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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 1 year

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heorte til heorte: ch. 1 — hopian (to hope)

notes: this is self-indulgent. this is also angsty, like, really angsty. it’s not even funny at this point. does it get better? maybe. but this is athelstan related, so it’s going to hurt. inspired by the fact that i love to put my oc into situations oh and also jack <33333. can be read as a standalone, but it might be a little confusing at the start :]

warnings: violence, age gaps, miscarriage, death, a lot of hurt and grief. no one starts out happy. ngl, i aged down athelstan bc i thought he was like 20 when he got kidnapped. he’s around 26 in this opposed to his regular 32 (??!!).

summary: alethia wanted to go home, to return to her family. instead, she finds herself in ninth-century england. not speaking the language, and still processing the grief of her other life, she searches for an anchor - athelstan.

tagged: @levithestripper @demon-of-the-ancient-world @leithdragon @grantairescurls (hesitantly tagging u for our shared love of athelstan)

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Alethia

Alethia watched as Brayden disappeared through the portal, his small figure swallowed by flickering-static air. Her eyes flickered over to Kinvara, who mumbled in High Valyrian under her breath, holding the portal open.

She wanted to go home. God, Alethia wanted to go home so badly. Jon was dead. Sansa had blackmailed her. The war was done, and she did not want to raise a child in Westeros. There was no need for her here.

“Can I go too?” Alethia asked quietly, looking to Kinvara. Suddenly, she was not the Dowager Queen of the North who was carrying the future King in the North inside of her. Suddenly, Alethia was fourteen again, alone and afraid at the edge of the world.

She wanted to go home. Her heart ached as she thought of Earth, where she’d firmly believed she hadn’t had a home. Alethia wanted to sneak out of school for lunch and buy something to eat from the deli two streets away. She wanted to go on holiday with her brother, spend the days lounging in the sun and swimming. She wanted to be anything but a governor for the North, a widow at just eighteen years old.

Barely visible, Kinvara nodded. The portal flickered again, and Alethia swallowed her fear. She was going home.

It took three big steps to cross the room, and another to walk through the portal.

Alethia closed her eyes and waited. The first thing she noticed was that it was cold. If she’d kept track correctly over the years, this would be around New Years Eve in New York. She was wearing Mereenese clothes. Still, she was afraid to open her eyes.

Instead, Alethia took a breath. The second thing she noticed was that the air did not smell like it would in a city, and certainly not in New York. It was then that she had to open her eyes and her heart dropped a little.

At first glance, this forest looked just like those in the Riverlands. Marshy, muddy grounds made her feet sink into the earth a little and fog danced on the horizon. And yet, instinctually, Alethia knew this was not Westeros.

She took a few more steps, a few more breaths, and then, it clicked. Alethia had lived in England, spent almost two years in London and her holidays South of it. A laugh ripped from her throat as she stretched her hands towards the sky. Thunder rolled in the distance, and almost as if it was divine destiny, rain began to fall onto her face. Alethia let it christen her.

Yes, this was England. She was home, on Earth.

Alethia spun in the forest, and now, she was truly fourteen again. She laughed almost maniacally, closing her eyes again as the rain ran down her face. God, she was home. She was home! She was going to see her little brother! She was going to go home, to New York, find Eric, and hug him so tightly that she would never let him go again.

She would apologize to her mother, for never understanding her sacrifice. She would hold her, thank her. And when she was done, she was going to figure out how to catch up on three and a half years of her life. Morgan was here too. She would help her.

The sun was gone, but one look at the moss on the trees was enough for Alethia to know where South was. All she needed to do was keep on walking in one direction, and she’d find humans. She remembered the skills Qhorin Halfhand had taught her, applying them in a way she never imagined she would.

The mud tugged on her boots, and the rain made her shiver, but in that moment, Alethia could not care. She was home, home, home. A hand brushed over her stomach. Her child was safe.

Alethia continued walking, right until the forest began to clear. And with it, the rain lessened. Half, Alethia tried to listen for the sounds of a road or even a highway, while the other half of her told her to fall into a jog to stay warm.

The sun rose over the sky as Alethia continued southbound, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach as no sign of civilization appeared on the horizon, not even transmission towers or fields.

By the time Alethia guessed it was midday, she finally saw something that almost made her cry with relief. In the distance, small cobblestone and straw-timbered houses dotted a coastline. And there, on a higher point of the coast, stood a taller building with one tall tower. As Alethia came closer, she saw that it was a church.

For three years, Alethia had seen nothing from her home. And now, the first thing she saw was a cross atop the high tower of the church. How ironic that she was not sure if God existed.

Alethia sat in the tall grass, knees drawn against her chest and arms resting atop of them as she looked at the church, the small houses on the coast. The landscape looked like it could be in Hampshire. Before she knew it, hot tears ran down her face, and Alethia swiped them away angrily.

The sudden ring of church bells pulled her from her inertia, and Alethia began walking, always walking, straight for the church. Fear was lodged in her throat as she approached the church. The doors were closed, but she could hear voices from inside, singing.

She waited, not sure how long, until the song had faded away and the doors to the church slowly opened. Her hands wrung together in front of her stomach, her traveling clothes suddenly feeling incredibly inadequate.

Good god, she didn’t even remotely know what the fashion was like now. She doubted it was still anything like it had been in 2020.

Her heart dropped as she saw the people that stood behind those church doors, dressed in long woolen dresses and tunics.

This was not the 21st century, that was for sure. Kinvara had royally, majestically fucked up, and Alethia was stuck in… historical England.

Almost, she screamed, before she caught herself. The people across from her only stared at Alethia with wide eyes, and she could not blame them. The sight of her had to be terrifying. A strange girl with a scarred face, rain-soaked hair and weird clothes - not exactly the sort of creature that seemed safe .

She raised her hands in surrender, a sign that Alethia knew was universally recognized - both in Westeros and on Earth. The people began to whisper amongst themselves until an older, heavy-set man pushed through the crowd.

Alethia recognized his garb. He was a priest, a catholic one if she was right.

Quickly, Alethia pushed a smile on her face.

“I’m Christian too.” she said. She didn’t even know if that was true.

The man’s brows creased together as he drew a cross over her body from where he stood. Alethia nodded, pointing to herself and mimicking his movements.

“Yeah, me too buddy.” she tried. “Come on, you speak English, right?”

No answer.

“Deutsch? Irgendwas muss doch gehen. Francais? S’il vous-plait, je suis fatiguée.” Alethia continued. Still, no reply. Then the man began speaking in what Alethia knew to be Latin. Well, at least she was definitely back on Earth.

She sighed, dropping her hands back to her side and waiting until the man was done. Internally, Alethia was ready to break down again. She tried to remember any sayings she knew in Latin, anything at all she could use to communicate with the man in front of her.

Instead, a few nuns stepped forward, cautiously approaching Alethia. She raised her hands again, trying to show them that she was no danger. She wasn’t doing a repeat of last time, where Eddard Stark had been the only thing between her and being burnt at the stake.

“Salve.” Alethia said very slowly. The nuns paused in their approach, looking to the priest.

He only stared, and Alethia took that as her sign to continue. “Alethia. England?” she asked slowly, pointing to herself and then the land. There was no reply, and she resorted back to her next-to-nothing knowledge of Latin.

“Rex?” she only asked, hoping that the priest would realise she was asking for the ruler of their kingdom.

“Ecbert Eahlmunding orgilde Wessex.” the priest replied.

Alethia pointed instinctually. She had no idea who this Ecbert was, and this was possibly the worst idea she’d ever had. “Ecbert! Take me to Ecbert!”

She’d survive this. She’d survived a torture session with Ramsay fucking Bolton.

Athelstan

He had given up on understanding anyone at the court of King Ecbert. With the monks, he had been able to pursue whatever he desired. With the Vikings, everyone always said exactly what they meant. But here…

Aethelwulf, Judith, Ecbert - they all looked at him differently, and he understood none of them. It was as if he did not speak their language, when he knew that languages was all he understood. That, and history.

Still, he walked alongside Ecbert as the King of Wessex spoke about a scroll Athelstan had just recently transcribed. And when a guard approached the king to whisper something in his ear, Ecbert’s predatory smile let him know that something was wrong.

“What is it?” Athelstan asked, cocking his head to the side.

“There is a fisher village near Southhampton, and it appears that they captured a Christian shieldmaiden.” Ecbert replied.

Athelstan snorted. “There are no Christian shieldmaidens.”

“We shall see about that.” Ecbert said, entering the courtyard of the villa. Aethelwulf was already there, with a garrison of guards surrounding the priest that entered the villa. Behind the priest was a group of ragged soldiers that were probably more fisher than fighter, closely grouped around a shadowed figure.

The Christian shieldmaiden, Athelstan assumed.

He watched as Ecbert stepped forward, quietly conversing witht eh priest and trying to get a look at the woman. Athelstan also watched as Ecbert failed in that, the king forced to step back with masked displeasure as he did not manage to catch even the slightest glimpse of the shieldmaiden.

He returned to Athelstan’s side, leaning over.

“She apparently appeared in front of the church’s doors right after service. How ominous.” Ecbert replied.

“If she was a shieldmaiden, she never would have let them capture her.” Athelstan replied stubbornly.

“What else can a woman wearing weapons be?” Ecbert asked, and for that, Athelstan had no answer.

Finally, the guards stepped aside, and as Athelstan saw the shieldmaiden, Ecbert had been right in his doubts. His first thought when he saw her was so this was what Lagertha looked like when she was young.

The woman looked around the yard, taking everything in with narrowed eyes. She kept her head high, staring at both Aethelwulf and Ecbert with an almost dangerous defiance only those of noble birth had.

“She’s certainly not a farmer.” Ecbert mumbled, voicing Athelstan’s thoughts out loud. The woman’s eyes snapped towards the sound of the king’s voice, meeting Athelstan’s eyes. He felt himself freeze under her gaze.

A scar tugged on her face, not unlike those of Rollo. She stared at him for a moment, and it felt as if she was mapping out his face. Then, she gave him a careful smile. Athelstan felt himself grow warm under her stare.

She was pretty, in the same way Lagertha was - in the same way all shieldmaidens were heedlessly, dangerously beautiful.

The woman addressed Athelstan in a foreign language, but her tone was enough to let him know that she was asking him for something. Help, he thought. The woman was afraid, though she did her very best to hide it.

“Do you know her language?” Ecbert said. Athelstan shook his head. Still, his eyes widened as he listened and realized the woman was switching between three languages he did not realize.

“She is well-educated.” he told Ecbert.

The king’s eyes narrowed. “How so?”

“That is not one, but three languages she is using to try and speak to us. And…” Athelstan trailed off. The languages sounded as if he was supposed to understand him. “They are like ours, but not exactly.”

“What do you mean?” Ecbert asked.

“They have the same sound as our languages. One of them sounds like Frankian. I think… some of the words are almost the same as in our languages. She keeps saying a word that sounds like the Norse word for ‘king’. I think she is looking for you.” Athelstan replied. Ecbert nodded, before he raised a hand to his chest.

“I am Ecbert.” he said to the woman. She paused, her brows scrunching together. Athelstan almost laughed as he realized the expression was like those Bjorn wore when he was angry.

“Alethia.” the woman replied. The name sounded almost Saxon. And then, she said it again. “Alethia Stahl.”

The words slipped from his tongue before he could stop them. “I am Athelstan.” he blurted out. Alethia smiled that same careful smile again and repeated her plea from before.

“I think she can help us.” Athelstan said, though he was not sure why.

“How so?” Ecbert asked.

“A Christian shieldmaiden? Imagine Earl Ragnar’s face.” Athelstan said simply. Ecbert smirked, before he nodded.

“She is your charge. Teach her our tongue.”

***

When a servant led her to the room Athelstan was waiting in, Alethia had changed into more Saxon clothes. He watched as she wrung her hands together and made a note in his mind.

“Athelstan.” he repeated, pointing to himself again. She nodded, stepping closer. Alethia was taller than him, if only by a little bit.

She said a few words in quick succession, and Athelstan could only stare at her confused. Her sigh was universal, though. Then, her eyes flickered down. Athelstan heard the sharp gasp she let out the moment she saw the scars on his hands.

What he did not expect was for her to grab his hands and turn the palms upwards, thumbs gently brushing over the scars.

“Jesus.” she said. So she was a Christian after all. Athelstan pulled his hands from hers as if she had burned them.

“Are you Christian?” he asked her, and she seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then, Alethia shrugged, adding a few quiet words. Athelstan was not sure how to begin teaching someone like her his language, so he began slowly.

She repeated the words after him, and Athelstan felt proud to discover that his pupil was fast at learning languages. After a few minutes, Alethia already understood the pronunciation. And when Athelstan grabbed a book from his table, telling her the word for it, her face lit up as if he was God and had just promised her salvation.

Excitedly, she pointed to the book and then herself. Athelstan found himself dumbfounded by her yet again, and he’d only known her for a few hours. Then, Alethia made a writing motion, and Athelstan snorted.

“You can write?” he asked, though it was rather pointless.

Alethia only shrugged, repeating the motion. She walked around the small room they were in, searching for something. Then, she made for the windowsill, where a bird had left its feather. She picked it up, repeating the motion and then pointing to herself.

“You can write?” Athelstan asked, and she nodded.

“You can write.” Alethia repeated clumsily.

“I can write.” Athelstan corrected, pointing to himself to show that this was a way to speak about your own person. Alethia nodded again.

“I can write.” she said slowly. And then, she waved the feather in his face.

“Feather.” Athelstan told her.

“Feather.” Alethia parroted. “Feather. I can write.”

Athelstan was not sure if he had been right about his initial thoughts of her. Maybe she was just a village idiot. Still, he gave her a proper quill, a scrap of parchment and ink.

His jaw almost dropped to the floor as the shieldmaiden dipped the quill into the ink with practiced ease, and wrote her name onto the piece of parchment. Then, beneath it, she wrote his name.

Though she had misspelled it, Athelstan could recognize it as his own. Behind it, she wrote ‘Ecbert’ and ‘Rex’ and ‘Deus’ and finally, she wrote a very clumsily spelled version of the word ‘feather’, following his pronunciation with latin letters.

Athelstan took the scrap from her, careful not to smudge the still-drying ink. He looked from it to Alethia and back at the words again, still unbelieving.

Alethia opened her mouth to say something, but then she quieted down again. Instead, she took Athelstan’s hands into her own again. His first instinct was to pull away. He found he could not, instead letting her fingers squeeze his. They were calloused, like those of Ragnar, of Lagertha. Like those of a warrior.

Athelstan wanted to shake his head at her. A shieldmaiden that believed in God and could read and write. And then, her eyes turned watery, and Athelstan panicked. Had he done something wrong?

Alethia pulled his hands forward, until they rested on her stomach. It was flat, so it took him a few moments to understand. Lagertha had done the same gesture to Ragnar when she’d been with child.

“Child?” Athelstan asked, nodding to her stomach, and Alethia repeated the word with a shaky voice. She raised a finger to her mouth, gently shushing. Athelstan nodded quickly, grabbing the cross around his neck.

“I promise.”

Alethia smiled again, quickly wiping her tears. “Promise.” she repeated. A few seconds later, the door to the small room opened, and Athelstan knew she’d heard the footsteps.

It was King Ecbert who stood in the doorway, a servant behind him. The servant walked towards Alethia, beckoning her forward. Alethia looked to Athelstan, unsure, and he nodded.

“Go with her.” he said calmly.

“Athelstan. Promise.” Alethia replied, and he nodded. When the door closed behind the two women, Saxon and stranger, Ecbert turned to Athelstan.

“Promise? When did that word come up?” he asked.

“She’s a fast learner.” Athelstan said instead. “And… there’s something wrong with her.”

“What do you mean? Is she insane?” Ecbert asked. Athelstan shook his head, handing Ecbert the scrap of parchment. The king had about the same reaction as Athelstan, laughing as his hand rubbed his beard.

“She can read and write. My late wife could not do that. My own son could barely learn the skills.” Ecbert observed.

“It will make the lessons go faster. She is a fast learner, and in such an environment - she may be able to communicate the very basics in a week.” Athelstan replied.

“She was smart enough to be brought to my villa.” Ecbert snorted. “The girl’s smarter than half my court if she could convince a village of idiots that she was not a witch.”

“Alethia told them she was a Christian, I think.” Athelstan replied.

“That naturally changes things.” Ecbert said sarcastically. “I am quite surprised they did not kill her.”

“Neither did you.” Athelstan pointed out.

“I don’t kill curiosities.” Ecbert shrugged. The words made Athelstan shudder. He did not like his king’s tone.

Alethia

Athelstan reminded her of Jon. She tried not to think about that as she flipped through the scrolls in front of her. She’d managed to slip away from the servant that had been assigned to her, and wander off into an abandoned library of sorts.

“Fuck.” she cursed as she unrolled yet another piece of parchment, and was met with the sight of latin words flowing together. Frustrated, she rolled it together, carefully putting the writing back in its place.

Alethia slipped into the next row of shelves, pulling out a massive tome. She paused as she saw the mosaic on the wall across from her, putting the book back in its place. A laugh escaped her as she carefully traced the Roman imagery. If this place had a mosaic like this that meant…

As a throat was cleared around her, Alethia whirled around. King Ecbert leaned against the shelves she’d just been sorting through, a grin on his face that said thought I’d find you here . Alethia did not like it.

Even though she could appreciate how dilfy he was.

“Romans, huh?” she said nervously, pointing to the mosaic behind her. The king’s eyebrows shot up. He said something she could not understand, waving the piece of parchment she’d written in front of her face.

“Yeah, I was kind of trying to find out what this place is about.” Alethia said, nodding to the books. “But the mosaic helped way more.”

“Mosaic.” Ecbert said, pointing to the wall, and Alethia nodded. She pointed to a figure that looked like an Athena-Minerva-esque woman, and said the name of the goddess.

“Minerva?” Ecbert asked.

“I’m guessing.” Alehtia shrugged, pointing to the next few figures and saying the names of the Gods she guessed belonged to them, sending a mental thank you to Rick Riordan. Something flashed behind Ecbert’s eyes as she listed them off, and Alethia suddenly realized that her knowledge was something this king would want.

She reminded herself of why she’d been so excited to see the mosaic.

“If Romans built this place, that means that it has a bath, right? I reek.” Alethia sighed. “Bath? Aqua? Laver? Je veux me laver.”

Ecbert took a few moments, before he nodded. His arm hooked into Alethia’s as he pulled her to his side. She ground her teeth against it, steeling herself so that she would not hit another king.

“Where’s Athelstan?” she asked.

“Bath.” Ecbert replied, mispronouncing her words. And indeed, when she stepped into the room, she saw that Athelstan was speaking with the servant, trying to calm her in a soothing voice.

“Sorry.” Alethia said apologetically as the servant turned to her, giving a careful shrug. The servant only shook her head, looking to Ecbert for approval before she stormed off. Alethia did not mind, hands dipping into the bath as she leaned over the edge. The water was warm and Alethia laughed again.

Quickly, she pulled her dress up to her kness, pulling off her boots before she dipped her feet into the water and sighed.

“What a nice bath you have, King Ecbert.” she snorted, looking over her shoulder. The king was eyeing her with that same predatory look as before, and Alethia quickly looked to Athelstan. When he said the word she assumed meant bath, she repeated it dutifully. Athelstan did not smile back at her, his eyes only flickering to her stomach, gaze full of worry.

He really was like Jon.

#alestan #alethia stahl #athelstan #vikings #history vikings fic #athelstan headcanons #alethia

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sl-newsie · 5 months

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Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 22: Comes With The Job

Thank God no one’s noticed our boat parked in the sub pen. Another relief is that Mathilde's kept quiet and is surprisingly cooperative considering the tense atmosphere. Maybe now we can get our signal back.

“Q?” Bond asks blindly. I hope this works.

“Yes?” The Quartermaster’s voice answers crystal-clear. He sounds pleased to hear from us.

“We’re going to need an immediate strike on this entire island. It’s a manufacturing plant.”

A few seconds go by before Q answers again. “Bond, there’s something else you should know. Multiple unidentified planes are heading toward you.”

We all exchange glances and I can tell we’re all thinking it.

“They’re coming for Heracles,” Bond speaks for all of us. “How far out?”

“20 minutes,” Q answers.

He must have notified M as well because now I hear his voice in my ear piece. “Bond.”

007 comes to attention. “M?”

“Our interference is attracting global attention. We’re seeing what we can do.”

Perfect. Another inconvenience. Of course the rest of the world wants in on the gossip. Can’t we all talk about this after we’ve ended this crisis?

“What do we do now?” I ask blindly. “For all we know whoever’s on their way here might use Heracles for the same reason Saffron is.”

Bond catches my eye and seems to think of a plan. He grabs D. Swann’s hand and it doesn’t take a genius to see he’s trying to figure out how to say a thousand things at once. Thankfully Dr. Swann gets the point and offers a knowing smile.

“I have to finish this,” Bond explains. “For us.”

She nods. “I know.”

They lean in for a kiss and Nomi and I look away to pretend this is not awkward. If it weren’t for the deadly situation this would be a touching moment. It tugs at my heart and sends guilt seeping into my thoughts because I can’t see my fiancée. The thought of even having a fiancée seems like a fairytale all in itself, but it does give comfort to know I’m not in this alone. And if we don’t destroy Heracles then there won’t be a world worth living in.

“0011, are you there?” Q’s voice rings out.

“I’m here,” I answer quickly. “Bond and I are going to destroy the factory once Dr. Swann and her daughter have left. Before you say anything, no I’m not backing out. He needs my help and I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t do everything I can to stop this.”

On the other end I hear Q let out a deep sign. “I knew you’d say something like that. I don’t doubt you’ll do brilliant as always but… Please be careful.”

“You do know we can hear you?” Nomi speaks up from behind.

A quick blush flashes across my cheeks but I make haste to hide it. “You know I can’t promise everything, Q. My job always comes first.”

By now Bond and Dr. Swann have finished up their goodbye. “I’ll just be a minute. 0011, Nomi, please escort them to shore.” He starts walking back down the dock.

I turn to tell Nomi I’m going with him but she already seems to know. “You’re his partner. Make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble. Good luck, 0011.”

I nod and sprint off to where Bond just disappeared. He’s climbing back up the stairs back towards the lab. When I catch up with him his only response is a frown.

“You’re staying behind?”

“Like you, I’m not fond of following orders. Even from you. I’m with you ‘till the end, Bond.”

“You could die,” Bond pants as we scurry up a narrow ladder.

Yes. Yes I could. “Comes with the job.”

Bond doesn’t respond to that. We both understand that this mission is far more important than personal safety. When we get to the top level Bond checks the hall for any guards and declares it safe to continue.

“Talk to me, Q.”

“Our uninvited guests are 15 minutes away,” he answers dryly.

Now another voice joins the conversation. “Bond, M here. This business has going beyond our jurisdiction-”

“We don’t have a choice,” Bond interrupts. “Fire on my mark.”

Just our luck. Too bad the threat of Heracles is such an inconvenience to national peace. To be frank, can’t we all stop acting like children for five minutes and agree to destroy this thing?

“It disrupts agreements with Russia and the Japanese,” M argues. “The Americans will also want answers.”

“Well don’t give them any,” Bond states firmly. “Mallory, if we don’t do this, there will be nothing left to save. Fire on my mark.”

We pass through another room. Unfortunately this one is guarded. Bond does quick work to shoot the first two. My instincts snap my attention to the approaching guard with a knife, whom I give a quick kick to the crotch and punch his neck. He’s out in seconds. One other thing I notice is how the room is designed. Giant, heavy metal doors.

“Let’s go!” Bond waves me over to the exit.

“007, there’s another problem.” Q must be thinking the same thing. “That room you were just in-”

“Yes yes, I know! I need to open the blast doors.”

“Otherwise the missiles will bounce off of it-”

“I know.”

Honestly, Q, this is not the time for over-explaining! Bond and I are tightly wound as it is and lecturing is not helping. We make our way out in silence, both trying not to think of the foreign planes headed our way.

“Find the control room,” Q tells us. “Think you can do it?”

Bond nonchalantly waves it off. “Plenty of time, plenty of time.”

Yes. Let’s pretend ten minutes is loads of time.

“Is 0011 still with you?”

“Don’t worry, Q. I’ll make sure your fiancé gets out in one piece.”

Oh.

My jogging staggers. “You know?”

The older agent checks the next hallway before answering. “It doesn’t take a genius to spot the ring around your neck. Plus the fact that he can’t stop worrying about you says enough.”

His tone doesn’t give me much to assume what he thinks of this… and I’m sort of nervous to ask.

“Are you mad?”

“I did disagree with it. I told you before that this job never allows for a normal life.”

I bite my lip and avoid his gaze to hide my embarrassment. I thought I had passed the point of fishing for Bond’s praise. He’s not my real family and he shouldn’t have any control over my life. Yet the sting of his disappointment still leaves its mark.

“But,” he continues. “I’m really proud of how you’ve handled it.”

What?

“You understand that the job comes first but also remember to show communication and empathy. Something…” Bond lets out a deep sigh. ��Something I seem to struggle with. What I’m trying to say is, you deserve to have love in your life, Levie.”

A happy smile tugs onto my face. “Thank you, Bond. That means a lot. Maybe after all this we can all go out for drinks to celebrate?”

Boom!

Suddenly a nearby explosion rocks the building. There goes the lab.

“Celebration will have to wait.” Bond and I sprint down the rest of the hall. “Up the stairs. I’ll go first.”

It’s a spiral staircase. With any luck this one leads to the control room and we can get out of this wretched place.

“Hault!”

Crumbs. More guards. With the cramped space it’s much harder to fight. I think there’s something that just might help-

“Bond! Get down!”

He drops to the floor and I snap the clasp on my bracelet before hurling it at the oncoming guards. Shrapnel rains out across the stairs and causes them to drop like flies. This leaves Bond with a bewildered look.

“Where did that come from?”

“A small gift from Q. A shrapnel bracelet. But I can only use it once-” The sound of clinking metal draws my attention towards a small object being dropped in. “Grenade!”

I dive behind one of the dead guards just as a hot explosion bursts forth and knocks me against the wall. I try to get up but another guard from above notices us and starts shooting.

“Ah!”

A stinging pain rips through my arm. From the hole in my uniform fabric the explosion burned I can see a bullet wedged into my pale skin.

“You alright?” Bond demands once he shoots my attacker down.

“Just my left arm. Only nicked it, nothing major. Keep going!”

Boom! Another grenade goes off and I can tell both Bond and I have static ringing in our ears because neither one of us can hear each other’s questions. After a while the ringing wears out and I can focus on shooting more guards below us. Bond has the last guard in his grip and flicks on his watch to overwhelm the guard’s eyepiece and literally blow his brains.

“Smart. Good use of an expensive watch.”

“Remind me to thank Q for his brilliance,” Bond comments and wipes the bloke’s blood off his hands.

“Bond, do you read me?” Speak of the devil.

“Yeah. I just showed someone your watch,” Bond pants as we continue up. “Really blew their mind.”

“Good. Did you find the control room?”

We both spot a sign marked on a door. “My Russian is a little rusty but I think so.”

Thank God there are no guards in the room. Saffron must have focused on the lab more than this section. The entire room reminds me of Q’s lab because it’s one big computer. Only this tech looks way more dated than what I’m accustomed to.

“The infrastructure must go back to the 1990s. That’s going to be an intricate switching system,” Q explains as we start looking for an off switch. “Now the order in which you engage in must be extremely precise. There might be a counterweight clutch. First you-”

Suddenly Bond pulls a random lever and I hear the equipment groan. And he calls me reckless.

“Got it! There it is, get ready for launch.”

"But-”

“Launch the missile, now!” Bond orders.

A few seconds go by and then another siren comes on.

“Why are the hatches shutting?”

Bond slams a fist on the dashboard and looks out the window. “No. No. No!”

“I’m on it!”

I grab a nearby cable and latch it to the outside wall. There’s no time to go back down the long way so I’m winging it. I sprint back to where the blast doors are still locked tight. How am I supposed to-?

“Get down!” I hear Bond shout from behind. I look up and-

Saffron’s back. And he’s holding a pistol straight at Bond’s head. Before I can react Bond rushes up to push me to the side and I slide off into a ravine. No! I can’t get stuck down here! Bond can’t expect me to just hide while he faces that monster alone!

Once I crawl back up I peek up just in time to see Saffron’s lifeless body sink into the pool he and Bond are fighting in. Bond’s been shot. There’s something else floating in the water. A used vial. It can’t be…

“Bond!”

I call from the dirt and sprint over to go help him out of the water. But before I can reach him he holds a hand up for me to stop.

“Go. Go, now!”

“What did he do to you?” I gesture to Saffron.

Bond takes a deep breath. “Heracles.”

The word sinks in and my mind pieces together just how intricate that bastard’s plan was.

“It’ll kill them, won’t it? Dr. Swann and her daughter?”

He takes a moment to wipe the water off his gun, avoiding the answer. “Yes. And you too.”

“Oh God. I’m so sorry-”

“Nothing I can do about it. Q? Are you there?”

“Yes,” Q’s calm

“Are they safe, Q?” Bond asks urgently.

“Yes, they’re safe. Bond, have you left the island?”

Bond looks over at me and I point to the still-stuck doors. One way or another this whole place is going up in flames.

“There’s a slight problem with the blast doors.”

“Bond, the missile’s already launched. Just get out of there.”

007 looks down at his hands as if trying to decide something. “There’s no way to get this stuff off me?”

Even I know the answer before Q confirms it.

“You know as well as I do it’s permanent, it’s eternal. Which is why we need to destroy it. Just get off the island! It’s harmless unless it’s programmed for a target.”

Bond shakes his head. “That’s not going to work.”

Now Q gets the message. “Oh God. It’s for Madeline.”

Bond gets a soft smile, being surprisingly calm. “It’s alright, Q. It’s alright. Could you put Madaline on, please?”

He goes on to talk to Madaline while my mind races trying out all possibilities of how to avoid this. With all of today’s technology there must be something to counteract it! There has to be another way…

“Eleanor.” Bond interrupts my thoughts. He used my name. “You need to get out of here. I’m staying behind to open the silos.”

“No.” I frantically shake my head. “No! I’m not leaving you here!”

“You attach a rope and scale down this building right now, or else I will toss you out myself. I will not have you kill yourself because of me. You need to go back to Q.”

Tears are starting to form, making my vision blurry. “B- But Bond… This can’t be the end.”

The older agent chuckles. “I always said I’d go out with something dramatic.”

His attempt at a light joke does little to steady my racing heart. “You’re the only one who’s been like family to me. I don’t want to lose you…”

I can tell Bond wants to give me a hug to provide any amount of comfort but can’t because of the despicable nanobots. 00 agents are supposed to be unattached to people. But like Bond I’m not always one to play by the rules. All at once I’m supposed to deal with seeing my father figure of a mentor one last time before his fiery death.

“I’ve watched you grow from a skittery rookie to a stubborn and fearless leader. You have no idea how proud I am of you, Levie. I know you and Q will be very happy together.”

I take a shaky breath and want to say so many things. How am I supposed to summarize just how much he’s influenced my life?

“I know.” He can read my thoughts. “I wish there was an alternative. But this is the way it’s got to be. It comes with the job.”

I stifle a sob and look up with watery eyes. “God be with you, Bond. Are you sure I can’t help?”

The man’s smile widens with something I hardly see in Bond: pride. “You’ve done beautifully, Levie. Let me take it from here.”

We give each other a formal farewell salute and I sprint back towards the tower before my heart can override my head’s common sense. I need to get out of here before this whole place gets obliterated. I attach another cable to the side and begin descending down towards the rocks. The adrenaline almost makes me forget my arm is shot.

“Eleanor? Are- are you still there?” Q’s skittery voice comes out in a worried tone.

“Yes,” I try to find my own voice through the pit of swirling emotions in my stomach. “I’m headed down the side of the building. I’ll break the water before the missiles hit.”

“Please. Please don’t leave me again, Eleanor. I already thought I’d lost you once.”

“Stay focused, Geoffry.”

I’m already losing one loved one today. I don’t need my fiancé getting shot down by enemy planes. I near the ocean’s edge and drop down into the cold, churning water. Its icy sting does little to distract from the guilt and sorrow pooling in my head. How did I let this happen? Could I have been faster? Anything to prevent this?

The fear of being underwater completely (and literally) washes over me and all I can do is wait to float to the surface. When I reach the top to breathe I look up to see multiple approaching missiles. It always ends in violence.

I also spot a lone figure standing atop the tower. Bond. He sees me and gives a small wave goodbye as the missiles begin landing in scattered patterns. I can’t even make out if his body is directly hit through all the explosions. We can’t even give him a proper burial.

“0011, are you there?” M’s voice asks.

I swallow hard. “Yes, sir. Agent down. 007 has been… killed in action.”

#quartermaster x reader #quartermaster #q x reader #james bond #daniel craig #ben whishaw #skyfall #spectre #no time to die #007 #james bond 007

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bloodyknucklesforme · 1 year

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Carnal Ch. IV | Either Way, We're Not Alone

Carnal (adjective): relating to or given to crude bodily pleasures and appetites

Simon was born with what his father called 'The Curse'. A wanton craving for taboo meat. Since meeting the similarly cursed Johnny, the two had formed a bond. They didn't just fight together, they ate together, slept together, and shared everything.

When a favor to Price reveals another cursed person, Simon worries she could destroy everything.

A horror AU inspired by Bones and All and Raw among other works. TW: Blood, gore, cannibalism, smut, violence,

Masterpost | AO3

Title Credit: I Know The End - Phoebe Bridgers

Heavy bangs on the door roused him. It was Price. He could smell the cigars. Simon shrugged a mask on as he stumbled to the door. It was still dark outside. He checked his phone, he’d barely slept for two hours. What the fuck could have happened at half past midnight that deserved this treatment.

“I’m calling in a favor. Get dressed and meet me by my car in five.” Price’s voice was hushed but severe. His gaze flicked about to make sure no one saw them talking. “I’ll get MacTavish and Garrick.”

Simon was too tired to argue or ask questions. He pulled on a ratty navy jumper and put on his boots, not bothering to change from his joggers. He jogged across the base, keeping out of sight from others till he reached Price’s car.

He hadn’t really talked to Johnny since that August night. Outside of work, they didn’t have much to talk about now. Simon knew he was harsh, no, he was cruel. Crueler than he needed to be. He kicked him down like a dog, again and again whenever he tried coming back. He’d given up mid-September. He stopped sitting next to him, stopped knocking on his door, stopped looking at him. It hurt, yes, but cutting the cord was better than having it severed by someone else. Maybe he should have explained himself better even if it made it harder.

Johnny and Kyle were already in the backseat, letting Simon take shotgun. Johnny was still rubbing sleep from his eyes and Kyle yawned as Simon closed the door. Price had a cigar already lit.

“Whatever happens tonight, we never speak of it again, understood?” He finally spoke. The three men nodded in agreement. They’d follow Price to hell and back without question. “There was an accident at my goddaughter’s house. We’re going to fix it.”

“Sir? What kind of…accident?” Gaz asked.

“I never liked that bastard she’s been dating.” Price huffed out. “I told her that she shouldn’t let him move in. Fucking leech. I don’t know exactly what happened. She said he hit her and now, well, he's dead. ”

“You want us to get rid of the body,” Simon connected the dots. Price gripped the steering wheel till his knuckles were white. He didn’t look pleased about the idea. Simon had never heard of Price having a goddaughter before.

“Yes.” Price tossed the end of his cigar out the car window. “I’ll take full responsibility for any consequences. If any of you want out, you can get out now. If you’re willing, I need the help. ”

“I’ll help,” Johnny answered quickly. Always the hero. Simon resented his eagerness. Abusive pricks were his preferred taste treat. This wasn’t a meal ticket. He was insane if he thought they’d get a pound of flesh off the corpse with Price, Kyle, and the god daughter around.

“I’m in,” Kyle affirmed.

“Ghost?” Price was looking at him.

Simon nodded.

Price seemed anxious, a rare sight on any occasion. He was quiet till the lights faded away and they were left alone on the dark rural road. Simon preferred to gaze out the window, watching the countryside pass by. He preferred it to the cities he’d spent his life living in. The isolation and sprawling green made him feel safe. He wasn’t trapped in a shoe box flat, he had the whole world around him.

The drive wasn’t long. Less than thirty minutes. Price was slow as they turned up the driveway. It was an old Georgian-style home, a big brick rectangle with white shutters and a grey roof. There was a single light on in the front room. The curtains had been drawn over all the windows. It was quiet and he could smell blood.

“I’ll let you know when to come in,” Price said. He only needed to knock once before the door swung open.

She was trembling in the doorway. She was thin, even through the plush robe he could tell she was all bone. It was hard to believe she could hurt someone enough to kill them. Price quickly guided her back inside and shut the door behind them.

“What do you think she did?” Johnny was almost drooling. Almost two months since they last ate together. They weren’t starving but the hunger was starting to become uncomfortable. Simon dug his nails into his legs. Control was all that mattered now.

“If Price taught her anything, she probably got him good,” Kyle said, his gaze flickering between all the windows - waiting for another light to turn on.

“Do you know her?” Johnny asked.

“He’s mentioned her in passing but I’ve never met her. They go hunting together sometimes when he has leave.”

Simon shrugged. Johnny was trying to hide how eager he was to get inside. He didn’t blame him. The dead man’s blood smelled good even from the car.

It was fresh, probably staining the floorboards as they sat there. They’d have to be replaced. Unfortunate if they're original to the house, can’t find wood like that anymore. The door opened again and Price beckoned them in.

The four met in the entry hall. She was sitting on a sofa in the living room to the left. She was despondent, staring at the wall.

He learned at a young age that blood smelled differently to him. It had a coppery undertone but some people smelled so sweet it would rot his teeth while others made him grimace. There was an undercurrent in the house. It wasn’t the blood of the dead man upstairs, it was a familiar scent. The musk you’d find on used bedsheets and dirty laundry. The same aroma that poured off Johnny. That musky smell of one of his own kind. Her’s was mixed with a sweet smell of vanilla.

He wanted to know if Johnny noticed or if he was too focused on the midnight snack upstairs. It was hard to believe that there could be three of them all in one place. He didn’t know if Price was unlucky to know three cursed or lucky that he was still alive after all this time.

“Alright, he’s upstairs. Kyle, she said he installed cameras in the house. I need you to find them and destroy them. His laptop and everything is in here,” He handed Kyle a leather briefcase. “Soap, Ghost, go upstairs and prep the body, try to clean up a bit too. There should be a tarp and rope in the barn, I’ll fetch it and we’ll move him out of the house.”

“After that?” Simon asked.

“Still working on that part.” He chuckled before quieting to a whisper. “Leave her be for now, alright?”

They all nodded before heading their separate ways. Kyle set up in the dining room with the boyfriend’s laptop. Simon and Johnny headed upstairs wordlessly.

There was a mint green towel with a dark red stain over his head. More things to burn, he thought. Johnny was already tearing it off as Simon shut the door behind them. A small bedside lamp gave the only light. It was overtly feminine with pink flowers on a white background covering the walls and lacy pillows adorning the bed. The dresser and bed skirt were splattered with blood.

“Simon, look at this.” Soap was kneeling by the body, his lips wet with drool. He was pale. Price obviously hadn’t seen the body. His face was mangled, the meat of his cheeks were missing and his ear was hanging on by strings. A chunk of flesh had been ripped out of his throat so deep Simon could see his esophagus. This wasn’t just hunger, this was rage. Whatever this man had done, he’d awoken something in her and paid the price for it. Johnny wiped the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand. “She ate him, didn’t she? She’s like us.”

“Cover him back up. Price can’t see that.” Simon ordered. He never should have come here. This woman was careless. “Don’t touch him.”

Johnny’s eyes were glazed over. Simon knelt down and pulled him backward. Johnny didn’t have the control he needed for this. He hooked his arms underneath the other man’s armpits and pulled him to his feet.

“We’re leaving. Now.”

“I’m fine.” Johnny snapped, ripping himself away.

“You’re not. You’re slipping,” Simon growled. He grabbed Johnny’s arm and pulled them both to the door. It was open and Price stood in the doorway.

He wasn’t even looking at them. He was staring at the body with a deep look of sadness on his face.

“Did she do that?” He rubbed a hand over his face. There was no real way around it. Neither of them were going to take the blame. They didn’t know this woman. “Jesus Christ, Nina.”

Price grabbed the towel and tossed it back over his face.

“Take my car and head back to base with Gaz. I’m sorry I dragged you into this.” He sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. “I’ll handle everything.”

“I said I’d help, Sir. I’m staying.” Johnny said. Simon didn’t even realize he’d broken free again. “We won’t tell anyone about this.”

Simon bit back his tongue. They should leave. Leave Price to deal with this. She was proof that his fears were right. One slip up and everything would come tumbling down. This woman ate her boyfriend’s face and now Johnny was jumping headfirst into the shallow end of her consequences.

“You’re a good man, Soap. Don’t let me drag you down.” He hung his head low. Simon remained quiet. Nothing he said or did know would fix what was already fucked. Price looked up and called out “Nina! Come up here!”

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree

Comment or DM me if you want to be added

#Carnal #simon ghost riley x oc #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #modern warfare II #modern warfare #call of duty fanfic #call of duty #john soap mactavish #John soap mactavish x oc

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alexagirlie · 10 months

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Behind Enemy Lines

Chapter 4

This is not a new fic but realized I never properly posted it to tumblr just linked to my AO3 which is locked to non-registered users so I am reposting here.

Pairing(s): Sihtric/Bloodhair (ch 1 only) Sihtric/Finan/Uhtred (main) Summary: Things do not go according to plan while Sihtric is undercover in the Danish camp. He is presented with a hard choice and has to live with the consequences. Warnings/Tags: dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, anal sex, forced orgasm, bruises, biting, angst, hurt/comfort, canonical character death, DDDNE

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

After Uhtred had seen Bishop Erkenwald and the rest of his entourage, Finan and Sihtric included, out of Coccham that morning he decided it was time for a bath. He had days of filth and blood still coating his body and needed a good wash. He left his armour to be dealt with later and left his hall to head to a secluded pond outside of town. He had intended to do this alone but when Skade appeared like a ghost at his side he found himself not protesting.

Once they arrived at the pond's edge he watched as Skade removed her outer layers until only her blue underdress remained and she waded into the water until waist deep. She tossed a flirtation look over her shoulder before she turned to face Uhtred and beckoned him into the water with her.

Her dark eyes trapped his gaze and he went to her. "You and I can be everything together." She cupped his face and pulled him to her.

Uhtred was barely listening to what the witch was saying, he was entranced by the press of her lips against his skin and the feel of her breasts under his hands. The way her dress clung to every inch of her body. He had not had the soft touch of a woman since before Gisela's death and he hadn't realised how much he had missed it, even with his men keeping him well satisfied sexually.

Her words were a background to the buzzing in his ears and the lust coursing through his body. Until one phrase broke through and pierced the fog enough for him to really listen.

"They are your past and I am your future." The words rang through his mind, over and over.

Uhtred just stared at her in confusion, trying to recall who she was even talking about "Who?"

Skade pressed her body against his and stared up at his face, her blue eyes seemed even paler in the early morning light. "The Christian could never do what needs to be done, his god will not allow him. And the boy is a whore, it took one word to Bloodhair and he had the boy on his knees."

As her words sank in and who she was referring to became apparent Uhtred felt the world tilt sharply and he grabbed her tightly by the arms. "Explain."

Skade seemed genuinely confused by the question. Her brow furrowed and her voice was lilting and soft. "Bloodhair was questioning the boy's story about defecting so I told him the boy was your whore and he left because you replaced him with me. Bloodhair bedded him that same morning. Half the camp heard them humping."

Suddenly Sihtric behaviour since that day they reunited in the trees made sense. The bruises, the slight limp when he walked, the way he still kept himself separated from the rest of his men.

Uhtred was filled with a mixture of guilt at how he had fallen so far under Skade's spell, to the point where the problem with his boy seemed so inconsequential and rage at her hand in what must have happened to him.

Skade was still speaking, she must not realise that Uhtred was breaking out of her spell and it was her undoing. "I own you."

That last phrase pushed the rage roaring inside him to win over the churning guilt and Uhtred was so consumed by it that he didn't even think before he pulled the wet hem of her dress over her head and pushed her under the water. He held her there as she thrashed, fighting him with all she had. She was no match for his strength and soon her thrashing slowed then stopped and still he held her under for minutes longer. He needed to make sure she was dead.

As his head cleared of the rage it was almost like a fog had been lifted and he could think clearer than he had in weeks. A fog of Skades making.

The grief surrounded the death of his wife, where he should have turned to the care of his most faithful and beloved men, not the witch. His decisions regarding Ragnar and the Danes which led to Uhtred losing his brother forever.

How he had practically forced Sihtric to put on that horrible ruse, lying to Finan and Osferth and the rest of the men, making them doubt the boy's absolute loyalty…just to get the witch back… oh gods Sihtric.

Uhtred made it to the edge of the water before vomiting. He hoped she had lied about what the boy had endured undercover but he knew deep down that she had not.

Finan grew more and more concerned about Sihtric after they left Coocham early the next morning and as the day progressed. The boy was pale and Finan gaze was again locked on the bruising on his face, on the deep shades of blue and purple, the slightest tinge of green forming at the edges as they started to heal.

He was constantly shifting and fidgeting in his saddle, his poor horse seemed so confused. Sihtric was normally an expert horseman so to see such novice riding was highly unusual. Almost like he was in too much discomfort which as a seasoned warrior and rider he shouldn't be yet. They have made the ride from Coocham to Winchester dozens of times over the years.

When they made camp that night, Sihtric volunteered for the first watch immediately and Finan couldn't help but get the feeling that the boy was trying to avoid him. It was further proof to Finan that there was something the boy wasn't telling about his time in the Danes camp and Finan was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of it.

They barely spoke the following morning and Finan was already planning how he would get the other man alone as soon as possible.

They had a very brief delay at the gates as Steapa was on guard duty and determined to be a right bastard. Finan barely kept his tone civil as he yelled up to the large man. "Hey big man! We're guilty of being tired and hungry, my friend! That is all!"

Steapa took a long, slow swallow of the ale in his hand before he finally gave the order to open the gates. Finan sighed in relief and followed the procession of priests, Sihtric silent at his side.

Finan led them to their usual stable while in Winchester and to his disgust he saw none other than Aethelwold, the slimy little traitor, free and in public. Though he did seem to have acquired a new war wound since he left Dunholm.

Finan whistled softly as he dismounted to get Sihtric's attention and nodded subtly to the scarred Lord. He called out. "Is that Aethelwold the sword-dane I see? Looks like you've mislaid an eye." Sihtric chucked behind him.

"I see you perfectly Finan though I do not see your master." The weasel paused, his voice just as grating as always. "Uhtred, where is he?"

"Standing at your blind side perhaps?" He shared a grin with Sihtric before the two men walked off to finish getting settled. Aethelwold was a problem for another day, or with luck, not their problem at all.

Finan's eye was caught briefly by some lovely white flowers a woman was selling in the square before he spotted Bishop Erkenwald unloading the goods he had procured from Coccham nearby and made a point of gaining permission to stay before he could forget and they ended up arrested. It would be just Finan's luck for that to happen now.

He had just parted with the bishop when Sihtric walked over to him with a tentative look on his face. "I am off to find Ealhswith. Let her know we are leaving Wessex and have a new home in Mercia." He had a bundle of the white flowers clenched in his hands. It was adorable how he still doted on his wife even when they were only married in name now.

Finan couldn't resist a little teasing "Umm she'll be underneath some man and you'll recognize her by her big… " his hands came up and imitated big breasts and he almost couldn't finish his sentence through his giggles "feet!"

Apparently Sihtric didn't appreciate the jib as his face filled with shame and his gaze fell to the ground at his feet, shoulders slumping. Any mirth Finan felt immediately dissipated and he wished he could take the words back. Sihtric had never reacted so negatively to the men teasing him about Ealhswith, normally he took it with good humour.

"Sihtric…" Finan was at a complete loss of words and cursed himself as the other man turned and walked away without a word.

He sighed and contemplated following when two hands gripped him tight around the shoulders and dragged him away with a tense whisper of his name "What the - Osferth? You're here?"

They stopped beside a fire out of the way of the main path and Osferth started talking. "So he's inside the walls of Winchester. Where will he go? To Father Beocca?"

"Yes," Finan nodded. "He'll find us, be sure of it."

Osferth pushed his hood down and warmed his hands over the fire "And he is free of his curse."

Finan met Osferths eyes with disbelief "She's dead? How? When?" He couldn't believe it, he was sure that Uhtred would stay locked under her spell forever and they would have to live with him humping her and being led to betray everything they had fought for.

Osferth nodded firmly "Very. Yesterday morning. He drowned her in the pond, he didn't know I was watching."

Bloody hell.

"Then we are all free of the curse, baby monk" Maybe now they could focus and get to the bottom of whatever was plaguing Sihtric. At the very least Finan knew the younger man would be pleased to hear that she was dead. He had threatened to kill her himself after all.

"She was of the devil, wasn't she Finan?"

"No" he shook his head "more than that, she was the devil in disguise." The way she had wormed her way into Uhtred's head, how she tempted and poisoned with equal measure.

"It is what he would do." Finan nodded his agreement to Osferth's words, yes it is exactly what the devil would do.

"Hmmm" Well now was not the time to dwell and a plan was already formulating in Finans head. He couldn't stop the feeling of elation building in his chest at the news the witch was finally dead and buried.

He turned and pressed a finger into Osferths chest firmly "Ale and women?"

Osferth grinned back at him "And prayer?"

Finan laughed at the typical response. "Absolutely, and in that order." He crossed himself with a cheeky grin and started to walk backwards away from Osferth and back out into the square. "I'm going to go grab Sihtric to join us. Meet you at the alehouse."

He decided to check at the Two Cranes first and pleasantly surprisingly to find Ealhswith immediately, she was tenderly stroking the petals of the flower Sihtric had brought her while sitting at a quiet table in the corner of the main room. The man in question was nowhere in sight. Ealhswith met his eyes and nodded towards the stairs which led up to the second floor of the inn. "Your normal rooms."

Finan nodded his thanks and without another word took the stairs two at a time and didn't bother to knock before opening the door and letting himself inside. Where he proceeded to interrupt Sihtric, who was in the process of changing, his back to the door as he rubbed a salve over the bruises on his jaw.

Finan froze as he took in what Sihtric had been hiding from then. He saw the long raised red lines of nail marks down Sihtric's back, an angry looking bite mark on the back of his neck and tell tale bruises on his hips. Sihtric had proudly worn similar marks from Finan and Uhtred both in the past. These were not from them.

Finan's vision went red and he crossed the room in what felt like a blink until he was all but looming over Sihtric. He hadn't even thought about moving until he had.

His voice was rough and gritting when he could finally bring himself to speak. To ask what needed to finally be asked. "What happened to you? Who did this to you?"

Sihtric shoulders bunched up around his ears defensively and he refused to meet Finan eyes. The Irishman could practically feel how much the younger man did not want to have this conversation. "It doesn't matter. I did what I had to do. We got Skade back."

Finan knelt on the floor at Sihtrics feet, a sharp jolt of pain running up his knees at how hard he had fallen, and placed one hand gently on the boy's knee. He really didn't like the sound of that. "Sihtric, love, please tell me."

Sihtric’s mismatched eyes met Finans silently for a long time before his chest rose and fell in a defeated sigh and he looked away, breaking eye contact.

Sihtric's eyes had been dark and unfocused and Finan braced himself for what was coming.

Sihtric stood abruptly from his perch on the bed and began to pace the length of the room. "Bloodhair."

"What" Finan interrupted but Sihtric ignored him and kept going with his explanation. It was for the best for Finan had no idea what he was going to say anyways.

"He didn't believe the cover story I told them for why I abandoned Uhtred. Him and Bride. Skade provided Bloodhair with a different one and this one he believed."

"Skade?!" The fucking witch. No wonder Sihtric had been so enraged when they had watched her and Uhtred together on the boat.

"She told him that I was Uhtred's whore and that I had left him because he replaced me with her." It seemed like now the dam had broken, Sihtric couldn't stop the words from coming and Finan listened with mounting horror as his boy recounted the morning spent in Bloodhair's bed. The subsequent challenge and fight between Bloodhair and Haeston and watching as Skade killed the man.

"I swear to the gods Finan if he humps the bitch I'm going to kill her in her sleep." Finan could believe it. The strength of the other man to have lasted the whole trip without gutting her was astounding.

"She's dead." Sihtric froze, Finan wasn't even sure if the other man was breathing; he was standing so still. "Uhtred is here. Osferth witnessed it himself. Said Uhtred drowned her in the pond the same day we left."

Finan could see the stark relief on Sihtric's face and some of the tension in his shoulders relaxed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, still naked from the waist up and buried his face in his hands.

Finan was immediately alarmed and only grew more so as the younger man's shoulders began to shake with silent tears.

"Oh my love."

He moved to embrace his youngest lover but froze just before he touched the Sihtric's bare shoulder, unsure if his touch would be welcome.

"Can I hug you love?"

Sihtric nodded jerkily and raised his head from his hands to look Finan in the eyes. Finan’s heart ached at the tears which had gathered in his lover's eyes.

Permission granted he wrapped Sihtric in his arms and held him as he cried.

#kirstin's chronicles #the last kingdom #the last kingdom fanfiction #sihtric kjartansson #uhtred of bebbanburg #finan #finan/osferth/uhtred #sihtric/bloodhair #smut #dark

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artsykidwolf-2000 · 1 year

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Last Pegasus Ch. 1

Hello everyone and welcome to the FIRST CHAPTER of my original story! I know it's been a LONG while since I posted the Prologue to this story so I hope you all who read this will be interested in further chapters and artworks! This is my dream to put my characters into a story and share with people! This story was inspired by many things so I hope it's fun!

🚫🚫🚫PLEASE DO NOT STEAL THIS IS AN ORIGINAL WORK!!!🚫🚫🚫

💚💚💚PLZ LIKE SHARE AND COMMENT YOUR OPINIONS! ID LIKE TO SEE EM AND PLZ GIVE A FOLLOW FOR MORE!💚💚💚

Thank you and happy reading!

💜- Kat/Lime the Author

WARNINGS: censored cursing, anxiety, mostly safe stuff, very fluffy and wholesome

As the sun started to rise high in the sky, I sat alone in the garden. Doodling away in my sketchbook as my younger sister practiced magic. It was late summer for us as the breeze blew by. Even the cold hasn't nipped the warmth yet. My mind fluttered to new lands as I drew. It was like from memories in past lives but that would be silly. A misfired spell brought me back to my senses with a scream and I looked in the direction of my sister.

"Whoops…sorry sis…" she apologized.

"It's alright Ava, but try not to do complicated spells too often. Your tattoos haven't even come in and you're much older than 13 years old." I patted her head.

"I know but I'm tired of it all…I want to be like you guys and fly or do complicated spells and tricks!" She sighed as her ears drooped.

"One day you'll have your chance. Just be patient" I picked up my sketchbook.

"Just like how you're testing Uncle Laurence's patience?"

I looked at her confused then looked at my phone. Oh sh*t. I WAS LATE!!!

"Great Gods! I'm late!! I have to go Ava…umm…try not to blow up the castle by accident…again" I chuckled nervously then raced to the stables to find my wolf, Urion, waking up from his nap.

"I take it you just looked at your phone…" he yawned.

"Shush! Yes and now I'm late! Come on!" I climbed onto his big back and we were off to the town below the castle.

Racing down the main street we stopped at the location we were to meet at. It was a local cafe my twin worked at. The streets along the way seem to be bustling in the early light of day as buildings line the sidewalks. People from far and wide have seemed to call this kingdom home for as long as I can remember. After a bit of running, we arrived at the cafe. Urion let me off and turned into a human form to not take up space plus he didn't want to shed in the place.

"Welcome your majesty~~~" Speaking of the daemons themselves…my twin piped in.

"Flash you know you don't have to blurt that out loud"

"I know but it's funny, Uncle Laurence came in about an hour ago, you're lucky he's lenient on you."

"I know and I'm sorry, could you make my drink to go while I speak to him" I held up my card.

"No problem, I'm about to get off my shift anyways, Doofus can cover me"

"But you're the manager here…"

"And he's co-manager" they raised their brow.

"And I wonder what he's more into…you or the leadership complex in general…"

"Just shut up and go to Uncle Laurence" they huffed

I chuckled as I made my way to the couches in the back. There I saw our Uncle. He was clutching his cane in front of him. He was still pretty young for his age to be handicapped the way he was but it was an accident that caused his predicament. He came out of his thoughts from staring out the window when I approached and he gave a soft smile.

"Ah, Kat, I see you woke Urion up as well. He needed the exercise." My uncle chuckled as he adjusted himself with a beaming smile he always seemed to have.

"Yeah…sorry for being late, I was stuck in my fantasy world while Ava practiced. Her misfire brought me back to reality" I chuckled embarrassingly.

"Is that so hm? Well as long as she didn't hurt herself…" he sighed

"So what did you want to talk about? Is it more training? A new spell? Are you getting weaker??" I asked.

"I'm just fine, I just wanted to tell you, since your 21st birthday is coming up, your final training courses will be up soon. Soon you'll be one step closer to being a fully fledged Guardian." He smiled.

"Fully fledged?! B-but what will happen to you?"

"Only time will tell but I just wanted to get it out of the way while I still can…before I'm bound to a bed or wheelchair for the rest of my days."

"That is true…" my ears drooped.

"Don't be so doubtful of your abilities either, I know you'll do well and make a name for yourself."

"If you say so, may I ask why? Why so soon?" I looked at him with concern.

"There have been some…changes in the world and I need you and your siblings to investigate it further in my stead. I fear it may be more that I can handle on my own." He adjusted in his seat, fiddling with the top of his cane.

I nodded as my thoughts began to wander about. Why now? Why me? Are my siblings and I ready for such responsibilities? Am I truly ready…? I guess only time will tell of my predicament. Then the sound of the slamming employee door brought me back to reality again. There stood Flash with drinks in hand near us.

"Oi! I just got off! Where are we going? Sounded important Uncle Hobbs" Flash cracked a smile.

"…I wish your father didn't teach you that nickname…" Uncle Laurence chuckled out a sigh as he prepared to get up, "We're gonna head out to the Council House to address certain matters that have popped up in different regions of our world. Important matters."

"Sweet…road trip" Flash smirked as she handed us our drinks before sipping on hers.

"Will others be joining us?" I spoke up.

"I've already briefed Gavin of the situation early this morning but it's up to you to see what you want to do after this meeting." He announced as he got up with a wobble. Urion caught his arm as he leaned.

"Steady…" Urion said in a calm monotone voice.

"You really are like your mother, young one" Laurence smiled as he stood tall before looking at me. "My leg hasn't given out completely yet! I'll be fine, Lil Dove."

"If you say so but if you ever feel weak, I'll make sure Auntie Atla gives you an ear full when she gets the chance!" I giggled.

"But I'm only in my late forties~" he said in a sing-song tone.

"Forty going on eighty…" Flash smirked while sipping her coffee. Uncle Laurence tilted his cane to trip her up while being stable. Nearing spilling the coffee in the process as Flash walked into the trap.

I snickered as I saw the stumbling act. Flash was glaring forwards as we walked out of the coffee shop together.

★★★★★

After fifteen to twenty minutes of walking down the sidewalks of Yoitz, we arrived at the Council House downtown. Walking down the ivory carpeted hallways of the building we made it to a meeting room. Along the way my anxiety was being tossed left and right. I was just a little nervous ball and Flash just sipped away, holding my hand. As soon as we all sat down, Uncle Laurence pulled out some documents pertaining to the situations he mentioned.

"Since you two will be 21 in a few months, I figured I should share some important information with you to lighten my load a bit. You are old enough to shoulder a reasonable task at hand. My Guardian duties are not a walk in the park." He had a saddened look on his face before he took a deep breath and lets out a tired sigh.

"W-Why? What's going on?" My stutter slipped into my words.

Uncle Laurence opened up the folder he had in his bag, "We don't know the complete story but there has been a rise of Gryffin activity near the north west coast of Scavaheim, near the port town of Hearth Harbor. The locals there have been getting worried with the Test of Bravery coming up at the end of the month."

"What are a bunch of big birds gonna do huh? The Scavens are Giants are they not?!" Flash hissed.

Uncle Laurence glanced at Flash with a stern look, "Yes but they're sacred animals to the patron deity in the area and there's not much they can do besides defend and scare them off."

"Is there something we can do? What about Auntie Atla? What is she doing on the matter?" I spoke up.

"I have sent her to look into the matter but she may need your help for future insights while she takes care of the Test of Bravery." He looked at us.

"Don't you want to…ya know…meet her?" Flash spoke in a sarcastic-like tone, raising an eyebrow.

"As much as I would LOVE to see her, I've already been told off by her to stay and rest up. She gave me an earful earlier this week…" he said in a defeated way. Good job Auntie.

"Well she is your wife and the Guardian of Bravery! Of course she's looking out for your well being!" I chuckled.

"She's stubborn, that's what she is…" he giggled out a smile.

"Who all will be going with us to Scavaheim?" Flash drank the last of her coffee and tossed it in the trash.

"Your sister Terri will be joining you along with Gavin for good measure. Terri will also be joining in this year's Test of Bravery among other young Scavens. You'll prepare to leave by the end of the week." Laurence said with a serious tone.

"We'll do just that Sir, you can count on us!" I nodded a smile.

"I know I can, just try your best and lead them" Laurence placed a hand on my shoulder and then we hugged. We hugged for a short while before Flash, Urion and I left the building with the report.

My stomach began to flip flop in my body. My worries must really want to become real as I held my, possibly cold by now, hot chocolate. This will be my first time traveling without my parents or my uncle outside the kingdom. I try to calm myself by putting documents in my bag and sipping on my drink. A message notification got me out of my thoughts again. I looked at my phone to see a message from my adoptive brother, Gavin. He felt more like a friend than a brother but more or less he lived in the castle with us, and now he has his own place. I tapped on the notification to see what he wanted.

[ Hey you ok? Just got off from work ]

[ Yeah… just a little worried…was in a meeting with Flash and Urion. He looked super bored lol ]

[ Overwhelming huh? ]

[ …Yeah… ]

[ Pizza or Steak? ]

[ Pizza plz ]

[ No problem, see you soon. Be careful coming over ]

[ Thanks Gavin, see ya ]

"That your boyfriend~~~?" Flash was leaning over with a sneaky smirk, looking at my phone.

"AH!? NO!!" I retaliated.

"Jeez!!! I'm kidding! I know it's Gavin…" Flash chuckled, "I'll see you soon, I'll find my own way home, you take Urion to Gavin's"

"Thanks, I'll save you a slice" I smiled and walked in the direction of Gavin's apartment with Urion.

As we walked I could tell Urion was looking at me. Poor thing always worries in silence. I gave him a soft smile as I held his hand for good measure. I could tell his non-existent tail was wagging on his human form before he turned into a wolf again. We soon arrived at the apartment complex, I buzzed us into the building. Urion stood close to me as we walked to the door and I unlocked it with my spare key. There stood Gavin setting up the coffee table with pizzas and drinks. He turned around and smiled his signature gentle grin. He sure does know how to host guests that's for sure.

"Welcome Home, Your Highness" he spoke in a joking matter as he gestured to the coffee table and couch.

"Ha Ha very funny, you know me butthead" I chuckled and gave him a big hug.

As he hugged back, he breathed out a chuckle, "I know, just wanted to hear you laugh Kat. How did you fare on the way here?"

"Her aura seems tense and unsure…" Urion spoke up as his fluffy butt laid next to Gavin's wolf, Acadia.

"Urion…" I pouted. "Yeah…it was nerve-racking…"

"It must be hard to jump this far into training" Gavin sat down.

"Well I'll be traveling with you, Flash, and Terri to Scavaheim! It's been a while since I've been there and let alone without mom or dad…" I hugged myself.

"Don't worry about a thing, we take this one step at a time and enjoy the more…brighter sides of the mission, ok?" Gavin smiled.

"Right…I'll try…" I nodded and sat beside him, "I'm glad I won't be alone in this whole ordeal…but… I'm worried about Uncle Laurence's condition. I wish he would just get better somehow…"

"I'm sure he'll be fine until the celebration comes around. He's too stubborn to die just yet." Gavin chuckled. "You're smart, Kat, I know you'll figure things out in no time"

I smiled as he handed me a plate of food. I nodded in agreement as I took a few bites of my food and a few sips of my drink. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the wiggle of a controller. I smirked and grabbed it. We played games and had fun late into the night. Dwindling my anxiety away, fizzling out my worries. The mission ahead will be tough, I know that, but with my family around me to help guide me is all the courage I need for now. A new beginning of being a Guardian will be a long and hard road and I also know it's a fruitful one. Who knows…I might meet someone new to help us and be friends? Only the future will tell. Scavaheim here I come!

( not my image, just a placer until I can make art, it's a Google image)

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escapekissed · 4 years

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there’s a certain. way. the final fantasy series portrays women. as sort of breathless, flightless birds, hands always clasped in prayer or behind their back as they arch and tease and commit to some bit that i as a non-binary lesbian written by myself for the benefit of women and not an out-of-touch video game man, cannot hope to understand.

with aerith, i tend to try to bridge the gaps. aerith is kind---but i rely more on her humor than anything. it’s a coping mechanism i understand. i say that she’s stronger than the game does---i say she cares a little less about femininity and a little more about cloud and tifa than the game lets on.

but with lunafreya... i’m aiming for a Heroine Gothic. taking ffxv to its more realistic, logical extreme with the very little we are shown of her.

luna is a woman that exists for men&god. she exists to pray, to motivate, to be consumed by the love of her people and noctis. her destiny is to die, and she knows this, and by all accounts, god & her people think that she should feel honored to be placed on such a pedestal to get to fall so low beneath them.

aerith’s affectation is saracastic and witty and quick, her voice is deep and smooth, but it drags, and it rolls, she drawls like a the kind of woman that says she’s ‘sweating like a sinner in church’ and like she’d love to commit any number of sins right now with u here.

lunafreya’s, in comparison, is blank. she sounds robotic, even as she smiles at u, and her eyes are dull and faded from restless nights, always spent praying, waking up and praying more, talking to god, pleading to god, healing the sick & taking on their sickness just as ardyn once did. she can speak in multiple languages, she can read and write and translate alll of them, but she seems to come with stock phrases, phrases that she thinks will make u happy, a script she follows to the letter, and when you do not respond the way she thinks you will, she repeats the script, changes a word here and there so that it will help you deal with your pain a little easier. if she could say nothing, simply smile and make you go away happy. she would do it.

lunafreya is a woman that has stared into the abyss, and the abyss has taken her for its own, claimed her body and soul. she does not speak to god anymore---she speaks to god’s despair under his patriarchal rule, and she falls deeper into the monarchy’s control everyday as nifhelm (and ardyn) grow more powerful.

she has no hope except to love & die, as most final fantasy women do. luckily i plan for luna to have a more yuna-esuqe ending than ffxv grants her, where she is literally saved by a divine goddess’s love as a representation of her feminine spirit to fight and be a holy woman in and within herself and not just a vehicle for a man’s reign---but at the beginning of the game.

luna would do anything for god, and for the man she ‘loves’ to die alongside her ‘for the peace and prosperity of the world’, including hurting her own family, toppling empires, taking on the very plague itself. and she does do it. anytime she gets a chance to fight, she does it, and it’s very scary when she does get to fight. that blankness takes a form of pure, angelic light.

and that takes her mind to a very derranged and fatal place for a very long time.

i just think final fantasy heroines should be a bit unhinged. that’s all!

#fandom: DARLING STAND BY ME! | ffxv #hc: I SPEAK TO GOD; I LIVE FOR HIM; AND ALONE IN THIS WORLD; I WALK FORWARD ON BROKEN STAINED GLASS HEELS | lunafreya #ch: I SPEAK TO GOD; I LIVE FOR HIM; AND ALONE IN THIS WORLD; I WALK FORWARD ON BROKEN STAINED GLASS HEELS | lunafreya

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pocket-luv101 · 2 years

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Weaving Stars // Chapter 1

Fandom: Servamp Ship: KuroMahi Characters: Kuro, Mahiru

Summary: Mahiru is a deity who weaves constellations in the night sky. He feels isolated working alone at his loom but then he meets a shepherd. His title is higher than Kuro’s but Mahiru falls in love with him. (KuroMahi, Tanabata AU)

(Ch.1) // Ch.2

Mahiru’s fingers ached after hours of weaving. He carefully eased the shuttle though the vertical yarns of the warp and he created another layer of the Leo constellation. His movements were swift and fluid from centuries of practise. He was the son of sky deities and Mahiru inherited the title Constellation Weaver. He created tapestries and hanged them in the night sky.

While Mahiru loved weaving and creating constellations, it was lonely at his loom. He moved his equipment to the Milky Way with the hope that the fresh air would help him feel less isolated as he worked. The sound of nature—the flowing water and grazing sheep—surrounded him. However, the ethereal scenery only made him feel more separated from the world. Others would say he was blessed to be a deity but there were times he wished he was a simple human.

There was a slight tug on his sleeve and it startled him. Mahiru was certain that he was alone in his garden and only a few people could enter his garden. He looked down and found a sheep chewing on his cloves. Worried that it would also try to eat the constellation he was creating, he set down his shuttle and tried to lead it away from his loom.

“How did you wander all the way here? Your owner should still be nearby so let’s go find them.” Mahiru was a deity and he had a connection to animals. He wasn’t able to speak with them but his powers should sway the sheep to follow him. To his confusion, the sheep ignored him and walked past him to examine his loom. He placed himself in front of the loom to keep it from damaging the sacred item.

“Youko, where are you?” A voice in the distance reached them and the sheep immediately ran towards it. Mahiru became curious about who could sway the animal more than a god and he followed the voice. He walked along the river and he thought he saw a cloud. Once he was closer, he realized that the cloud was a herd of sheep. A handsome man stood in the center and Mahiru reasoned he was the shepherd.

The shepherd noticed him approach and he tried to step out of the flock to greet him. The sheep continued to crowd him and Mahiru didn’t know if it was right to giggle at the sight. He lifted his robe and he made his way through the sheep to meet him halfway. “Thank you for bringing Youko back. It would be troublesome if he went into the garden and ate the flowers. I never seen you before. Are you a new star? My name is Kuro.”

“I am Mahiru…” He trailed off before he could give Kuro his full name and title. Even when he was a child, he saw how people would treat him differently after they discovered he was a deity. Mahiru could sense that Kuro was immortal but he was a shepherd for the night sky. Their stations were different and they would never meet under normal circumstances.

The chanced meeting could be a blessing for Mahiru though. He looked down at his feet and lied. “I’m a servant of the Constellation Weaver and I was working in the garden where I found Youko. Your sheep must’ve entered the garden to graze. You can bring your herd inside to eat the grass and drink from the Milky Way. That will help their coat become beautiful.”

“Wouldn’t the Shirota family be angry if you let us into their garden?” Kuro hesitated to accept his offer and Mahiru sensed his feelings.

“Don’t fret. I assure you that their first son will not punish you for entering the garden. He creates tapestries and embroideries with the yarn your sheep provide. Allowing the flock to graze in the garden will benefit everyone.” Mahiru told him. He took his hand and smiled to reassure him. They lived in the starry sky yet Kuro had never seen anything as bright as his smile. “I would like to have someone to talk to while I work. It gets really quiet.”

Kuro saw how his expression became shadowed by loneliness. They were strangers yet he felt something tug at his heart and he wanted to help Mahiru. He nodded and stepped towards the garden. “I have the opposite problem. My home is noisy because I live with seven siblings and then I have to take care of these sheep. It’ll be great to relax in the garden.”

“Why does it sound like you’re expecting me to do your job for you and talk to the sheep while you relax in the garden? Each of us have a role in the heavens.” Mahiru lightly lectured Kuro and petted the sheep standing between them. “It’s not good to be lazy and these little guys need someone to watch over them.”

“The heavens may have assigned me the role of shepherd but that doesn’t mean I can’t do something for myself.” He shrugged. Mahiru’s father had raised him to weave constellations and he was never given the opportunity to choose his own path. He wondered if he was wrong as he saw a small smile spread across Kuro’s lips. “Though, this job is perfect for me. There’s nothing better to use as a pillow than a sheep.”

“Well, I’m not going to allow you to sleep during work.” Mahiru took his hand and pulled him into the garden. The sheep trailed after them and their silver wool created the image of stardust from a distance.

Mahiru completed his next blanket as quickly as he could so he would be able to enjoy the afternoon with Kuro. Since they first met, he invited him into his private garden every day. They would simply talk as he sat at his loom and weave stars. He wanted the chance to face him as they spoke rather than staring at strings. He loved weaving but there was something in Kuro’s red eyes that gave him inspiration to create new constellations.

Mahiru sat against a tree with Kuro sleeping on his lap. The blanket that he had recently finished was draped over his shoulders. He fondly stroked his hair and he thought its light colour complimented the blanket like the moon to the stars. His sheep sat around them and Mahiru worried that he would be overheated. He placed the blanket over him for warmth but he didn’t consider how warm being surrounded by wolves would be. He used his power to create a cool breeze.

The wind against Kuro’s cheek woke him and he opened his eyes. He couldn’t stretch his stiff arms due to the wall of sheep next to him. Even if he could, he wouldn’t want to move off Mahiru’s comfortable lap. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry I fell asleep. We agreed to finish work early so we can actually spend time together. I had to stay up late to protect the sheep and I ended up sleeping here.”

“I understand, Kuro. My father told me that there has been an increase in wolves and the shepherds are required to work longer. There are bags under your eyes and you probably haven’t had enough sleep in a while. Oh, I have a present for you that might help.” Mahiru patted his shoulder and signalled for him to sit up. The sheep moved so he had more room to stand.

Mahiru rose yet he found that his legs felt unstable because Kuro had been sleeping on it. Youko noticed him start to stumble and the sheep darted forward to help him. In the sheep’s haste, it crashed into him and threw him off balance. Kuro caught Mahiru’s wrist and pulled him back. Mahiru fell into his arms and the sheep crowding them caused them to be closer. His heart fluttered and he became breathless.

He had pictured himself in his embrace before but those were daydreams. Kuro only held him for a moment before he dropped his arms from his waist. His warmth lingered though. “Sorry, these sheep aren’t well trained. You probably know that since Youko went into the garden of the sky deities.”

Mahiru could only laugh nervously at the mention of his family. He kept his true identity a secret from Kuro for months. While he felt guilty for lying to him, he didn’t know how to tell him that he was a deity and they were forbidden from interacting. They couldn’t be friends or the lovers he yearned to be. Despite that, Mahiru couldn’t let go of the moments of freedom Kuro gave him.

He shook those thoughts from his mind and told himself to not linger on their different stations. Mahiru walked to his loom and he picked up the present box he had hidden there earlier. He turned to Kuro and smiled nervously. His cheeks felt warm and he hoped that it wasn’t too obvious that he was blushing. “Can you take off your white cloak and close your eyes?”

Kuro nodded and he followed his instructions. He assumed that Mahiru made him a new cloak but he didn’t know how it would help him with the sheep. A warmth fell over him and thick fur brushed over his cheek as Mahiru adjusted the hood over his head. He heard Mahiru take a step back and he said, “Open your eyes.”

After he opened his eyes, he found that he had a long jacket hanging from his shoulders. The jacket was made from blue cloth and he recognized Mahiru’s stitching. Kuro slipped his arms through the sleeves and he walked to the river to see the jacket fully. The fur lining on the hood were similar to wolf ears. Mahiru stood next to him and he could see his proud smile in his reflection.

“Usually, I only make fabrics, blankets or tapestries. This is the first time that I tried to make clothes for someone and it turned out better than I thought it would. I wanted to give the hood ears so you will look like a lion. The wolves won’t attack the sheep if they think a lion is protecting them. Though, you’ll have to tell your siblings about this plan so they won’t think you’re a lion attacking the sheep.”

“Thank you, Mahiru. This is great.” Kuro hugged him. Mahiru had created constellations that were admired by millions yet those praises didn’t make him as happy as Kuro’s words now. He returned his hug and buried his face into his chest. He never wanted to leave the haven of his arms. Then, Kuro said: “I have a gift for you too. I was going to give it to you later but this seems like a good time too.”

“You didn’t need to give me anything.” Mahiru said.

“Well, you gave me this jacket.” Kuro let him go. He took Mahiru’s hand and gently tugged him towards the gate. “Humans are holding a festival below. Do you want to go to the festival with me?”

“A festival?” Mahiru had watched humans and festivals from where he wove stars in the sky but he could never walk among them. For a brief moment, he was tempted to go with him and he searched for reasons he could. His father was away from their palace so he wouldn’t discover that he left the sky for a night. He chewed on his lower lip and then asked, “What about our duties?”

“I asked my friend to watch over them while I take you to Earth. Gear is such a cruel friend because he only agreed after I took over three of his shifts.” Kuro chuckled. He squeezed Mahiru’s hand tenderly and reassured him. “You said that you’ve never left this garden before. I want to show you the world. The Heavens won’t miss two servants for a single night.”

“I would love to see the lanterns and fireworks in person.” Mahiru decided to take the risk with Kuro. He took Kuro’s white robe and wore it himself. It wasn’t an elaborate disguise but it should keep him from being recognized. “Let’s go.”

#servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #fanfiction

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revnah1406 · 2 years

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MASON'S LEGACY

Ch 1: Back to Reality

Author's Note: Hello! Before reading I would like to warn that English is not my first language and I am still learning to speak and write it. So maybe you will find some mistakes in this fanfic. If you find it, feel free to correct me.

Summary: Call of Duty black ops 4 never existed. After the Cordis Die incident, and the drone attack. It left the two super powers of the world (the United States and China) in decline. Little did they know that bad news doesn't come alone. In the midst of all the chaos that occurred after the death of Menéndez (Cordis Die), a Soviet terrorist group called Perseus appeared or rather rose from the ashes, although they baptized it as The New Perseus. Hell came to the world, more than half of the human population died in those five years, and the few that remained lost control. Governments disappeared or were overthrown, there were very violent revolts. Presidents and politicians were assassinated. The remaining governments vanished. The world became anarchic, demonstrating how cruel humanity can be when there is no longer order or laws. . The main cities of the countries and the first world fell. Everything remained in a post-apocalyptic world. Now David Mason and his daughter Abby Mason have to face a long journey to return to Alaska and start a new life. On this journey, past and present will merge into one.

WARNING: This fic contains SPOILERS from Call of duty Black Ops 1/2 and Cold War. It will also be inspired by other games such as The Division, The Last of Us, Far cry (There will be no spoilers).

I Also Made a drawing of what Abby Mason would look like and a little bit of information about her: here

I hope you enjoy!

________________

Next Chapter ->

Chapter 1: Back to reality

Words: 6683

Woods sighed, looking out the window of his room. His knees ached more than usual. He felt older than ever, although he had to be reasonable. It made sense. At 95 years old, everything seemed unreal. He was reviewing his life in his head, from the time he ran away from his family in Philadelphia, until he entered the residence. His achievements, his regrets... Everything seemed so distant and yet so vivid to him. Who would have thought that a man like him would live to such a long age. For someone who has been playing dice with death all his life.

A knock on the door of his room brought him out of his thoughts.

"Do not enter…." He demanded sullenly.

But the door opened.

He shook his head in annoyance and dragged the wheelchair toward the door.

"I swear to god, I will shove this wheelchair right up your...!"

"Ass..." Someone finished the sentence for him."

Frank looked up and raised his eyes in surprise.

A girl was in front of him, smiling. The girl was about 13 years old, brown hair, and green eyes. She looked a lot like her father, and even more like her grandfather.

"You have to change your threats, old man." She advised while she laughed.

"May I know what you are doing here at this hour?" Woods raised an eyebrow at the girl.

Not that He didn’t like her presence. Quite the contrary. He forged a deep friendship with her, the moment her father let him carry her in his arms. Frank still remembered when that little girl was just a baby. So inocent in the arms of the old veteran. He always said that he hated babies, but his heart melted at the first glance. She was the most delicate little thing he had ever held in his hands and now she was on her way to becoming a whole woman.

The girl shrugged and ran her hand down the back of her neck.

"I was passing by... And I thought I'd go visit old Woods." She blurted out with feigned innocence.

"Abby…" Frank called her name. "You live more than two hours away. What have you done this time?"

"I didn't do anything! It was...!" She didn't finish the sentence.

She sighed in frustration and sat on the edge of the bed.

Woods approached with the wheelchair, until he was in front of her. He put his calloused old hand on top of Abby's knee, patting it a couple of times.

"Come on. Tell me what happened."

The girl looked away, towards the drawings that were hanging on the wall. Some were hers, from when she was little. Others from when her father was little. She then returned her gaze to the veteran.

"My aunt Mary thinks she can come home. And turn everything upside down. Thinking she's in charge of everything now.” Abby began to explain. “Dad just told her to come by to pick up mom's last belongings. And as soon as she sets foot in the house she starts giving me meaningless orders and complaining like a embittered sergeant. No offense, sir. You're cool."

Frank chuckled and listened. He knew that she didn't have a good relationship with the family of her mother's side. And it got worse when she passed away.

"Never in over seven years has she deigned to stop by. Not even when Mom was in the hospital!”

She was starting to get more upset as she counted.

"And now she thinks she can come home and give me lessons? She never cared about us. No one in that family has. And now she's bossy and criticizing Dad for being a 'Bad Dad.' of his absence in the army. And because of that I have become an extremely rebellious and unbearable girl"

Abby shook her head.

"Dad's just doing his job, saving the world or whatever he does. At least he cares about us."

Woods understood the girl's situation. A few months had passed since her mother had died of cancer. Shortly after her father had to leave for work, as she said: To save the world. Abby stayed at the neighbors' house, and she didn't have permission to visit old man Woods. For the entire security issue and Menéndez's intrusion into The Vault. So the little girl had a hard time. She didn't have her loved ones near her and all of her pain and frustration was building up inside her.

Until finally her father returned home. He had managed to arrest Raúl Menéndez and had left the army. To spend time with his daughter and finally take care of his wife's mourning.

"So…" Frank pointed at her. "You got mad at your aunt. Because she said all those things about you and your father. And your best idea was to run away from home and come here?"

She shrugged.

"The bus ride isn't that expensive and I was starting to miss you." She justified.

The man looked at the girl for a few seconds. And then he let out a laugh.

"My god, Abby Mason."

Woods affectionately ruffled abbys' hair. She smiled. Who would have thought that her dearest friend could turn out to be a tattooed, grumpy, curmudgeonly old war veteran.

"But for now, call your father. We don't want him to worry and give both of us a hard time." Woods ordered. "I'm going to find the nurse. She always hides the fucking cigarettes from me."

Abby obeyed. She told her father that she would spend the afternoon with old Frank, after scolding, she got permission to stay. And so she did. She spent the afternoon with him, and they walked through the gardens of The Vault. As always, Woods telling the war stories and stories of him. They played poker, and as always, Abby complained that the old man always cheated.

It was late, it was getting dark, Abby had to go home. But what they did not expect was to find a man waiting for them in the room. He was old too, wearing a uniform and wearing sunglasses. When he took them off, Abby could see that he was missing an eye.

"Now that’s an entrance…" Woods blurted out, slightly surprised.

The girl looked at both men, not understanding anything. Did they know each other?

"Started Thinking you weren’t gonna make it " Frank kept talking.

He nodded at Abby.

"Go home Kid."

"It’s Okay. She can stay." The unknown man raised a hand.

Abby didn't know what to do. She was a spectator in that room. That man turned his attention back to Woods.

"Mi hermana Josefina." He said as he tossed Frank a heart shaped necklace.

Woods nodded as he grabbed the necklace out of the air.

"Yeah… I’ve been waiting for this."

The old Woods looked at Abby again.

"Go away, this has nothing to do with you." The tone he used this time was more dry and distant.

As if he suddenly didn't know the girl anymore.

"She stays." The other man ordered.

Abby didn't like that. She had a bad feeling.

"Josefina survived the fire..." The one-eyed man kept talking "...For me. I didn't leave her."

There were a few seconds of silence.

"You took her from me."

It was a quiet conversation, considering what it was about.

"And what’d you learn from that?" Woods asked, still knowing the answer.

"What did I learn?" he blurted out with irony.

It all happened so fast, Abby didn't have time to react. The man pulled a gun from his uniform and pointed it at the girl. Frank tried to react in time, reaching out to stop him. But the trigger was faster.

The man shot the girl. On her chest. She fell to the ground, the impact knocked the air out of her. She was bleeding too much. She couldn't stop the bleeding. She was lying on it, her cheek flattened on the cold ground.

"You took everything from me." Menendez turned to the girl.

He crouched down in front of her. Abby was terrified, tears were welling up in her eyes, she couldn't breathe, blood was gushing out of her mouth. The man brushed aside a couple of strands that were getting in the way of the girl's delicate face. She was terrified.

"Abby!" Woods was desperate. "This has nothing to do with her!"

"Frank…" The little girl started crying, desperately seeking help, begging to Woods to save her. Even if it was impossible.

"And I…" Menéndez continued with his speech. "I will take it from you. You will suffer with me."

Abby realized that the last sentence was for her.

"No, no, no. Please... Woods!" she pleaded.

Menendez turned and pulled out a knife. And in a blink. He stabbed Woods in the throat.

"NO!"

Abby woke up. She sat up so fast that she even felt dizzy. She was covered in a cold sweat, she was soaked in sweat. Desperate tears rolled down her cheeks, her pulse was racing, her hands were extremely trembling and she had trouble breathing.

It had happened again. A nightmare, no, a memory that had haunted her for five years.

Suddenly the door opened. Showing the face of a worried father.

"Abby. Are you okay?"

David hurried over to his daughter's side.

He sat down next to her.

Abby looked at her father. She was still scared, this time the dream was more vivid than the last one.

“Fuck..” She muttered, rubbing her face with both hands

David smiled to calm her, to let her know that everything was fine. She started managing to lower her heart rate and regulate her breathing.

It had been a long time since that dream had visited her at night, she believed that she had finally gotten rid of it. But it wasn't true, it simply waited for her to lower her guard to attack with more intensity.

"Are you feeling better now?" David asked.

Abby nodded.

“yeah.”

"Same dream?"

She nodded again.

David sighed. It hurt him to see his daughter like this, he felt frustrated for not being able to do anything. He only comforts her until she manages to get out of that hell.

"I thought it wouldn't happen again.” She spoke with her gaze fixed somewhere in the room.

"I know honey. But it's hard to get rid of these things…"

David was hurt by the loss of Woods. He felt guilty about it. He should have killed Menéndez instead of stopping him. And for that mistake, he also almost lost his daughter. The only thing left to him, the only legacy his wife had left him. The last remaining proof of his love for his wife. And he almost lost her because of him. Only she was left. His father Alex, Woods, his mother, his wife. Everything he loved in this world, it had been taken from him. If he lost his daughter as well, he wouldn't be able to recover.

But he had to be strong, for her. They were alone in that cruel world. They had to keep going and survive.

"What time is it?" she asked, raising her eyes.

The older Mason looked at the watch on his wrist.

"06:30." He answered. "The sun isn't up yet. But we have to get going. We're not safe here."

Abby nodded.

"I'll let you get dressed and get your stuff. Then come to have breakfast, okay?" David continued.

She nodded again as her father placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Are you sure you're okay now?" he asked, taking one last look at her face.

"I'm better. Thanks dad."

She raised her corners, leaving a sad smile.

David looked at her for a few seconds, not very convinced, but then he gave up.

"Okay. I'll let you be." He said goodbye.

Mason got up and ruffled the girl's hair. He then left the room, closing the door behind him.

Abby was silent for a few seconds, without moving, looking around the room. It wasn't even hers. That room didn't belong to anyone, not anymore. Things had ceased to belong to people a long time ago. The place was dusty, messy, with some broken windows and broken furniture... That room had seen better days, but those days are gone. Abby didn't care what the place looked like. It was just a shelter for one night. They were just passing by.

She got out of her sleeping bag. And she put her bare feet on the ground. It was cold, her skin felt goosebumps.

"Dad!" She called out to him "Is it really cold outside?"

She raised her voice so he could hear her through the door. She knew that her father had been awake longer, he used to wake up early in the morning before the sun came up. To patrol the area and make sure there was no danger.

"I believe so!” Her father's voice echoed out of the room. “It even snowed!”

"What?" Abby muttered to herself.

Confused, she walked to the window, sealed with cardboard and duct tape. She peeked through a small hole that wasn't covered with cardboard and peered out. It was true. The streets were snowed. Sprinkled in a layer of soft snow, which covered everything.

The little girl inside her was excited. It had snowed! She hadn't seen snow in a long time. She couldn't wait for her boots to touch the snow. She was sure she could get back at him for that time her father put snow inside her jacket. But the more reasonable part of her told her that this was going to complicate the trip. Walking on snow was more exhausting. In addition to a higher energy expenditure due to the cold. This was not good.

Abby sighed knowing there wasn't much she could do. She turned away from the window and started to change her clothes.

She looked around for her backpack. She soon found it lying near where she had slept. She crouched down in front of it and began to search inside.

It was an old one-shoulder backpack, with only one main strap to hang it from her shoulder. It had rips and patches but was a decent size with plenty of pockets and straps to tie various things to the sides. It was useful, considering it was where she kept all of her belongings. They were no longer at home, that house no longer existed, it was destroyed years ago. The life of a nomad demanded light and essential luggage. She was grateful that her father taught her how to fold clothes and put things away like he did in the navy. Taking up as little space as possible.

Abby's eyes traveled to the backpack strap. A knot tightened in her throat when she saw that piece of cloth. Woods' old bandana wrapped around the strap with a knot. The one he had always used in his missions and operations. Woods always said that he couldn't go on a mission without his bandana.

Abby stroked the fabric, it was all she had left of the old veteran. The nightmare replayed in her head.

"How did you deal with your demons, old man?" She whispered into the air.

It was a question for a ghost that now only was resting.

She shook her head and went back to what she should do. She took out of the backpack, the clothes that she had to put on. She dressed quietly, black cargo pants, a basic brown T-shirt, and an old light brown sweatshirt. She made sure to tuck the bottom of the shirt into her pants. Preventing the cold from creeping in. She then sat down on the floor and put on some thick socks and shoes. Combat boots her father got her a couple of years ago. They were sturdy, with thick soles and nearly indestructible laces. It was a good and durable shoe, but that didn't mean calluses and sores would form on Abby's poor feet in the long run.

When she finished dressing she put all of her belongings in her backpack, making sure to fold them correctly so that it didn't take up too much space. When she was done, she took one last look, checking to make sure nothing was left behind. Climbing rope, carabiners, gas mask... Then she walked until she stood in front of a dusty mirror. She reached over to brush the dust off the glass so she could show the reflection of her face.

It was amazing how much she had changed in five years. Physically and psychologically.

So much had happened in that period of time...

Discarding the obvious physical change due to age. Abby's skin was more damaged. She had scars, bruises and marks...Scattered all over her body. Signs of a hard and dangerous life. But the one that stood out the most was a gunshot wound to her chest, near her right shoulder.

Her complexion had changed as well. Her shoulders were broader, as were her arms and legs. She had built muscle over those years. Not because she wanted to. This way of life simply demanded great physical effort from her. And if she wasn't up to the task, it could be fatal.

Her face changed too. Abby’s jaw had widened a little. Her features were no longer so smooth. But she still had the face of an 18-year-old girl. Her green eyes, now wrapped in a slight red tint from the lack of sleep. Her hair was no longer what it used to be. Those long brown locks had been cut off. Her hair was very short. It was shaved on the sides and back of the neck, and cut short on top, the strands sticking out in all directions.

Her father used to cut it with scissors and a blade. She had to admit that over time he had gained practice and was getting better at it. Abby decided to cut it off when she realized that her long hair was impractical. She didn't have time to take care of it and she already lost all her hair ties. She now didn't have to worry about any of that.

With her hands she tried to put some order in her hair. But it seemed that those strands were not willing to cooperate. She gave in with a sigh and let it go. She was ready to go. She believed until she remembered one last thing.

She walked over to the backpack again and picked it up, picking up what was under it and looking at it for a few seconds. Between her hands was a pistol holster, with the respective weapon stored. It had several straps so it could be tied around her waist and thigh.

The world is no longer what it was. Now everything is hostile and it tries to kill you so it can keep your things. It’s eat or be eaten. Abby had to use it more times than she would like. Her father taught her how to use it when she was 14, though there wasn't much of a mystery.

She tied the gun sheath on her thigh. She adjusted the straps well. The weight of the gun on her thigh was a reminder that sometimes you had to kill to survive. A feeling she didn't like at all.

"Hurry up Abby!" Her father's voice outside her room brought her out of her thoughts.

"I'm coming!" she answered.

She slung her backpack over her shoulder and took one last look around the place before grabbing the doorknob and leaving. She came across a scene similar to the one in the room. An abandoned apartment, with broken furniture and glass. All wrapped in the silence and mist of the morning. There was hardly any sunlight, the sun had not risen but the first rays began to show up.

She walked down the hall until she reached the living room. Her father was getting ready and putting away his things.

"Come on. Have some breakfast." He told her pointing with his chin at the food on the table.

Abby put her backpack down on one chair and sat down on another.

"Dry meet? Again?"

She looked at the food with a bored expression.

"Oh, excuse me miss. Do you want me to make you some pancakes? And some bacon?" David blurted out ironically.

The girl just rolled her eyes. To which Mason smirked.

Abby took some of the cured sausage and started her breakfast. She couldn't really complain, supplies were hard to come by. Getting long shelf life food was even more difficult. More than one night she had to go to sleep with an empty stomach, and even resort to hunting if the opportunity arose.

David ended up packing his backpack as well. He approached the table carrying two rifles. Abby watched as she finished her portion of food.

"Yesterday I cleaned them." the elder explained.

He rested one of the rifles on the side of the table, next to Abby. That was hers. The other rifle was a sniper rifle, with a telescopic sight, that was used by her father.

"Tie it to your backpack when you're done. We'll head out as soon as you're done."

She nodded.

When she finished, she did as her father told her, loading the rifle into one of the sides of the backpack, making sure it was securely fastened.

"Come on, wrap up."

When Abby looked up to her father, he handed her a jacket. A big old denim jacket, and lined with thick wool on the inside. Abby had used it countless times, it was her favorite, it had a couple of small holes but nothing serious. What she liked most about that jacket was a small badge that adorned one of her chest pockets. That ornament was very crappy, it was a beer cap attached to a safety pin. It had written in bold letters: "Congrats! You've won a Free Beer!" Her father made it for her on her last birthday as a gift.

She accepted the jacket and draped it over her, making sure to tuck the hood of the sweatshirt over her shoulders.

Then David handed her some gloves and a black beanie. She accepted them too, pulling the gloves and beanie over her head, making sure to cover her ears. She buttoned her jacket and slung the backpack over her shoulder, across her back. She waited for her father to bundle up properly as well. It was not good to have pneumonia in those days.

David put on his well-known greenish-brown jacket, beanie, and gloves. He placed his pack properly and the rifle strap over one of her shoulders. He also had a pistol strapped to his thigh.

"Ready?"

Abby nodded.

They both left the apartment, went down the stairs of the apartment block, some parts of the stairs were down. So they had to jump over them.

"Watch where you step." advised David.

They managed to get out of the building, finally reaching the street. The cold was the first thing to reach them. Then there was the incredible view of the city of Washington DC. Those big buildings, the skyscrapers, streets full of billboards. Everything made Abby open her mouth in astonishment.

But that big city was silent. There was no one on the streets, everything was desolate, not a single soul was walking around except for the little family of two. The great skyscrapers threatened to fall at some point, the abandoned buildings and streets, many of them destroyed or in very bad condition. There were wrecked or abandoned cars on the road. Storefronts were smashed, and nearly every subway entrance was demolished.

They were the echoes of a war. A war that was no longer being waged but people still suffered its consequences.

Five years ago, after Menéndez escaped from his prison and culminated his revenge on Frank Woods, a new threat appeared. it was not known where they had appeared from, a group of terrorists called The New Perseus. Cordis Die was child's game compared to what was to come later. Perseus put the whole world under their feet, took control of the combat drones and bombs of the most powerful countries, the United States, Russia and China, causing tensions and fights between countries, starting another world war. Perseus unleashed global pandemics, and released Nova 6 throughout the world's major cities.

Hell came to the world, more than half of the human population died in those five years, and the few that remained lost control. Governments disappeared or were overthrown, there were very violent riots. Presidents and politicians were killed. The remaining governments vanished. The world became anarchic, showing how cruel humanity can become when there is no longer order or law. And the only thing that remains is panic.

The main cities of the countries and the first world fell. Everything was left in a post-apocalyptic world.

Luckily, after the first three years, everything began to calm down, one day surprisingly there were no more massive terrorist acts. People began to think that they should group together to survive, restore order a little, they formed groups, alliances among themselves. Little by little, calm returned to a destroyed world, which was trying to get up again, but would never be the same again. No countries, no borders, no society.

Washington DC, like the rest of the big cities, had become a ghost town. The silence of the streets was proof of that. Abby and David walked through the city, watching windows, corners, and alleys.

At any moment they could be ambushed. People began to organize themselves into different alliances. Groups that fought against other groups for survival. Civil wars were the usual. That is why every time they went to a new city, they had to know which organizations controlled the city, which territories were neutral and which were not. Look for allies in the groups that could give them information, find the alliances that were peaceful and those that were hostile. But that did not remove the risk of being attacked by one of those organizations. They were an easy target, just two travelers. They were like a piece of meat in a cage full of lions. That is why they had to be very careful.

"Are you sure that guy was telling the truth?" Abby asked, not very convinced.

She walked beside her father, jumping over the odd barricade of rubble.

“What other option do we have? It's the only lead we have.” He replied.

"Of course, why trust a fucking drunk man who says that we will find a pilot willing to travel to Alaska when we find the ... What is their name again?"

"Wolves."

"Wolves? What kind of a name is that for an alliance? They don't have a lot of imagination if I’m honest…" Abby complained.

David chuckled and glanced at his daughter.

"According to that guy, they're peaceful people and the biggest organization around here, they sit inside the White House."

"Inside the White House?!"

"It seems so"

"Well, yes, they did a great job I guess…" assured the youngest.

Abby kicked a rock as they walked, and David didn't take his eyes off the broken windows. He had a bad feeling.

"And that pilot is supposed to have a plane or a helicopter with enough fuel to cross half the United States and then all of Canada? And he'll be willing to fly us?" She asked, not very sure.

David sighed.

"We won't know until we get there. That guy told us that he was a smuggler pilot and would soon be flying to Alaska for supplies."

"Of course... Sorry if I don't fucking trust him very much. Our luck hasn't been very good lately." Said Abby "Who knows, maybe we'll get shot before we can set foot in the White House."

"Technically they aren’t very hostile people and they are dedicated to welcoming refugees."

David and his daughter had been looking for transportation to travel to Alaska. To the place where David grew up with his father. There the situation seemed to be calmer, it would be a better place to settle down and start again.

Abby kicked the rock harder and shoved it under a burned-out car. She winced that her fun was over.

They walked for a long time through the abandoned streets. Little by little the wind grew, howling between the buildings. The sky clouded over as the morning passed. Abby put her hands under her armpits to try to keep them warm.

"This weather is fucking crazy…" she murmured.

"Yeah... These snowstorms aren't normal." David answered. "Stay close."

There was something in the environment that he didn't like. He felt as if someone was watching them.

David pointed to the entrance to an abandoned shopping center.

"Let's go inside and see what we find." he advised. "We'd better leave the streets for now."

Abby nodded, agreeing with him. She didn’t like the situation either.

They both entered. The building was large, there was rubble everywhere, the windows were broken and the walls were cracked. The view of a dilapidated shopping mall. The place was eerily silent. Sunlight streamed in through skylights in the roof, most of them broken, and bits of window litter scattered across the mall's polished floor.

"Stay alert." David ordered pulling out the gun.

Abby did the same as her father.

The silence kept all of Abby's senses on guard. She followed David very close. They walked looking at the shop windows, the abandoned shops and restaurants.

"Maybe we can find something useful around here." David said, looking at his daughter, showing a slight smile.

Abby knew there was something more.

"Did you find any snipers watching us from a rooftop?"

she asked.

David shook his head.

"No, but I had a feeling something bad was going to happen if we stayed that exposed. The sun is up already, there must be patrols around here." David explained

Abby didn't answer.

They continued exploring the mall. They searched the shops looking for something that could be useful for the trip. But almost all the stores had already been looted. They searched the first floor, found some duct tape and batteries for the flashlights. Then they went up the broken escalator, to the second floor.

Abby was rummaging through the drawers of a store cash register. She found a good amount of money. She let out a light chuckle.

"Hey dad."

David turned to see his daughter. Who showed him a wad of bills.

"Do you mind if we buy some souvenirs?"

David chuckled and walked over to Abby. He took the money and played with it for a while. The money had lost all value. It was no longer used anymore. Everything began to have a different price after the fall of governments. Now it was traded with barter and exchange of goods.

"Sure, we can go to the movies too. What was the name of that movie you liked so much? The one about space."

"Interstellar?"

"Yeah, that one. Would you like to watch it again?"

"Fuck yes. I miss going to the movies."

David chuckled.

"Although I like Star Trek more."

"My god dad... I still don't understand why mom married a man who likes Star Trek." Abby rolled her eyes.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, just that Star Wars is better."

David raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! Bad guys are cooler. Darth Vader is the best villain."

Abby cleared her throat and faked Darth Vader's artificial breathing.

"Luke, I am your father." She said in a slightly deeper voice.

David laughed and shook his head.

"Someday I'll use that phrase with you."

"Okay, but don't cut my hand off with a lightsaber."

"I don’t promise anything."

Abby put her hand on her chest pretending to be offended.

"My God... Betrayed by my own father..."

This time it was David who rolled his eyes.

"Come on. Let's not waste any more time."

Abby started to answer but the sound of breaking glass stopped her. They both fell silent, not moving a single muscle.

"We aren’t alone."

David reached for the rifle that hung from the side of his daughter's backpack. He made sure the gun was loaded.

"Don't get away from me." David whispered.

Abby nodded and kept her index finger on the trigger of the gun. They both left the store in silence, watching their steps. Trying not to step on broken glass or trip over any debris.

David took a look before leaving the store. He motioned for Abby to follow him.

"We'll try to get out without attracting attention."

They heard voices downstairs. David looked over the railing that led to the floor below. He found a patrol of five men. They seemed to be alert, as if they were looking for someone. They were probably looking for the two of them.

"There are five armed men." David informed when he returned with his daughter.

"What do we do?" Abby frowned.

David didn't have time to answer because the sound of a gunshot interrupted him. The bullet grazed Abby's cheek, leaving a superficial cut on her cheek, a small part of her ear was missing too. Blood Started running on her cheek.

"Found them!" The man who had fired the shot yelled.

"Take cover!" David pushed his daughter behind a large stone planter that must have served as a decoration for the mall. David also took coverage with his daughter.

"Don't you dare raise your head."

In just the blink of an eye the mall was filled with gunfire. David aimed accurately and fired. Trying to use as few bullets as possible. They were short of ammunition. David killed two men. Abby kept her head down, just as her father had ordered, with the gun ready.

The other three men went up to the second floor without stopping shooting.

"Stay here. Don't move." David ordered.

He took advantage of the moment when the enemies were reloading their weapons to advance. He jumped over the stone planter and ran to take cover behind a pillar.

"You little piece of shit!" The voice of a sixth man echoed through the mall.

David turned toward the voice. Abby found herself wrestling with a man twice her size. He had a knife in one hand, swinging from side to side. Abby dodged as best she could. She had lost the gun at some point in the fight. Whenever she got the chance, she would throw a punch into the man's ribs.

David wanted to intervene but the rest of the enemies wouldn’t let him move from the site. If he moved an inch, they would shoot him.

Abby was nimble and quick, but a carelessness caused her to lose her rhythm. The man grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and threw her several meters into the air. Abby landed so hard the air was forced out of her lungs. She didn't have time to recover as the man lunged at her with the knife pointed at her throat. Abby used all her strength to push the knife away from her, but the man was stronger and the blade kept getting closer. Suddenly Abby kicked the man's balls with her knee. She took advantage of that moment of weakness to take the knife from the man and with a quick movement, she plunged it into his throat. Abby could see how life drained from the man's face, how the blood came out of his neck and mouth. As soon as she pulled the knife out of her neck, she kicked the man's body as far away from her as possible. Abby backed away. She watched as that man was surrounded by a pool of blood.

The two men fired again. The bullets blew off pieces of the column. David took the right opportunity, took aim and fired. With two clean shots that went through the heads of both men.

When the silence returned David ran to his daughter.

"Abby!"

The girl spit out some blood on the floor. Her hands were shaking due to adrenaline.

“Fucking bastard.”

David knelt in front of her, blocking her view of the bleeding man on the ground.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

David began to inspect his daughter. He was very worried.

"I’m ok. The ribs hurt but that’s all” She sighed. She clenched her jaw.

"Hey."

David took the girl's face with both hands, checking that wound made by that bullet.

It wasn’t the first time that she had killed someone, but she never got used to the feeling.

David noticed that she was lost in her thoughts.

"Close your heart." David said in a soft voice. "He would have killed you if you hadn't done it first."

Abby nodded with her eyes fixed on that dead man.

"Can you continue?"

Abby nodded and sighed, closing her eyes.

"Yeah... Let's get out of here."

David nodded and got up. He grabbed the knife that was on the ground and wiped the blade on the man's corpse's clothing. He looked at the knife. It was a steel butterfly knife. It seemed of good quality. He folded the knife away, hiding the blade, and handed it to Abby.

"You're going to need it. This won't be the last time." David said. Abby had lost her knife a couple months ago, it was a good opportunity to get a new one.

Abby looked at the knife for a few seconds and grabbed it. She played with it a little bit. Then she went to pick up her gun that was lying somewhere.

David took it upon himself to search the bodies for anything that might be useful. Abby helped.

"Hey, look at this." David called her.

Abby walked over to where her father was. Near David's feet was the dead body of one of the men who attacked them.

"What is it about?" she asked

"Look at their jackets. They all have the same patch."

David pointed to a little drawing of an animal etched into one of the corpse's shoulders.

"It's a dog?"

"No, it's a hyena. And they all have the same animal."

"Do you think they are part of a larger group?"

He nodded.

David looked up and looked around until he found some stairs that led to the upper floors.

"I think we can go up to the roof over there. Let's take a look at the city."

They went up to the roof in silence..

When they got to the roof. They both got to see a view of Washington D.C. Abby was looking at the buildings until David pointed to something in the distance. She tried to focus her eyes, until she finally saw a large white building with a large dome and no building around it.

"That's where we're going. The White House."

#frank woods #cod bocw #black ops cold war #russell adler #call of duty cold war #call of duty #david mason #alex mason #helen park #grigori weaver #jason hudson #cod bo2 #cod bo4 #mason's legacy

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years

Text

Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: underage drinking, angst, hoseok’s bare abs

Word Count: 10,705

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

“Okay, even you have to admit this is too soon.” Finn stared, appalled at the chalkboard. “It’s not even Halloween!”

Laughing a little, you looped your arm around his to drag him towards the back. Plopping down in a chair, you placed your order number in the center of the table. Seating himself across the table from you, Finn began to undo his coat.

“Come on.” He grinned, brown hair flopping when he leaned forward. “Admit it – this is too early for holiday drinks.”

“Okay, maybe it’s a little early,” you acquiesced. “But Halloween is tomorrow! They probably just put up the holiday drinks so they don’t have to do it on Sunday.”

“Laziness!” he cried, jabbing a finger in the air.

Shaking your head, you smiled when Namjoon, the barista, placed a pumpkin soy latte before you.

“Thanks!” you said, pulling this towards you.

“No problem,” he said, flashing his dimples before he turned to leave.

Taking a long, slow sip of your drink, you groaned. “Oh my god. This is it. This is heaven.”

Finn laughed. “Is that seriously your first pumpkin drink of the season?” Sadly, he shook his head. “I remember our senior year, you dragged me out of bed at 7:00 AM on a Saturday just to get the first pumpkin drink of the year.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ve needed the extra caffeine jolt each morning. Sweet drinks just don’t cut it anymore.”

“Ah, the first step in addiction.” Finn nodded sagely.

Smiling, you settled back in your seat as he took the first sip of his black coffee. It had been two weeks since your fight at the club and since then, Finn had been on his best behavior. For about a week, things between you had been awkward but slowly, your relationship was returning to normal.

Seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop, you drank from your cup and glanced around the room. This was what you’d pictured when you imagined you and Finn living in the city together. Coffee dates, going on new adventures and continuing your relationship where it had left off.

Of course, this morning was only possible because Miss Britt’s ballet class had been cancelled. A contemporary master class had been scheduled for the afternoon, but your day before then was free – something you’d immediately taken advantage of by calling Finn. It was becoming easier to fit each other into your schedules, more like second nature, but things were still tense whenever things didn’t line up.

None of this was eased by the burgeoning whatever-it-was you’d shoved to the back of your mind regarding Jimin. Since the day of Mr. Vlad’s ballet class, you’d managed to keep your emotions in check, but were constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. You and Jimin were professionals, obviously, but you were also only human. It was reasonable to have subconscious wants and desires, but these weren’t important unless you chose to act upon them.

You didn’t tell Finn about it because honestly, there was nothing to tell. Okay, so you’d felt an errant spark one day during a lift. Big deal. Finn had been your boyfriend for over two years – it would take more than that to threaten your relationship. A relationship which, frankly, had been getting stronger as of late. Telling him something as inconsequential as a spark you had with Jimin would only take you further down the wrong path.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing separate things tomorrow?” Finn interrupted your thoughts. His brow furrowed. “It is Halloween, after all.”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded. “Halloween, the internationally known couple’s holiday.”

He laughed. “Okay, point made – but still.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. This was something you’d already been over. “It just makes sense like this! Your friends are going to that off-campus party and I promised Noelle I’d go to this club thing with her.”

“Right, of course.” Finn grinned. “I’m bummed I’ll miss seeing you as the Powerpuff girls, though. Who’s going to be the third one, again?”

“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Miss Responsibility.”

A twinge of annoyance went through you, but you pushed it aside. You didn’t think you were always the responsible one but admittedly, you’d been more on edge than usual lately.

“Anyways,” you continued with a roll of your eyes. “I’m Blossom, Noelle is Buttercup and Irene is going as Bubbles. It’ll be fun! Aside from the whole club part, of course.”

“It does sound fun,” Finn admitted, a tad mournful. “Meanwhile, I’ve been roped into the classic college bro costume of Ghostbusters.”

“Oh, come on! That is classic! You’ll be super cute in your… suit? Cargo pants? What do Ghostbusters wear again?”

“Knowing Ben, something tragic from Party City. Pray for me.”

“I’ll light candles.”

Finn grinned, sipping his coffee again and your conversation slipped naturally to other topics.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant every college campus was gearing up for some epic parties. Noelle had managed to snag tickets to a club fancy enough to require an RSVP. Apparently, said brother she missed was a DJ and could get tickets to a lot of things if Noelle bothered to ask.

A bunch of people from Russet were going, which made you excited. There hadn’t been many parties with your classmates so far this semester. Despite technically being in college, your classmates were all under the same intense pressure, only made worse by constant early morning ballet.

This week though, even your teachers seemed to have decided you needed a break. Aside from the master class you had this afternoon, there were zero Russet classes until Monday morning. The break in schedule meant you could actually go out – and drink – if you so decided. You and Noelle were planning on attending a ballet class tomorrow, but your entire day after would be free.

You’d originally planned on seeing Finn during the day, but then he’d been invited to a Halloween darty (day party) starting at noon. Despite not seeing Finn on Halloween, you weren’t feeling stressed. It was only one holiday and not even a couple’s one, as you’d said.

After coffee, you kissed Finn goodbye and headed to class at Danley Hall. The atmosphere was different as soon as you entered the classroom – all of the students were buzzing, excited by the prospect of the weekend ahead. The excitement only grew when coupled with the fact that today’s class was contemporary.

For nearly two months, your training had been mostly ballet. This was the foundation of all western dance, and where most dance students were expected to start. Finally though, you were being given a chance to show off. Today’s teacher, Luna Jordan, was a well-known contemporary choreographer across the globe.

You’d done a master class with her once back in high school and honestly couldn’t wait to learn from her again. She wasn’t alone, though, you noticed as you walked in – an unfamiliar, dark-haired guy stood beside her, stretching lithely before the room’s mirror.

“Holy shit,” Noelle whispered as she came to a stop. “That’s Jeon Jungkook.”

Startled, you looked twice and saw she was right. You hadn’t recognized him without his bevy of followers, but Jeon Jungkook was known in the dance world. A child prodigy, he’d been on America’s Got Talent at age eleven and finished in second place. Following this, his family had moved to LA and he’d been in high demand for movies, music videos and performances ever since.

You remembered hearing he worked with Luna Jordan, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before now that he might be here.

Noelle cocked her head to one side. “He’s hot.”

“Noelle,” you hissed, trying to shush her.

“What!” A devious grin spread across her face. “Am I supposed to be blind, as well as mute?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Alright, everyone!” Miss Luna clapped her hands together. “I know everyone is excited for the weekend, but we unfortunately have an hour and a half together before then. Everyone spread out for warm-ups!”

A few people laughed, spreading out on the floor as class began. Noelle wriggled her eyebrows, pulling you towards the front in order to get the best spot. Hiding a smile, you ducked your head and settled beside her into a stretch.

Noelle was nearly as excited as you were for the opportunity to dance contemporary. Most of your classmates knew this to be your forte – you caught glances from the corner of your eye while you warmed up, trying not to let their attention get to your head.

Jimin was also near the front, although on the opposite side. You suspected your class was equally excited to see him perform – as talented as Jimin was at ballet, there was a reason you hadn’t thought he’d be at Russet this fall. Jimin’s strength in jazz and contemporary was unparalleled. You would’ve thought he’d gone to LA to become a dancer like Jungkook.

Speaking of whom – Jungkook really was attractive; that much couldn’t be denied. He had dark, wavy hair pulled into a bun and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. When he glanced up from his stretch, his gaze somehow found yours and he smiled.

Eyes widening, you stared until you caught sight of Jimin behind him. Glancing between the two of you, Jimin’s expression soured before he looked away. Lips parting, you felt the sudden urge to say something, but there was too much distance between you.

“You ready?” Miss Luna called, an upbeat pop song blasting from the stereo. “Let’s go!”

She launched into isolations, leaving the rest of the class to follow. Warm-ups passed quickly and before you knew it, you were gathered at center to learn the combination. Miss Luna’s style was right up your alley. The steps came easily and, once you’d learned the whole chorus, she left you alone to practice.

You were helping Ari with a difficult move when you caught sight of Sabrina as you turned. She’d positioned herself near the back, which had to be a first. Usually, Sabrina was front and center to allow for maximum receipt of teacher praise.

The decision to stand near the back could’ve been strategy – sometimes, dancers did that at conventions. Conventions were giant weekends of competition with teachers from all over the globe who taught master classes to hundreds of dancers in hotel ballrooms and convention centers. Space at the front tended to be limited, so some stayed at the back, where there was more room to dance and be seen. You had a greater likelihood to capture the teacher’s attention when you had the room to do incredible leaps.

Sabrina’s decision didn’t seem strategic, though. While you watched, Sabrina stumbled transitioning from one move to the next. A brief twinge of pity went through you.

It was easy enough to spot ballerinas dancing anything but ballet. Although ballet was the root of modern westernized dance, it could be hard to translate into other styles. Ballet was more rigid than contemporary, jazz or hip-hop. In ballet, each position was defined, individual style was limited, and dancers were expected to all look the same. Standing out in the corps de ballet was equally frowned upon as missing an entrance.

Not that ballet wasn’t important to all dance styles, mind you. Even hip-hop dancers took ballet to improve their balance, core strength and general understanding of the body. There was an element of individuality in other dance styles, though, which lacked in ballet. Contemporary and hip-hop dancers were expected to have relentless technique all while creating their own, unique flair.

Just looking at Sabrina you could clearly see the holes. She was trying so hard to emulate the moves of Miss Luna, she was kind of missing the point. When Miss Luna did a certain flick of the wrist, it wasn’t a defined part of the choreography, but rather an individual choice.

Without thinking, you took a step forward – only to stop. Sabrina wouldn’t want your help; she’d already made that abundantly clear. Besides, you knew her friend Katie to be a contemporary dancer. She could help Sabrina and yet, when you looked, you saw Katie practicing near the front with Jungkook.

Jungkook obviously knew the steps, since this was probably the tenth time he’d learned the combination. Dance teachers often did that – selected a dancer to attend classes with them, traveling to different cities to demonstrate the combination and help when they weren’t free.

Before you could decide whether to help Sabrina, Miss Luna clapped her hands again.

“Let’s do groups!” she declared. “I’ll count you off into groups of four, and each group will showcase. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question so much as an announcement. The rest of the class nodded, waiting while Miss Luna counted you off. You ended up in the same group as Irene, Paulo and a few others. Jimin and Noelle were in the group two, while Sabrina was in the group after theirs.

Jogging off to the side, you waited while the first group took center. You were part of group four, which meant you’d be amongst the last to dance on the floor. When the music began, you closed your eyes and began to mark the combination. You tried not to focus on what anyone else was doing, but this became difficult once Noelle’s group stepped up.

Noelle had trained in jazz and contemporary, although she’d stopped in high school to focus mainly on ballet. Still, her artistry shone in her movement. She could definitely stand to loosen up a bit but was still one of the best in the bunch. You found yourself smiling when she landed a turn, silently cheering her on from the side.

While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.

Dropping to the ground, he rolled and arched as his forehead brushed wood. His quality of movement was breathtaking and for a moment, you felt like you were back in high school.

Suddenly returned to those dimmed auditoriums, you watched Jimin take the stage like an otherworldly being. His body seemed to move before your mind could comprehend. Barely did he finish one move before he was starting another, the steps flowing endlessly together like unhindered water. Although you knew the combination and knew how you would dance it, watching Jimin perform was a different experience entirely.

Ballet required dancers to stay on the beat but in contemporary, they were expected to lag. Extensions were all the more breathtaking when they clung to the last second, seeming as though the dancer might not make it before they caught up. Jimin was an expert in this, knowing exactly when to hang precariously over the edge and when to pull back.

Watching him dance, that pesky, strange something bloomed in your chest again.

Squashing this quickly, you looked away and resumed marking the combo. The end of the song was improvisation though and, unable to stop yourself, you found your attention drifting to Jimin again. He was ridiculously beautiful – you nearly didn’t hear when Miss Luna called for them to stop. As she turned off the music, she applauded the group while they walked from the floor.

Breathing heavily, Noelle came to a stop alongside you and – somewhat guiltily, since you hadn’t been watching – you gave her a high-five.

“That was awesome!” you said with a grin. “You definitely stood out in the group.”

Noelle snort-laughed. “Not with Jimin up there, but that’s okay. This is his specialty – and yours,” she added with a wink. “I’m psyched for group four.”

“Ah,” you groaned, rubbing your neck. “Too much pressure.”

Noelle laughed, shaking her head as group three took the floor. Both of you fell silent to watch, your curious gaze finding Sabrina in the back. Sabrina looked almost nervous; an emotion which seemed out of place on her features. It made her look almost human.

As soon as the music began, you stifled a wince. Sabrina stood out from the group, and not in a good way. She had the combination down but moved with a woodenness you would’ve expected from someone half her age. It was enough for you to glance at Miss Luna, wondering if she had noticed.

“Wow,” Noelle whispered, looking almost gleeful. “Sabrina is terrible.”

“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.

“What? After everything she’s done? After everything she’s said?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Sabrina deserves this.”

Despite privately agreeing, you couldn’t help but feel bad as Sabrina continued. Not wanting to watch any longer, you turned towards the front and resumed marking the combo. As soon as Miss Luna cut the music and polite clapping ensued, you turned back around.

It was time for group four. A shaky, sick feeling entered your stomach as you walked to center. So many eyes were on you, but it had been so long since you danced contemporary. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were as good as people seemed to imagine. Surrounded by so many dancers at Russet, surely your own talent would pale in comparison.

As soon as the music began though, everything faded. Insecurities slipping away, a lightness entered your chest as, eyes falling shut, you slowly inhaled.

Taking a step forward, you opened your eyes and began.

To you, dance had several phases. The first was learning, where you memorized each step and put them in order. The second was understanding, where your muscle memory began to take over and the combination felt smoother. The final phase, performance, was when you thought not of the steps, and were free to just dance.

This was your favorite phrase. In this phase, your mind separated from your body, leaving you only with sweat and emotion. Dance was the only art form composed solely of the body. An odd combination of physical strength and artistic beauty, it was both a testament to human capability and human emotion.

Losing yourself in the music, you ebbed and flowed through the combination until the choreography ended and improvisation began. Finally, you let go and held nothing back. Raw, unbridled passion poured out as you lost sight of yourself, so consumed by the movement.

When the song finally finished and you came to a stop, you were panting for breath. Glancing up, the first person you saw was Jimin.

He stood off to one side, leaning casually against the rungs of the barre, but his expression was anything but. Focused on you, his gaze had turned dark in a way which made you catch your breath.

Miss Luna clapped both hands once again, returning your attention to her. Blinking, Jimin shook his head and in your peripheral, you saw him straighten.

“Very good!” Miss Luna scanned the group. “I know our time is nearly at and end, but why don’t we have a few students come out and demonstrate?”

Again, this was fairly common in master classes. After learning the combination, teachers would often single out students to perform as examples. It wasn’t always the students with the best technique who got chosen. Oftentimes, it was as much for passion and performance quality.

Taking a step forward, Miss Luna began to call out names. You were one of the first – setting your water down, you jogged back to center. Jimin was the next person called, then Noelle, much to your excitement. Jungkook was also instructed to join on the floor.

Turning the lights halfway down, Miss Luna pressed play and let you improvise until the combination began. Jungkook started dancing and honestly, he was beautiful, but you couldn’t linger on him for long.

Catching sight of Jimin again, you were once more transported to earlier times. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called out together. Oftentimes, this had happened at conventions but back then, your mind had been too clouded to see him for who he was.

You’d always wanted to beat him in high school, but now, you were consumed by the oddest desire to see him do well.

Glancing up, Jimin caught your gaze and he smiled – but then, the combination began.

By the time you were finished, you could hardly catch your breath but somehow, you felt the most alive you’d been in ages. Back in your own element, surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world – this was what you’d imagined when you came to Russet.

People around the room clapped, some of them begrudgingly. You got the impression many of your classmates weren’t used to not being chosen. As you walked from the floor, you saw surprisingly, Sabrina wasn’t amongst them.

Instead, Sabrina simply looked tired – as though she’d tried her best and it hadn’t been enough. You knew that look. You sympathized with that look.

The look lingered in the back of your mind while you packed up your things and listened to Noelle discuss Halloween tomorrow. When she mentioned Ari had decided to visit her family this weekend, an idea began to form in your mind.

“Wait,” you interrupted, looking up. “Ari can’t come tomorrow?”

Noelle shook her head. “Her brother just turned eighteen, so her whole family is having a party or something.”

“So… her ticket is free, then?”

“Yes…” Noelle paused. “Why? Y/N, what are you planning?”

“Okay. Hear me out,” you said as you shrugged on your coat. It was cold enough now for the coat to be necessary.

Noelle sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, I’m listening.”

Glancing away, you saw Sabrina packing her things on the other side of the room. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you returned to Noelle.

“What if we invited Sabrina?”

Noelle snorted. “Pass.”

“Noelle,” you laughed, reaching out for her arm. “Come on! Do you really think she’s doing anything for Halloween?”

“Probably not. And that’s her own fault.”

“Maybe,” you said, glancing at Sabrina once more. “But how could it hurt? We have an extra ticket, there’ll be tons of people tomorrow night. She’ll probably say no – at least this way, you can claim a write-off on your way into heaven!”

Noelle upper lip twitched. “Oh, is that how write-offs work?”

“Well, I can only assume.”

Finally, she laughed. “Ugh, fine. You can invite her – but only because it’s Halloween, and Halloween is a time for peace. And slutty costumes.”

“Thanks, babe,” you said, squeezing her waist in a one-armed hug.

Sighing exaggeratedly, Noelle waved aside your thanks. Hiking your bag higher, you began to make your way across the room. As you closed in on Sabrina, you began to rethink your choice. It had been nearly a month since anything bad had happened between you but still, you found yourself feeling wary. As tough as you pretended to be, rejection hurt you just as much as the next person.

Still, dancing with Jimin had been a reminder of just how bitter your relationship used to be. If that relationship could change, you had to imagine things with Sabrina could, too.

Coming to a stop at her bag, you waited for her to look up. When she finally did, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“What?” Sabrina asked, sounding defensive. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You couldn’t really blame her for her suspicion. Had your situations been reversed, you would’ve been equally distrustful. It was likely Sabrina thought you were coming over to gloat, or say something to do with class today. Another twinge of pity went through you as Sabrina zipped her bag shut to stand.

“I just wanted to know what you were doing tomorrow,” you said, trying to smile. “Noelle has an extra ticket to a Halloween party, and we thought you might like to come.”

Sabrina stared. “What?”

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” you said, a bit slower. “You know – when we were kids, it was all about costumes and candy. Now, it’s about costumes and booze?”

Sabrina failed to crack a smile. “And you want… me to come to this party?”

Something about the way she said this made you sad, as though she genuinely thought this might be a joke. As though at any moment, someone might jump out and yell SIKE.

“Yeah,” you said, softening a little. “Look – it’s not a big deal if you can’t make it. A bunch of our class is going though, so we thought of you.”

Sabrina hesitated, then glanced at the door. “Okay,” she said, looking back. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come.”

Stifling your surprise, you nodded. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow before the club. Wear a costume,” you added before walking away. “Noelle said it’s required.”

“Alright,” Sabrina said, so quiet you almost missed it.

Walking away, you were nearly at the door when Jungkook popped up before you. Flashing a smile, he fixed a loose strand of hair away from his face. Feet fumbling to a stop, you could only stare.

“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.

Unable to find the words, you blinked in response. The way Jungkook danced had been so confident, you’d only assumed this to be his off-floor persona, as well. Hearing him sound shy was unexpected.

Also – you hadn’t expected him to know your name.

“I… yeah, that’s me.” Shaking your head, you smiled. “Jungkook, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m such a big fan of your dancing. It was great to take class with you today.”

Without meaning to, a laugh escaped your lips. Jungkook stared at you, baffled until you quickly waved him off.

“Oh, no – no! Sorry,” you said. “I’m not laughing at you! I’m just laughing at the ridiculousness of you saying you’re a fan of me.”

Some of Jungkook’s wariness disappeared, and a small smile played across his lips.

“Well, I am.” His grin widened. “I used to assist on the convention circuit, too and I remember you being called out all the time. You and Jimin,” he added, glancing across the room.

You looked, too and saw Jimin still packing his things. His back was stiff, pointedly not looking in your direction. Lingering on him a moment, you returned to Jungkook.

“Still,” you said with a laugh. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say we took class together when you’re the teacher’s assistant.”

“True.” Jungkook paused. “Well, next time you’re in LA, let’s fix that. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we can take a class together.”

Despite yourself, your brows raised. It was harmless, but Jungkook was definitely flirting with you. He was attractive, sure and seemed nice, but he lived in LA and you had a boyfriend. You should probably leave before things had the chance to go any further. The last thing you needed was another complication. Adjusting your bag, you gave Jungkook a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said before turning away.

Jungkook chuckled from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

As you joined Noelle at the door, she stared over your shoulder.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop.

Noelle’s gaze moved to yours in disbelief. “How?” she demanded as you exited class. “How do you have all these men just… tripping over themselves for you?”

Heat rising to your face, you shook your head. “That’s – I,” you sputtered. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Am I?” Noelle grinned. “First Jimin, now Jungkook… and all this while having a boyfriend.”

“I… you... Jimin is not tripping over himself for me!”

Both her brows shot way, way up. “Is that the only part of the sentence you took objection to?”

“Shut up,” you groaned and shoved her in the side.

Noelle laughed but nodded. “Alright, fine! I’ll stop. Did Sabrina say she’ll come?”

“She did.”

“Great. I still don’t like her,” Noelle said, pushing open the door. “But I guess you’re right, I have an extra ticket. It’s nice to be nice.”

You laughed, pulling your coat tighter as you walked outside. “You’re a saint.”

While you walked, your phone dinged and pulling this from your pocket, you saw a notification on Instagram. Jeon_Jungkook97 has followed you.

Shaking your head, you returned this to your jacket as you continued. While it was nice of Jungkook to compliment your dancing, his approval didn’t mean as much as certain other peoples had. This realization stuck in your mind, making you wonder about Noelle’s teasing jibe.

She had said Jimin flirted with you, but that wasn’t true – was it? You would have known if Jimin were flirting. It was hard to pick out though, since Jimin was friendly with everyone. That was just who he was; as he’d said earlier, he liked to be liked. A note of uncertainty entered your thoughts though, recalling the ballet class with your chest pressed to his. Shoving this away, you forced yourself to focus on the upcoming weekend.

Halloween was a night for fun, for letting loose and enjoying yourself with your friends. You refused to let the night be spoiled by any lingering feelings – either from you, or towards you.

The next night was perfect Halloween weather.

Chilly, but not cold enough to risk snow falling. There were several Halloweens from childhood you could recall trick-or-treating with a winter coat flung over your costume because the temperature had dropped below freezing.

You, Noelle and Irene showed up to Paulo’s house around 8:00 PM, shivering a little while you stood on his doorstep. Paulo was one of the few freshmen who lived off-campus, having known several upperclassmen before he came to Russet. The brownstone he lived in was cute, with window boxes you imagined hosted flowers in the summer.

Tugging your pink and black minidress down, you adjusted your bow as Paulo opened the door.

Blinking, he took in your costumes. “The Powerpuff girls!” He cheered, raising an arm overhead. “Try not to take down any of the villains upstairs, yeah?”

“No promises,” said Irene, flicking hair over her shoulder.

Entering the house, you heard thumping bass from an apartment upstairs. Paulo lived on the third floor and as you climbed the steps, the music grew louder. It took Paulo two tries to shove open the door – “warped wood,” he explained – but once you were inside, you saw familiar faces.

“The Powerpuff girls!” Jasmine cried, jumping up from the couch. “Finally! Thank god – can you take down Eamon? He came here dressed as a potato, or something.”

“It’s an avocado!” Eamon shouted from the kitchen. He was dressed in a round, green costume with a halo overhead. “I’m ‘holy guacamole’ – get it?” he said, pointing at the halo.

Jasmine stared at him a moment. “That’s terrible. Worse than mine,” she said with a wave down her body. “I’ve been Princess Jasmine for the past five Halloweens. It’s easy to remember and I already have the outfit.”

Laughing, you shrugged off your coat and added this to a pile on the couch. “It’s a classic,” you agreed as you turned.

Noelle had managed to procure at least twenty tickets to the party tonight, so a lot of your freshman Russet class was in attendance. Including Sabrina, who stood in the corner, talking to Louis over cups of red punch. She looked up when you entered, pausing before she gave a small wave. Surprised by the gesture, you did the same.

“No.” Noelle groaned, coming to a stop alongside you. When you looked, you saw she’d already removed her coat. “Tell me Sabrina didn’t come to this party dressed as a ballerina.”

“We did invite her at the last minute,” you laughed. “Hard to find a good Halloween costume in a day.”

“Hey,” Noelle argued. “There’s no we here. You were the one who invited her, and you’ll be the one to accept the consequences should your social experiment fail.”

“Done,” you agreed. “Speaking of social experiments though, I’m ready to get drunk tonight. Where’s the alcohol?”

“Kitchen!” Irene called, brushing past. “Or – that’s where Brian disappeared to when we entered, so I can only assume.”

Telling Noelle you’d be back with drinks, you wound through the room towards where Irene had pointed. The kitchen was tiny, on par with most city apartments. There was only room enough for one or two people, so you were lucky it was deserted when you entered.

Surveying the counter, you found the usual party staples. A bowl of red punch, a bunch of beer and various liquor bottles with chasers. Skipping over the communal punch bowl, you reached for a bottle of diet coke and coconut rum.

“Oh,” a voice said as they entered the kitchen. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were in here.”

Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.

He’d dyed his hair black – that was the first thing you noticed. Jimin’s hair was no longer blonde, but completely dark. His outfit confused you at first – a frilly, white blouse with slicked-back hair and dark trousers – until you saw his bright red contacts and the dribble of blood at his mouth.

“A vampire,” you said, finally recovering your voice. Scanning his body, you frowned. “Where are the teeth, though?”

Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.

“Huh?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.

Cheeks heating a little – your dress was pretty short – you repeated yourself. “The teeth,” you said, pointing at your own lips. “Don’t vampires have fangs?”

“Oh, right.” Jimin dug around in his pocket – fuck, were his trousers tight – to produce twin fangs. “I took them off when I got here. They’re really hard to talk in.”

“Go on then, Park,” you said with a grin. “Put them in.”

“One second.” Twisting to face the wall, Jimin popped them in his mouth. Turning around, he bared his teeth. “Sexy?”

With the teeth in though, the word came out more like shex-shie and you burst into laughter. “So sexy,” you agreed, reaching past him for a cup.

Jimin stiffened when your arm brushed his front. Unbidden, you thought about what Noelle had said – Jimin had been flirting with you. Pulling away, you resumed making your drinks and tried not to look in his direction.

Even so, you remained aware of his presence. Jimin inched his way behind you, reaching for the whiskey on the other side. His arm brushed your elbow as he went, right knee nudging yours in an intimate gesture.

Glancing up from the counter, you accidentally caught his gaze. Despite your earlier joking, he did look sexy. Devastatingly so. Even the blood-red contacts weren’t enough to deter the shiver which ran down your spine.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, you grabbed both cups and pulled back.

“So, what’re you drinking?” you asked.

You decided it was best to steer the conversation away from how sexy Park Jimin was or was not.

Seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil, Jimin poured whiskey into his cup. “Whiskey and coke. Can you pass me that bottle?”

“Sure,” you said, leaping at the chance to prevent him from walking past you again. “Here you go.”

Pushing this forward, you watched Jimin pour both drinks all the way to the brim. He paused near the end, staring into the depths before he looked up. He seemed to be warring with something, debating whether or not to speak whatever was on his mind.

“So…” He paused. “Do you know Jungkook, or something?”

You blinked. “Jungkook…?”

“You know, Miss Luna’s assistant. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh! Jungkook. No, I don’t really know him.”

“You were talking to him at the end of class, though?”

Hearing the curiosity in his voice, both your brows raised. “And?”

“And nothing,” Jimin said, sounding uncomfortable. “I just… I didn’t know you knew him, that’s all.”

“I mean, I don’t.” You paused. “But even if I did, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” His cheeks began to redden. “It’s just – ah, never mind. We don’t have that great a history, that’s all. He’s kind of the reason I’m at Russet this year.”

You stared at Jimin a moment. “Wow, what a tragedy,” you said, stifling a laugh. “To have been forced to attend one of the most prestigious dance institutions in the world.”

His upper lip twitched. “It’s not that. I was deciding between attending Russet and accepting a job offer out west. I was asked to join this pop star on tour… anyways, Jungkook’s never liked me much. It’s a long story.” Jimin’s brow furrowed. “My offer was rescinded at the last minute. The artist never said why, but I always got the feeling he had something to do with it.”

You stared at Jimin a moment, unsure how to respond. Jungkook hadn’t seemed like that kind of person, but you supposed you’d only talked to him for a few minutes. If that was true, what happened to Jimin sucked and yet, the next words from your mouth nearly had you face-palming.

“And here I thought I was your biggest rival, Park,” you said.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you… jealous, Y/N?”

He sounded almost pleased by the notion, which sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.

“Not at all,” you said quickly, turning back to your drinks.

Jimin made a soft tsk-ing sound, as though he didn’t believe you.

“That sucks,” you continued, determined to change the subject. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all for the best, though. Things happen for a reason, right?”

Looking up, you caught Jimin’s stare. He didn’t look immediately away and you got the oddest sensation he meant more than what he said. Hastily, you pushed this feeling aside, clutching your drinks as you entered the main room. Jimin followed close behind, two cups in his hands.

“When did you get here?” you asked. “Been here long?”

Jimin shook his head. “Nah. Hoseok and I got here like, ten minutes ago. He should be around here somewhere, he –”

“Y/N!”

You looked up just in time to see Hoseok, Jimin’s roommate, barreling towards you.

“It’s been so long!” Crushing you to his chest, Hoseok wrapped you in a hug. “Hope Jimin isn’t boring you to death,” he stage-whispered before he pulled away.

“Just for that.” Jimin arched a brow. “Both these drinks are for me.”

“No – wait, wait. I’m sorry!” Hoseok pouted. “Hand over the drink, Park. It’s been the longest fucking week.”

Jimin grinned and relented, handing Hoseok his cup as you laughed. Hoseok was a newer friend, but he was close to Jimin, so he’d gradually bled into your latest gatherings. Despite not being on the ballet track, most of the dancers at Russet knew of him. Hoseok had that way about him.

Glancing down at your outfit, Hoseok held up a finger. “Let me guess – Blossom,” he said, turning to scan the room. “Which means… aha! Irene is Bubbles and Noelle is Buttercup. Makes sense.”

“And you are…” Pausing, you squinted at his outfit. “Someone at the spa?”

“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “Honestly, I just wanted to wear a bathrobe.”

Said bathrobe was paired with only boxers, the front of the robe open to display his toned abs. The costume didn’t surprise you, based on past interactions with Hoseok.

Casually, he twirled the robe tie in a circle. “Impressive, no?” Hoseok glanced away. “Whoa, wait – they have beer pong? See you all later!”

Hurrying off, he left you alone with Jimin. Shaking your head, you glanced in his direction and saw Jimin down his whole drink. Arching a brow, you were about to ask why when Irene called your names from across the room.

“Y/N!” She waved her hands. “Jimin! Get over here, you two – we need more for flip cup!”

You found yourself pulled in this direction despite your insistence you didn’t do well under pressure. Jimin ended up at the other end of the table and you lost sight of him when you started to play, paired with Jasmine for a partner.

By the end of the first round, you discovered you weren’t as horrible a player as you’d imagined. Then someone suggested mixed drinks for the second round, and things became fuzzier. There were more people present than just current students of Russet. One of Paulo’s roommates knew Seokjin, so you saw him in the room, along with Sana.

You chatted with both over the course of the evening, in addition to a guy who’d recently debuted on Broadway, Kim Taehyung. Apparently, there was already buzz around him for a Tony. Taehyung was nice, but it was sometime during this conversation you realized how tipsy you were. Apparently, not drinking for several months and then going ham made for very low tolerance.

Collapsing onto the couch, you joined Irene and Brian’s conversation. In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Noelle – a terrible flip cup player, she’d roped Hoseok into giving her private lessons, but these seemed to be going terribly. Or perhaps very well, given how much the two of them were laughing.

You completely forgot about Jimin until you spotted him across the room talking to Sabrina. Seeing them together, you straightened. Both seemed fairly comfortable, which struck you as odd. Since that morning in Jimin’s dorm, you hadn’t really seen them hang out together.

Despite this, Jimin was laughing at something Sabrina had said. Tearing your gaze away, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. It didn’t matter who Jimin spoke to, or even who he decided to go home with tonight. He was your dance partner and friend, nothing more and besides – you had a boyfriend.

Blinking, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone. To your disappointment, you’d gotten no texts from Finn since this morning. You assumed he was still at his party but didn’t know for sure. Shooting him a text, hey, you waited for a response and when you got none, returned your phone to your purse.

Across the room, you heard Noelle yell your name. “Y/N!” She cupped her mouth with both hands. “We need another person for flip cup!”

Laughing, you pushed yourself from the couch and were immediately roped into your fourth game of the night. The night blurred again after that, turning into a pleasant hum of conversation and booze. At some point, Ubers were called to bring you to the club. As you rushed downstairs, you realized you forgot your coat as soon as you stepped outside.

Shivering violently, you rubbed your arms and cursed yourself for poor foresight.

“Y/N?” Jimin came to a stop alongside you. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said through chattering teeth. “I-it’s fine, though. I’m fine!”

Jimin gave you a look. “Where’s Paulo?” he said, glancing around. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

“The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued, grabbing his sleeve to drag him towards the curb. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

Jimin sighed but gave in, following when you rushed to the grey SUV. Irene had claimed the front seat, so you and Jimin pulled open the middle door – Noelle and Hoseok were crowding behind you, so you and Jimin ended up together in the backseat.

Collapsed in a heap, you giggled as Jimin tried to squish himself in a corner. “Sorry,” he said, trying – and failing – to keep his knees separate.

“Jimin.” You snorted. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

Jimin’s lips parted, shocked, but you were already hoisting yourself over the middle seat. Draping your arms next to Noelle, you begged her to play your favorite song on the radio. Had you been more sober, you might’ve recognized your position to be precarious – perched on the edge of your seat, your ass hovered inches away from Jimin’s face.

Plopping back down, you glanced sideways at Jimin and found him frozen. Suddenly, you realized the visual he’d had.

“Um, so what happened to the teeth?” you blurted, determined to change the subject.

Jimin blinked and managed to meet your gaze. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

“That’s true.” Jimin arched a brow. “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you,” you retorted. “My blood is about half alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of a silly vampire made you laugh – even more so when you pictured said vampire as Jimin. He seemed much too coherent for your liking right now.

“A silly vampire, huh?” Jimin looked on, amused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

“We’re here!” squealed Noelle, throwing open the door.

A blast of cold air hit you and you shivered, wishing you’d worn your coat. Jimin’s gaze remained steady on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said lowly. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said dryly, lifting a brow as you brushed past. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Jimin chuckled before he followed suit, although you cursed as soon as you left the car. He was correct. It was freezing, even with your alcohol-induced blanket.

“Come on!” you yelped, following Noelle towards the entrance.

Bypassing the line, Noelle walked straight towards the bouncer and showed him her phone. He nodded and waved her past, counting your friend group who followed. Not everyone from Paulo’s place had gone to the club, but enough for you to make quite the entrance.

“Y/N!” Noelle doubled back to link arms with you. “Come on – this way! That guy’s going to show us to our table.”

“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.

Tables in a club on Halloween night were ridiculously expensive, but it seemed Noelle had downplayed her brother’s connections. Your group was led right to the front of the upper balcony, getting a coveted spot overlooking the dance floor below.

This was undeniably the coolest club you’d been in. Not that you’d been in many, mind you, but this one had to take the cake. A half-circle of tables took up the top floor, with twin staircases descending to the main room below. Most of the lower floor was for dancing, although you saw additional tables pushed to the sides. Fluorescent bars and dance platforms were dotted throughout and above all was the DJ booth, blasting the latest songs.

“Whoa,” you breathed.

Noelle grinned, squeezing your arm to pull you into the booth. As soon as you settled in, Jasmine leapt up and clapped her hands.

“I want to be in one of those!” she said, pointing to a glowing cage at the center of the dance floor.

“Oo, me too!” Irene leapt up to join her.

“Me, three!” said Paulo, clambering out of the booth.

“Awesome.” Irene beamed and glanced your way. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

The idea was tempting for a moment, but then Finn flashed through your mind. You highly doubted he’d be on board with you gyrating for a room full of strangers without him. Somewhat dejectedly, you plopped back on the bench.

“That’s okay,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned but nodded, following the rest when they left for the stairs. About half the group went, clearing out the table while you stared at the dance floor.

Jimin slid into the bench alongside you. “You don’t want to dance?”

Startled, you glanced in his direction. While you watched, Jimin began to undo his cuffs, casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His hair, which had been slicked back at the start of the night, was starting to fall. Several dark strands hung over his forehead, although this only seemed to make the look more appealing.

“No,” you said, crossing your legs. “I just… don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You laughed. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

“It is when you’re at the club with all dancers,” Jimin pointed out, nodding towards the floor.

Following his gaze, you saw Jasmine dancing full-out in a lit-up cage. She wasn’t so much gyrating as she was creating choreography on the fly. The mere mortals around her looked on in awe. Fighting a smile, you returned to Jimin.

“Okay, that does look like fun,” you admitted. “The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”

“In the cab,” you said, leaning closer in order to be heard. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um, the night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin stared at you a moment, as though contemplating something important. Abruptly, he stood and held out a hand. You blinked at this like he’d offered a football.

“What are you doing?” you said, glancing up.

“Taking you down to the dance floor.” Jimin retracted said hand. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

“Hey!” In disbelief, your mouth fell open. “You said you’d forget all about that!”

His smile turned impish. “Seriously, we can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

“The sprinkler?” Starting to laugh, you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah. My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

Snorting, you shoved him in the arm before following Jimin to the dance floor. It didn’t take you long to spot your other friends, clustered near the front and around the DJ booth.

“Y/N!” Noelle cheered, breaking off from the pack. “You made it!”

She nearly spilled her drink while she danced, catching herself just in time as she spun around. You grinned, entering the circle with Jimin by your side. He did, in fact, pull out the criss-cross – Hoseok joined in and soon, there was a Fortnite dance battle between them. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve seen a TikTok dance-off between two semi-professional dancers.

This ended with both declaring mutual defeat, and Hoseok disappearing to buy the next round. Noelle shimmied her way over to Jasmine, accepting the hand given to stand on the platform.

You laughed at their ridiculous dance moves, choosing instead to stay on the ground. The crowd around you had thinned since you’d joined. Eamon disappeared a few minutes later, saying something about needing a drink upstairs. Before long, Irene had joined Jasmine and Noelle on the platform, leaving you alone with Jimin on the floor.

Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable, but Jimin was so good at putting you at ease. Determined to keep you in the present, he came up with more and more complicated dance moves which had you snorting with laughter.

On a particularly flamboyant spin, Jimin accidentally smacked the drink from someone’s grasp. Blue vodka splattered everywhere, drenching its owner – a burly man in leather who snarled in frustration.

Looking up, he met your gaze and his eyes narrowed.

“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.

Grabbing Jimin by the arm, you dragged him into the crowd.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin tried to twist around. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

Once there was suitable distance between you and the guy, you came to a stop. Laughing so hard you nearly fell over, you turned sideways to face him.

Bodies pressed against you from every side but rather than feel claustrophobic, all you could think about was Jimin before you. His hair had become thoroughly mussed during the night and you fought the sudden desire to smooth it down.

Although your breath came hard, the club around you seemed to slow. The music somehow had narrowed to pinpricks, a heady thump of bass while everything dulled.

What you should’ve done was taken a step back – but you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze drifted across his face. Jimin stared back, something intense to his gaze you couldn’t quite name. Breath caught in your throat, his eyes dropped to your lips.

Before you could react, someone bumped into you from behind, sending you careening forward. Jimin caught you easily, one arm around your waist and your chest pressed to his. You could feel every hard line of his body, his thigh wedged between your legs while you grasped at his arms. Heart thudding traitorously against your ribcage, you tried to ignore the emotions which followed.

It was impossible.

The song playing was slower, sexier than the one which had inspired the dance-off. Without meaning to, your weight subtly shifted. This caused your hips to move against his as Jimin quietly sucked in a breath. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. His grip on you tightened, gaze heady with desire and something more. Before you could second-guess what you were doing, you moved your hips again – this time, on purpose.

Jimin’s eyes darkened. Without looking away, his grip on you tightened as he slowly dragged you up his thigh. Suddenly breathless, your hands gripped him tighter while your eyes fluttered shut. The heat of his body on yours, the faint smell of cologne and sweat, the tension in his limbs and the knowledge of what he could do to you – it all left your head spinning.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, low in your ear.

You weren’t used to him saying your name like that.

You were used to him saying your name in every other way, but not that. Sharp with dancer’s critique, brusque with instruction, light with teasing – but not like something heavy was lodged in his throat. Maybe his heart.

Panicked, your eyes flew open.

What were you doing? This wasn’t some random stranger and this sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend. This was Jimin. Stumbling backwards, you broke from his hold. Jimin seemed equally stunned, staring at you on the dance floor.

“I have to go,” you blurted and whirled around.

Shoving into the crowd, you heard Jimin emit a soft groan. Despite this, he didn’t immediately pursue, for which you were grateful. Stumbling through strangers, strobe lights flashed brightly overhead. You squeezed between someone dressed as a go-go and another person dressed as a werewolf. Skidding to a stop on the edge of the floor, you scanned the room and saw no one from Russet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jimin now followed. Panicking again, you began to move. Beside one of the bars, you spotted a hallway labeled restrooms. Heading in this direction, you quickly disappeared inside the door marked women.

Once inside, you locked yourself in a stall, lowered the lid and sat down. Head in hands, you slowly exhaled. You were a coward; that much was clear. Jimin was probably out there looking for you right now, but you’d rather hide in a bathroom than face him.

The fluorescent lighting overhead was too bright – it made you feel overexposed. After a long moment, you fished around in your purse and pulled out your phone. Flipping to your thread with Finn, you saw he’d sent no response since your text. Complete and utter silence.

Heart cracking a little, you slid this in your bag and stared at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. When you imagined you and Finn at college, you’d always pictured you together, attending the same parties and sharing the same adventures. Tonight though, had proven to be anything but that. Finn hadn’t once glanced at his phone judging by the unread mark next to your text.

Dimly, you wondered why you weren’t more upset about this. It should bother you that Finn hadn’t called or even texted throughout the day. Sure, he was out with friends, but so were you and you’d reached out – as soon as you thought this, your heart sank.

You weren’t sure you could call Jimin a friend after what had just happened.

Sure, you’d only danced, and it had only been for a second but still, guilt bloomed behind your ribcage. The idea of Finn doing the same thing with anyone else made your heart twist. You wouldn’t feel that way if what you’d done wasn’t wrong.

Groaning out loud, you lowered your head to your hands. After several minutes, you felt calm enough to stand and pretend-flush the toilet. As you exited the stall, you walked to the sink and began washing your hands. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a million things ran through your mind.

Clearly, the situation with Jimin was worse than you’d thought. The spark you’d felt kept returning, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Maybe the only solution was to find a new partner. The very idea made your heart sink, but you couldn’t deny things had gotten out of hand.

Before you could seriously consider the option, the door to the bathroom flung open and banged against the wall. Sabrina stormed in, wiping both eyes with the heel of her hand. You froze, staring at her in the mirror but she didn’t seem to notice your presence.

When she finally lowered her hands and took a deep breath, she saw you and froze.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other and then – you coughed. Awkwardly, you began to dry your hands.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.

Sabrina stiffened. “I’m fine,” she muttered, walking to the sink.

You watched her wash her hands, struggling and failing to control her expression. Sabrina’s hair was a mess and you stared, wondering where she’d been. You hadn’t seen her since you’d entered the club, but had assumed she’d stayed on the second floor.

“Are you sure?” you pressed, remembering your night at the other club. “You know, you can –”

“Will you… just stop.” Sabrina closed her eyes. “Will you … stop pretending like we’re friends, or something?”

Struck with disbelief, you could only stare. “I… are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” You shook your head. “Just wow.”

Her lips tightened and finally, she whirled around. “What?” Sabrina demanded. “What is it?”

The look in her eyes was familiar. Her frustrated, angry look was mirrored in your expression, but you found you didn’t care. Sabrina was clearly going through something, but her rudeness to you was the final straw. Tired from Finn, Jimin and the constant pressure you were both under, something about Sabrina’s words made you break.

“Why are you always such a… such a bitch,” you blurted, hurling the word like a knife. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you always act like you hate me so much?”

Sabrina’s upper lip curled. “Why do you always think this is about you, Y/N? Maybe I just wanted one second of peace and instead, here you are. Like always.”

“Here I am, in the public restroom of a club we’re all at?”

“No. Here you are in my life,” she snapped, pushing herself from the sink. “People won’t talk to me? It’s because you’ve run your mouth about things you think I’ve done. I’m falling in the class ranks? It’s because you’re after my spot. Jimin doesn’t want to be my partner? It’s because of his feelings for you. I’m sick of turning around and always seeing you there!”

“Okay, but none of those things – I, Jimin doesn’t have feelings for me,” you sputtered.

Sabrina gave you a look. “Oh, please, Y/N.” Her laughter was harsh. “Why else would he turn me down?”

“Um, maybe because he’s a decent human being? Unlike yourself.”

“Great, yeah.” Sabrina glared. “Make me the bad guy again.”

“I’m not the one doing that,” you huffed. “You are. You want to blame me because no one wants to be your friend? Maybe try reaching out first. Maybe don’t talk shit about people behind their backs. And I’m improving because I’m taking extra lessons. No thanks to you, of course.”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad because I didn’t have time to give you lessons.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to explain why I’m improving and you’re not.”

Sabrina bristled. “Are you saying I don’t work hard, too?”

“No.” Mirthless, you laughed. “I know you work hard – maybe even as hard as I do. But you know what the big difference is between you and me?” you said, drawing yourself to your full height.

Sabrina’s eyes glimmered while she stared you down. Still, she retained her aloofness when she said, “What? What’s the big secret?”

“You think everyone’s out to get you,” you said, stepping closer. “You think not asking for help makes you stronger, but it’s the exact opposite. At least I’ve improved since the start of the year. What have you done?”

Not waiting for an answer, you pushed past Sabrina and walked out the door.

Shoving it wide, you entered the hallway. Dance music flooded your senses and you winced, remembering where you were and what you’d been doing. Luckily, Jimin was nowhere in sight. He must not have seen where you’d disappeared to.

Shoulders slumping, you pulled out your phone and dialed a number. Walking to the front, you concentrated on breathing while you waited for them to pick up. Coming to a stop beside coat check, you didn’t leave the club – a lesson you’d learned the hard way.

Noelle answered on the third ring. “Babe?” she yelled, barely audible over the din. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Are you…” Closing your eyes, you paused. “Can we leave?”

Noelle paused, then muffled her phone with one hand. “Irene!” you heard her yell. “You good to get a ride home for these people? Okay, cool. Bye!” Her phone became un-muffled. “Where are you, babe?”

After explaining your location, you hung up and hugged yourself with both arms. Noelle burst into view a few moments later, scanning the crowd like a mom on a mission. When she saw you, she rushed over – and you promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, no!” Pulling you into a hug, Noelle began to rub your back. “No, no, babe! Don’t cry! What’s going on? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Hearing Jimin’s words said by Noelle only made you cry harder. Wisely sensing this to be a problem not easily solved, Noelle continued rubbing your back while walking towards the exit.

The two of you went outside and, as luck would have it, saw a group of people arriving at the club. Noelle snagged their taxi, helping you in the backseat and giving the driver your address. As you settled against her, your head on her shoulder, Noelle kept rubbing your arm and waited for the tears to stop.

You weren’t really sure why you were crying.

Of course, Sabrina was terrible, as was the situation with Jimin, but it was more than that. Dancing with Jimin hadn’t caused problems in your relationship with Finn. There had been problems in your relationship Finn and so, feelings had crept in which led you to dance with Jimin.

More than that though, you couldn’t help but notice Noelle had come to your aid much faster than Finn ever had. Even Jimin had dropped everything when you asked, and he was someone you’d once called your enemy. Noelle had been having fun, but she’d cut her night short because you were upset. This knowledge crushed you and for the very first time, you realized your relationship with Finn might be unfixable.

Curled up on the backseat, you let yourself cry a bit more. You could be calm and rational in the morning, you decided but for now, you just felt defeated.

When you finally climbed into bed at your dorm at night, you looked at your phone and saw Finn still hadn’t texted.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin au #bts au #jimin writing #bts writing #jimin series #jimin e2l #bts series #bts e2l #jimin dance au #bts dance au

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Tender Ch. 1 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Even though Loki doesn’t understand why the new member of the Avengers should be kind to him of all people, he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Warnings: Loki being depressed, the Avengers being kinda mean, mentions of Torture and Death

Words: ~2100

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

All eyes were on him again.

As soon as Loki would step inside, the previously lively room would fall completely silent. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to being the involuntary kill-joy...

Usually, the God of Mischief craved attention, may it be positive or negative - most of the time being the latter. But lately, after months of having all those distrustful and hostile glares piercing holes into him, he’d rather wish for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Umm, so...I gotta go.” Natasha was the first one to flee the unpleasant atmosphere, not even putting the energy into mutter anything else than a cheap excuse on her way out. Clint wordlessly followed her close after, but not without shooting the Odinson one last, spiteful look.

Loki on the other hand was picking on his hands, a nervous habit he had inherited from his mother. As much as he tried to avoid meeting their eyes, the tensioned aura they were emitting making him feel close to breaking down completely - but he would never give them the satisfaction to witness this, he swore to himself.

And yet: Maybe he should just leave. Disappear, forever.

Although he’d never admit, Loki had grown very tired of his life following this stirr path, unable to diverge into a new direction. Everything he did would ultimately bring death and destruction upon mankind, inflicting fear in the hearts of all people.

His whole existence was based on being condemned to fail - just for others to reach their ‘glorius purpose’.

“Great” Tony scoffed. “Now they’re gone. Well done, prince of nothing.” Steve cut his friend off, clearing his throat very exaggeratedly.

The god still hadn’t moved from the doorframe of the conference room, while all others were already sitting on the oval-shaped table. He didn’t got what all that fuss was about. If Steve didn’t insist him to attend this emergency meeting, he’d just have gone about his usual business and avoided everyone as good as he could.

“C’mon, brother” Thor sighed, well knowing that if his brother was to stay in the team, it would ultimatively drive a wedge between them. All that pressure in the air was straining for everyone, including himself.

Tony on the other hand was pretty chill about everything, aside of being passive-aggressive. This was probably due to their similar coping styles.

Even though his near-death-experience back when he stopped the Chitauri was still eating on his mental health, he’d prefer glossing over it with stupid jokes and overly confident behaviour. “No sassy remark today, Reindeer Games?”

Stark was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he rose an eyebrow on the god, who only muttered a hoarse “No...not today.”

Yeah, it was kind of his style to break the unsettling silence through puny comments or self-glorifying speeches, to distract from his own insecurity.

But right now, he was just so damn tired.

Of this planet and it’s people, as well as the humiliating circumstances he had to dwell in. The fact that he was a prisoner at the Stark Tower, amongst his worst enemies. Being forced by his brother to keep up this meaningless act, as if he’d ever be seen as a team member or ally - when in reality, he was but a slave to the people he once ought to reign.

Just like back on Asgard: Never one of them, never belonging. No way to break free - for his true self was something to be loathed.

However, first and foremost the one thing he was especially tired of was himself, for he couldn’t get out of his own skin. Not only could he never be considered a hero, let alone be redeemed.

After all the atrocities he had commited due to Thanos’ torture and the tesseract’s influence, now that he woke up from that naive dream of power stilling the emptiness in his dark heart, there was nothing left for him - other than to be haunted by his crimes until the mercy of death would overcome him.

“Well” Steve began, slamming his palms on the desk to attract everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we are welcoming a new team member today.”

“They all know?” Of course they wouldn’t let him in on such sensitive information. Not that he minded either way - one Avenger more or less, it didn’t matter how many people hated him in here.

“Please, come on in.”

Loki cleared the entrance when he heared Tony’s words, turning around in anticipation of another dull creature like the Hulk to torment him - but his calm demeanour dropped completely at this unusual sight:

“Y-You?!”

That was simply not possible! The last time he had seen you was almost a year ago, and you were on the brink of death at that!

“For everyone that doesn’t know yet: Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is one of the victims HYDRA experimented on, and they succeeded in forming an artificial mutant.”

Steve went on and on explaining about your powers, but Loki’s head had already turned on autopilot, the only thing he could concentrate on being how the hell you of all people ended up here.

All these months, he was desperately trying to get any information about you, all of his hints ultimately leading him to dead ends - and in the end, tragically believing in your imminent death.

The memories were still painfully vivid in his mind: It was his first mission together with the Avengers, at a HYDRA hideout with most likely no civil survivors.

Actually, he had planned to make his escape right when the others engaged in a fight, wandering the hallways of what resembled a torture chamber rather than a laboratory.

On the walls were several instructions, about a serum that might cause a human to mutate if they were exposed to unbearable stress - pain being the most effective method, apparently.

Yet instead of finding anything useful for his personal gain, he found you: A beautiful woman, yet emaciated and lying in a puddle of her own blood. At first he thought you to be dead just like the others - but as soon as your faint whimpers drang to his ears, he burst the cell you were trapped in open, rushing to your side immediately.

“Shh...” the god scooped you up from the cold stone floor, wrapping his cloak around your broken body. “Everything is alright now. Your savior is here.”

Loki gasped as he felt your hand stroking his cheekbone, even through all your pain and weakness wanting to bid your hero this due respect.

“Hel...you humans are such fragile creatures...” Loki muttered under his breath, cursing his own lack of talent when it came to casting healing spells. “Hang in there, look at me!”

Your eyes were teary and bloodshot, yet not less fit to bring across a message no words ever could: Incredible gratitude, and admiration.

He could tell you were close to passing out when your hand left his face, falling limp to the side. But he held you firmly in his arms, not once stopping to utter sweet words of encouragement as he made his way to the ship, leading you into safety.

“Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

Those were the words he once directed at Black Widow - but only now he understood her attempts.

Saving one person could never make up for all the lives he had destroyed - and yet he knew that for you, it would mean the world none the less.

In one way or another, with your life at his mercy, he began to finally grasp the preciousness of life, and doing everything in one’s might to protect it.

“Reindeer Games” Tony tapped on his shoulders, making Loki wake from his pondering. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her away on the first day already.”

Oh.

Just now he was noticing his own grim expression, having towered over your much smaller form this whole time with furrowed brows.

“My apologies” was his firm response, but you only shook your head, trying to tell him it was not a big deal.

So this was what you looked like when you’re not imprisoned, he realized when he took in your physique.

Much to his pleasure, all of your wounds had seemingly healed, and you finally gained some much needed weight. Like this, you looked so much more healthier - and most definetly even more bewitching than he remembered you.

If people had let him know, would he have visited your sickbed, aiding you towards health again? Who knows...

Yet somehow, he dwelled in the thought of you being able to lead a happy life now that you were free - which made your decision to seek out the Avengers in wish for more battles even harder for him to accept.

“You are incredibly strong, Lady Y/N” Loki spoke firmly, everyone else rolling their eyes at his usual exaggeration - but you knew he meant every word. “Be sure of my eternal respect.”

The God of Lies’ eyes widened in excitement when you directed a warm smile at him, knowing for sure that this one was genuine. It wasn’t like those fake smirks the other Avengers gave him out of politeness, or the mocking laughs when they were making fun of or excluding him.

No - that one was just pure affection. And it left him in awe.

“Thank you for saving me back then” you signed, just for Loki shooting you a puzzled look.

“What, I thought the all-tongue knows every language?” Tony yelled, as inconsiderate as always. Thor was quick to explain on his brother’s stead, him still being deeply invested with you. “Every spoken one, yes. ASL is not one of our fortes.”

Usually, Loki had always been a quick thinker. But right now he was to bewildered by your appearance that thinking straight was out of the question.

What language were they speaking of? And why have you not been saying anything up until now? Maybe his presence was making you uncomfortable, after all? Should he leave on your behalf?

To make it easier for him to understand, you rolled down your turtleneck, revealing the unsighty scar that covered your whole throat.

There were not many people bold enough to come close to the God of Mischief without warning, yet suddenly you simply took his hand and slowly led it to your neck.

How could you be so naive and offer someone like him such a vital spot?! He’ll never get the human philosophy...

And yet, the flabbergasted god hesistantly let his hand run over the scar, while you opened your mouth to no avail - for 11 months already, no tone would leave your vocal cords.

“I’m incredibly sorry...” Loki whispered with a sorrowful tone, while the others just stared in disbelief. “If only I was able to heal this wound back then...”

What a puny god he was...and an even more pathetic wanna-be-hero at that...

He would try to take a few steps back, but you took a hold of his hand, squeezing it with both of yours, that cheerful smile not faltering in the slightest.

“Please, don’t be sad. I’m only alive thanks to you!” Bucky, whose cousin was mute as well, translated what you were signing for Loki. His tone sounded quite irritated, not fitting those meaningful words. “I only wanted to join the Avengers because I want to be just like you. You’re my idol!”

Those words touched him deeply, igniting a flame inside of him he thought long to be defunct. Was it hope?

Of course it was not nearly enough to pull him out of that deep, dark hole he felt trapped in for as long as he could remember - yet somehow, he now felt that it was not impossible to escape.

While the others were cringing at your declaration, making jokes about ‘choosing wrong idols’ or would plainly not believe Loki to have a positive effect on anyone, the two of you would just stare at each other in silent admiration.

Shyly, you signed yet another word for him - and this time, Loki would know what you mean from pure intuition.

He smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Loki was able to smile again, just thanks to your heartwarming welcome. And he was still blissfully unaware about what effect you could have on him, if he was brave enough to let you close.

One thing was sure: You literally had him wrapped around his finger from the very start.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Oneshot #Self Insert #Marvel #Disney #Fluff #Fem! Reader #God of Mischief #Loki / Reader

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 4

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2877

Additional note: This is the final chapter. There'll be an epilogue, but you'll have to wait a bit because there are a lot of challenges I've signed up for and I'm way behind schedule.

Enjoy 🙂

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Devastated and angry at the world. That's how Ivar is feeling.

Holed up in his room since the night before, and despite Lagertha incessant requests, he doesn’t plan to come out, not now at least. Come to think of it, he might as well decide never to leave his room again.

He can't stand the idea of facing his brothers. He doesn't want to have to tell them about his failure. He doesn't want to endure Ubbe's pity and condescendence. He doesn't want to see the look of triumph on Sigurd's face. The thought makes his stomach lurch while at the same time a murderous urge creeps into his mind. No, he definitely can't see his brothers.

Surprisingly, and unlike Lagertha, his brothers have left him alone, as if sensing that entering his room would be as moving into a minefield. Only Hvitserk had taken a chance earlier, cautiously poking his head through the door. His disapproving look obvious when his eyes had taken in the scene before him, Ivar's belongings scattered on the floor, some of them smashed into pieces.

"I got you a chocolate muffin from the kitchen, baby bro," he had explained, putting it on a nearby shelf, and it had almost brought a smile to Ivar's face. To Hvitserk, there's no predicament that can't be improved with comfort food.

"Look, Ivar," scratching his neck, Hvitserk had then said, "I don't know what happened and I don't want to pressure you. You tell me when you're ready, if you are. But I'm here, okay? Whatever the time of day or night, you don't have to be alone if you don't want to. If I'm upstairs, just call me, okay?" With these words, he was gone, the door closed.

Ivar can't get the events of the previous evening out of his mind. Like a waking nightmare, they are playing over and over in his head: how he had freaked out when he heard the beeps; the confused and then so disappointed look you had given him when he sputtered his need to leave; finally, his shameful escape into the night.

What could he have done? What should he have done?

He does know the answer. He should have been more cautious. He should have checked the time, asked for your number and just walked away.

On the other hand, what difference would it have made? He would still have no future with you, right? He would still be a cripple, and you would still be... you... perfect... too good for him.

So yeah, he had run away like a coward. He lets out a bitter chuckle to himself. Run away? Who is he kidding? He hadn't run away, that would have been too easy. Cripples don't run away. Without his cane – why the fuck did he leave it behind?? – he had pathetically limped away, stumbling, his feet sinking into the sand. He had still been on the beach when the battery had died. He had had no other choice but to crawl like a worm the rest of the way, silently praying to the gods that the darkness of the night would prevent you from seeing him like this.

Tears of despair run down his cheeks for the umpteenth time. He's used to feeling humiliated, but feeling humiliated and heartbroken simultaneously is really too much to take. He feels like he's dying from the inside over and over again, cursing himself for wanting to attend the party, for wanting to see you again. He should never have let his walls down, he should never have dared to hope. What was he thinking? He may have walked, and even danced with you, but at the end of the day, he still is a pitiable cripple with stupid, crooked legs, in love with a girl way out of his league.

If he's being honest, that's what hurts the most. He now realizes how delusional he had been. Holding on to a dead dream for years, he had not forseen the painful yet unavoidable reality check. And now, it's like he's been hit by a train. Because there's no denying it, dreaming of a life with you is no longer an option, not after last night. And even though it's almost unbearable, he knows now he has to let go of you, of the idea of you and him being together. As much as this mere thought is devastating, he has no other choice. He has to stop fooling himself, for his own sanity, if nothing else.

Giving a guttural cry, much like that of a wounded animal, Ivar doesn't hear when the front doorbell rings. Not that he would have reacted even if he had heard it, too busy wallowing in self-pity.

***

"Thank you for having us here on such short notice, my dear." Your uncle states joyfully, his eyes sparkling, as Lagertha greets him with a handshake and a tight-lipped smile. Even though you don't know why, it's obvious that she's not his biggest fan.

Your uncle, who doesn't seem to notice – or doesn't care, you're not sure – keeps giving her a beaming smile. "My niece here," he turns his head toward you for a short moment, "has a weird request. She met a boy yesterday, during the party. He lost something and my sweet Y/N has been adamant since this morning that she wants to find him and personally return it to him. We were wondering," he turns his gaze in the direction of the couch, "if it could be one of your wards."

There are indeed three young men, half sprawled on the couch, who get up as one when Lagertha gives them a stern look. If you vaguely remember having seen them before, a single glance is enough for you to know that the one you're looking for is not among them.

You're on the verge of saying so but your uncle doesn't give you a chance to. "See boys," he unceremoniously grabs the cane you're holding behind your back, "here is the lost item. A cane! Fairly uncommon, if you ask me. Anyway... Does this... thing belong to any of you?"

Since you know it doesn't, you're surprised when two of the guys both take a step forward. "Actually, it's mine," they say in unison, each of them only then becoming aware that the other is speaking.

Dumbstruck, you look at one then the other successively. They've got a lot of nerve! You know they're lying, and you would have known it even if these two idiots hadn't spoken at the same time. They just look nothing like your handsome stranger – if he's a stranger.

"Sigurd, you know it's mine!"

"Don't play dumb, you never use a cane, Ubbe! Whereas me, I do sometimes. Everyone knows artists tend to be eccentric, right?"

The blondest one – Sigurd if you heard right – points his finger at a guitar leaning against the wall and then winks at you, "I'm a musician, you know?" You don't even have time to roll your eyes as the other one – Ubbe? – yells, his nostrils flaring.

"Shut up Sig, you're so full of shit! You know I've got a sprained ankle!"

"A sprained ankle, no kidding? Who did a ten-kilometer run today, huh? It's not me! So, you are the one going to shut up, you fucking douchebag!"

It's almost funny to watch them arguing back and forth. If you weren't so pissed off, you'd laugh. But right now, you're mostly mad at them. Their blatant lies make your blood boil with anger.

Are they really thinking you're a complete idiot? That you can be fooled so easily? Who do they think they are? Who do they think you are? Some stupid chick ready to fall for their good looks? If they think that, they're kidding themselves.

"You're the fucking douchebag, Sig!! Don’t forget I'm the oldest!"

"And what's the difference, huh? You can't have all the girls, Ubbe! Keep fucking Margrethe and just let me be! Stop being a controlling asshole!"

"STOP!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!"

Lagertha's shout is deafening and if looks could kill, these two morons would be lying dead on the floor right here, right now.

"Y/N, my dear," Lagertha gives you an apologetic smile, "I'm so sorry for that. I swear they usually know how to behave, better than that at least. Guess they don't know how to handle your striking beauty. Now sweetheart, tell me, is one of these two knuckleheads the one you were with last night?"

The silence that falls on the room after her question is so complete that you could hear a pin drop. Acutely aware that all eyes are on you, you shyly lower your gaze, shaking your head slightly, as you clasp your hands over your belly. You eventually speak, your eyes meeting Lagertha's, and you can see she knows what you're going to say. "No, the guy I was with last night is not one of them."

"How can you be so sure?" Sigurd's voice is soft and tentative now, and Ubbe adds, seemingly for once in agreement with his younger brother, "yeah, how can you? It was pretty dark after all."

You give them a smile. "How can I be so sure? You mean beside the fact that you obviously don't need a cane? Neither of you?" The third brother, who still hasn't opened his mouth, chuckles, giving you a thumbs up. "Look, I appreciate your interest, I really do, but neither of you are the one I am looking for. Therefore," you look at your uncle, "we should leave, don't you think?" Checking the time on your watch, you shrug. "What about the Eyvindsson family? Didn't you tell me about three brothers? We may have time to go and see them tonight if we hurry."

Your uncle nods, handing you back the cane. "You're right, Y/N, we should leave." Taking two steps forward, he grabs Lagertha's hand. "Sorry dear, we will waste no more of your time."

You're about to thank her when one of the boys clears his throat. "Ahem..."

Turning your head, you're surprised to see the third brother, the silent one, raising his hand. "I think I might know who this cane belongs to." Frowning, he glances at his brothers. "And you both know it too."

"Shut up, Hvitserk!" Sigurd spits, clenching his hands into fists. "Don't bring the fucking cripple into the conversation."

"Sigurd! Keep your mouth shut!" Lagertha glares at him for several long seconds then her face softens as she looks at Hvitserk, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What are you trying to say, Hvitserk? Do you think this cane belongs to your baby brother?"

Hvitserk nods. "I know it does, actually."

"Come on, Hvit, you're talking nonsense. It cannot be, it just cannot. That guy was standing. It wasn't our brother. Our brother wasn't there last night." Ubbe stubbornly insists, but Hvitserk just shakes his head.

"Of course, he was. I saw him. And don't bullshit me, Ubbe, you saw him too. With Y/N." Hvitserk states. That's when you realize that your palms are sweating and your pulse is racing.

Hvitserk keeps going, now speaking to his guardian. "I know what I saw, Lagertha. It was him. I don't know how, but he was standing, Ubbe is right. He was even walking. It may sound weird but I swear, it was him."

Lagertha nods. "I believe you, Hvitserk." A beaming smile spreads across her lips and she tilts her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if Floki had something to do with such a miracle. Go get your brother, Hvitserk, please."

Your heart leaps at these words, you're barely able to contain your excitement and as you let out a nervous chuckle, you cannot help but jump for joy. Needless to say, Ubbe and Sigurd seem much less enthusiastic than you.

***

Reluctantly following his brother, Ivar mutters under his breath, "you're pissing me off, Hvit. I'm fucking not in the mood for whatever you have in mind."

Hvitserk pays him no mind though, a small smile dancing on his lips. "Trust me, baby bro, you'll be in the mood."

Ivar wants to protest, or maybe just turn around and wheel back to his room but all at once the sound of your voice reaches his ears and he stops, frozen in place, his eyes wide open. He may have stopped breathing.

Patting his shoulder reassuringly, Hvitserk whispers, "It's Y/N, baby bro, but I have a feeling you already know. She's here for you, she was looking for you, Ivar. Go..." before giving a single push to his brother's wheelchair, his right hand on the backrest.

Ivar honestly doesn't know how he manages to wheel himself into the living room. What he does know, however, is that you're suddenly standing right in front of him. The heart stopping smile you flash him blows all the air out of his lungs, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, and the outside world – Lagertha, his brothers, Harald – ceases to exist.

A little voice tells him he should be feeling self-conscious with his hair all messy and wearing worn sweatpants, but he can't bring himself to care, not when you kneel in front of him with stars in your eyes.

"Here you are, finally," you breathe, gently placing a hand on his knee. Ivar didn't know until now that one could die of happiness, but that's exactly what he's feeling and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Swallowing, he blinks several times. When he speaks, his voice trembles, his bottom lip quivering. "Hello Y/N, you were... looking for... for me?" He has trouble getting the words out, his nervous fingers fidgeting on his lap.

Grabbing both his hands in yours, you nod, your thumbs stroking his knuckles tenderly. "I was, yes, and for a very long time."

Shyly lowering his head, Ivar, almost feeling dizzy, can't wrap his head around your words. They're just too good to be true. "But... why?"

"Why?" You giggle, your laughing eyes lighting up your face, and he's positive, you're even more beautiful like this. "Isn't it obvious? I want to know more about you, what's your favorite color, what you eat for breakfast, where you see yourself in ten years. I just want to spend time with you, Ivar."

'Ivar' You've just said his name and it's like the sweetest music to his ears. He can't believe it. Wow. "You... You recognized me?" There's so much hope and joy in his voice, he cringes.

You shrug, your smile never leaving your lips. "I wasn't sure at first. You've changed a lot." Your hand cups his cheek. The sensation on his skin is so overwhelming he has to hold back the tears threatening to gush. Yet, he can't help but think you're speaking about his legs.

He grits his teeth. "Yeah... Standing tall can change a man."

"No! no, no, no," you retort without missing a beat, "That's not what I meant. In my memory you still looked like you did when we were ten, but look at you now, all grown up! Your hair was so short back then." Reaching out, you brush a strand of hair back and tuck it behind his ear before letting your fingers run slowly down and up his bulging biceps, your hand finally lingering on his forearm, "Plus, you clearly work out a lot. So, yeah, I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure. When we were dancing last night, I thought I'd ask you right after, but then you left and... well... I didn't have a chance..."

Ivar wraps his fingers around yours, a frown creasing his forehead. "About that, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left like–"

You shush him, holding a finger to his lips. "It doesn't matter, Ivar. You don't have to explain. All that matters is that I found you." Standing up, you lean forward and gently kiss his cheek and he feels like he's floating. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you whisper in his ear, "I reckon we got some lost time to make up, you and me. Can we go stargazing now?"

Hearing this makes Ivar's insides turn to jelly. Barely able to think, he is on cloud nine and wishes with all his heart never to come back down to earth again. But despite the daze, despite the fog in his head, despite the blinding happiness, he knows one thing: no matter how many stars he sees, you'll be the brightest one.

"Yes, Y/N, you're right," bringing your hand to his mouth, he gives it a kiss, "let's go stargazing."

And as he leaves the room, you walking alongside him with your hand on his shoulder, his heart filled with joy and wonder, he doesn't miss the thumbs up Hvitserk gives him, nor the scowl on Ubbe's and Sigurd's faces.

For a fleeting second, he thinks he should – he could – taunt them. They deserve to be laughed at, don't they? But then, he realizes he doesn't have time for that. The time for happiness has come, and it's far more important.

Giving you a beaming smile, Ivar inhales deeply before releasing a sigh of satisfaction. Yeah. Happiness. Happiness sounds good.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar’s taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

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zintranslations · 3 years

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Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 132

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 132: By Day, By Night

After hanging up, Lin Qiushi got out of bed. He went to the living room to check on the door and television, making sure both those things were still the same as they had been during daytime yesterday.

After that, Lin Qiushi left the apartment in a hurry. Halfway out he even got a call from Wu Qi, asking why he wasn't at work.

"There's something I have to do." Lin Qiushi was already in a car and had honestly completely forgotten about going to work. He tried to wheedle: "Ask for time off for me."

Wu Qi, "okay, how long should I ask for?"

Lin Qiushi, "half a year?"

Wu Qi, shocked, "…half a year?? Are you planning on resigning?"

Lin Qiushi glanced at his watch, not thinking of work at all.

"Or yeah, you can just resign for me."

Wu Qi seemed like he had something to say, but whatever words were on the tip of his tongue never made it out—he only sighed: "Fine, I'll get time off for you. If there's something going on you've got to tell me, alright? Don't carry it all on your own."

Lin Qiushi made a noise of agreement, expression still pensive.

The car continued on, and over an hour later, it arrived at where Lin Qiushi wanted to go. Lin Qiushi got off, went upstairs, and knocked on the door—every motion done in a single smooth breath. The truth was, however, that these few simple motions were only possible after extensive emotional preparation done during the car ride.

The door he knocked on opened after a bit, revealing a beautiful middle-age woman—it was Ruan Nanzhu's mother.

Because before they'd entered the door, Ruan Nanzhu had taken Lin Qiushi home. Now Lin Qiushi had a clear memory of where Ruan Nanzhu's old house was. Coming here this time was simply to confirm one thing…

"Hi Auntie," Lin Qiushi greeted politely.

"Hello." The woman watched Lin Qiushi with curiosity and asked, "is there something I can help you with?"

"I wanted to ask, do you know who Ruan Nanzhu is?" Lin Qiushi asked carefully.

"Ruan Nanzhu?" The woman's tone of doubt sent Lin Qiushi's heart sinking, and the question on her face only grew stronger. "Sorry, I don't know who that is."

"Then do you know Ruan Baiye?" Lin Qiushi brought up another name—this was the name of Ruan Nanzhu's older bother.

"Baiye? He's my son…" Mama Ruan said. "He's not home right now, but he'll be back later tonight. Are you looking for him?"

Lin Qiushi, "ma'am you…only have one son?"

Mama Ruan nodded as the way she looked at Lin Qiushi got stranger and stranger. Which was fair. Suddenly coming to her house and asking questions like these, Lin Qiushi didn't seem like a normal person at all.

Lin Qiushi had no idea what else to say either. After bidding Mama Ruan goodbye, he rushed back downstairs and hurried off to another location.

Ruan Nanzhu's existence had been completely wiped. There was nobody in this world named Ruan Nanzhu, not even to his parents, and even Obsidian, the organization that he led, had stopped existing…

This time, Lin Qiushi's destination was Li Dongyuan's White Deer.

When he arrived at White Deer headquarters, Lin Qiushi discovered that the building that once belonged to White Deer was now commercial offices, labeled with the name of XX Bank. Lin Qiushi was standing in the doorway contemplating how to sneak upstairs when he saw a familiar face leave the building. That person was wearing a suit and speaking to someone beside him; judging by appearance alone, he was that baby-faced Li Dongyuan that Lin Qiushi knew.

Seeing this Lin Qiushi hurried forward and called, "Li Dongyuan!"

Li Dongyuan's feet stalled, and he glanced in Lin Qiushi's direction. With eyes both cautious and distant, he asked, "who might you be? If you'd like to discuss something please book an appointment with my secretary first."

"I—" Lin Qiushi said. "Do you know me?"

Lin Qiushi lifted an eyebrow and didn't speak. His expression though, gave Lin Qiushi an answer—he did not know Lin Qiushi, and even thought Lin Qiushi's question odd.

"You don't recognize me?" Lin Qiushi also couldn't quite convey how he was feeling just then.

"Should I recognize you?" Li Dongyuan smiled a smile that wasn't quite a smile as he scanned Lin Qiushi up and down.

Lin Qiushi suddenly recalled something else. He said, "then do you know Zhuang Rujiao?"

Li Dongyuan didn't answer, and still seemed unfamiliar with the name.

"What about Jin Yurui?" Lin Qiushi tried again.

"You know her?" Li Dongyuan's smile, however, faded. "You're one of hers, then?"

Lin Qiushi could finally be sure why some people didn't exist in this world—because they were still alive. If they still survived in the world outside the door, then they did not exist inside this door. Both Li Dongyuan and Jin Yurui were dead, so they had new identities inside this door.

And, those who had died inside the doors aside, the people who were competely unrelated to the doors did not seem affected by this rule at all. They existed both inside this door and outside it, and had nothing to do with living or dying.

"Is there anything else?" Eyeing Lin Qiushi, who was deep in thought, Li Dongyuan lifted his chin with a cold expression. "If there's nothing else why don't you take your leave? This is a place of work."

Lin Qiushi took one last look at him before turning to go.

"Who is that?" the person standing beside Li Dongyuan asked as they watched Lin Qiushi leave.

"I don't know," Li Dongyuan said. "Looks kind of familiar though. Never mind, bring me that data and let me confirm…"

Lin Qiushi left White Deer headquarters and glanced at his watch. It was already twelve noon. An idea surfaced in his mind, and Lin Qiushi got out his phone to book a roundtrip flight for C City the next morning.

There were some matters he wanted to confirm in C City; it was already too late to go today, so he could only hurry there tomorrow morning and try to make it back in one day.

Fact of the matter was, Lin Qiushi didn't want to try spending the night on an airplane. Hell knows how terrifying that would be.

After taking care of lunch at a random spot in town, Lin Qiushi returned home and took a nap. As he thought about what would happen later that evening, Lin Qiushi thought he wouldn't be able to sleep. But in fact he slept quite well, passing out the moment he hit the bed. When he woke it was already five in the afternoon. Chestnut sat by his side, meowing, looking to be hungry again.

Lin Qiushi got up and, after fixing up some food for Chestnut, called some delivery for himself. He ate while watching TV.

He saw the trailer for Tan Zaozao's new movie. From the language of the advertisement, Lin Qiushi figured out that Tan Zaozao had already won the award. The award-winning movie was exactly the same as it had been on the outside, only the director was a different person this time and not Zhang Yiqing.

This world was so very similar to the world that Lin Qiushi lived in, but there was one fundamental difference—Ruan Nanzhu, the person Lin Qiushi most wanted to see, was not here.

Good thing that was so, actually. This door, for a lot of other people, would likely be of insurmountable difficulty. Like Zhuang Rujiao. Or Cheng Yixie for that matter. That was because here, they could once again see their most beloved person…

The night deepened, and Lin Qiushi got everything ready.

Around ten in the evening, it suddenly began to rain outside.

Water came down as if tossed from a ladle, washing clean the earth scorched dry by the sun. Lin Qiushi stood by the window, watching as passersby scampered home along the sidewalks until only streetlamps were left on the empty streets, with only the occasional car passing by.

Chestnut fell asleep sprawled out on the couch. The atmosphere grew quiet. Some senseless program played on TV as a queer sort of silence began to crawl out inside the house.

Lin Qiushi smelled petrichor. He used to be quite a fan of this smell, until he encountered a particular door. After that, this tainted scent of rainwater became something a lot more unpleasant.

The hour hand turned bit by bit, and twelve o'clock was nearly here.

Lin Qiushi sat in the living room, as if a spirit waiting for the death god's verdict. The switch from day to night came, and the clock hanging on the wall finally began to ring: ding dong, ding dong, ding dong…Twelve chimes heralded in another world.

The moment it became twelve, someone was immediately knocking at his door once more. Backpack on, Lin Qiushi came to the door, and through the peephole saw a woman standing on the other side, smiling at him.

He remembered the woman's name. It was the NPC hidden among the crowd in the Sister's Drum door, Xu Jin.

"Hurry up and come out already," Xu Jin told Lin Qiushi. "Come out already, my sister's coming to find you."

Lin Qiushi didn't open the door. He heard a soft noise from the window, however, and when Lin Qiushi turned, he saw a figure pressed against the glass.

It was a person with all her skin stripped off, her body a mess of blood and flesh from head to toe. The bloody face pressed against Lin Qiushi's glass and her mouth split open, showing Lin Qiushi her stark white teeth. It looked like she was trying to open up the locked window, and judging from her motions, she seemed close to succeeding.

Opening the door looked to be the only option right now. Gritting his teeth, Lin Qiushi twisted open the door handle and faced Xu Jin, standing on the outside.

Xu Jin clearly knew what Lin Qiushi was worried about, and began to chuckle.

"How could I bear to hurt you?" A pause, as her gaze lingered on Lin Qiushi's backpack. "My diary is still in your hands. Did you give it a good read yet?"

Lin Qiushi, "…" Why did he feel like he was being teased?

But there wasn't time for him to worry about that, because Xu Jin's sister was about to come in though the window. Xu Jin grabbed Lin Qiushi by the arm and ran. The two made their way down the hall and came to the elevator.

"Go on inside, but watch out," Xu Jin said. "There are other things that want you dead."

Lin Qiushi asked, "what about you?" He recalled that Xu Jin didn't have a very good relationship with her sister.

"Me?" Xu Jin’s eyes curved up in a sudden smile. "How do you know that I don't want you dead?"

As soon as she said this, the skin on her body began to fall off patch by patch. The startled Lin Qiushi rushed into the elevator and pressed a number.

Xu Jin was chuckling again, and though her laugh was bright like silver bells, her terrifying appearance struck a sharp contrast.

Even though she now looked scarier, she didn't seem keen on pursuing Lin Qiushi.

The elevator started. In theory, Lin Qiushi ought to be safe, but that weird sense of danger once again assaulted the top of his head.

Lin Qiushi looked all around him, and when he spotted a certain something hanging in the elevator, goosebumps appeared all over his body. He'd spotted behind him, on what should have been an empty elevator wall, a huge black picture frame. There was nothing inside the frame, but the frame was pointed at exactly where he was standing.

Lin Qiushi reacted swiftly, hitting the button for the floor closest to him. At the exact same time, black water stains began appearing on the white paper inside that frame. First there was only one drop. Then it began spreading on the canvas paper.

He watched as the shape of that stain began to look more and more like a woman. It dispersed across the canvas and, in a short amount of time, managed to coat the entire large canvas.

Luckily it was then that the elevator reached the nearest floor. Lin Qiushi immediately took off, and the moment he cleared the elevator, a pair of pale white hands burst out of that canvas paper, searching around like it was looking for something to grab hold of.

Lin Qiushi was currently on the sixth floor. The moment he was out of the elevator he turned for the emergency exit right next door, bounding quickly down the stairs.

It was dim in the stairwell, with just enough light to see the path beneath his feet. Lin Qiushi ran down two stories before feeling something was off. He took a closer look, and discovered that he'd been turning round and round on floor six.

The stairs seemed to have become a mobius strip—up, down, backward, forward, it all came back to the sixth floor.

Lin Qiushi's feet screeched to a halt. He took in his surroundings, and noticed, on the white stairwell ceilings, little black spots of water appearing. That chilling stench of rain too was spreading through the air.

The thing had found him. Lin Qiushi made an executive decision and left the stairwell, stepping out onto the hallway. But back in the hall, Lin Qiushi discovered that the corridor had underwent a terrifying change: black frames hung on both sides, and inside each frame was a human head with its expression all twisted up. As for the ceramic tile floor, there was now a new carpet, thick and black—the pattern on it looked the same as in a door they'd encountered before.

Lin Qiushi looked up and saw, on the other other end of the hallway, another painting hanging. That painting was a woman in black with a long, sharp hat. Her eyes were half closed, but it felt like she was staring right down the hall and meeting Lin Qiushi's eyes.

Lin Qiushi wanted to leave the hallway, but when he glanced back, he found that the stairwell he had just came from had disappeared. The length of the hallway too seemed to be slowly shortening; Lin Qiushi could sense the painting of the woman getting closer and closer, closer and closer…

At that moment, a drop of water fell onto Lin Qiushi's forehead. Lin Qiushi gave it a wipe, and realized that it was blood. On reflex he looked up—a black hole had appeared above his head without him noticing, and blood was dripping from its edge onto his head. A pair of black eyes glimmered faintly in the dark, and then right after, a pair of pulpy, bloody hands reached out of the hole for Lin Qiushi.

Lin Qiushi's instincts were to back away, but the strange thing was, the hands stopped when they got to him. As if a miracle, he sensed no animosity from this pair of hands.

The hallway was still getting shorter and shorter, as if it were becoming a cage keen on trapping Lin Qiushi inside. With a clench of his teeth, Lin Qiushi reached up and grabbed the fleshy mess of those hands, and then felt a sudden force as he was brought out of that shrinking hallway.

"Aiya, looks like you can't manage without me after all."

The voice belonged to Xu Jin, but from appearance alone, he couldn't tell it was her at all. The skin on her body was completely gone, leaving only scarlet flesh and blood. She was grinning brightly at Lin Qiushi, and the contrast between her smile and appearance was strange, but Lin Qiushi didn't find it scary at all.

"Thank you," Lin Qiushi said to her.

Xu Jin didn't speak. Her gaze instead leaped over Lin Qiushi to look behind him.

Sensing something, Lin Qiushi too twisted around, and spotted on the other end of the darkness a pair of glowing red eyes.

"Meimei, my sister."

The owner of those eyes was also a skinless monster. She didn't have any legs and could only walk on her hands, but that didn't mean she was slow. She glared at Lin Qiushi with vitriol and bared her teeth; like a hyena hunting its prey, the sheer amount of hatred in her eyes was strong enough to materialize.

"Why did you betray me?" she said. "Do you like him that much? Since you like him so much, why don't I keep him here for you?"

Xu Jin tilted her head, and also smiled.

"But Jiejie, even if you did that, I still won't like you."

After that, she told Lin Qiushi to run, and threw herself at her sister. The two monsters clashed and tangled together.

Lin Qiushi got up and sprinted in the direction of the light. By the time he reached its source, he found that he'd already escaped from the apartment building, and was standing in the yard of the residential block.

It was still raining outside. Lin Qiushi pulled an umbrella out of his backpack and slowly pushed it open, stepping out into the curtaining rain.

The rain came down in sluicing torrents, and the streets were completely empty, with only water splashing along the ground. The rain ought to have been noisy; but at a time like this the loudness of the rain only made the world sound more silent in comparison.

"Help me—help me—"

There was a sudden cry for help. A silhouette came stumbling out of the rain, and Lin Qiushi could just make it out: she was a pitiful-looking young woman, staggering through the rain in a long dress. It looked like she was being pursued by something, and when she spotted Lin Qiushi standing not too far away, it was like she'd found an oasis in the middle of a desert—she came running immediately.

"Help, help!! Please, I'm begging you please help me, something wants to kill me…" She fell to the ground, looking up pathetically at Lin Qiushi. "You're also someone going through the doors, right? So am I, this door is so scary—"

Had this been reality, Lin Qiushi would've definitely helped the young woman up by now. But at this stage he wasn't moving, and a light furrow had appeared between his brows. The truth was, he found the person before him a bit familiar—more specifically, everything that appeared at night now was familiar, and he was certain he'd seen this person somewhere before.

"Mister, mister." The woman collapsed in the rain saw Lin Qiushi unmoved, and slowly crawled forward. She wiped at the rainwater on her face and said, shakily, "I know a safe place, and I can bring you there. Do you want to come with me?"

Lin Qiushi said, "do I know you?"

The woman said, "we met once in the door, and you even helped me out." Her lashes lightly trembled, looking vulnerable as anything. "But I didn't deserve that mercy, I still didn't make it."

"We met inside a door?" Lin Qiushi now found the shape of her eyes familiar. "Which door?"

The woman approached Lin Qiushi, saying, "you know, that one."

As Lin Qiushi watched her, he suddenly spoke: "There's something behind you."

The woman halted.

"A giant picture frame," Lin Qiushi said. "She's here."

The woman wheeled around in fright, but when she didn't see anything behind her, she suddenly realized that Lin Qiushi had recognized her. What had been a pitiful expression immediately went cold.

"It's been a while," Lin Qiushi said, "Yang Meishu."

The woman chuckled coolly.

"You still recognized me?"

Lin Qiushi shrugged. "I didn't want to, but I can count the people who wanted me dead on one hand. Since you're not a ghost, you must be somebody who hates me…"

He paused, and quickly announced, "she really is here."

But Yang Meishu didn't believe him. She said, "do you really think I'm that dumb? You've fooled me once already, you think you can do it again? I—"

As she spoke, getting more and more agitated, she felt a sudden breeze behind her. Yang Meishu glanced back, and found the woman in black standing right behind her. The woman's white face was impassive, and in her hands was a black picture frame that she swung right at Yang Meishu.

Yang Meishu knew this was likely it for her, and a terrible scream came out of her mouth. Right after she screamed, she became a portrait in the hands of the woman; soaked from head to toe, her expression bore both fright and a lively, vivid resentment.

Lin Qiushi took the opportunity to run further away. The woman didn't seem intent on chasing after him either, only watched him go with an icy gaze.

The rain came down in torrents, and Lin Qiushi was completely soaked. In such a strong rain, the umbrella was practically useless. As he ran, he fished out his cell phone and sent Ruan Nanzhu a text.

How are things on your end? After some thought, Lin Qiushi added: I'm fine over here, don't worry about me.

After the text was sent, he didn't get a reply for the longest time. It wasn't until Lin Qiushi found a place to hide from the rain that the message notification dinged, displaying four simple words: I'm good, don't worry.

Seeing the message, Lin Qiushi huffed a bitter laugh. Because how could he not know? Had Ruan Nanzhu truly been alright, the text would not have been so short. Ruan Nanzhu had trained his way through so many doors, so god only knew how many malicious NPCs and dead people from the inside he would meet at night. From what Lin Qiushi understood of him, if he had everything under control, he would've definitely sent a message first asking about Lin Qiushi's situation. Now, even his text message was so short. The situation on his end could not be good.

He wanted so badly just to be by his side—Lin Qiushi clenched his phone and thought bitterly. Whatever he had to experience would be fine, as long as he could be by Ruan Nanzhu's side.

[Ch. 131] | [Ch. 133]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒

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