Masterpost

#WangXiantics #wangxian #the untamed #cql

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tinsley-goldsworth · 5 years

Text

band-aids don’t fix bullet holes chapter 4

read chapter 4 on ao3!

Summary: ricky and c.c.’s relationship comes crashing down and c.c. hates watching it burn

Wc: 2842

Tw: kidnapping, angst, mild violence

To say that C.C. wasn’t expecting this was an understatement. He and Ricky hadn’t been on best terms ever since the mysterious stranger showed up at their house and warned C.C. vaguely before getting stabbed. C.C. kept asking Ricky if what the stranger had said was true but Ricky denied or changed the topic whenever he asked.

C.C. and Ricky had gotten into an argument and Ricky had stormed off in the dead of night to “collect his thoughts”. C.C. hated sleeping on arguments but at this point, he was too tired to stay up and think about Ricky and his sly lies. He fell asleep and when he woke up, he was tied to a chair in what seemed like a dark warehouse.

C.C. knew Ricky was agitated but there was no way Ricky would have gotten so mad as to plan to commit homicide, right? Dang, he really hated dating an unpredictable, emotional criminal. He realized that Ricky wasn’t the one who tied him up as the knot style was different from the knot style Ricky used. As C.C. struggled to escape from the boa-constrictor-like grip of the ropes, a figure stepped out of the dark corners of the warehouse. “C.C. Tinsley. Or should I say, Banjo McClintock?”

A man walked out from the shadows, a fedora on his head and a smirk on his face. C.C. didn’t recognize the man but by the way the man acted, C.C. was probably supposed to recognize him. The man took off his sunglasses that never had any use in the first place other than serving as a fashion accessory and met C.C.’s eye as he took out an ID. On the ID card read the name “Banjo McClintock” with the man’s smiling face next to the name. C.C. reeled in shock, wondering why Ricky never told him the Banjo McClintock was the name of an actual person and Banjo began pacing around the C.C. in small circles with his hands clasped behind his back.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re here. Don’t worry, I’ve got all the time in the world to explain,” Banjo chuckled and C.C began trying to

Piece together who Banjo was. He had no accent whatsoever in his voice, making it obvious he was a voice actor or a spy. C.C. decided that it was the latter as a voice actor probably wouldn’t have the guts to kidnap anybody.

“You see, you’re not supposed to be doing much, you’re just serving as bait for our dear friend Ricky,” Banjo hissed out Ricky’s name as if silently cursing him. “Ricky and I used to work together. As a spy for the government, I didn’t have many people to rely on and I would often turn to Ricky for information. We worked together for a couple years before I got assigned an investigation into one of Ricky’s close criminal friends, he decided that it was time to end my career.”

C.C. knew that he should be taking notes and paying attention to Banjo’s dramatic villain confession but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. After all, he just had a fight with his boyfriend and now he was getting kidnapped because of his boyfriend, so he really didn’t know how to feel about all this. Banjo couldn't care less about the internal conflict and emotional shifts C.C. was going through and continued to ramble on.

“I had gone to Ricky for leads for that investigation and he brought me to an abandoned building. He proceeded to lock me in the building and set the building on fire, leaving me for the dead,” Banjo turned towards C.C., waiting for a reaction to the gruesome tale. C.C. gave no reaction as he heard more gory stories about his boyfriend murdering and blackmailing people than this tale.

“What he didn’t expect was for me to live. I guess he really thought I was dead as he gave my identity to you. What a smart guy. I mean, if you’re dead, you don’t exist, right? You’re basically off the records with this ID,” Banjo mused, pausing his storytelling to consider a thought that briefly crossed his head. He blinked out of the momentary trance and continued. “I used to be a good cop but now, I just want revenge. I sent a warning but you didn’t listen. I’m tired of Ricky messing around. Did you know he’s still fooling around in the crime world? Not as much as he used to but he still has a prescience.”

C.C. gritted his teeth, hating that he was only finding out about this now. He really hated that Ricky was lying to him and that the perfect life he had lived was all an illusion. The thought that everything was fake had made a home in the back of C.C.’s mind so while it surprised C.C., he knew that Ricky was tied to the criminal world and that even if he tried, he wouldn’t have been able to ever fully separate himself. But Ricky didn’t even try to separate himself, according to Banjo, and the fact that Ricky had lied really hurt C.C.

“Ricky lied to you about stopping. He’s addicted to the thrill of it. He loves feeling the adrenaline and the thrill of breaking the law right under the cops’ noses. It’s time for me to end his reign. You’re one of the only things he cares about and he’s going to be running here for you soon. I will be remembered as the man who took down Ricky Goldsworth,” Banjo’s voice crescendoed as he passionately spoke and gesticulated, a crazed expression in his eyes. C.C. definitely couldn’t trust this guy a hundred percent as a near-death experience probably didn’t help this guy's credibility in terms of mental stability.

Just as Banjo began to ramble about how C.C. was just a “boy toy”, a loud bang echoed through the seemingly empty warehouse. As C.C.’s eyes adjusted to the darkness from the direction of the sound, he saw Ricky walking towards Banjo, a controlled but furious expression on his face. He seemed unfazed but also dangerously on the edge of becoming unhinged in the blink of an eye.

“Banjo. I didn’t know you were alive,” As Ricky approached Banjo, the spy backed away and raised a gun to C.C.’s head, clicking the bullet into place. C.C. wasn’t too worried about dying as he had ended up in more dangerous situations and based on Ricky’s quick-witted nature, he was probably going to get out of this alive.

“Surprise,” Banjo snarled, beginning to loosen his grip on the gun, his focus shifting towards Ricky and away from C.C. For a spy, Banjo wasn’t very observative as he didn’t seem to notice that Ricky had been slowly walking towards him. Ricky’s eyes met C.C.’s and they read each other’s minds for a second, sharing the intent to take Banjo down. C.C. stuck out his leg and kicked Banjo in the ankles, causing him to trip and catching him off guard. As Banjo doubled over, Ricky sped over and stabbed him with a knife. A minimal amount of blood splattered as Ricky clearly killed with the intent to cover it up.

Banjo screamed in agony but Ricky kicked him aside, clearly more worried about C.C. With the bloody knife, Ricky cut open the ropes that bound his boyfriend and when C.C. was free, Ricky leaned towards C.C. to give him a kiss but C.C. jerked back.

“I don’t even know you anymore! Is this what you’ve been up to? Still making enemies?” C.C. argues, anger blinding all his other emotions. Ricky opened his mouth to respond but C.C. cut him off harshly. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. This was your mess and you dragged me into it. You have lied to me about everything and I don’t want to hear any more lies.”

C.C. began storming off, satisfied that Ricky wasn’t trailing behind him. He paused for a moment, spun around, and felt his heart painfully twist as he saw Ricky’s hurt expression. Ricky always remained composed and smooth but now he was visibly torn and his sharp pin was reflected his eyes, but C.C. couldn’t seem to find empathy. He had been feeling this immense emotional pain Ricky was now feeling ever since he had first loved Ricky and C.C. met Ricky’s hazel eyes that were pooling with heartbreaking sadness as he spat, “And you know what? I think I fell in love with the old Ricky. The Ricky that actually trusted me and didn’t go around stabbing people.”

With that C.C. walked away from Ricky and the life he had with his old boyfriend. He returned back to the place where he was working before and explained his disappearance as a long break he decided to take to cope with the death of his grandpa. People didn’t really question it as they had better things to do with their time and the head of the office simply welcomed him back with a “We’re glad to have our best detective back!”

C.C.’s job was more difficult because now every criminal ache encountered reminded him of Ricky. He hated that he couldn’t stop thinking of Ricky no matter how hard he tried. Little did C.C. know that Ricky still cared. A lot. Although Ricky pretended not to care, he still often made sure C.C. was doing okay. He didn’t react as irrationally as C.C. thought he would and no killing sprees had commenced yet.

When C.C. realized that keeping his feelings to himself wasn’t going to allow him to forget Ricky easily, he decided to go pay Francesca a visit. When he walked into Francesca’s thrift store, he heard Francesca talking with Ricky and froze. He hadn’t heard Ricky’s voice in weeks and his voice alone was bringing back memories and a sense of longing.

“To be fair, you did kill my husband to save him. I mean, I’m not too mad about it but you can’t expect me to be cheerful either,” Francesca scoffed, playful disdain and thin resentment in her voice. C.C. was pretty sure she was referring to Banjo and was taken aback at this new information. He wouldn’t have expected Francesca to marry a spy, but then again, he never knew what to expect from Fran.

“Please, that poor man was so boring, Fran. I can’t believe you settled for him,” Ricky chuckled and Francesca broke into a grin. C.C. cleared his throat, making his presence known and when Ricky turned around, their eyes met for a brief second before C.C. looked towards Fran. Ricky awkwardly adjusted the gold watch on his wrist and mumbled something about leaving before he brushed past C.C. and left the store.

“If it isn’t good old C.C.,” Fran smiled as C.C. walked up to the counter, who broke into an equally bright smile, glad to see his old friend. “You have no clue how much I’ve been hearing about you from Ricky. He’s so infatuated but he was too dense to properly show you how much he cared about you.”

“I really thought he cared and it really sucked that he had been lying to my face this whole time,” C.C. admitted, sighing in frustration as he remembered him shouting at Ricky the last time he saw him. Fran nodded, an empathetic look on her face as she arranged trinkets on the counter into a neat little pyramid.

“Ricky had good intentions. Contrary to popular belief, Ricky isn’t a terrible person. Sure, he might not be the best person- after all, he did kill a bunch of people- but he cares a lot about you,” the corners of Fran’s twinkling eyes crinkled with amusement as she spoke. It was hard to believe that this was where these three friends had ended up and C.C. could tell that Fran was thinking about their high school years too after bringing it up.

“I know but it’s just so hard to forgive him. I trusted him and he lied for so long. Maybe I fell in love with the old Ricky,” Tears threatened to fill C.C.’s eyes as memories sped through his head, remembering the good old days when C.C. and Ricky were able to be around each other without too much to worry about.

“Ricky is still the same old Ricky. To be fair, his job has changed him and he��s developed a rough exterior. But under that tough shell is still the same Ricky that can’t stand salad dressing. He still has one of the biggest hearts in this world,” Fran couldn’t help but smirk at the odd juxtaposition of the concept of good and an infamous serial killer.

“I want to forgive him and love him without worrying about him lying because of his job but it’s… difficult,” C.C. struggled to word his feelings as he just had a lot to think about when it came to Ricky. He had never stopped loving him but he also wondered if Ricky really did love him back or if he was using him.

“If you really do love him, take your time for your decision. Forgiveness doesn’t come as easily if you’re hurt badly but just remember that he’ll wait for you,” Fran’s eyes were filled with emotion, a rare sight, as C.C.’s dilemma seemed to remind her of something in her memories that was long forgotten. C.C. thanked Francesca for the advice and she returned back to her happy self, replying with a wink, “Its no problem at all! Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding when you two get married!”

“On the topic of weddings, why wasn’t I invited to your wedding? I’m not hurt, just curious,” C.C. asked and Francesca chuckled, her signature smile paired with a glint in her eyes creating an amused expression.

“I didn’t have a wedding since I wasn’t legally married. Banjo and I were spies so our identities don’t really exist. Besides, having legal documents is basically begging people to dig up your past,” C.C. raised his eyebrows at the last statement and gave her one last glance before exiting the shop. No matter how many questions he asked, Francesca Norris was always going to be the most mysterious person C.C. had ever met.

C.C. caught himself thinking about Ricky and his relationship with Ricky almost constantly no matter where he was. He wanted to talk to Ricky again but he was terrified that he was going to immediately fall back into Ricky’s deceiving lies. C.C. returned to Fran’s shop a couple more times to ask for advice and to spill his feelings and Fran told him about how Ricky hadn’t been active in the criminal community anymore.

C.C. was surprised since he thought Ricky would go on killing sprees to cope with his feelings but Fran informed him that Ricky skipped the anger stage of grief and went directly to the depression. According to Fran, Ricky spent most of his time infiltrating public cameras and watching over C.C. to make sure he was safe.

Then, C.C. realized that Ricky really did care for him and probably regretted lying to him. Just as Fran said, forgiving was a process and he eventually accepted his feelings and decided to give Ricky a second chance. C.C. didn’t want to jump back into a relationship quickly but he wanted to ease himself back into talking with Ricky again and smoothening their rocky relationship.

C.C. knew that Ricky could get into C.C.’s house and probably visited a couple times since they stopped seeing each other. He figured this out from a couple of his bottles of champagne disappearing. Ricky eventually began to visit C.C.’s house more often and began helping him out. Whenever C.C. stayed up working on a case, he often fell asleep with the light on but lately, whenever he fell asleep with the lights on, he woke up to find that the light had been turned off. Sometimes C.C. would leave the radio on and leave the house in a rush and come home to discover that the radio was turned off. As much of a bastard Ricky was, he still helped C.C. save money on his electricity bill and obviously still cared for C.C. Tinsley.

Recalling that Fran mentioned that Ricky was keeping a close watch on C.C., which was a little creepy but oddly comforting, C.C. decided to leave him a little note in his kitchen. If he was going to give Ricky a second chance, he had to take it one step at a time. On the note, C.C. simply wrote, “I’m giving you a second chance. Dinner at 8 on Monday?” He left the note on the same kitchen counter Ricky used to sit on while waiting for C.C. to return from work and went off to work. It felt a little artificial but C.C. didn’t see how he could contact otherwise. When he came back home after work, he was delighted to find that a response had been written on the back of the note.

Ricky has scrawled, “I missed you. I can’t wait for Wednesday” and C.C. broke into a genuine smile, finally feeling hope that maybe this would work out after all.

taglist: @hot-mess-writer @thesevensins-1990

a sequel is coming soon! if you want to read it when it comes out, subscribe to this series on ao3! i have my bfu fics linked in my bio!

#fics #bfu #ricky goldsworth #c.c. tinsley #tinsworth #francesca norris #banjo mcclintock #bfucu #buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed unsolved cinematic universe #fanfiction #angst

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flamegodess · 5 years

Text

Let The Darkness Fall

Chapter 11

Genre: royai vampire au, romance, angst, fluff, ugh soon a little gore and violence, it's a vampire story, what did you expect

Rated: T

Enjoy!

-----

“Bridge, you went too far this time. She has nothing to do with this.”

Riza was panting hardly, feeling like she couldn’t breath. The cold fingers wrapped around her neck were making her whole body feel numb. But she could still...

“She has! And she deserves to die. Right in front of you, Roy.”

Her grip tightened but in that instant, Riza drew out the silver dagger and stabbed the vampire. She let go of her and fell on the floor chocking to death. Roy hugged Riza closely and nuzzled the top of her head.

“I cannot die... By the hand of a human... Not like this... ” she begged as she was rolling in a puddle of her own blood.

“You shouldn’t see this.” He whispered to Riza and lifted her bridal style. “Let’s go home. Maes, thank you again for staying by my side.”

Hughes nodded but didn’t avert his eyes from Bridgette. Roy knew she had been his friend. It must have been hard to watch such a terrible scene. They left. Riza felt very tired all of a sudden as the events started to sink in. She had just killed a powerful vampire. And she had told Roy how she felt about him. Fuck, she had told him she liked him. She still wondered...

“Aren’t you hurt? You’ve been like...bleeding for a long time?” and yet he was carrying her just like nothing happened.

“Vampires heal quickly. Especially because I drank your blood. By tomorrow I will be perfectly fine. What about you?” he asked as he entered the room through the window and placed her carefully on the bed.

“C’mon, just worry about yourself and stop behaving as a mighty vampire... You have been stabbed.”

“You don’t believe me? Fine.” He replied and unbuttoned his shirt. She lifted her head and starred at the nearly healed wound on his abs.

“That’s kind of cool.” She whispered to herself and he smiled in response as he lay next to her. Looking in her eyes, he suddenly frowned and sighed.

“There’s something I need to tell you. But you really have to trust me.”

She rarely saw him so serious. It seemed important. What could have been more to be said that night?

“Of course I trust you. What happened?”

“The only vampires who are allowed to turn people are the ones that are part of the council. If an ordinary vampire would turn a human, he would be terribly punished while the new turned vampire would be killed right away.”

“What? But you weren’t turned by the council.” And he was like... Alive.

“No. However they decided to allow me to live because they wanted to benefit from the fact that I was learning alchemy from your father. They asked me to spy on his studies so I could continue to live. They know your father is preparing a strong weapon against them. And that is”

“The flame alchemy. But you wouldn’t...I mean... You... ”

“That’s why I told you that you need to trust me. I’m not betraying you or your father. I have told no one about the flame alchemy...however I need them to trust me so all I have told them is that your father is preparing something powerful. I am so sorry I haven’t told you earlier. I can totally understand if you want to hate me or think that I am a traitor.”

“And you said I was the one who wasn’t thinking straight. I can’t hate you. If you say that you’re telling the truth, then you’re telling the truth.”

“I told you I might betray your father and you’re taking it so lightly?” he asked a little confused by the lack of drama.

“Am I a bad daughter if I don’t really care about what’s between my father and your vampires? Besides, you’re a good person, Roy. You might tear vampires’ heads off and maybe you have killed people in the past, but that’s not changing the fact that you are a good person. ” Riza replied and stroked his cheek.

That moment he forgot that he was a vampire. A creature meant to kill. She reminded him of his human side. Of who he had been. It sometimes amazed him how she could see right through him, inside.

He wanted to say something more but he noticed her eyes were closed and she was breathing softly, one arm resting on his chest. He leaned closer and kissed her forehead. For the first time after a while he could fall asleep without blaming himself for what was happening.

----

The bell that announced the end of the class woke Riza up in the most non gently way possible. She lifted her head from the desk and blinked a few times before realizing that she was supposed to leave the classroom and head towards the biology lab. She was tired. Killing Bridgette drained all the energy out of her. And the scene where Roy was bleeding to death on the floor of Bridgette’s fancy house. She shivered as she walked down the corridor.

“Hey.” She heard and someone wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“What are you doing here?!” she replied trying not to make a scene in front of the crowded students.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Roy answered casually. Riza frowned and looked at him carefully. His eyes had a subtle shade of red. Of course. “Fighting Bridgette made me hungry. And I couldn’t have woken you up in the middle of the night for that.”

“So you decided to come to school instead? It makes sense. ” she said and rolled her eyes. She realized that many students were looking at them so she gestured to him to continue to walk down the corridor. “I have a reputation for not attracting boys, don’t spoil that. ”

“What if they knew I am your boyfriend?”

“You’re not.”

“Yet.”

She shook her head defeated. She wasn’t entirely sure what was between them but there was one thing she knew for certain, especially after last night: she liked him more than in a crush way.

��Look, you can’t feed on me here. It’s too risky.”

“Well then your father will realize that my eyes are slowly turning red.” He wasn’t expecting either that his master would return so soon.

“Riza!” she heard Rebecca’s voice faintly down the corridor. No. Rebecca was the last person she needed now. Fortunately they were passing by a service room so she didn’t wait for more. She opened the door quickly and pushed him inside.

“Good.” She said as she entered and slammed the door behind her. It was a small room designed for keeping cleaning stuff. In the dim light she could see indeed the glimpse of hunger in his eyes.

“You’re going to be the end of me... ” she murmured as she brushed her hair away from her neck. He smiled softly and kissed her. She didn’t find the strength to oppose. Not that she really wanted to. She flinched when her back hit the wall and managed to murmur something.

“Hurry, I’ve got class-”

“Shh.” He silenced her as his lips traveled down her jaw to her neck. She wanted to let go of every worry and feel him. To show him that she liked him just as much as he did. But there was always some kind of barrier that didn’t allow her to. She forgot about everything as his fangs sank into her and her arms travelled down his back.

Before she could react, the door of the cleaning room was opened and the light from outside crept in. The intruder froze in shock and Riza managed to pull Roy away brusquely. He growled confused and wiped away with his wrist the blood on his lips at the sight of the young girl who was starring at them.

“Rebeca I swear... ”she tried to murmur awakening from the earlier trance. “It’s not what it seems.”

Rebecca inspected them carefully before speaking.

“Well it seems like your father’s hottie apprentice is drinking your blood.”

Riza gestured to her to come in and close the door behind. She didn’t need more people in this. Rebecca did as Riza said and tried to keep the distance pressing herself against the door. Riza knew that Roy’s crimson eyes might look scary to someone who had never seen him feeding on her.

“What are you... ” her voice tremble as she looked at Roy. Neither of them knew what to say. Rebecca bit her lips at the sight of the blood that was slowly flowing down Riza’s neck and closed the distance between them.

“Riza... ” she added not knowing what to do. She got a tissue from her pocket and wanted to wipe away what looked like a terrible hurting wound. She flinched as Roy gripped her hand. “Don’t.” Was all he said.

He was trying to hold back the urge of continuing to feed on Riza. He felt a strange anger boil inside him because of the disturbance. In fact, he was trying to hold back from throwing Rebecca right through the door out of the room.

He let go of her hand and she stepped back startled.

“He’s a vampire... ” she concluded. “And I haven’t even drunk so much last night... ”

“Rebecca. Please, you have to forget about this. They might kill you. ” Riza finally managed to speak.

“They? Are they more? Oh my gosh Riza why haven’t you told me?”

“I swore not to. And as I said, you have to go away from here and pretend this didn’t happen. Okay?”

Rebecca moved her gaze back to Roy and again to Riza’s neck.

“Was he turning you? Or are you one of them already?”

“No way. He was only... ”

“Hungry. And I still am. ” he continued and crossed his arms threateningly.

“Umm... Wow.” She hummed.“That’s so freaking awesome. Oh my god, make me a vampire, please! ” she said as the glimpse of fear in her eyes was replaced by one of excitement.

Roy shook his head annoyed and fixed Riza’s neck.

“Rebecca-”

“I can’t just forget about this. It’s so cool...”

Riza noticed the way Roy was starring at her. “Come to my place after classes so we can discuss everything. Now,you should leave before you see something that might Umm... Traumatize you.”

“But I want to see how he drinks your blood. ”

“That’s kind of private.” She replied and realized her cheeks turned pink.

It was true. She hadn’t felt comfortable when the council was starring at her when Roy branded her. It was a thing between her and Roy.

“What if he kills you?”

“Oh I can assure you she’s not the one who will die.” He said and shot her a ferocious look.

“Umm... OK. But you’ll tell me everything about this.” She added to Riza. “And, nice to meet you Mr. Hot Vampire. ” she said and held her hand to him.

“Do you have any idea how easily I can break that?”

Riza bumped him in the shoulder with her fist. “Sorry, Becky, he’s not really sociable when he’s hungry. See you later.” She apologized and waved gently to Rebecca who still had her hand held. She nodded quickly and left.

Roy didn’t wait for more and pressed Riza back against the wall and continued what he was doing earlier. All she could think about was fuck fuck fuck, but somehow his touch and the burning sensation on her neck gave an optimistic note to the situation. Soon, his fangs were replaced by his soft lips and tongue. He fixed her with his now black orbs and pressed his forehead against hers.

She used her thumb to wipe away the blood in the corners of his mouth.

“I didn’t want to be a complete jerk to your friend. It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not. And it’s good that you came to me before my father could realize. We’ll figure everything out with Rebecca. She’s a good person, I promise. I’m just afraid that the council might find out... ”

“And that would be the end of the three of us.” He said worried. She wrapped her arms around his neck and their lips met in a short peck. The bell rang announcing the end of the break.

“I’ve gotta go.”

---

Rebecca was again startled that day when Roy used the window to enter Riza’s bedroom.

“Sorry for earlier.” He apologized and ruffled his hair. “Roy. But Mr. Hot Vampire works also. ” he introduced himself with his charming smile and held his hand to her. She shook it and smiled friendly. “Rebecca.”

“So you really are a vampire?” she asked as all the hesitation seemed to fly away. He nodded and Riza rolled her eyes. He had a huge ego anyway. “And you are extremely fast?”

“Yes.”

“And strong?”

He nodded.

“And you sparkle in the daylight?”

“What? No...” Roy answered confused.

“Sorry, Rebecca has a thing for supernatural stuff. Now, we should discuss the important part. If someone finds out you know about Roy, they are going to kill us.”

“Who exactly might kill us?”

“The vampire council.” Roy replied.

“What? And I thought this thing couldn’t be more awesome!”

“I hardly think this is awesome.” Riza mumbled.

They explained everything that Rebecca needed to know, repeating again and again that they were all in mortal danger. The brunette girl let it all sink in. The silence was stabbed by the buzz of Roy’s phone. It was a text from Hughes. He scanned the message two times to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood it.

“Riza. They are summoning us tonight at the council. ”

#let the darkness fall #vampire au #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #royai #royai is canon #angsty royai #royai fanfiction #royai fic #young royai #fmab #fma #youngroyai #roy x riza

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a-corndog-named-schibbs · 6 years

Text

Fangs, Fur, and Phantoms - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Next Chapter

Back at it again with more spooky fun. Coran finds weird uses for a communion wafer. Lance accepts an offer he’d rather refuse. Answers are finally found.

Note: Contains religion (Note within a note: author was raised Protestant. If you’re familiar with Catholic liturgy and notice she got something wrong, please let her know so she can fix it)

Enjoy!

“God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church, may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Amen,” Lance murmured.

“May the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of all the saints, whatever good you do and suffering you endure heal your sins, help you to grow in holiness, and reward you with eternal life. Go in peace.” Coran said from the other side of the screen.

“Already got the eternal life bit, thanks,” said Lance, under his breath.

“Do we need to do this again so you can confess to sassing a prophet?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Lance stepped out of the confession booth.

“How about Mass? When was the last time you had that?” Coran asked, also exiting the booth.

“I think I can go without tonight.”

“Well, let’s test that, shall we?” said Coran, reaching over to the altar and picking up a communion wafer from the dish. He approached Lance and pressed the wafer to his forehead.

Lance winced. When Coran pulled the wafer away, a slight pink mark appeared where it had been.

“Better to be safe than sorry. I’ll get the blood bag.”

“It didn’t hurt that much…”

“It’s not supposed to hurt at all,” Coran pointed out, “If you want to take care of your immortal soul then you’ve got to take the treatments.”

Lance sighed, “Oh, all right.” He certainly understood why he took Mass. He was the one who had asked Coran to help him find a way to do so, his family’s faith one of the few ties to his past he had left. That didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating, having to take Mass nearly every night just so he could walk past a crucifix without fear of getting a headache.

Lance watched as Coran retrieved the cup used specifically for vampire-friendly Mass (no need for the other congregants to drink wine from a cup that had had blood in it the night before) and poured blood from a blood bag into it. He then recited the invocation and presented Lance with the cup. Lance drank it down.

“There,” said Coran, “Let’s try this again.” He picked up the communion wafer and touched it to Lance’s forehead once more.

“Nothing,” said Lance, “Now you’re just a guy holding a cracker up to another guy’s forehead.”

“Good. That means it worked,” Coran set the wafer down and patted Lance on the shoulder, “I’m glad you stopped by tonight, Lance, it’s always nice to see you. Tell Keith I said hi and try not to get into too much trouble.”

Lance smirked, “But you’d be out of a job if I didn’t.”

“I’m serious, son. If you come in here next week and tell me that you’ve…I don’t know…eaten a five-year-old or something—“

“Coran! I would never! Five-year-olds aren’t nearly ripe enough to eat.”

Coran raised an eyebrow.

“Kidding, just kidding,” said Lance, “You take care of yourself, Coran. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Lance exited St. Groggery’s, he noticed a man across the street, standing by a rather expensive-looking car and illuminating the pavement with his phone’s flashlight.

The man looked up and noticed him, “Excuse me, do you think you can help me with something?”

Lance crossed the street, “What do you need, man?”

“I seem to have dropped my keys, could you help me find them?”

Lance almost didn’t catch the man’s words. Up close, he was strikingly attractive. Tall as hell and slender, but not without muscle. His facial features were an elegant, refined sort of handsome and his long platinum-blond hair showed signs of being well cared-for.

“Sure,” said Lance, “Sure, let me just…” He knelt down and peeked under the car while the stranger held the flashlight, not that he needed it to see in the dark. After a moment, he spotted the keys and fished them out.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you so much. I was worried they’d gone down a storm drain. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along.” The man put his hand on Lance’s arm. Lance had mixed feelings about the gesture, though he couldn’t seem to bring himself to shake the other man off.

“Oh, it was nothing really.”

“Still, I’d like to show my gratitude in some way. How about I get you a drink?”

“I, uh, I don’t drink…alcohol.”

“I know,” said the man, pulling the collar of his shirt down slightly to reveal his collarbone.

Bad idea, said Lance’s brain, even as his arms reached for the man and his legs carried him forward.

The man pulled him into a nearby alleyway and pressed him against the wall. Lance’s head spun. He could already smell the man’s blood, could practically taste it on his tongue. It would taste so good to have blood straight from the source for once. The last time he had had a fresh meal was…

That snapped Lance out of his trance. The only person he did this with anymore was Keith. You just got out of confession and already you’re trying to eat from a stranger, what’s wrong with you? Lance took a step back, “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t. I need to get home—“

His words were cut off as the man shoved him backwards against the wall, a hand wrapped around his throat. Lance tried to shake him off, but the stranger only pushed him harder into the bricks, lifting him off his feet with astonishing strength. Lance squirmed against the man’s grip. It would take more than choking to kill him, but the lack of oxygen was making his head spin.

Something hard and pointed pressed against his chest, right above his heart. Lance looked down. The man was holding a wooden stake, poised to stab him with it.

“I assume you know what that is. If you so much as scream, it’ll be the last noise you ever make.”

The man set Lance back on his feet.

“What do you want?” Lance hissed, rubbing his throat.

“You’ve encountered two individuals by the names of Agents Shirogane and Prince, yes?”

“Yeah…” said Lance, remembering the agents that had come to Keith’s house the other day.

“They work for an organization known as the Paranormal Bureau of Investigation. An organization that hunts down creatures like you and me.”

“What’s your point?”

“I want you to kill them for me.”

Lance’s lip curled in disgust, “Let’s assume I have any intention of humoring you. Give me one good reason why I should do this.”

“Besides the fact that they would hunt you down and throw you in a cage if they knew what you are?”

Lance shrugged, “Plenty of people have tried to hunt me down before. No one’s caught me yet.”

“I figured you’d need a bit of extra motivation,” the man pulled out his phone and pulled up an image, “How about this, then?”

Lance’s stomach dropped. A picture of Keith filled the screen.

“He’s your lover, isn’t he? Such a handsome boy…It would certainly be a shame if anything unfortunate happened to that lovely face.”

“Listen,” Lance growled, “If you think you can scare me…”

“Not good enough? How about this, then,” The man swiped across the screen and an image of two children playing in a backyard slid into view. The picture was slightly blurry, as though it was taken covertly.

“These are your…oh, what was it?…great-great-grandchildren? I don’t know how you keep track. Their names are Nadia and Sylvio, aren’t they?”

“You wouldn’t dare…” whispered Lance.

“You don’t want to know what I would dare to do.” The man let Lance go. “You have until Saturday. If Agents Shirogane and Prince are not dead by then, I will personally track down and kill everyone you love. Oh, and one more thing,” the man turned and faced Lance once more, “When you do kill those agents, be sure to tell them Lotor sent you.”

***

In addition to its quality coffee and friendly customer service, Mochas & Magic also sold second-hand books. Allura figured that was as good a place as any to do research on local folklore.

She had decided to perform this particular task solo. Shiro was busy interviewing Mr. and Mrs. Griffin about the incident and Allura figured she might get better results if she went alone anyway. If this Colleen woman’s daughter really had information on New Altea’s supernatural population, she might benefit more from a girl-to-girl chat.

As Allura pushed open the door to the coffee shop, she heard Colleen’s voice ring out, “Welcome to Mochas & Magic! Come on in!”

Colleen was stationed behind the register today. Beside her was a rather large young man in an apron, sliding trays of blueberry scones into the display case.

“Oh, I remember you,” said Colleen, as Allura approached the counter, “You and that young man were in here yesterday, talking about vampires.”

“Yes, that, uh, that was me,” said Allura, trying to keep her voice down. The young man in the apron was giving her a strange look. “You mentioned your daughter knowing a lot about folklore. I was wondering if I could talk with her for a bit.”

“Well, I’m sure she’d be happy to discuss it with you. Hunk, do you know where Katie is?”

“I think she’s shelving books right now,” said Hunk, still not taking his eyes off of Allura.

“Thank you,” said Allura, “That’s very helpful of you.”

“Are you writing a YA novel?” said Colleen.

“Hm?”

“Is your research for a YA novel? We get a lot of authors in here doing research for novels they’re writing.”

“It’s just for a personal project,” said Allura, before making her way to the bookstore section of the shop.

A young woman in her early twenties was stocking the shelves, climbing a stepladder to reach the highest ones. She had short, brown hair and large, round glasses.

“I’m almost done,” the woman said, “One moment.”

“Are you Katie?” asked Allura.

“Yeah, but you can call me Pidge,” the woman said, stepping down from the ladder, “What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping you could help me find some books on a certain subject,” said Allura, casually scanning the bookshelf nearest to her.

“Depends on the subject, I guess,” said Pidge, “What were you looking for?”

Allura picked up one of the books off the shelf. The cover was emblazoned with the word Beowulf. She flipped through the pages idly. “I’m just looking for information on some of the creatures in this area.”

“Like what? Foxes and raccoons?”

“More like werewolves and vampires.”

There was the barest flicker of worry on Pidge’s face, but it soon disappeared. “I hate to disappoint you, ma’am, but creatures like that don’t actually exist.”

“But your mother said people came here to research the subject all the time.”

“Well, yeah, but not like actual researchers. Cryptid hunters and teen romance novelists, those kinds of people.”

“So you’re saying supernatural beings aren’t actually real?”

“That’s absolutely what I’m saying, yes.”

Without warning, Allura tossed the book she was holding directly at Pidge’s head. Pidge yelped and held up her hand and the book stopped just short of her face, hovering in midair.

“Are you sure?” said Allura.

Pidge lowered her hand and the book dropped to the ground, falling open, “Well, shit. You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Well, now that we’re done with the playacting, we can get straight to business. What can you tell me about the werewolves in this area?”

But Pidge didn’t seem to be in a cooperative mood at the moment. “You’re one of the agents who interviewed Keith, aren’t you?” she said.

“So you know Mr. Kogane, do you? Can you tell me anything about his whereabouts on the night of James Griffin’s death?”

“I knew it!” said Pidge, ignoring her question, “I knew there was some sort of men-in-black thing for supernatural beings. Are you part of the government?”

“Now who’s being a conspiracy theorist?”

“It’s not a conspiracy theory if you’re right.”

“Look,” said Allura, “I don’t want to accuse your friend any more than you do. If there’s anything, anything at all you can share with me that might help clear his name, it would go a long way toward helping him.”

Pidge sighed, “Listen, I can’t give you any hard evidence, but whatever you’re looking for, whatever killed Griffin, it’s not a werewolf.”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” said Allura, “but how do you know this?”

“Because I did some scrying. We went to the place where the body was found and I contacted Griffin’s spirit and saw what he saw when he died. And let me tell you, it wasn’t a werewolf that killed him.”

“Well, what was it, then?” said Allura, “Can you describe it?”

“It was dark, so Griffin didn’t get a good look at it. But it was big. Bigger than a werewolf, that’s for sure.”

“So, a bear?”

Pidge shook her head, “Bigger than that, even. And it had these horns…” She held up her hands near her head to illustrate, “And these eyes that glowed and it looked like…like a…” She glanced down to think and froze.

“Like what?” said Allura.

“Like that.”

Pidge pointed down at the book on the floor by her feet. It was open to an illustration depicting a huge, horned creature with a human grasped in its enormous hand. The caption on the page read, “Grendel carrying his prey to his lair”.

For a moment, Pidge and Allura could barely move. Then, Pidge scooped up the book. “I have to show this to Hunk.”

“I have to make a phone call,” said Allura as Pidge left the room.

Allura pulled out her cell phone and called Shiro. “Come on, please pick up, please pick up, it’s important.”

After the second ring, Shiro answered, “Allura? Something wrong?”

“Shiro, you owe that Kogane kid an apology.”

“Hmm? Why’s that?”

“Because I think I just figured out what actually killed James Griffin.”

#klance #hidge #vampire lance #werewolf keith #witch pidge #ghost hunk #this whole first section of the chapter is just one big shout-out to dracula #lance #coran #lotor #allura #pidge #hunk #my posts #my fanfictions #fangs and fur au

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anxya · 5 years

Note

Jim - Horror, Death, Sympathy

Well, I got a bit carried away but here it is.

The room was cold as always, same four walls in off white paint with cold metal desks. The same piles of paperwork, the same humming of computers and the same colorless room in a colorless life. It seemed the only colors left to the place was the faint green glow of the digital clock mounted on the wall and his own eyes although even those seemed lifeless these days. He just sighs and continues on with his forms in the silence, breaking it only occasionally when he switches between the forms.

He keeps focus on the task at hand until a smaller boy walks in spilling his things across the floor before rushing to pick them up. “I- I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to do that!” He scrambles to gather his things knocking them further apart before Jim places his hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine. I’ll pick them up. They were for me anyway so no harm done.” He speaks tired and just moves to gather the forms while a bright smile spreads across the boy’s face. “You see! I knew they were wrong. I knew you were kind.”

Jim just places the things on the desk before looking a bit surprised. He turns to face the small boy who was so unlike what he had ended up. Where he was cold and tired the boy was filled with energy and optimism. He wore his bright uniform like nothing could stop him and let his light hair poof out without a care in the world. Jim just sighed looking at him for a moment. “I’m aware. That’s why I’m letting you-” He gets cut off by the boy practically tackling him into a hug. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I just thought you needed a hug. You spend too long locked away in your office.” He grins and tilts his head up to face him. “When was the last time you spent time with anyone?”

“Yesterday, I leave my office at least three days a week.”

“Only three days?! Clearly you don’t talk to people enough. Unless you’re like me that is!” Jim manages to remove him from his side a bit irritated. “What does any of that mean? And who are you?”

“Oh, they didn’t tell you? I’m Neil but I just transferred here. I just thought maybe you talked to the robots… you seem like the type.”

Jim rolls his eyes before returning to his desk. “So you think I’m crazy then? If you’re here out of pity you might as well leave.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy. I do the same. Sometimes they get a bit confused so I try and help them. They just get lost with the directions here just like you and me!” Neil smiles even wider while Jim just hits the button to lock his door going a bit pale. “Neil, I need you to never say that ever again and nothing like it either.”

He looks a bit puzzled and starts looking at the different cracks in the wall. “Why not? I’m only trying to be nice-”

“You’re going to end up dead you know.” Jim states it bluntly like it’s not even a surprise horrifying the kid who responds by grabbing a form, rolling it up and bonking him in the head with it. “Will not.”

“You most definitely will and hitting me with paperwork isn’t helping your case.”

“But can’t you do anything? You’re Jim! You run this whole place. Just fix it.” He smiles to the other but Jim just unlocks the door before shoving him out. “I can’t just fix it you naive child…” He returns to his desk and just rests his head in his hands for a while to think. He had dealt with this sort of thing countless times before yet when it came to him it was different. In any other case he would have just resolved the situation without another thought but he didn’t. He wrote it off as a one time poor decision yet when tomorrow came the forms were still blank sitting upon his desk.

So it went for a while. Neil would show up all excited and bright and pure with wild tales of his missions and fond memories of his past teammates with hardly a second thought for things. Jim would offer guidance and advice.

“You smiled!” He just laughed running around the office. “I did not!” Jim just covers his face and looks away. “You did to. Now I know it is possible. You had me worried for a bit.” The boy just pulls him into another hug. Jim sighs before returning it and Neil laughs a bit more. “I knew you were a kind person still.”

“Still?”

“Well yeah, there were always rumors of you being nice a while back but it seems they have to be true! I still think they’re false though.”

Jim just lets go of him and returns to his desk. “And why’s that?”

“That implies you ever stopped.”

Jim just forces a laugh. “Alright, that’s enough of that. Head back to work.” The boy quickly darts out still smiling.

After a few moments of thinking to himself another person enters the room. He has a stupid grin and just goes to sit across from him at the desk feet up with a laugh. “Really Jim? Couldn’t do any better than a stupid kid that doesn’t know when to shut up?”

Jim just pushes his feet off the desk with a sigh. “Clearly I did as I’m not friends with you.”

“So cold, I figured you would have been warmer with all that fire I so graciously gave you.” He speaks so casually as if it was a light hearted chat on old games. Jim just stands back up. “You are to leave this office right now!”

“There’s the response I was hoping for! I thought you had given up there for a while after she died but clearly not! Welcome back to the living Jim. It’s good to have you in time for my next trick.”

“What are you doing this time?” He just heads over to the man in the chair attempting to maintain a neutral expression despite his concerns.

“Just some of your paperwork. You should thank me. You know how much I hate paperwork.” Jim just flips the chair and he tumbles out with a laugh before rising to his feet.

“Well, I have to get going. I don’t want to miss-” He abruptly stops when Jim just stabs him with his letter opener. “You aren’t doing that.”

Blake just falls to the ground with a small laugh. “You know… killing me doesn’t change a thing.” Jim just shoves him out of the way and goes to leave the office ignoring the laughs and comments as he makes his way through the building.

He followed the path through the weaving hallways as if he had done it a hundred times before until he came upon the room. Taking a brief moment to steady his breath he opened it and immediately knew what was going to happen. “Come to watch, Jim?” The monitor projects it’s soft voice. “You do enjoy these proceedings don’t you?” It speaks with no trace of malice despite the circumstances.

“Not today computer.” He just grabs Neil’s hand and practically drags the boy out of the room. The boy was in tears and beyond terrified. They both were. Neil had no idea what was going on and Jim knew far too well that the damage had already been done. He was going to lose him and there was nothing that could be done.

“Jim? Where are we going?” His voice is shaky and he just tries wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Away. It might not be the best place but I know it enough to try.” Jim forces a smile yet keeps on crying not even bothering to face the other. “I’ll make sure of it ok? Just trust me.” He just nods in response and keeps on following him.

The sound was deafening between the panic and the alarms but Jim just kept going seemingly lost in the situation until a familiar sound broke his trance.

“Oops! My bad! Gosh, how many times can I accidentally fire this thing?” Blake says with the same smirk as always and waving his gun about. “You know, it’s a miracle at times I even got this job! I’ll leave you to it though, you don’t want me ruining your moment do you?” He just laughs before walking off. Neil just collapses to the ground with Jim not far behind him.

With that he loses the last shred of composure he had and starts sobbing watching the other boy. He had failed yet again. He had opened up for a moment only to lose everything again. Niel just tries to pull himself up to hug Jim again. “Don’t cry so much Jim… I’ll be back soon ok? You know that.” Jim just nodded and cried holding the boy knowing perfectly well it was a lie. It’s not long until the two are out at that point.

“Good morning Jim.” He just looks around for a moment before realising he’s at his desk. “Sorry you had to deal with the mess with that pesky problem there. It’s been deleted though so you won’t have to see it again. I’ll send your new assistant tomorrow.” The monitor just shuts off with it’s familiar jingle and Jim just buries his head in his hands.

“Well, it was nice chatting with you again Jim. Aren’t you glad I promised to keep you around?” Blake just laughs before leaving the room.

“Guess it’s back to just me isn’t it?” Jim mutters to himself. “No… That’s not true. I’ll always have my work and the computer. That’s enough for me…” He just smiles and gets back to work turning his pages into smears of ink.

#asks #writing #jim

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withyouandthemoon · 6 years

Text

This has been sitting in my head ever since 5x06 aired. I guess you can see it as my little piece of footnote to some of the lines (one in particular) from the Klaroline scenes in this episode. Set around TVD 4x17, after Caroline killed the 12 witches (and Klaus dug 12 graves for her like the dutiful suitor that he was). Titled Creep because I’m predictable like that.

Creep

The man I met back then terrified me. I was intrigued, but I never felt safe. Or relaxed. Or myself really. –Caroline Forbes, The Originals 5x06

The days had long since passed when Caroline Forbes was still a fussy, irritable, normal teenage girl who was not a fan of the woods. Or the dark.

To speak the truth she was never the out-door type of person. Sure, it was nice showing off her perfect body clad in a two-piece bathing suit by the falls, or flirting with some random boy around a bonfire, but other than that she’d much prefer her own room with her comfy bed and comfy clothes. Or the mall, really.

To her the woods was downright boring-it was all trees and dirt. And the woods after nightfall just spelled danger. She was the sheriff’s daughter-she may not listen to everything her mom said, but she knew better than to venture into the dark wilderness on her own.

Yet right now, trudging through the woods in the middle of the night, she couldn’t help but feel that things had irreversibly changed. A feeling with which she had gotten quite acquainted ever since she became a vampire.

This was not the first time she had experienced the pull of the dark.

She had thought that the saying about vampires being “creatures of the dark” was only metaphorical, that it had only been that way because not every vampire had a Bennett witch as a best friend to make them a daylight ring.

But every night as she lay in her bed, the darkness outside her window rattling her sills, calling to her like the Pied-Piper’s tune, drilling into her pores and rousing a cold, crawling desire under her skin, she knew the saying to be true. She knew that it was in her nature to go out there and prey on whoever fell victim to the dark.

Most nights she just downed her bed-time blood bag and willed herself to sleep.

Not tonight though.

She had felt restless all day. She’d pegged it as stress over the whole Silas situation and tried to take it easy by skipping school and going shopping instead, but an inexplicable thirst was clawing from inside of her to the point where her fangs almost came out when she was standing near the sales girl.

And things only went downhill when night fell. Her vampire senses seemed extra-sensitive tonight, burning Caroline’s nerve ends with each and every signal they latched onto. Caroline swore she could hear the rapid heartbeats of every damned bunny in a five-mile radius, thump-thump-thumping like a stampede.

And every thump was luring her out. The longer she stayed in, the longer the night dragged at her-for a moment Caroline almost felt actual pain on her skin, and she wondered if that was what the darkness actually wanted-to tear her apart with the ridiculous urges and feed on her dead blood.

However, as her feet led her steps and steps closer to a certain point on the map, it dawned on her that it wasn’t the darkness that was after her blood.

Her own guilt was more like it.

As if to torture herself she walked over in a trance, from the first grave to the last. One, two, three…she compulsively counted the marks of newly-dug-up soil in her heart, until she reached twelve. No tombstones, no names, no flowers. Just the smell of already-rotting bodies and death.

Twelve graves for twelve witches.

Caroline shuddered involuntarily like the first time she heard those cruel words. Cruel, because they were true. She did this-for a friend, for herself, or just a misstep in the heat of the moment-it was her that drove the knife deep into the witch’s heart. The feeling of the blade cutting through flesh was still vibrating in her palm.

For reasons she couldn’t explain Caroline knelt before the twelfth grave and grabbed a handful of earth. She squeezed it hard until it seeped through her fingers like blood, a freezing sense of power whirling in her head.

“I’ve heard that revisiting their crime scenes was a typical behavior of perpetrators.” A voice behind her startled her out of the limbo. She could recognize that voice anywhere, especially when it had been replaying in her mind for a whole day.

“What are you doing here?” Caroline jumped up from her spot and turned around to glare at him.

Klaus smirked, “not reminiscing my most recent kill, apparently.”

Caroline sucked in a breath. She knew he was being purposefully harsh because he was still mad at her, but he had no right. “Only because there were too many you’ve lost track.”

“Well maybe I should gather them in one place to be massacred then.” He quirked an eyebrow, “sounds familiar?”

“Yes.” Caroline bit out, “because you already did that. With your hybrids.”

Klaus winced for a split second as if he’d been stabbed, flames flickering hot in his eyes like they always did before his attack. Caroline took an inconspicuous step back and bit down on her lips hard, bracing for the strike, which to her surprise never came.

Instead the smirk was plastered back on his face, “don’t be like that, love. We had a spat,” the corners of his lips turned a degree higher, “I’m over it already.”

Caroline eyed him suspiciously, her tone still cold, “repeating your own words doesn’t make them any more true.”

Klaus huffed, “something you should take into your own consideration.”

“What does that mean?” The shrill in her voice wasn’t supposed to be there but Caroline couldn’t help it. The answer was playing on mute in her mind like a horror movie and Klaus had to be the one to voice it out loud.

“Let me freshen up your memory, sweetheart.” Slowly and menacingly he paced towards her like a predator, his eyes fixing her to the spot, “less than twenty-four hours ago, less than two minutes’ run from here, you said, and I quote, ‘there is no allure to darkness’. And now…” he opened his arms wide, “here you are. Alone in the darkness, accompanied by the darkest of them all.”

Caroline’s hands balled into fists at her sides, but her voice was low and small, “I didn’t ask for your company.”

Klaus’ jaw clenched, his eyes roaming over her face as if trying to figure out the weakest spot to tear into. With one final step he closed the remaining distance between them and reached a hand into his jacket while the other grabbed her wrist. Caroline flinched at the touch, his fingers searing against her ice-cold skin, but his hold was surprisingly gentle as he pried her fingers open and wiped away the dirt with the handkerchief that he magically procured.

“What are you doing here, Caroline?” He eyed her from under his lashes, his tone turned almost soothing.

So soothing that Caroline was seconds from relaxing into his touch and pouring her right-now-too-fragile-to-her-liking heart out.

In a swift move she snatched the handkerchief from him and finished wiping her hand roughly, “none of your business.”

“It is if your actions play a part in my plans of defeating Silas.” Klaus furrowed his eyebrows, annoyed, “which you’ve already sabotaged by recklessly helping him complete the expression triangle.”

Caroline threw the handkerchief on the ground, her own tempers flaring, “you know, this wouldn’t even have happened if you didn’t just stand there like a statue!”

“What did you expect me to do?” Klaus shouted back at her, “kill the witches for you?”

Caroline snapped her mouth shut before the word “yes” rolled out of her lips, which were trembling from the cutting realization. The unvoiced truth was now burning at her throat, bringing unbidden tears to her widened eyes.

Apparently her face had said it all, as Klaus’ eyes turned cold, his lips curling into the shape of a sharp sickle, “I see.” His velvety voice somehow propelled her backwards and Klaus was quick to follow, each step and each syllable more intimidating than the last, “so it’s fine as long as your dainty little hands and your precious conscience stay clean?”

“No…” Caroline choked out but he didn’t seem to have heard her.

“After all I’m all rotten black, and what’s one more drop of poisonous blood to a sea of darkness, am I right, sweet Caroline?”

She was transfixed by his raging stormy eyes, unable to utter a word until the back of her knees hit something hard and solid. She numbly registered that it must be the big rock she sat on when Klaus was digging the graves for the witches.

The witches that she murdered.

“No! No, it’s not fine!” Her sudden outburst surprised Klaus into silence, but she was too far gone to notice, assaulted by the myriads of emotions erupting out of her, the sheer force sending her catapulting into a moment of chaos, “it’s not fine, if it’s me, or you, or anyone else! It’s bad and I hate it!”

She was hyperventilating by this point, her chest aching from tears, but not one drop leaked out. She felt like her whole heart was soaking in the salty water and she felt so, so thirsty. From the distance the heartbeats of some poor creature in the woods were still haunting her, thump-thump-thumping and it took all her strength to push the vicious craving out of her, its invisible little claws scratching the inside of her veins, leaving her hurting all over.

Feeling completely drained, she sat back onto the rock when she realized that Klaus had been quiet all this time. She looked up to find him studying her with an unreadable expression-it always irked her not knowing what all his weird, complicated, I-know-something-that-you-don’t looks meant, but this time she didn’t even have enough energy to care.

“Three massacres,” she threw him a wry smile, “crazy Professor Shane, you, me. I excuse none of us. So congratulations, I’m officially as bad as you.”

“I doubt you could share my ranking on the supernatural evilness leader board, love.” Klaus backed away a few steps to lean against the closest tree, arms crossed over his chest.

Caroline snorted, “I guess not. Or I wouldn’t be here, up in the middle of the night, visiting the graves of my victims.”

“So you think it was the guilt that drew you here?”

“Wasn’t it? I’ve been unable to concentrate all day, I couldn’t sleep, the memory of…of killing those witches kept popping into my mind. It’s clearly eating at me.” She shrugged a little helplessly, “that’s what you get for committing homicide.”

The smirk on his face grew wider, “we vampires have a complicated relationship with our preys, love.”

“What are you getting at?” Her stomach churned at the glint in his eyes and she quickly snapped at him.

“Well I’m just saying, that we aren’t in it just for the food. We also enjoy the kill.” He slowly licked his lips and Caroline’s eyes followed the trace of his tongue, the rich raspberry color discern-able even in the dark, “it’s thrilling, having the power to take someone’s life. To rouse fear and despair, smell it ripen in the air, and be the one to end it, whenever and however you want.”

The last few words were so soft and silky Caroline could feel them clinging to his tongue, their shape warping and molding as he liked until they finally reached her hearing and it was almost like his tongue was on her ears, making her shiver with want.

Klaus chuckled, and the sound seemed to be resonating in her own rib cage, “consciously or not, we all have our own ways to memorize it. Like a token of sorts.”

Caroline inhaled sharply, her voice but a whisper, “I’m not creepy like you.”

“It’s quite common actually.” Klaus raised his eyebrows tauntingly, “I’ll have you know that our dearest Stefan kept every single name of his victims on the wall of his apartment in the 20s.”

“Yeah, when he was with you!” Caroline jumped up, inexplicable frustration once again flooding her.

And Klaus had the audacity to smirk in her face, “I guess I just have a knack for making people embrace their nature.”

“It’s not nature.” Caroline glared at him, “it’s sick.”

The smirk finally disappeared from his lips as Klaus pinned her down with his intense eyes, irises glowing from suppressed anger, but hidden deeper was a trace of something akin to sadness, which Caroline disregarded as soon as detecting, “is that really how you see yourself, Caroline?”

To her credit Caroline managed to keep her accusing eyes on him, her lips locked into a thin line, her face perfectly stoic to mask the panic wrecking her inside.

He always did this. Dropping some preposterous nerdy questions to throw her off, to make her doubt herself and everything she’d ever believed in, to plant unrealistic ideas in her head that weren’t there all her life.

If she wanted to die.

If she missed being human.

…how she saw herself as a monster.

And as always, he had no right to stir up her already self-struggling mind.

“You know what? I don’t need you to psycho-analyze me and don’t you dare pull that ‘I’m gonna teach you to be a better vampire’ crap on me.” She marched over and pointed a finger to his chest, “pick someone else to be your pet project of My Fair Baby-Vamp!”

“Well, my fair Caroline,” Klaus smiled devilishly around the slowly-uttered words, his eyes growing a shade darker as he pushed her pointy finger down with one hand and took a firm hold of her waist with the other, “now I’m tempted.”

Before Caroline could protest they were flashing away to a clearing not far from there, and Klaus had a scruffy-looking young man pinned to obviously his own car when Caroline was still registering their surroundings.

“Pleasure meeting you, mister.” He was standing upright and relaxed, even bowing a little, and the civilized tableau would have convinced anyone if not for his right hand gripping hard on the man’s neck and the strangled screams that were squeezing through his crushed throat, “it would be nice if you stayed quiet for now.”

All voices were instantly gone from the young man as if someone had hit pause on him, an eerie silence falling on the clearing like the moonlight that was absent that night.

“What are you doing?” Caroline rushed over but was interrupted by Klaus shushing her.

“Listen.” He whispered by her ear, his breath tickling the skin along the side of her neck.

Caroline briefly wondered if she was compelled like the poor dude pinned to his car, because her own hyper-active senses followed his instructions immediately. There it was, in the drowning silence, that particular noise that had bothered her, disquieted her, called to her all through the night.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her sense of smell caught up even before her brain does, as her fangs painfully but eagerly broke out of her aching gums for a sweet taste of the warm liquid pumping through those veins that were just within her touch and she felt her face change. Caroline snapped her eyes shut and took long, deep breaths, trying to control herself like she’d done thousands of times.

Willing the hunger away was like hanging onto a cliff with the tips of her fingers. It was unacceptable to let go, but also impossible to pull herself fully up. The only way was to hang in there as long as she could, with every set of muscle and every shred of will power.

It was the single most brutal ordeal she’d ever had to endure-even worse than torture, because she had to deal with it every second of every freaking day.

Well, some times worse than others.

When she finally opened her eyes Klaus’ smirking face was inches from hers, a sadistic gleam to his eyes, “you see, sweetheart, every time you let the beast out of the cage, it becomes harder to shut it back in.”

Caroline felt cold all over, her breaths ragged and raw through her closing throat, “what do you mean?”

But she already knew what he meant, like she always did. She just didn’t know if it would be less disturbing to hear it from him, or herself.

Clearly tonight Klaus was in no mood to indulge her. With his eyes steadily trained on hers he reached a hand out and tore the young man’s chest right open, the blood splattering over the three of them as the man’s face contorted into a grotesque picture of extreme pain without sound, his legs giving out from the unbearable agony while Klaus held him up with his other hand still gripping his neck.

The smell of fresh blood permeated the air, but all Caroline could focus on was the sound of a beating human heart, doubled in volume, drumming in her blood-hazed head.

“You heard that all along, didn’t you?” Klaus licked the drops of blood which landed on the corner of his mouth, his own fangs baring, “deny it all you want, love, but you got wired from yesterday’s killing. You were drawn here not by guilt, but desire.”

No longer able to push back her fangs, Caroline hissed at him through the sharpness in her mouth, not caring if she cut herself along the way, the anger the only thing that was keeping her increasing urges at bay, “why didn’t you tell me in the first place? Why didn’t you-”

“What?” Klaus barked a laugh, “whisk you away? Save you from the beast inside you? Or should I say, the beast that you are?” He lifted a finger and stroked lightly under her eyes, grinning with fake-innocence, “now why would I do that, Caroline?”

Caroline batted his hand away fiercely, “get away from me!”

“Contrary to what you might believe, love, I’m not here to teach you, or save you, or corrupt you even. You need none of those.” Klaus stuck his chin out defiantly, and even in her unbridled anger and bloodlust Caroline was still momentarily distracted by his delicious jaw line, “you already are a true vampire. You are just fighting it. But guess what? That fight is a part of vampirism. Always has been.”

Caroline opened her mouth ready to protest, but couldn’t find the words. Her mind was turned upside down by his last words, and more importantly the accompanying look in his eyes of long suffering and ancient grief. A million questions crammed into her head like a whirlwind, spinning and hollering nonstop.

Had he fought against it? Was he still…fighting?

Sensing her confusion, Klaus on the other hand feigned surprise, “you think it’s pitch black in the darkness? Oh, sweetheart,” he shook his head and chuckled, the sound chilling Caroline to the bones, and for the first time ever she felt young and naïve in his presence, something that bothered her more than she would ever admit, “but don’t you see? It’s also the flickers of light struggling to resist,” he looked down at the young man whose eyes were already dimming from the blood loss, and carelessly sliced the side of his throat open with a lengthened fingernail, “and how they are suffocated to naught.”

The sight of the thin stream of blood trickling down from the wound played in slow motion in her vampire eyes and the temptation was overwhelming. Everything was red, everything smelled like blood and her eardrums hurt from the excessive heartbeats. “You are doing all this…just to prove a point?”

Klaus didn’t answer her question. His eyes were back on her, mesmerized and awed, the way they were when he showed her his precious art collection, the way they were whenever he was alone with her, when the rare silence took over their constant bickering and acting, “your face is beautiful like this, Caroline.” His voice was low and thick, dark and soft, like the night itself, “the veins…ebbing and flowing, like tides.”

She found herself inching forward, towards his voice or the man’s blood, she wasn’t sure. In the blink of an eye her hands were on the man’s shoulders holding him down, her lips mere breaths from the wound on his neck and she could already taste the stench of iron on her tongue. She could feel Klaus hovering over her at the side, his fingers threading through her hair, reminding her of the night that she fed from him.

The memory only fueled her thirst further.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Her breaths were coming out in tiny gasps as she held on to the last of her strength to restrain the bloodlust, “why me?”

Klaus lowered his head till his lips were mere inches from hers, the yellow light in his eyes burning her cheek, “so you’d rather I do this to someone else?”

Would she? Would she wish the amount of fear and struggle on another? Would she rather he took his intense eyes and gentle hands and hot breaths all away, to anyone but herself?

Caroline could no longer think straight. She couldn’t even tell which was closer-his perfect lips, or the beating pulse right in front of her.

Eventually her most primal instinct won over and her lips were on the open gash, warmed by the fresh running blood, every cell waking up from the satiating sensation. As she closed her eyes and let her fangs descend, she heard Klaus whispering in her ear, “you like it, don’t you?”

As if stricken by lightning she jerked back with a start, her whole body trembling from the backlash of the bloodlust being so drastically reined in. She glanced at Klaus, who had a half-smile on his blood-smeared face. The beast was still roaring inside her, clawing and scratching without care, and Caroline’s voice was weak but final, “doesn’t mean I have to act on it.”

With that she flashed away as fast as her tired legs could carry her. In her wake she could vaguely hear the sound of Klaus tearing into the man’s flesh and feel his eyes burning into her back all through her retreat, but she failed to see that his lips landed on the exact spot that hers had grazed seconds ago.

Maybe she’d never know.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #kc drabbles #kc fic #my fic #my drabble #yay me for getting it done before 5x07 #i was feeling depressed these past few days and at least this made me feel better #crappy or not i'm still writing #which is better than the other things in my rl #z writes

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deepestwonderlandcloud · 3 years

Text

Tatli Ask (Sweet Love) (Can & Ozge) - Chapter Six: Fill The Void

"Hi, Can."

Can laughed and helped Ozge stand up. He looked at her intently, as if not believing she was actually here.

"What are you doing here?" Can asked.

"What does it look like I'm doing? Of course, I'm eating dinner," Ozge said, defensively. "What about you?"

"I'm having dinner with my mother," Can said. "Who are you with?"

"Devrim, my best friend," Ozge said. "Well, I have to go back to my table, so..."

"I'm going back as well," Can put his phone in his side pocket.

Ozge nodded, and they went back to the outside dining area together. Ozge came back to Devrim already eating. She sat down, ate her lobster, casually taking glimpses of Can and his mother.

He's awfully nice tonight. Was his dinner that good or something? Whoa, his mother is so beautiful! She looks like she could be my older sister, honestly.

***

As Can talked to Guldem, he caught Ozge looking at them through his peripheral vision. He chuckled as he watched her spill her water on her dress, while drinking and looking at them.

"What's so funny, son?" Guldem asked.

"Nothing, Mom," Can smiled. "Shall we go? I already told Halis to wait for us by the entrance."

"Let's go," Guldem said, standing up.

Can stood up as well, fixed his shirt, took one last look at Ozge and left.

***

Ozge watched as Can and Guldem left, kind of hoping Can said goodbye to her before leaving. It was weird. It felt like she missed him. And she was glad she saw him tonight. Ozge shook her head, consigning to oblivion the thought of missing Can.

Ozge, get it together. Why on earth would you miss that jerk?

Devrim looked at Ozge inquisitively, observing her nervous demeanor.

"Are you okay?" Devrim asked, stabbing the crunchy fish fillet.

Ozge looked at him, as if waking up from a trance. A trance named Can Yaman.

"Yeah, I'm good," Ozge said. "Let's finish this quickly so we can go home. I think I wanna take a long rest to clear my thoughts."

Yeah, that's it. I just need some rest. Nothing like a good ole rest to take my mind off that jerk.

Ozge ate her meal quickly, trying not to think about anything else.

***

Can watched the tall, colorful buildings of downtown Istanbul, smiling. His mind was somewhere else. Quite specifically at the Mikla restaurant where he heroically caught Ozge just in time before she slipped.

Whoa, Can. Why are you thinking about Ozge? Get yourself together. It was just mere coincidence. I mean, what are the chances of her going to Mikla as well, the same day and time as you?

Can cleared his throat, focusing on the buildings outside. Istanbul looked beautiful at night time. The air was clear, the sky was, well, not raining the very least, and it as windy. He missed this. No other place could give him homesickness other than Istanbul. He loved the feeling.

If Demet was here, she'd be glad to be back in Istanbul too.

Can tried to imagine Demet. Her face, her features, her laugh, but this time, it was blurry. He couldn't really see her face. He tried to imagine the time they slow-danced. He failed. Instead, his mind drifted off to Ozge, and the feeling of her in his arms. He caught himself smiling. It was like he missed her. And seeing her tonight was all he ever needed to get going. Like her mere presence was enough to fill the void that was inside him.

"You look happy," Guldem said.

"Just really excited for Strawberry Place and my new investment, Mom," Can said.

"I'm happy for you too, son," Guldem grinned, then she turned to Halis. "Halis, please drop me off at the office. I have to meet with a few people before I go home."

"Certainly, Mrs. Yaman," Halis responded.

Can was still looking outside when his phone rang. He took it out. It was from Yildirim Iscan. The lawyer he hired to investigate Demet's death.

"Yes, Yildirim?" Can said. "Any updates?"

"Sir Can, I have been trying to get more information from the Sofia Police Department but they only give me minimal report. What I did find so far was from the car that Miss Demet was found. Apparently, the bumper and headlights were damaged almost beyond recognition, and there was red paint on the dents, of Miss Demet's white car. Another car crashed on Miss Demet's that night, which resulted to her car falling off a cliff to the river," Yildirim said through the phone.

Can's eyes widened. "What? Does this mean---"

"Exactly, Sir Can. Someone else is responsible for her death."

Can felt his heart drop at the information. He thanked Yildirim and told him to keep him posted for new information.

Demet was killed... Demet's killer is out there still... And that person has been getting away with it for three years!

Can's good mood was replaced by anger and hatred. He clenched his fist, trying to calm himself down. Guldem put a hand on his shoulder.

"Son, calm down. We will give justice to Demet's death," Guldem said, trying to comfort Can.

After dropping Guldem in her office, Can went home, heart heavy once again because of Demet and the new information he just received. He looked at their photo, their engagement photo, and tears welled up in his eyes.

I'm gonna find your killer, Demet. And I promise I will make sure they will go to jail. I will give you the justice that you deserve.

***

"Mom, is it possible to miss someone you just met?"

Ozge asked Perran as she sat on their balcony, petting their dog. Perran went to the balcony with a plate of Boreks, and put it in the table in front of Ozge.

"Why do you ask?" Perran said, taking one and sitting down beside Ozge.

"Nothing... I was just curious," Ozge said, trying to not think about Can.

"Well, I guess it's possible..." Perran said, chewing a Borek. "I mean, if you feel a deep connection with that person at first glance... I guess you might. Why? Did you meet someone special?"

"What? No!" Ozge exclaimed.

"Alright!" Perran laughed, putting her hands in the air in surrender. "By the way, I invited our new client for dinner tomorrow night. Don't be late, okay? Dinner starts at 7 PM."

"Don't worry, Mom. I'll be there," Ozge said, taking a Borek.

"I'm excited to meet this new client."

0 notes

fraysbanes · 4 years

Text

never let go

Characters: Luke Garroway, Magnus Bane, Clary Fray, Alec Lightwood, Jace Lightwood, Simon Lewis, Isabelle Lightwood

Relationship: Clary Fray & Luke Garroway, Clary Fray & Magnus Bane

Rating: G

Summary: alternate 3x12 and 3x13 reunion scenes

Warnings: implied/referenced character death, implied/referenced stabbing

At first it’s just a glimpse of portal-wind-blown red hair and trembling arms and she’s so close - so within reach - that Luke begins to wonder if it was too good to be true after all.

Then she turns to them and their drawn weapons and screams, “ don’t shoot! ” and the world collapses around Luke. Collapses so it can build itself up again, the right way this time. Collapses so she can fix it.

His body is tense, like it is before he transforms, and he feels such intense relief that he thinks he might collapse - or actually turn - because she’s here , and she’s alive , and she hasn’t left him yet.

Clary screams as the blade rips into her her flesh, making Luke jolt out of his trance and focus on the mission again. Jonathan (and dear god, that’s Jonathan? That’s Jocelyn’s little boy?) yells something and activates his speed rune as he runs away. Alec and Jace chase after him, but they all know it’s useless: he’s faster than they are, they don’t know where he’s going, and they can’t hurt him without hurting Clary.

Clary looks up, blinking tears of pain from her eyes, and looks right at Luke. Relief floods her face and she smiles at him for a moment before she looks away again to pull the knife out of her leg with a pained grunt.

Next thing he knows, he’s at her side, holding her under the arms to support her weight on her uninjured leg. Jace calls his name and tosses him something. Luke catches it - a stele. He hands it to Clary to activate her healing rune with. He watches the pain disappear from her face, slowly but surely. She blinks blearily up at him like she can’t quite believe he’s here.

And even though he never once doubted that she was alive and waiting for him to find her, Luke knows exactly how she feels.

“Luke-” Clary starts, but is instantly cut off by him pulling her into the biggest hug he’s ever given another person, her words getting muffled into his shoulder.

It takes her a moment to shake off the shock and hug him back. But when she does, it’s like she never wants to let go. It’s an awkward angle for a hug, half-kneeling with Clary’s leg still soaked in blood and Luke shaking all over, but he wouldn’t exchange it for anything in the world, and he doubts she would, either.

He begins to speak, voice trembling from the onslaught of emotions. “I thought I’d lost you.” And he had - for only a few brief, horrible hours that felt like a lifetime before he decided, no, she’s not dead, she can’t be dead, I’m going to get her back , he had thought he would never see her again. “I was so scared something had happened to you…”

“I’m sorry,” she gasps into the hug, tightening her hold on him. She sounds close to tears.

God, Luke thinks, she must have been so scared.

“Don’t apologize,” he says, and realizes he’s actually crying. “You did nothing wrong. But please- don’t leave me again.”

He feels her nod against him and wraps his arms even tighter around her. He doesn’t want to let go. If he does, she’ll slip out of his grasp again. She’ll go away again. She’ll get hurt again.

“Luke?” Clary laughs lightly into his shirt. “I kinda can’t breathe.”

I couldn’t breathe when you weren’t there, he thinks. But he says, “Sorry, kiddo,” and slowly loosens his grip and lets her pull away.

His place in her embrace is replaced by Jace, who’s laughing almost giddily, tears streaming down his face, before she’s even registered that he’s there.

“Jace?” she mutters, then throws her arms around his neck and says his name again, more softly. He pulls back to cup her face with both hands.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” Jace says. “I can’t believe I’m actually holding you.”

She smiles at him. “I’m here,” she assures him. “And you are.”

“Clary,” his voice cracks. “Clary, I am so sorry. About everything. I-”

That’s when she steps back, breaks the hug. “Not now,” she says. Her voice is kind, but strained. “We can talk later, okay?”

The Paris Institute gives Clary a change of clothes and provides a portal for them back to New York. They don’t ask Clary a lot of questions about the dead Shadowhunter, and she appreciates it. Right now, she just wants to get home and sleep and forget all of this for just a little while.

She’s confronted with the rune in the mirror as she’s changing and is reminded that that’s not going to be possible.

She meets Alec in the room the portal’s supposed to open up in.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” he says. He looks tired, but smiles at her anyway. “I should’ve known you couldn’t be that easy to kill.”

Clary laughs. “Guess you’re gonna have to get used to me,” she shoots back lightly.

“I guess there are worse things in the world.”

A moment passes, and Alec’s smile disappears. Clary immediately fears the worst - no one has told her what happened after Lilith’s banishment yet. If Alec looks happy to see her, that means Izzy and Magnus are okay. But Simon-

The last time she saw him he was being flung out of a penthouse. Only because he agreed to go through with her plan. If anything’s happened to him…

“What’s wrong?” she asks Alec before she can picture any of the horrible things that could have happened to Simon.

“I texted the others to meet us at the Institute. Simon and Izzy don’t know you’re…you know, alive, yet.”

Clary didn’t realize she’d stopped breathing at the thought of Simon being hurt, but she’s thankful to have oxygen back in her lungs again.

“But, listen,” Alec goes on. “It’s Magnus.”

And she’s not breathing again.

“He’s lost his magic. So just don’t bring it up.”

“Oh my god, how-?”

They’re interrupted by Luke and Jace’s arrival, followed by the Parisian warlock whose portal they’re using. Luke takes her hand and, as soon as the portal opens, they step through it together.

“Magnus!”

At the sound of Alec’s cheery voice, Magnus halts his nervous pacing in the Institute’s hall and turns towards him.

“Look who’s here,” Alec says. But he doesn’t need to say anything. Magnus couldn’t miss her if he tried. Not with the way she bounds in, alive and well, red hair flying behind her with her quick, happy steps.

He thinks of her at six years old, with wide eyes and trembling lips. At eleven, with a long ponytail and paint under her fingernails. At thirteen, sketching on his couch while he and Jocelyn argued in hushed voices in the kitchen. Sixteen, asking a thousand questions and making him feel worse and worse about taking her memories with each one.

Eighteen, a rune on her neck and a sword in her hand, promising him that they can do this, that everything will be okay.

He was right to believe her.

“Hi!” she greets with a bright smile. Magnus doesn’t respond - just engulfs her in a hug so tight and sudden that the breath gets knocked out of her. Clary laughs at the suddenness of it. “Yeah,” she says softly, rising on her tiptoes to hug him back as best as she can. “I missed you, too.”

Magnus swallows around the lump in his throat before pulling back to look at her - really just look at her for a moment. She looks a little pale and disheveled, but that’s probably nothing out of the ordinary. He’s probably just noticing it more because he’s worried about what’s happened to her in the week ( has it really only been a week? ) she’s been gone. Allegedly dead .

But she’s not dead. She’s alive and he’s holding her and she’s clutching his arms like she knows how badly he needs to feel the pressure against his cold skin. It makes him forget about how crazy everything is and how little time he has left for a moment.

“I more than just ‘missed you’, biscuit,” Magnus says. “What happened? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Clary shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. It’s a long story. I’m magically linked to my evil brother and I stabbed myself in the leg, but all’s well that ends well, right?”

“I’m…going to need more detail on some of that.”

“Honestly, me too.”

They share a short laugh just before they’re interrupted by-

“Clary?”

It’s Simon, frozen at the other end of the room, trying to decide if he should believe his eyes or not. Jace nods and Simon starts to run . Magnus swiftly but reluctantly lets go of Clary to step out of his way.

Simon skids to a halt in front of her, looking her up and down before pulling her into his arms. When he pulls back, his eyes are filled with tears. “Am I dreaming?” he asks.

“No,” Clary promises.

“I’m not?”

“No.”

Magnus watches with a smile on his face and Alec’s hand on his shoulder as Clary laughs when Simon picks her up in his arms and spins her around. Isabelle walks up to them, a disbelieving smile on her face, and almost shoves Simon in her eagerness to hold Clary herself.

Magnus’ eyes drift to Luke to find him looking truly alive for the first time since Clary was arrested in Idris. Magnus doesn’t know exactly how Luke must be feeling - all the pain and denial and hope and relief he must have experienced in such a short time - but he knows what it’s like to lose the people you love. It feels like having a piece of your heart ripped out of you, again and again every time you remember they’re gone.

He turns back to Clary.

He’s never gotten a piece back before.

#c: luke #c: magnus #c: clary #c: alec #c: jace #c: simon #c: izzy #r: clary & luke #r: clary & magnus #r: clary & simon #canon compliant #SORT OF #canon divergence #reunions #family feels #friendship feels #fluff #canon-typical violence

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its-love-u-asshole · 7 years

Text

Slipping Underneath [Ch. 1]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukishima was in some deep shit he realized, but common sense told him he should have been rather happy about the discovery he'd just made. Of course, that didn't stop him from freaking out.

"Tsukki? Did something happen?" Bokuto asked.

Dejected, the blond lifted his head, giving Bokuto the flattest stare he could manage. "The neighbor downstairs hates my voice."

Rating: T

Tags: soulmates, mythology/sirens AU, some iwaoi and bokuaka thrown in bc why not, first meetings, fluff, Kuroo is a nerd and Tsukki can’t help but be charmed, Siren!Tsukki, Siren!Bokuto

Note: Yes, I know I started another multichapter, I’m sorry, please forgive these sins of mine. I couldn’t resist a sirens/soulmate AU tho?? I had the sudden inspo and ofc this was born, enjoy! <3 Big thanks to @allykat023 and @emeraldwaves for reading this over!

AO3

The first time he heard the voice, it was because he'd been marooned on the patio of his apartment. His apartment. It was almost more degrading than when he was sexiled to the common room of his freshman dorms. He was a third year now though, this was his own property damnit.

When Kenma had decided to move into a place with Hinata, Kuroo had been forced to room with a certain overly social setter. He liked Oikawa, he really did. Well, when he wasn't being too dramatic or nosy anyways...

They got along fine, great actually. It was only when Iwaizumi visited from his university every other weekend that Kuroo found himself setting up camp on his spacious, yet boring as hell balcony.

At least the glass was thick enough to drown out any noise...

Kuroo shuddered, remembering the time he'd ventured inside for a glass of water, walking past Oikawa's bedroom...

Yeah, no. He'd learned a lot since then, had come a long way from his days as a young fool (three months ago). Now he prepared his food and drink ahead of time, almost like he was going on a picnic. This way, he never had to hear those...sounds come from Oikawa's room ever again. Even worse, Kuroo was not about to deal with Oikawa's smug face in the morning, knowing he heard everything. At least Iwaizumi had the decency to be embarrassed and smack Oikawa across the head.

So yeah, patio.

It sounded crappy, but despite the loud sex Oikawa seemed bent on having, Kuroo didn't really mind being relocated for a few hours. It gave him time to study, since he was without television or outlets. It was exactly what he needed, and he could count on those nights outside to get all his coursework done for the following week. It was a brutal study session, but it was worth it. While everyone else struggled to catch up on assignments during the week, he could go out, and play video games to his heart's content. Oikawa said he needed to get laid; and while it might've been true, Kuroo wasn't compelled to actively look for a partner right then. If something happened, it happened.

So when the usual Oikawa and Iwaizumi sex marathon finally came along one fateful Saturday night later than usual, Kuroo swore it was fate.

Kuroo had taken his usual chair on the patio, satisfied the weather wasn't too muggy for once. Perfect for studying. He had set out all his highlighters and pens, ready as ever for a night of expert note taking, but as he sank into the chair's cushions with his psychology textbook sitting on his lap, he'd heard it.

And oh how he wish he hadn't.

The melody, if it could be called that, invaded his space, punching his ear drums. The pure horribleness of the voice as it sang was enough to make his head shoot up, his ears straining and begging Kuroo to get away. It was awful enough to make him wonder if someone could die from it. The voice was bad, if he was being nice about it; and oh, he was really trying to be nice about it. But it made his brain melt, and all thoughts of studying disintegrated in favor of escape. Even the sounds of Oikawa getting pounded into the bed were a better option than this torture.

Kuroo almost felt guilty. After all, this was just some random soul who wanted to sing on their balcony. Kuroo had no say in it, and it wasn't like Kuroo's voice was anything to brag about. He should just grin and bear it, but...

Jesus fuck.

How could he possibly work through such a horrid sound?

It was a guy's voice, that much he could tell despite the screeching quality of it. As Kuroo stood to try and find the source though, he became confused. There was no one on either of the balconies beside his, and every second the song persisted, the harder it was to trace it. It was like the sound was all encompassing, coming from every direction at once, burning Kuroo's ear canals and twisting his insides. How was no one else hearing it?

There were quite a few guys loitering around down below the apartments, but they looked like they were having a fine time, blissful even.

Where the hell...

Was he getting pranked?

The song continued as he searched, the rough tones pulling Kuroo like a magnet even though his ears were probably bleeding. Oh well, he still had his eyes. Maybe the price of hearing aids had gone down...

Focus man!

Kuroo groaned, trying to employ the problem solving skills he'd spent years cultivating.

Eventually, and mostly because he couldn't take it anymore, he figured the only place it could be coming from was above him. There was one floor up after his, and since the apartments were dirt cheap, there was hardly any space between them. Risks be damned, Kuroo jumped up without hesitation, grabbing hold of the higher balcony's railing and using his strength to pull himself up. It might've been stupid, and shit he definitely could've fallen to his death. However, that song would drive him nuts and kill him anyways if he allowed it to continue.

Please...make it stop...

Kuroo groaned as he found his footing, easily hooking his legs over the rails after doing so. He was out of breath, and he dared not look at how high up he was or think about how the fuck he was going to get back down. He'd made it. He'd figure the rest out as he went.

As soon as he'd plopped down on the railing, the banshee screeching had ceased, and Kuroo thought he was gonna cry in relief.

Thank god.

Wiping the sweat on his brow, Kuroo looked up, scanning the small patio in seconds until his eyes finally landed on the apartment's inhabitant.

And wow, what a sight.

The blond was frozen where he stood, watering can in hand as he moved to rearrange a pot of tulips, one leg stretched out awkwardly in front of him like he'd been mid-step.

Even in such a ridiculous pose, Kuroo could say the blond was nothing short of stunning. Long legs, pale skin, and warm, golden eyes hidden behind black frames.

He was breathtaking, and Kuroo almost refused to believe such an awful sound had come from such a beauty. Kuroo felt his protests and excuses die in his throat, partly from the fact he was standing in front of a god, and partly because his position did not look good.

Here he was, in stained sweatpants and a sweatshirt, looking like some pathetic second rate burglar while his runway model neighbor seemed two seconds away from running.

It would've been hilarious, had the blond not looked like he was debating on whether to stab Kuroo with the nearby trowel before he left.

Somehow, the thought of a death by garden tool shook Kuroo out of whatever trance he was in, because he managed to find his voice a few seconds later.

"Okay," he began, gradually stepping onto the patio, his ears ringing from their previous abuse. "I know this looks bad, but your singing--"

All of a sudden, the blond groaned, his scowl powerful enough to kill a weaker man. Fearlessly, he grabbed the trowel--called it--and held it up in Kuroo's direction, the threat clear. Come closer, die.

It should not have been as hot as it was.

"How many times do I have to tell you people I'm not interested? Fuck off," the blond hissed, his annoyance clear. Although, given the situation, he was a lot more composed than Kuroo expected. If this was how the other responded to break ins, he was a lot better off than he and Oikawa.

The blond lowered his voice to a mumble, speaking almost to himself rather than to Kuroo as the awkwardness between them intensified. "To think not even living on the top floor helped..."

Huh?

Okay, Kuroo had to find his voice right then and there, lest he be charged with trespassing.

"Um wait, I can explain," Kuroo said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I was just--ha, I was trying to study...I live below you by the way so uh, hey there. I'm Kuroo Tetsurou."

Kuroo grinned, hoping his charm would help to win the other over, but all it got him was the most unimpressed stare he'd ever seen. The blond's eye twitched in irritation, his aura just as menacing as before.

Yet still so pretty.

"I don't care who you are, get off my balcony," the other demanded, not letting up on his threatening pose.

Kuroo sighed. Today really wasn't his day. To think he couldn't reassure people as well as he used to...

He'd really have to work on his debate skills if he wanted to pass his public speaking class.

"Ah okay, okay! Sorry, I'll leave. I just came up here because your singing...it was a bit distracting and--"

"I don't want a boyfriend," the blond deadpanned, his scowl deepening.

Oh wow alright, that's random.

Kuroo shook his head, trying to decide what was the next best course of action, considering none of what he wanted to say was getting across. Better just to be upfront about it.

"Um okay, me neither. I mean, I'm not opposed, and you look...wow but shit wait--" Kuroo went on uselessly, and he was getting pretty damn tired of tripping over his own tongue. Not cool. Groaning up to the sky, he clasped his hands together, fixing the blond with the sternest look he could muster. "I just came to ask you if you could please stop singing. It’s making it hard to study, and I need to get this work done."

Kuroo said it so fast, he was worried the blond didn't hear him, especially from the way silence seemed to descend on them again, the other blinking at him in shock. Ah shit, there's the guilt.

The thing was, Kuroo couldn't justify himself beyond that. It wasn't that the singing was just distracting, it was downright terrible, but he was way too nice to come out and say it. He prayed the other would stop without asking too many questions.

The blond's face contorted several times, each expression no less attractive on the other's face, no matter how displeased they were. From shock, to anger, and then back to shock. The other's face eventually settled on pure confusion.

The silence was moving into painful territory now, and Kuroo thought he was was better off retreating to his own apartment, Oikawa's atrocious sex moans be damned.

The blond blinked slowly, his hands lowering until the trowel fell to the floor, the loud clang echoing into the night air. "You...want me to stop singing?"

His voice was bland, cold, but Kuroo could pick up on slightest note of disbelief in there too. It made him wince. Great, this was what he'd wanted to avoid. He had to be careful now, the last thing he wanted was a neighbor who hated his guts.

"Yeah...sorry. I mean it's not like I'm a music critic or anything I mean--"

"Why?" The blond's question was sharp, straight to the point, asking the question Kuroo desperately didn't want to answer. Kuroo only prayed this guy wasn't too sensitive about this kind of thing. He didn't want another ex-theater kid lecturing him about how he couldn't recognize true talent. Been there, done that.

To be blunt or to lie...

Damn his own morals. "It wasn't to my tastes...I guess?" It was so painful I wanted to rip my ears off. "But I'm sure it definitely is to some people." Demons. "I for sure can't sing so--"

"You thought it was bad."

It was less curious and more certain, like an observation, and Kuroo started to feel a bit uncomfortable (and maybe weirdly excited) under the blond's gaze. Those golden eyes might as well have been boring into his soul, searching for...well, he didn't know.

Kuroo swallowed. "Well--"

"Yes or no."

The irritation from the blond was more than noticeable now; and whatever, Kuroo had already botched this whole encounter. "Yeah, it...it wasn't great."

So much for getting this guy's number. Kuroo felt himself deflate a little, expecting the other to start coming at him with much deserved insults. Only, it didn't happen. At all.

The blond nodded his head slowly, and Kuroo's fully recovered hearing picked up on his shaky exhale. Kuroo thought he could read people pretty well based on their mannerisms and expressions, but he didn't have a clue what any of that meant. It was like the blond was shocked, but trying his damn best to not show it.

There was another beat of tense silence before the other seemed to snap out of his daze, his scowl returning tenfold. Kuroo stopped breathing.

"Fine, I'll stop. Can you leave now?"

Kuroo blinked, exhaling all at once as the blond turned his back to him. It was a clear gesture, one Kuroo had no problem reading, and yeah...he'd overstayed his welcome.

Definitely not getting that number.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Thanks..." Kuroo trailed off stiffly, sparing the other one last glance and noticing the tenseness of his shoulders. The guilt was back again, but Kuroo knew trying to fix the situation now wouldn't help. He'd apologize properly some other time.

Turning his attention back to the railing, Kuroo scaled down the balcony back onto his own, his thoughts filled with nothing but his neighbor's face for the rest of the night.

This was not good.

Tsukishima stared at the wall as the cake on his plate sat untouched, piping exquisite and begging to be devoured. To think he was actually too distracted to eat dessert. Yeah, not good at all. Absurd too, stupid even. There was no reason for him to be freaking out.

In spite, he glared down at his cake, picking up his fork before stabbing the soft sponge and shoveling a good half of the piece into his mouth. Motherfucker.

The cake tasted sweet, moist with rich frosting and just the right ratio of sponge to cream. It embodied everything he could've wanted from a dessert, and yet his face still set itself in a sour expression.

Tsukishima stomped his foot on the floor, as if it would somehow affect the neighbor below him. The one with the atrocious bedhead, the cause of all his problems.

Annoying.

"Tsukishima, is something wrong?" Akaashi's smooth voice, calm and expectant--because yes, he probably knew there was indeed something wrong--forced Tsukishima out of his thoughts.

Tsukishima glanced up to the kitchen island where Akaashi sat, his posture far too elegant for someone wearing owl patterned sweats. It didn't stop him from being observant though. Tsukishima probably should've been more careful about it; but at the same time, he knew the other would find out eventually.

After more prolonged silence, Akaashi prodded further, knowing it was usually the only way to nudge Tsukishima. “Because you know you can tell me.”

For some reason, it made Tsukishima sigh into the space between them, knowing he’d have to get this off his chest if he wanted to stay sane. Plus, there wasn’t any harm in it.

Tsukishima kept his friend group small yes; but that also meant he held a decent degree of trust for each of the people in it. Akaashi was the best person to go to with these issues anyways, since he tended to be the most rational.

Yamaguchi always shed a good light on things, but he was away at another university. And besides, the freckled boy tended to lean more towards an overly optimistic approach which Tsukishima wasn't too fond of pursuing at this point. He had to be sure first, and even then...he didn't owe anything to anyone.

Setting down his fork, Tsukishima fixed the other with the most neutral stare he could manage, lest he give anything away too soon. Tsukishima clenched his fists, his dull nails managing to leave imprints in his palm. This was humiliating, but he needed to know.

"Akaashi," he began, steeling himself as he willed away another scowl. "Would you mind...listening to me sing?"

The other's grey eyes widened considerably, an unusual event when considering Akaashi's calm nature. “Oh, well…”

Yeah, Tsukishima knew the question was unexpected. He didn’t blame his friend for the shock.

Tsukishima hated singing. It was his least favorite thing to do, if it made the damn list at all. Not to say he didn't love music, but singing was a different story. It attracted attention, it brought unwanted advances. He associated singing with everyone's eyes on him, and he loathed it more than anything. Yet, he couldn't help but sing. It came so damn naturally to him, to the point that sometimes he wasn't aware he was even doing it until someone came up to him.

Or climbed his balcony.

Ugh.

That was the thing...

At the end of the day, he didn't have a choice but to sing. He could very well die if he didn't. That's what happened to sirens.

Cursed with fatally beautiful voices, ones which used to lure men to their deaths centuries ago, sirens both thrived and withered due to their gifts. And of course, Tsukishima happened to descend from a community of them. He blamed his mother.

He had been a siren since the day he was born; and his voice had reached maturity sometime in high school, a powerful weapon. Or well, it would've been, had he not lived in the 21st century. Being a siren was pretty useless now, apart from getting hordes of guys to do the occasional bidding, or for winning singing contests.

In addition to his virtually unnecessary gift, being a siren came with a lot of difficulties. If he didn't sing enough, he'd grow sickly and die; and if he sang too much...he could lose his voice completely.

The former was generally what afflicted his kind in the modern age though. And despite his dislike for singing, it wasn't a problem. Tsukishima had grown used to singing in the privacy of his own home to keep healthy.

However...this issue was a new one, one he'd hoped to never deal with. Being told his song wasn't calming to the human ear...it worried him.

If a siren's voice was no longer pleasing to humans, it meant the siren could be dying.

Tsukishima's pulse sped up at the thought, his future goals and achievements flashing before his eyes as he willed himself to not jump to conclusions. He wouldn't panic, not until it was confirmed.

Akaashi was a human, one who knew about Tsukishima's predicament. He'd be honest with him.

Tsukishima took a few more deep breaths, feeling the anxiety subside a bit as he forced himself to make eye contact with Akaashi again.

If his balcony hopping neighbor thought his singing had been anything less than perfect and ended up being right, it could be Tsukishima's life on the line. That or it was the alternative, the only other explanation for his singing being atrocious, and Tsukishima refused to entertain that idea without eliminating the other options.

God, kill me.

"Sure," Akaashi began, stunned at Tsukishima's request. "But, why do you--"

"Hey hey!" Bokuto's voice boomed through the humble apartment, the door frame rattling along with the wall as he slammed the door shut. "What's goin on?"

Ah, great.

Akaashi lit up at the sound of his boyfriend, although it was mostly undetectable to anyone who wasn't used to the other's subtle facial changes. To anyone else, Akaashi probably looked bored, but Tsukishima could see him practically glowing.

They were disgusting.

Regardless, even Tsukishima couldn't deny the fact they were hopelessly in love. He'd known Bokuto since childhood, having grown up in the same small community of sirens in their hometown. Bokuto was just like him, albeit way more optimistic in nature. Tsukishima didn't think he could possibly grow any happier, until he'd met Akaashi.

Tsukishima couldn't complain then either, since he'd grown rather close to Bokuto's boyfriend as well.

Tsukishima watched them as Bokuto's hand slid along Akaashi's arm, both of them comfortable with the touch, leaning into each other as if no one else existed in the world.

The peaceful expression on Akaashi's face remained up until Bokuto started to hum in contentment, a habit he had never managed to break. Then the setter's nose was scrunching up in distaste, his eyes flashing as if he'd been struck.

Ah, and there it was.

Akaashi clutched Bokuto's shirt with unrivaled insistence. "Koutarou--"

Bokuto snapped out of his daze, kicked from his reality while the guilt washed over him. He'd gotten better at being mindful, but well, it was a siren's instinct to make music. He was bound to slip up once in a while.

Bokuto cut the humming, and he cradled Akaashi's face in apology, placing a loud kiss to the setter's cheek while Tsukishima focused his gaze on the cracks in the table.

Again, disgusting.

Bokuto's voice radiated nothing but sincerity as he pulled away. "Sorry Keiji, I forgot. It wasn't that bad was it?"

"Mm," Akaashi said, and he shook his head, his smile somewhat amused. "It wasn't. You stopped."

Bokuto fist pumped at the accomplishment, looping his arm around Akaashi's shoulders after he'd fully relaxed. His eyes were back to their normal brightness, the concern gone. "Yes! Soon I'll have that down!"

Tsukishima rolled his eyes along with Akaashi, but it was full of fondness.

"Anyways, what are we talkin' bout?" Bokuto slouched further into his chair, his wide eyes homing in on Tsukishima's unfinished cake. "Obviously there's a reason you haven't devoured that."

"Tsukishima wants to sing for me," Akaashi said, tone concerned in a way which made Tsukishima feel silly for actually bringing his issue up. Maybe he was overreacting. "Why--"

"Tsukki," Bokuto hissed, standing up so quickly Tsukishima flinched, his golden eyes focusing in on the blond with an almost predator like accuracy. "Are you trying to seduce Keiji?"

The silence between them would've been comical had Tsukishima had any patience for Bokuto that day.

Are you serious?

Sensing Tsukishima's growing murderous intent, Akaashi jumped in, soothing his boyfriend with a touch to the shoulder. "Koutarou...I doubt that's what's happening."

"But--"

"Oh for fuck's sake," Tsukishima said through gritted teeth. "Can you just listen to me sing? I'll explain after."

Bokuto's sharp gaze morphed into puppy dog eyes in a flash, his mouth forming a pout as if he'd been told he'd be sleeping outside. Tsukishima didn't necessarily like making Bokuto feel bad, after all, they'd grown up together. He was used to Bokuto, found his mannerisms to be rather endearing even, but Tsukishima couldn't take any more interruptions.

To say he was freaking out was an understatement. He had to know what was wrong.

Akaashi's brow furrowed, the concern clearly there, and he nodded. Bokuto must've also sensed the rapid mood change, since he sat down without much complaint, eyes never leaving the blond's.

Well, here goes.

It had been years since Tsukishima had sang for an audience, even for Bokuto, one of his own kind, but he couldn't get shy now. Taking a deep breath, Tsukishima closed his eyes, letting the words flow out of his mouth until he spun a melody all his own.

"Take my hand, come towards the sea, and with every wave, you'll be safe with me. Don't fear the crash, don't mind the rocks, just know I'll guide you past it all."

The notes formed, slow and sure, and the orchestra in Tsukishima's head began to pick up, the assigned parts and instruments knowing exactly where to jump in, where to fit. This song he knew better than any other, had let it travel and burn itself into his soul. The song flowed, the notes amplified. Sometimes they faded into nothingness, lost in the sea of music he created.

And really, this was what he did love about singing at the end of the day. Not putting people under a spell, not enticing men to do his bidding—though in his high school years it had been fun. No, it was the melodies and magic of the song itself. It calmed him, washed away any troubles until he was like the barren shore. Peaceful, cool, but so alive beneath the surface.

Even someone like him, with his rationality and cynicism couldn't deny any of that.

This he could do forever, but his time might've very well been up, and the thought cruelly brought an end to the lightness in his chest.

Tsukishima ceased, clearing his throat as he opened his eyes. Akaashi hadn't asked him to stop the whole time, so he assumed it was a good sign, but who knew. Sometimes Tsukishima got too lost in his own music, he wouldn't have noticed. Maybe it was so bad, the raven had left the room in agony, or--

"Tsukishima."

His eyes snapped up to meet Akaashi's, catching the sight of dilated pupils as Akaashi came down from the high which sirens could elicit. The haze was still there, the spell just barely starting to undo itself. Akaashi shook his head rapidly, attempting to snap out of it for good.

Bokuto sat next to him, pouting with his arms crossed. Baby.

"Sorry, I feel like my brain turned off for a second there," Akaashi said, holding a hand to his head as his mind began to work again. "I'm not sure what you're worried about though. Your singing is as good as ever, as I'm sure you could see from the effects..."

Tsukishima sighed audibly, uncaring of what his friends thought. He slouched in his chair, the tension rolling out of him. He wasn't dying. His voice was appealing to humans. Nothing about it had changed, and he was going to be okay. His life wasn't over.

Tsukishima felt his relief for about two more seconds before the panic set in. The other panic, the one which came from the alternative reason he had to be worried about his voice.

His singing was fine; it had the same effects it had always had. It was enticing, alluring even. The only human who thought otherwise, lived right below him.

No.

That guy, his neighbor, with his untamed hair and impressive strength. The one who had no qualms about trespassing on someone else's property, the one too polite for his own good.

He had hated Tsukishima's voice. He had been physically pained by the sound of it, and that only meant one thing. Tsukishima wasn't an idiot, he knew. He'd been warned about this all his life.

He'd fucking seen it happen. At the thought, his eyes shot up to Bokuto and Akaashi, looking between them like a starved animal.

Oh no. No. No, nope, not happening.

Bokuto turned to his boyfriend, the peeved expression having never left his face. "Hmph, I can sing just as good Akaashi! I--"

"Yes, yes," Akaashi cut Bokuto off with the softest of smiles, though the amusement was apparent. Tsukishima couldn't take any joy in it, or return the smile Akaashi threw him. "I'm sure you can. Too bad I'll never know."

And it was true. Akaashi would never think Bokuto's singing was anything but atrocious, torturous in fact. Such was the way of a siren's soulmate. The one person who couldn't stand a siren's song was the person they were meant to fall in love with.

I'm going to be sick.

"It's not fair! Tsukishima doesn't even know what it's like," Bokuto ranted, unaware of the internal crisis going on right across the table. "I can't wait til he meets his soulmate, and they think his singing is awf--"

"I don't have a soulmate," Tsukishima said, his voice sharp. He'd been unable to stop himself. He couldn't help it. The realization was barely settling in, boiling inside him. It couldn't be. It was a mistake. "There's no way...."

His neighbor was not his soulmate. It wasn't possible. They didn't know each other at all, Tsukishima had no idea if they were compatible in any way, shape, or form. And while Tsukishima's brain unhelpfully pointed out how it was that way for most people, Tsukishima was bent on finding any reason to nullify this new finding.

This guy had just had hearing issues...or something.

Tsukishima put his head in his hands, knowing he was being childish at this point. He heard Bokuto's chair move, a sign he had gotten up, and seconds later he was most definitely crouched at Tsukishima's side, radiating warmth.

"Tsukki? Did something happen?" Bokuto asked, and it was so unbelievably caring, Tsukishima couldn't take it.

Dejected, the blond lifted his head, giving Bokuto the flattest stare he could manage. "The neighbor downstairs hates my voice."

Saying it aloud hit it home, and Tsukishima's body sagged in defeat, his stomach swirling in irritation and...something else he didn't want to think about. He didn't get butterflies. That was not happening.

Despite the part of him which continued to hope this was all a misunderstanding, he already knew how this would go down from Akaashi's shocked expression and Bokuto's excited cheering. This problem was not going away.

Not by a long shot.

It wasn't until Tsukishima was getting his mail the next morning that they met again.

"Hey there," Kuroo said, leaning against the mailboxes with no qualms about keeping a reasonable distance between them. Tsukishima jumped slightly, slamming his box shut a bit too loudly for the hour, stunned by the intensity of the other's eyes.

Well, that and whatever was going on with his hair.

Tsukishima debated walking away without responding, but he felt like this guy wasn't the type to let something like this go. He'd climbed a damn balcony after all; he was obviously capable of being quite persistent if he had something he needed to say.

"Morning," Tsukishima muttered, focusing on the various bills and letters in his hand instead of falling into the trap of the other's stare. It was shockingly difficult, and it pissed him off more. He wasn't supposed to like this guy, despite every other indication that he should. Tsukishima was a stubborn asshole sometimes. If this guy was so special, he could prove it to Tsukishima the old fashioned way. The blond refused to make it easy.

Yet, there were some things he couldn't ignore. Tsukishima used pushing up his glasses as an excuse to sneak a peek at the other every now and again, and yeah fine, he was handsome. Broad shoulders, strong physique, a teasing smile...

It was irritating for a variety of different reasons, but mostly because Tsukishima couldn't find it in himself to hate this guy, a complete stranger.

"So look," Kuroo said, his easy going posture taking a turn towards awkward, embarrassed even. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats, rocking on his heels. "I'm sorry if I offended you the other night. I seriously didn't mean to, it wasn't my--"

"It's fine, it doesn't matter," Tsukishima said, his tone brisk. He tried not to let the flush rise to his cheeks, but he felt like he'd lost that battle from the way Kuroo grinned at him. And well, it was true. It didn't matter. Tsukishima was stubborn, but he wasn't about to blame Kuroo for something he couldn't control. Tsukishima's voice was truly painful for him, and he couldn't resist wanting the pain to stop.

The fact Kuroo actually apologized for his rudeness despite that made Tsukishima's stomach flip, a pleasant tingling traveling up his spine. Tsukishima looked up at Kuroo fully then, causing him to flush in a much similar fashion.

God. This was stupid.

"Ah well, cool. Great!" Kuroo cleared his throat, rifling a hand through his hair. Cute. "Because since we're neighbors and all, I wanted to make sure we...got along."

"Oh?" Tsukishima arched a brow, and he felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards involuntarily. "I didn't realize we were school children."

Kuroo faltered, his eyes widening as if he were a child, and Tsukishima had to hide his smile behind his hand. "Oh, well--"

"And it's not like we're roommates, so there's really no requirement for us to get along," he continued, keeping his voice as level as possible, almost bored. What he said was true after all, but he also just wanted to give the other a hard time. Again, Tsukishima was not going to make this easy. This was who the fates had given him as a soulmate, the one who they thought was there to bring out the best in him. If he couldn't handle this, then Tsukishima would know the universe had made a mistake.

Tsukishima wasn't the easiest to impress. He had high walls which took a fair amount of time to climb over, but it wasn't an impossible feat.

As much as the idea of soulmates intimidated him and made him skeptical, he wouldn't push away a connection if there was meant to be one. He'd grown a lot from his standoffish, cold high school days. He had Bokuto and Akaashi, as well as his family, and he cared for them immensely. However, those connections were natural, not forced.

He'd accept nothing less from anyone, not even his predestined lover.

Kuroo stared at him for a second too long in Tsukishima's opinion, analyzing him. He was fairly shameless about it too, considering the few times Tsukishima caught him glancing below the neck.

Kuroo knew it too, from the way he smirked, slow and leisurely. He knew exactly what he was doing, making his flirtiness clear. What a dork. This side of him had been absent when he'd climbed Tsukishima's damn balcony. Although, he'd said Tsukishima looked "wow," so that was a good indication.

Tsukishima felt his cheeks heat up more, and he cursed himself. So unacceptable.

"What if I want to get along?" Kuroo asked, and wow did he wink at me. He fucking winked at me.

"Then maybe you shouldn't have broken into my apartment."

"Hey! It was just the balcony."

"Trespassing."

"I'm a model citizen."

"Leaving the scene of a crime."

"You asked me to leave!"

"And who will the police trust?" Tsukishima shrugged, not bothering to hide a smirk of his own now that he had Kuroo floundering. It wasn't everyday he found someone who he could banter with so smoothly. Kuroo was downright ridiculous though.

"You're evil you know that?" Kuroo's grin betrayed his words as he spoke, and Tsukishima neither confirmed nor denied the accusation. "Wouldn't have expected that from someone with tulips on their back porch."

Tsukishima grunted while Kuroo laughed at his own joke, all too amused with himself. The laugh wasn't full bodied, but it rang genuine regardless, the sound weirdly sweet to Tsukishima's ears whether it was at his expense or not. Kuroo wiped fake tears from his eyes, prompting an eye roll out of the blond.

"Nah, I'm sure gardening is a menacing field. Ha, get it. Fie--"

"I heard it the first time, please don't make me hear it again."

And with that, Tsukishima walked off, all too aware that he was probably now running late for his first class. He glanced over his shoulder, something tugging at him to turn around and look at Kuroo once more.

It was the first of many mistakes. Kuroo was smiling at him, way too fond for someone he'd just met, dopey almost. It stopped the blond dead in his tracks, his breath stalling abnormally. That look...it was neither fair nor logical in any form.

"Hey, what's your name? I don't think I ever asked," Kuroo said with a soft laugh. "Too busy trespassing and what not."

Tsukishima paused, biting his lip. Normally, he wouldn't give the information away, simply because he didn't know Kuroo too well. But part of him felt the weird inevitability surrounding the situation. Not that they'd end up being anything meaningful to each other, but that this wasn't the last time they'd meet.

"Tsukishima Kei," he answered, surprised there was hardly any hesitation there. It was as if it was natural, intimate even, giving Kuroo his name.

So silly honestly, but the fact didn't erase the feeling. Especially not when Kuroo was smiling at him so openly.

"See you around then, Tsukishima."

The blond didn't answer as he turned, but from the way heat traveled to the back of his neck, he figured he didn't have to.

#kurotsuki #kurotsukki #haikyuuwriters #haikyuu!!#adri writing

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thederailedtrain · 5 years

Text

The Mark of Oblivion: Loose Ends [Two]

The Great Lawn was oddly still before people flooded in. With dawn breaking on the horizon, Cedric could see signs of the battle that had just taken place. Nymphs and dryads worked together to mend the sod where it had been torn, regrowing patches that still bore scorch marks, and hiding any other evidence. By the time the park opened in the morning, no mortal would be any the wiser.

But Cedric had a hard time imagining anything else. He stared out across the field to where Layla had made her grand entrance. Her presence still lingered in the air around the Great Lawn like the heavy morning fog. Cedric kept a wary eye on that spot, as she’d return the moment he looked away.

Nine hundred years had dulled the edges of his memory. Before last night, when Cedric remembered Layla, he remembered her power. But he hadn’t remembered just how powerful she was. And now that he’d seen a display of her strength again, he found himself recalling all kinds of other things from the last time he’d faced her. The biggest thing was the fear. The overwhelming hopelessness that came from facing insurmountable odds and-

“Alright, Kubrick stare,” Toni called, her voice breaking Cedric out of his trance. “I didn’t just teleport our asses all the way uptown for no reason.”

Cedric turned back around to glare at her, only to find Toni already walking in the other direction. He jogged a couple paces, but said nothing once he’d caught up. His eyes were fixed firmly in front of him, Cedric could feel Toni staring up at him.

“So I heard a little rumor when I was still working for the other side that Mill’s your former boy-toy,” Toni began, grinning up at Cedric. It looked like she was about to say something more, but she didn’t get the chance.

Anger coursed through Cedric, hot and blinding. “Don’t call him that,” he spat, shocked at how loud his voice had gotten. Cedric took a calming breath. He wasn’t in a place where he felt like offering a full explanation, much less an apology, but he definitely owed Toni something. “I didn’t...I never used him.”

“I never said you did,” Toni muttered, brow creasing.

Thankfully, that was as far as the conversation got. Toni’s transference spell had been pretty location-accurate for not knowing which part of the lawn they were looking for in advance. They only had to follow the presence of magic a couple hundred feet before finding exactly what they came here for.

When Cedric entered the clearing, he felt another jolt of panic at the memory of the last time he was here. It wasn’t as strong as the looming anxiety over Layla’s resurrection, but it was there. He’d faced death in amongst these trees a few hours ago. It was only natural.

The fact that Alvaro and Mill were in almost the exact same positions as he’d left them only intensified the memory. Alvaro had an arm up, channeling his binding spell. Meanwhile, Mill had decided to sit down and was brushing his fingers lazily through the what sparce grass he could reach. He looked up at Cedric’s entrance and the pair hastily looked away from each other.

“Oh, thank the gods you’re here,” Alvaro said, gaze firmly locked on Mill. Cedric didn’t need his empathy to tell him how exhausted Alvaro was - he could hear it in his voice.

“How long have you been channeling this spell?” Cedric asked, voice soft with concern.

Alvaro spared a quick glance at his watch, letting out a mirthless laugh when he read the time. “Oh, about two hours now.” Before Cedric could apologize, Alvaro added, “Can I stop sooner rather than later?”

“Seconded,” Toni spoke up. Cedric blinked to clear his focus, then shifted his gaze to Toni. “This guy’s not a Harbinger - not the way I am, at least. The rest of those guys had no idea where he was after the battle. But now that I do…Well, you might want to head on back to your shop soon.”

Right, Cedric sighed. This place could be swarming with Harbingers any second. “Think you can make back to Vestibulum Venenatis?” He asked.

“You used chaos magic to get here, right?” Alvaro fired back. The silence was all the answer he needed. “Then, no. Definitely not.”

Well, that didn’t leave them with too many options. Cedric’s mind spun in circles. Would Toni be able to transfer two people and herself while still holding onto a binding spell? And then continue to channel it while they figured out some way to bind Mill semi-permanently at the shop? Dammit, Cedric wished he had Kira here too.

“There’s another option I don’t think you’ve considered,” Toni said. Her hushed tone and the conspiratorial look in her eye sent Cedric’s thoughts spiraling. She didn’t mean… “Come on,” she continued, dropping her voice so low even Alvaro couldn’t to hear it from several feet away. “I know you’re not above bending the rules every once and while.”

Cedric flushed with both anger and chagrin. Toni’s statement wouldn’t have hurt so much if it didn’t also ring true. And as much as he hated the easy way she saw straight through him, Toni was probably the only one on the team he felt comfortable showing this side in front of. There was only one stipulation.

“I can’t,” Cedric whispered so that Alvaro couldn’t overhear. “Not to Mill.”

Toni’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh, I was talking about my binding talisman. The one I hit you and Kira with that one time. Remember?”

And the one he never managed to get back from her. In any other circumstance Cedric would’ve...Well, he didn’t have time to think about that now and he was running out of options. “Go,” Cedric nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Toni when he said it.

“Ooh, I knew I liked you, Mr. Warden,” Toni smirked before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke.

It was Alvaro’s voice that brought him out of his steepening guilt spiral. “Cedric, what are you…what are you going to do with him?”

“Well, it’s not just for me to decide,” Cedric replied. “Mill’s a member of the Council. He betrayed all of us when he chose Layla’s side, not to mention all the other crimes he’s committed since then. We’re going to need a proper trial to sort it all out.” He glared down at Mill, but the nymph didn’t look up. “Until then, I’ll keep him under my supervision.”

“Great,” Alvaro strained through a smile. He switched his stance, holding his other hand up. His breathing was heavy.

The guilt came flooding back, and fast. “Hey, Alvaro,” Cedric spoke up. He got a hum in response. “Why don’t you head home?”

“Y-you sure?” Alvaro stammered. “I can keep this up until that Harbinger gets back.”

“You’ve done enough already,” Cedric assured him, placing a hand on Alvaro’s shoulder. “Please get some rest. I don’t want you to strain yourself any further.” And I don’t want you to see what happens next…

Alvaro didn’t need much more convincing than that. He waited until Cedric started chanting before dropping his arms. A second later, the witch fell to his knees, breath coming out in harsh gasps. Out of the corner of his eye, Cedric could see him shaking.

“Do you need any help getting home?” Cedric asked between verses of his incantation.

“I can just…call a cab,” Alvaro managed. He struggled back to his feet.

Once he was standing again, Cedric could feel his stare on him. Alvaro was hesitating, trying to figure out how to say goodbye. Cedric didn’t blame him. If he could speak, Cedric would let him know it was alright; he didn’t know what to say either.

“I, um,” Alvaro began before changing gears again. “I’m glad you’re alright…Blessed be.” All Cedric could do was nod back to Alvaro as his form disappeared through the trees.

It didn’t take long for the situation to wear down on him. Cedric’s magic wasn’t made for weaving spells the way Alvaro’s was. Within a few minutes, Cedric could feel himself waning. Not that he would’ve made it particularly long on a good day, but the earlier battle hadn’t left him with much.

Even worse was the company. The wounds from his earlier match with Mill were still fresh, and Mill seemed determined to give him the cold solder. Maybe Cedric wasn’t the only one with guilt weighing on his conscience - not that he particularly wanted to talk with the man who just tried to stab him either.

Between the heavy silence and the drain of the spell, Cedric found himself begging for Toni to make a quick return. Thankfully, she didn’t let him down. Cedric had only just started counting each repetition of the chant when he felt the presence of chaos magic at his side. He had just started verse eight by the time Toni was fully corporeal.

Instead of a snappy introduction like Cedric had been expecting, Toni was silent. He spotted something out of the corner of his eye that she was passing back and forth between her hands. There was a shift in the magic next to him, then he watched as Toni threw a small object underhand. It sailed towards Mill, changing course in midair, as if drawn in by a magnetic field.

Mill jumped, realizing what was happening a second too late. The small wooden cylinder was already between his wrists, locking them in place. Cedric could see the runes carved along the talisman begin to glow, the energy spiraling outwards and around Mill’s wrists like a pair of magic handcuffs. He flinched at the heat Cedric knew the spell emitted, but didn’t otherwise resist.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Cedric finally stopped chanting. “You shouldn’t have that talisman,” he said, lungs burning with the effort he’d just exerted. “If you’re going to commit to our side, you have to play by our rules.”

“Yeah, yeah. Put it on my tab,” Toni waved him off. There was a solid five seconds of silence before she added, “Well? Aren’t we bringing him back to the shop?”

Cedric rolled his eyes, but she was right. He walked over to Mill, picking up the crystals he had dropped earlier while Toni helped Mill to his feet. As tense as he felt in this silence, he could also feel Toni’s amusement at the same time.

“Alright,” Cedric said, pocketing the crystals and placing his hand on Toni’s free arm. “Let’s go back to the shop.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let the darkness wash over him.

When Kira had warned Gus to buckle in for this one, she meant it. Medieval history didn’t make many appearances in casual conversation, so Kira didn’t get to break out her thesis research often. This was one of those rare chances.

It was only recently that Kira decided on the topic of her master’s thesis; reconciling early Christianity and traditional folk belief in medieval Britain. Her advisor’s eyebrows nearly flew off his face when she proposed it to him. (He’d been her professor for the infamous “Myths and Superstitions” course, after all.) But it wasn’t like she could explain her sudden interest in the occult, so she told him about a primary reference on folklore she’d come across that sparked her curiosity. Not entirely a lie - Cedric’s old journals had been fascinating.

In the last few months, this thesis had been Kira’s primary focus. Well, aside from preventing the apocalypse. The persecution of certain folkloric traditions - and, by unwitting extension, Otherworlders - was something Kira knew a lot about. Of course, she couldn’t write about how this period of history had informed Otherworld exposure laws in her thesis. She could, however, explain them to another Otherworlder.

Gus sat, rapt with attention. During a tangent about medical practices, Kira realized that this was Gus’s world now too. He just didn’t have the benefit of lessons with Cedric and Markas was probably more focused on werewolf lore.

“So why is the Otherworld still so strict about exposure?” Gus asked as Kira was winding down. “This was hundreds of years ago. Shouldn’t laws change with the times? People are a lot more accepting these days, you know.”

While Kira knew where he was coming from, she couldn’t quite agree with him. There were several arguments she might’ve gone with, but she was tired and grouchy. Instead, she just fixed him with a stare. “Are they?”

It took a moment for the wince to fully cross Gus’s face. He looked like he was gearing up for a response, but Kira found herself turning instinctively towards the doors at the back of the shop. Gus seemed to notice a second later, angling his own body to face the entrance. Whether he picked up on the sound or smell first, Kira couldn’t be sure. For her, it was the sensation of chaos magic nearby. Dark, cloying, familiar.

Cedric burst into the room without a word, a grimace deeply set into his features. He was determinedly pushing Mill ahead of him while Toni trailed behind. They made it halfway up the stairs before the Harbinger looked back over her shoulder.

“Well?” She asked. “Aren’t you gonna help with this?”

The two friends exchanged a glance before moving at the same time. Kira made it to the stairs first, Gus close behind.

Even without sensing him, Kira would’ve been able to follow Cedric as he made his way up to his apartment. His heavy footfalls were audible from the other end of the shop. She wasn’t sure where exactly he was headed, but he was headed there fast. By the time they finally made it to one of Cedric’s spare bedrooms, Kira almost needed to catch her breath.

His first words upon entering the room seemed like a non-sequiter at first. “Gus, get the succulent out of the room,” he directed. “And the ficus.”

While Gus did as instructed, it clicked; Cedric was removing Mill’s ammo. Then he turned his gaze on Mill, eyes flashing. This was the first time Cedric looked at him since they’d gotten back, Kira realized. Mill met his glare with a level look that quickly wavered. He was the first to look away. Cedric didn’t as he continued speaking.

“When your bindings are removed, you will not attempt to escape. You will not attempt to attack us. You know there’s no way out for you now and your sentence is already weighty enough.” Cedric said it like a cop speaking to a perp they’d just caught. Maybe this was some kind of Otherworld Miranda Rights. “Do you understand?”

Mill said nothing, only nodded.

“Good,” Cedric nodded back exactly once before turning to Kira. That spark of anger was still in his eyes, and he had his Warden-posture on, but his words were softer. “Kira, do you think you can bind this room using your specialty? No getting out, no magic.”

A neutral magic barrier? Well, it didn’t sound too hard, particularly for such a small room. Kira gave him a hopeful shrug.

“Okay, when you’re ready, let us know,” Cedric said. Gus walked back in, only for Cedric to gesture for him to leave again. He motioned to Toni and began heading for the door as well. “Once the ward is in place, Toni’s talisman should lose power. Kira, you’re going to need to grab it and throw it to Toni through the barrier to make sure no one else gets hit with its effects.”

Toni’s talisman? Kira’s brows furrowed and she looked back to Mill, finally noticing what she’d failed to spot until that moment. Her heartbeat picked up at the familiar sight. “Is that-” she cut herself off, turning back to Cedric with wide eyes. “I thought you said those were illegal in your Ward!”

Before Cedric could say anything to defend himself, someone else spoke up. “Hypocritical, isn’t it, Cartacos?” Mill asked, turning all eyes to him. “That we should both consort with Harbingers and I am the only one who will pay for-”

“We are nothing close to the same!” Cedric bellowed.

The room fell silent as his words echoed in everyone’s minds. This was not the kind of anger Cedric typically reserved for his former lover - the simmering, heartbroken betrayal. This was a raw and fresh rage. Kira wondered if, whenever he looked at Mill, Cedric could see the moment he’d nearly died by his hand. That was her own experience.

Cedric took a breath to calm himself, but the anger was still in his voice when he spoke again. “Don’t you dare conflate the two of us. What matters isn’t the tools we use, but what we hope to accomplish with them.” It was a thoughtful statement - almost poetic - but a lot less convincing when Cedric couldn’t look anyone in the eye to say it.

He still hadn’t recovered enough dignity to face Kira to give the go-ahead. All Cedric could do was gesture. Kira was almost grateful. She was afraid she wouldn’t recognize the man staring back at her.

But they had more pressing concerns. Kira would have to table her own introspection if she was going to help the Otherworld at large. And it was going to take a lot of focus if she wanted to pull this spell off. This was something she’d never done before and she was exhausted in every way imaginable. Distractions of any kind weren’t something she could afford.

Kira closed her eyes and tried to dredge up all the remaining magic she had. There wasn’t enough within her to accomplish the spell - she already knew that. She would have to rely on ambient magics to help her with the rest. Good thing the shop was crossed by so many ley lines.

The moment Kira opened herself up to ambient magics she realized her mistake. She was more than familiar with the sensation of spells shattering and seals breaking. It came with the neutral magic territory. But when it was a seal that she was so closely connected to-

Fire erupted in Kira’s chest and she gasped, eyes flying open. She clutched at the area above her heart. The searing pain only increased and she stumbled, grimacing. Catching herself again, Kira closed her eyes and willed the incoming flow of energy to reverse. No, no, no, she thought as the magic burned in her veins, not right now.

By now, the other occupants in the room seemed to catch onto what was happening. “Bloody hell,” she heard Gus mutter just as someone else asked, “What is it?” That was probably Mill. Everything was hard to make out over the thrumming of the magic.

Kira forced her eyes open and sent a panicked look at her allies. The men were all frozen in various mixtures of fear, indecision, and confusion. Toni was the only one moving, glancing between Kira and everyone else. Those three emotions were present on her face, but they were masked with a thin veil of annoyance.

“Shit,” Toni hissed. She broke away from the rest and headed right for Kira, who was currently trying to stay upright as the Mark threatened to burn another hole through her chest.

Before Kira could understand what was happening, Toni had thrown an arm around her. The force of the impact caused Kira to take a step back. Instead of meeting solid ground, however, the floor dropped out from under her feet. She looked up just as tendrils of shadow wound themselves around her. The last thing she saw before the chaos magic swallowed her were the looks on her friends’ faces.

Then everything went black. A feeling of falling into darkness, not unlike the kind she had in dreams, overwhelmed the pain radiating from Kira’s heart. It was over a second later and she found herself standing on the concrete floor of the shop basement. She only had time to blink before Toni was disappearing in a cloud of mist and shadows once more.

Kira was alone and not a moment too soon. A sudden surge of power ripped through her and the following explosion blinded her with light and magic. Her cry of defeat became one of frustration and purpose. She would not let this new magic overwhelm her twice in one night. She was not going to die in the shop’s basement.

How had she done it before? A shell- a protective shell of neutral magic. The screaming, both inside and out began to fade into a hum as Kira bathed in the comforting light of her neutral magic. She let out a long exhale, finally opening her eyes once more. She surveyed the damage. One more light fixture had been blown out in the latest explosion, but that was it. Not as bad as the last time.

Exhaustion was quickly catching up to her. Kira placed her hands on her knees and focused on breathing normally. That same night, she’d stood in this basement, surrounded by every willing member of their Ward for the largest battle she’d ever faced. Or maybe it wasn’t the same night anymore; it hadn’t seemed that dark out the window of Cedric’s spare bedroom.

How long had she been awake by now? Kira didn’t know. Would she ever be able to sleep again?

The sound of approaching footsteps halted her train of thought. Kira looked towards the door and stumbled back to her feet. She gathered the strength to call out and let the person know it was safe to enter, but the door flew open first.

Cedric didn’t hesitate, running down the stairs the moment the door was open. He was alone and, based on what she could sense, Gus and Toni were still upstairs guarding Mill.

Before she could even finish the thought, Cedric was standing in front of her. A steady stream of questions poured from his mouth, and maybe an apology or two as he worried over her. Kira could hardly keep up, nodding along every time he asked permission to touch her or move her neckline over to check the progress of the Mark.

Did it really have to take almost dying for Cedric to be this comfortable in close proximity? Kira thought amidst it all. He smelled like sandalwood; she’d nearly forgotten.

“Kira?” Cedric was calling her name once her attention found the present once more. “Kira!” She let out an annoyed hum, not looking forward to Cedric yelling at her a third time. His features softened in his hesitation between calling her name and deciding what to say next. “Are you...are you okay?”

“I’m-” Kira started out of habit, but stopped herself. She really wasn’t fine, was she? And there was no point in lying about it.

How did she feel, though? It was taking every ounce of her focus to see through the dazed fog that had settled over her mind. She had found a new layer of exhaustion she’d never experienced before. She was sick with worry over a man she’d learned only hours ago was her father - not to mention the Otherworld as a whole. Then there was the overwhelming fear of herself and the power placed in her hands. And something like relief at the sensation of Cedric’s fingers brushing her hair back into place.

Kira said none of those things. They bounced around her mind, dancing together in a jumbled mass she couldn’t string into words. There was one strand of thought from earlier, however, that she kept finding herself coming back to.

“Cedric,” she said, her mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t think I can sleep.”

#writing #my writing #the mark of oblivion #n: the mark of oblivion #katie writes sometimes #the magic shop

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