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angryschnauzer · 4 years ago

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Undercover Honeymoon

Summary; Having survived a helicopter crash that killed off the gang you and your senior agent had infiltrated, you hide out from the storm that brought the aircraft down by pretending to be Honeymooners at a boutique hotel... but what will 24 hours with August Walker bring you? Trouble, that’s what, and the best possible kind.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race or body type specified)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, honestly this is entirely smut, its a crack fic too. Sigh, here goes: face slap, murder, August in a hoodie and grey sweatpants, oral sex (female recieving), blowjob, drunken antics, impared judgement, titty fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, inappropriate lube, multiple orgasms, dubious consent, choking, dom-vibes, Sugar Daddy arrangement (but no Daddy kink).

I do not run a tag list, but if you go and follow @angryschnauzerwrites and hit notifications, you’ll get an alert to any new stories i post. All previous fics can be found on there or on my Ao3

Undercover Honeymoon

The helicopter spiralled out of control, the tall pines looming through the storm of the century rain, screaming filled your ears, unsure if it was the sound of the engines failing or coming from your own lungs. The aircraft made contact with the trees and everything went black.

“Agent… AGENT!” a slap across your face sprang you from your unconscious state, your vision blurred and you winced at the sharp pain that shot through your temple as the face before you came into focus.

“Walker?” you muttered; “Can’t blow our cover…”

Strong arms gripped your shoulders;

“Wake UP! Everyone else is dead”

The next hour was surreal. Agent Walker - your superior officer - had pulled you from the wreckage of the helicopter, past the lifeless bodies of the gang you’d infiltrated, some of which had injuries that looked suspiciously like gunshot wounds. Either way you were alive and so was the other undercover agent, and having spent the last four days running bank robberies you were relieved to be rid of the brutal gang.

Agent Walker had half dragged half carried you through the forest, and even though it was the middle of the day, the torrential rain and dark storm clouds above made the way feel like you were travelling at twilight. When you stumbled on some roots he caught you, his arm firmly around your waist;

“C’mon Agent, not much further now…” his voice softer than usual, reassuring even.

“Where’re we going?”

“Out of season ski lodge… should be quiet this time of year, just a couple of wildlife watchers no doubt”

What you’d been expecting was a cute little place with checkered curtains and cutesy decor, what you’d arrived at was a luxury boutique hotel. Agent Walker had managed to spin a very convincing tale of your car leaving the highway due to the weather and he’d arrange to get it recovered after the storm so you could continue your ‘honeymoon’. The receptionist had smiled warmly and offered the pair of you the luxury suite, August merrily peeling $100 bills off a stack he’d produced from his pocket, the paper band that held them together from the robbery slyly crumpled up and you quietly picked it up from the floor, a tiny smirk on the corner of his face when he spotted you covering his rare mistake.

Ten minutes later you were settled in your shared room, starting to peel yourself out of your soaked boots and clothing as you eyed the enormous bathroom and ultra fluffy robes that were provided.

“I’m going to go to the gift shop…” he announced, breaking the silence; “They do hoodies and stuff, i’ll grab some dry things to change into…”

“Thanks Agent Walker… I’m going to take a bath…”

He nodded quietly, standing at the door;

“It’s August… call me August”

You must have fallen asleep in the bath, as the next thing you know there is an insistent knocking on the bathroom door;

“Honey? Honey, everything ok in there?”

“Y-yes, Sorry, fell asleep…”

“Ok Honey, just got room service here delivering some lunch”

“Thanks Aug… Augie…”

Augie? Where the hell did that come from? You mentally chastised yourself. An hour ago he was your senior agent and all round grumpy supervisor, now he was ‘Augie’? You actually facepalmed yourself before taking a deep breath and climbing out of the bath. A few moments later once you were dry, wearing the fluffy robe you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, your breath catching in your throat;

“Augie… we have company?”

Agent Walker was standing in the middle of the room in his shirt, underwear and socks, talking to the room service attendant as he tipped the young man;

“Darling, lunch is here, you must be famished” he let a warm smile spread over his face as he turned to the staff member; “We must have a bite to eat… expending lots of energy, it is our honeymoon after all…”

Once he’d ushered the man out of the room he cleared his throat and his expression dropped, his face serious again;

“I got your new attire… it fits more with the location” he motioned for you to follow him to the bed where there were a number of things laid out, however your feet were rooted to the floor; “What?”

“You’re… you’re in your underwear…”

He looked down, almost in shock to discover he was without his cargo pants;

“Yes? And you’re completely naked beneath that fetching white robe” he motioned to a side of the bed where a bunch of things were sat on the pristine white duvet; “So unless you wish to eat lunch having me know you are naked save for a glorified towel with sleeves - and that would be a delightful thought - you may want to get changed whilst i shower”

Without another word he smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and grabbed a pile of clothing on the bed, before sauntering into the bathroom, leaving you open jawed at both his sassiness and his tight ass in snug jersey boxers.

Turning back to what was laid on the bed you looked over what he’d managed to get in the hotel’s boutique; a daringly short floral summer dress, a hoodie with the Hotel’s logo on, a pack of novelty thong panties also with bears on, and the highest heeled wedge sandals you’d ever seen. Although none of this surprised you, it was after all the kind of hotel where in good weather, the rich and famous could have cocktails on the deck as they overlooked the Rocky mountains, the fact he’d managed to find your exact size in everything was impressive.

Leaving the heels off for now, you pull the panties and dress on, throwing the hoodie on unzipped to cover up a little, before going to investigate the food, realising that you probably hadn’t eaten for close to 24 hours. You were bent over the service trolley scrutinising the various dishes that had been delivered when you heard his voice;

“Huh, didn’t need to buy you a wallet, those tiny panties show off your silken purse beautifully Princess”

Spinning around you gasped, about to give him a piece of your mind but your train of thought stopped like a record scratch. There before you stood Agent August Walker, grey sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, chest bare as he pulled a khaki green hoodie over his still damp curls. You noticed how his beard was a little beyond stubble, his mustache curling as a small smile tugged as his lips. Your gaze unashamedly ran down the length of his entire body, emphasis on length as it was clear he was without any underwear, and those rumours that were quietly whispered in the ladies room at the Pentagon were looking to be true as to exactly why they called him ‘The Hammer’.

Still holding a cooling French Fry he sauntered over to you before grabbing a sandwich from the platter;

“My apologies… that was inappropriate” he took a bite, before talking with his mouth full; “Been a crazy 24 hours huh?”

“Y-yeah, you could say that… so, what’s the plan?”

Just at that moment an incredible gust of wind rattled the windows to the point you thought they would blow in, the lights overhead flickered before settling back to bright as he answered;

“Eat, Drink, Sleep. We’re stuck here at least overnight. We don’t have any cells or electronics people can trace, and having checked the map this is not the closest civilisation to the crash site so even if people did come looking for us, this isn’t the first place they’d think of… however in this weather the roads are impassable, at least two rivers have breached their banks, we’re basically cut off from the rest of the world here in our own little bubble” he took a bite of sandwich before grinning at you; “So eat up, the bar downstairs is well stocked, dinner is apparently served in about 4 hours, and there’s a game room if you’re up for a round or two of pool…”

Giggling you both tumbled into your suite, August flicking the light switch up and down before realising the power had gone out at the exact moment he’d unlocked the door;

“Oooh dark… are you afraid of the dark Princess?”

The pair of you stumbled and turned, pushing the door shut and you found yourself pressed between it and August’s body, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses along your jugular, his facial hair leaving behind a trail of tingling skin in its wake;

“Depends who i’m in the dark with…”

He was so close, in the faint last traces of daylight as the storm took hold of the night you could see the outline of his face, how his long eyelashes rested against his cheeks as he closed his eyes, his breath warm on your skin as you were surrounded by his scent, pine soap and single malt whiskey;

“A monster…”

“I was never afraid of monsters…”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, pressing a kiss to your clothed stomach before his hands were beneath the skirt and pulling your novelty panties down;

“Hold your dress up Princess, show me that pretty pussy”

Doing as he told you, you gripped the pretty fabric in your hands as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before his thick fingers parted your folds and he dived in. His mustache and light beard pricked at your sensitive skin, but his tongue and lips soothed your aching core, desperate for attention and dripping with need as he went to town on you. He quickly brought you to orgasm before pushing you on for the next, his fingers now knuckle deep in your velvet walls, curling just right to find that spot that had you dripping, his tongue working against your clit to the point where you had to steady yourself by curling one hand through his soft chestnut curls, riding his face as you cried out his name.

Now over sensitive, you pulled his curls to get him to relent, a grunt of frustration coming from between your thighs;

“Augie… please… too sensitive…”

He quickly stood, lifting you to kiss you roughly, his tongue pushing into your mouth and you could taste yourself on his tongue as he gripped your ass as he carried you across the room before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed;

“Strip” he commanded as he staggered to the bathroom.

You ignored his request, instead reaching for a bottle of water at the side of the bed, taking a drink from he as he returned holding a bottle;

“August… what’s that?”

He looked down at the bottle, almost surprised he was holding something and blinked a few times before looking back at you;

“Baby oil. Its... Baby oil”

“Why do you have Baby oil?” you asked, already knowing the answer but with a sly streak wanting to get him to admit it

“Because they didn’t sell condoms in the gift shop so i cant fuck your pussy because i can’t check to see if you’re on birth control” he blurted out quickly.

Whatever you had been expecting, it hadn’t been that, and as you coughed on the water you had been about to drink, August got distracted and moved to light the candles that sat on the table in the centre of the room now that the only available light was the tiny light over the sink in the bathroom that was battery operated. You watched as he somehow managed to strike the matches and light the candles even though he was visibly drunk, before returning back to the bed and standing over you;

“Why aren’t you naked?” he frowned at you; “Don’t make me rip that pretty little dress off of you Princess”

Shimmying out of your dress you bit your lip as you watched him watching you, the low light dancing over your body and enough for you to see the obscene bulge barely contained by his sweatpants. He stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you before he took hold of your ankles and roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed before he pulled the grey sweats down and you finally got sight of his legendary hammer;

“Fuck…”

“We’ll get to that Princess, but first, suck”

Taking him in your hands he was hot and throbbing at your touch, his thick shaft patterned with veins, heavy and virile. You pumped your fist, your fingers unable to meet as you worked his uncut dick. You felt his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer until you had no choice but to open your mouth and take him as deep as you could, gagging as he immediately hit the back of your throat and started to fuck your mouth.

Holding your head in place with both hands he rocked his hips back and forth, groaning as he stretched your lips almost uncomfortably. Soon you had spit running down your chin as he rained down a stream of degrading compliments;

“Cock hungry slut, look at you with my dick in your mouth… does it taste good, Jesus christ your tongue is perfect, yeah do that thing again, fuck, i can feel your throat tight around me…” with a gasp he pulled out, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his angry red tip, before he grabbed the baby oil and pushed you back until you were laying flat on the bed;

“Push your tits together, i’m gonna fuck them and cum all over your pretty face”

He climbed on the bed, straddling your lower torso as you found yourself pushing your breasts together. The click of a bottle of baby oil and it was being poured in the valley of your chest, before he settled his dick against the slick skin. He dropped the bottle and with a grunt pulled his hoodie over his head, revealing his glorious chest, covered in dark hair and thicker than you had realised.

His dick was heavy against your chest as he took your hands in his and showed you how he wanted you to hold your titties for him, rocking his hips bath and forth as his hot flesh slipped through your soft pillows, the angry tip poking out at your neck with each thrust;

“So fucking pretty, gonna cum all over that face… you wanna taste my cum you little slut? Yeah? Cock hungry slut, can’t get enough of my dick, can you?”

You didn’t answer, the lust in his eyes making you drunk with desire, instead you tipped your head to your chest and opened your mouth, letting August’s dick slide into your mouth, the salty tang of his precum hitting your senses.

His thrusts were becoming rough and violent, his hips squeezing your ribcage as he fought back against the urge to cum, but you wanted it, needed it;

“August, will you cum on my face, pretty please?” you batted your eyelashes at him innocently and it was the final straw, and you watched as he threw his head back and thick ropes of his creamy seed spurted over your mouth and cheeks as he groaned so deliciously. On the last spurt you leaned forwards and took his tip into your mouth, gently laving your tongue over the leaking slit, before releasing him softly. August had eased his gasp on your tits, and using his thick finger he scooped the cum from your cheek;

“Open wide Princess”

Sticking your tongue out you sucked the bitter treat from his finger, before he repeated it with the other cheek. Finally swallowing you grinned at him;

“Thank you August”

His hand paused on your cheek, softly cupping it;

“Anything for you Princess… now scoot up the bed, i wanna eat that pussy again whilst i get you ready for my dick”

He swung his leg over so you could wriggle up the bed, and immediately he was laying between your legs, both of your thighs over his shoulders as he started to sloppily eat you out again, except this time his lubed fingers strayed to your asshole and he already had one knuckle deep in your back entrance. You were writhing against his tongue, and although not as accurate with his targets this time now that the alcohol in his system was taking hold, that wide tongue was driving you to heaven as his fingers pulled you down into the dark pits of depravity that hell could only contain. You were uttering almost incomprehensible gibberish, begging for more which he eagerly gave, a second and soon a third finger stretching your ass as he prepared you for what was yet to come. You came with a scream as his wide tongue tormented your pussy until you had to physically pull him by his curls to stop, breathless as you watched him kneel on the bed and grab the baby oil, pouring some onto his hand to lube his dick before smoothing a considerable amount over your asshole and lined up his now raging hard on with your stretched hole. He paused, looking down at you;

“Final chance to back out… do you want me to fuck your ass?”

“Yes… please August, i want your dick in my ass, i want you to cum in my ass, treat me like a dirty anal slut”

With a groan he pushed forwards, slowly breaching your body and you felt the uncomfortable stretch of having a dick slide into your ass. Even with the prep and the oil it still took a while for your body to relax enough for him to push in, but when he eventually was balls deep in your ass you felt so full you were sure you would burst;

“Oh my god… You’re so big…”

“Taking me like a champ Princess, even with the oil your ass is so fucking tight i’m struggling not to blow my load right here and now”

“Fuck my ass August, do it hard, i wanna feel it in the morning…”

With a roar he started to fuck into you, holding himself up on his massive arms as his hips pistoned into you, filling your barren depths as his pubic bone rubbed against your empty pussy and your juices flooded his crotch;

“So fucking wet Princess, leaking all down your ass, its only adding to the lube so i can fuck you harder. Your poor little battered asshole, you’re barely gonna be able to sit tomorrow… apart from back on my dick as we have breakfast, don’t think this is the only time i’m gonna fuck your ass, i’m gonna use this hole until you’re loose and stretched, so i can just bend you over and slide my dick into your ass. Gonna hide those stupid panties i bought you, i want you walking around bare, my cum dripping down your legs where there’s so much inside you, you can barely keep it inside… shame the gift shop didn’t sell plugs, i woulda’ filled you with my load and have you plugged and ready lubed for me to use whenever i pleased…”

August’s dirty talk had you cumming hard, squeezing him tight and yet he fucked you straight through it. Laying limp as he continued to fill your ass he slowed and moved, kneeling on the bed as he moved your legs from either side of his lips until both your feet were over one of his shoulders, pushing and pulling you until he had one arm firmly wrapped around your knees and he could fuck into your ass as he held you like a rag doll. The new position was tighter, deeper, and as you started to pant out with lust his free hand rested on your throat, squeezing carefully but firmly;

“Harder…” you panted out, your head swimming as your airway was restricted, and as he pounded into your ass you were both getting close.

“Gonna cum in your ass, fill you up with a massive load, you want that Princess?”

You tried to say yes, but all that came out was a tiny croak as his massive hand gripped your throat. Before you could even try again your orgasm hit, your eyes rolling back in their sockets as you squirted, your body gripping him so tight he reached his peak, pushing in as deep as he could as he pumped your ass full of his cum.

August released his grip on your neck, pulling out gently as he softly lay your legs on the bed;

“Did so well Princess, such a good little slut…”

You could only hum out a response, your mind as used as your body was.

You woke to the sound of soft rain falling against the window, peering out from beneath the duvet you could see that the grey light of morning was filling the room, the storm seemingly blown mostly through with just a persistent rain now dampening the earth. Shifting on the bed you winced, everything was sore, but especially your ass. But then a warm body pressed to your back, a large hand smoothed over your stomach and a familiar voice spoke softly in your ear as stubble brushed against your bare shoulders;

“Rise and shine…”

“Hmmmmm no, i don’t wanna get up” you grumbled

“But…”

“Noooo. If we get up then we’ve got to think about things going back to normal, i just wanna pretend i’m able to stay in a hotel as nice as this when i’m not trying to escape a dangerous gang… too many responsibilities, too much stress… i just want another half hour of being treated like a Princess” you grumbled.

A quiet chuckle came from behind you;

“There’s no reason why we can’t do this again”

Turning in his arms, you looked at August;

“How? You’re my superior Agent, the CIA pushes and pushes and pushes, I never get enough time off to do something like this, If i had known i was literally signing my life away i would never have signed up for the academy. What’s the fucking use of earning a good wage if i can never enjoy it… and its not even that good of a wage to be honest…” you paused and narrowed your gaze; “Have you showered?”

“Yes. And i have a proposition for you…”

“Keep talking…”

August started to move, slowly climbing between your legs and you felt his hard dick resting against your folds, your pussy instinctively growing wet, slowly rubbing against you as he smiled down at you;

“As a senior agent i get a considerably better wage than you do, but i don’t have anyone to share it with, anyone to treat like a Princess and spoil with gifts that they deserve… but i also want someone that will be agreeable to my darkest desires…” he rocked his hips back before slowly parting his thighs, and you felt the nudge of his tip at your soaked pussy; “... someone, a woman i can treat like a Princess but will let me fuck them like a whore… can i fuck your pussy like a whore?”

The gentle nudge of his dick just stretching the ring of muscle that granted access to the heaven between your legs had you begging, pleading to be August’s Whore. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he slowly sank into your pussy, bare and unprotected filling you with his virile shaft;

“You’re my Slutty Princess…taking my dick like a pro”

In that hotel room August Walker became your sugar Daddy, and over room service breakfast you agreed the details of your arrangement as you sat on his lap, his dick in your ass as he fed you strawberries, before he grew impatient and bounced you on his dick until he came in your barren depths. Resting back against his chest, his softening dick still inside you he played with your pussy as he discussed the next step, trying to decide if a trip to an adult store or a jewellery store should be the first stop after returning to DC;

“How about a jewelled plug?” you suggested; “That’s the best of both worlds”

Holding your jaw he turned your head so he could kiss you, pulling away and grinning;

“See, that’s why you’re the perfect Princess, smart and sexy…”

You felt him start to harden in your ass again, wriggling and letting out a giggle as you felt him stretch your insides;

“Over the table or out on the balcony in the rain?” you asked

“Oooh lets do the balcony… its check out time so a few other guests will be able to see my little slut have her battered asshole filled with another load”

There on the balcony that overlooked the serene mountains August filled your ass again, your naked bodies soaked with the rain as he gripped your breasts whilst he fucked you from behind.

You couldn’t wait to be August’s play thing.

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker smut #henry cavill

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sadaakirah · 4 years ago

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Swelter : Rumour Has It

"I'll hold you to your promise, Mikasa."

Finally wrote Part 3. Thank you for reading parts 1 and 2 💗 I am terrible at summaries.

Part I / II / III

Levi wears something akin to worry on his visage when he takes in the indentations of the battle-hardened leather gear on her muscled arms slowly disappearing under white fabric.

Mikasa turns around to see her half-dressed Captain get up from the chair where she had been draped over not too long ago.

The large windows behind him usher in a cool breeze and show the crescent moon against a darkening sky.

He comes to a halt several steps before her with lighted lamp in hand; the fire flickers wildly against the cool breeze and the orange lights dance against his unreadable face.

Her calloused fingers graze over the worrisome folds between Levi's eyebrows, ironing them down into a peaceful expression placed on top of a strikingly more youthful man.

"I'll be handing this over to Armin first thing in the morning, and I'll take the day off to check out the property," her gaze points to the piece of paper on his desk. "But I trust your choice nonetheless, Captain."

"Your decision on the matter is still important."

He leaves out to me but she catches it nonetheless and offers up a genuine smile in response. A myriad of visions of home surface into her mind.

"Tell me about the house again, Captain," she asks, bending down to slip a boot on slowly.

"Two storeys, two bedrooms in the top floor, large arched windows" Levi states concisely - she thinks of a home bestowed with her embroidery, her mother's and her grandmother's -"a garden in the back and a large tree overlooking a small lake. Right, that sounds perfect," she adds, stretching her toes out in her well-worn boots.

Levi hums his approval, low in his throat.

Blue specks in his gunmetal eyes measure this Mikasa before him - bathed in an afterglow, the embers of light reflected on the sheen of her forehead, with her loosened tongue, loosened limbs.

"Enough space for the beginnings of a humble tea shop downstairs, and there's a tea plantation nearby."

Just like the plans he had told her about 5 months ago, when they found each other awake after the nightmares failed to let sleep take them, right after she had divulged wanting to settle down far from the walls, with a small cottage and a flower garden and an aging tree to look over her aging self and her house.

It became difficult for Levi to reconcile the image of the better half of Humanity's Strongest leading a simple, predictable life, alone and with all the time in her world to ponder about the blood on her hands as her mind flips through well-archived nightmare fodder.

So instead of telling her that he cares too deeply to let her be miserable, one night under a full moon they had discussed the post-military benefits that would go into purchasing property, the climate perfect for growing tea and flora and everything under the sun except how much they would miss each other's ever-constant presence, the knowing lone figure knocking on the door at night that would keep the nightmares at bay after waking up, the cup of black tea that would appear at Levi's desk when he needed it the most, the clothes torn from training cadets that would end up magically sewn the next day when Mikasa had forgotten to take care of them.

Ever the pragmatic duo they finally settled on pooling their post-military funds together to look for a place of residence that would suit their shared needs.

"And if you do want to take responsibility, you'd be working for free for me in that teashop."

Despite herself, she looks at him, with apparent surprise that he had still been mulling over that word in his mind.

She wonders if he would name the shop Ackerman Tea and chuckles at the afterthought.

Too late in the effort of sobering herself from the afterglow, the words leave her mouth without being put through a filter first.

Her next words aren't loud, but they are true.

"I promise to take responsibility, Captain. For all my insubordination, the times you had to drag my stubborn ass away from danger, for all the times I injured you." She gathers her raven locks away from the back of her neck, where the strands clung uncomfortably, and into a small bun. "But working in your sweatshop without pay was not what I had in mind."

She pushes his soft hair back and places a tender kiss to his forehead- her lips cool againt his heated skin.

Levi's heart constricts momentarily - would he dare even think about it, the home and the peace she was offering him now?

He takes the letter into his hands again, and presses his lips together with the frustration he refuses to exhibit.

"You say that like you're the poster child of obedience now", he deadpans, instead.

This time, she tosses him an unimpressed glare, something she had picked up from years of training and learning under him.

"Could we hold a house-warming party?"

Levi shifts his gaze down to take a cursory glance at the paper, goes through the motions of reading, while Mikasa starts buttoning his shirt.

...15th Commander, Survey Corps, Armin Arlert

Levi grunts.

"I'd be more than delighted to celebrate the last day I ever have to see those brats."

She had never heard that term being uttered so affectionately by him before.

This letter is intended to serve as my official resignation...

"We can hold it under that tree. I could wear that blue dress Historia gave me."

Mikasa runs her hands over his buttoned shirt, smoothening away any creases from their bout of passion earlier today.

...two weeks from the aforementioned date...

Levi's eyes scan the slanted inked letters, till they begin to lose focus halfway down the crinkled paper.

based on my spotless record...receive an honorable discharge...

He hums his consent, but it's not a blue dress he sees.

He sees Mikasa clad in white and lace, the lights and the leaves playing with shadows across the angles of her face, while he reaches up to tuck in a lock behind her ear.

"Expect nothing less than the sharpest suit on me," Levi adds with mirth.

Mikasa thinks of her Captain, who took hold of her bloody, shaken frame, pulling her back to this world following Eren's inevitable demise, in the days when Armin and her had refused to look at one other; could not look at one another, knowing what they had done to their own family.

Mikasa thinks of the same strong arms, swaying her to the soft tunes at Armin's wedding, his muscles cascading under one of his impeccable dark suits.

She doesn't let herself think of worn-out memories spent on the coast during the war. She thinks of Levi's strong arms and Armin's softened smile and finds her own happiness in between. Those were happier days, and Levi had been there to see them with her too.

..been an honour and pride working alongside my brave comrades and superiors...

"We'll invite our closest friends and comrades."

Levi wonders if he could dance with her again, if she would let him.

He still recalls the coolness of her cheek against the crook of his neck, the gentle smile on her lips that day, as they danced with sand between their toes.

Would she wear that smile for him?

Would their comrades cheer and cause a ruckus like they had at Armin's wedding?

"Don't forget the wine."

Levi thinks of Erwin and the bottles of fine wine he had bequeathed upon him, aging away in the cellar.

Levi thinks of leaving two chairs empty - one at the head of the table and another at his left.

Mikasa's warm hand is on his hips now, as she gingerly pulls his belt through the loops, an act so affectionate, it should not have been.

He thinks of that same warm hand again, intertwined in his own, at his right side. She had always been his right hand.

He painfully wonders how many seats she would leave empty at the table if the thought had ever occurred to her, but decides to not dwell on that.

...Sincerely, Lieutenant Mikasa Ackerman.

In its stead, he thinks of a companionable silence between the two of them, one they had shared many years ago when she stopped trying to actively spite him. Mikasa humming a tune and working on her embroidery; Levi sewing the last cravat she ever ripped.

"Thank you for everything, Levi." Mikasa looks at him, setting the buckle in place.

Levi tilts his head. He's studying the number of her lashes, the seconds spanning between each blink, the quiver of her lip as she starts and stops to say something else.

The manner in which he studies her is so methodical she almost steps away.

He doesn't realize he's tracing heiroglyphs into her inner wrists until she shivers under his ministrations. It pulls Levi back to the moment.

For the first time, he decides to voice his thoughts honestly. When he speaks, he looks straight at her.

"I'll hold you to your promise, Mikasa."

Her breath hitches. Levi doesn't need to clarify which promise.

In response, she kisses him, gingerly at first, her lips molding onto his smile.

This kiss is different than before- it is softer, it is Mikasa hesitant but daring to ask for more.

Levi pulls her closer to him and pushes her against the desk this time, deepening the kiss.

Each of his touches is too deliberate, too sure and Mikasa feels her body aflame again. The kiss is now bruising.

Mikasa aligns herself to him. Her deft fingers start undoing the task they had been preoccupied with moments back. The buckle clatters and comes unfastened.

They make love slowly, cautiously.

After that they fuck at a pace so wanton, it is the second time that day that Levi screams her name without restraint.

Approved and signed...Captain Levi Ackerman.

The next morning the new cadets are unable to come to terms with Mikasa's sudden resignation notice, when they find themselves at the mercy of a balding subsitute, instead of their Lieutenant.

The next morning, Mikasa is surprised to find Levi taking the day off too. He says it is to show her around the property, to make sure she doesn't get lost as if she's some newborn babe.

But in all honestly, he wants to burn the image of Mikasa and him swaying across wooden floors, their only audience being the sunlight filtering in from the large, arched windows.

When they get back later that night, it is Armin who takes it upon himself to call Mikasa and Levi into his office, and tell them of the unsubstantiated rumours that have been making rounds among the cadets concerning Mikasa's pending resignation.

"Apparently you and the Captain fought - nothing new here - except the events concerning the incidence this time are alarming."

The Commander's grave gaze flickers from the duo in front of him, both wearing mirroring quizzical expressions of their own.

"Mikasa, some terrified cadets say they saw you throw Levi over his own desk! And Levi, another one swore she heard you screaming at Mikasa from outside your office. Is there something I should know?"

"Nosy, shitty brats", Levi mumbles under his breath.

"Pardon, Captain?"

"Nothing of that sort...happened. Unsubstantiated rumours from cadets in heat-stroke." Mikasa squeaks in, her face slightly reddening. Armin chalks that up to the summer heat.

"Alright then, I'll take your word for it."

Armin clears some documents away from his desk, and places Mikasa's resignation letter in front of the pair.

"Mikasa, you still need to submit an address before you are eligible to apply for the post-military funds."

Mikasa fishes a piece of paper containing the details of her, their, new residence, and hands it to the Commander.

Armin studies the address in his hand carefully. He looks up at her, with his features softened by a genuine smile.

"See you in Chlorba next week, Mikasa", She returns his gesture before shuffling out of his office.

"And your new address, Captain?"

Levi stalls for a second then taps his index finger twice against the paper Mikasa had left.

"Well, guess you're not carpooling with the rest of us next week, Captain".

Levi decides that leaving now would keep matters simple, and he closes the door to surface into the corridor, where he unsurprisingly finds Mikasa waiting for him.

Armin chuckles to himself slightly, happy that his best friend is in safe hands, happy that his Captain no longer keeps his own happiness at an arm's length away.

"Ah, rumours indeed."

----

Thank you so much for reading my first Rivamika fic. Your comments made my heart very happy. 💕

When and if I improve at writing, I plan on revisiting this and editing this fic a bit more.

Sure hope the Ackerman duo keep experimenting with their new dynamic from the last chapter 💦

#rivamika #mikasa ackerman #levi ackerman #rivamika fic

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snippychicke · 5 years ago

Text

Aftermath--Three

Chapter Three is here! The last of the set up chapters, after this is mostly just...fluff.

No warnings, I think. A surprise waits inside, however.

First | Previous

Otto had spent most of his adult life working for the commission. A few time jumps to different eras and decades, but mainly staying somewhere in the 1960s since it seemed the more precarious times. Nuclear war liked to develop at the drop of a pin, and even the most well-meaning change could spell Armageddon thanks to trigger-happy Americans and Russians.

(Though a few times it was the UK and France. And once China, which the rest of the world hadn't realized had nuclear weapons until it was too late.)

But no matter where or when he was, he was with his brothers. Oscar might have mingled with the civilian population once in a while, but he, like Axel, either had other responsibilities or would rather relax at their temporary home than deal with the locals.

He wasn't used to civilians and their quiet, dull lives. Granted, Lorelei often had her radio on to break the silence if she were home, and the grainy black and white TV was usually turned to the news. (She also had a habit of chattering while changing the dressings on his eye every morning and every night. Even if half the time her southern drawl made her words hard to understand, her tone and lit were pleasing to listen to.)

It was still dull, with nothing but the pain to distract him from his thoughts. Losing Oscar had been hard enough, the wound still fresh on his heart. Even now, he expected his younger brother to try and ambush him just to get a reaction out of him. Or hear him trying and failing to sing to the more upbeat music on the radio, stumbling over the English words.

Then he lost Axel; his last memory of his older brother being of his hands around his neck and Axel's face twisted in both rage and grief of not controlling his actions. Otto found himself praying to some unknown power that Axel was out there, somewhere, carrying on.

Otto feared if their position had been reversed, he wouldn't be strong enough. He struggled as it was, but the thought of finding Axel gave him strength. Believing his brother was out there gave him the motivation to keep trying to regain his strength.

And startling Lorelei was becoming decent amusement as well.

"Why are you doing pushups?! Shit, your eye is bleeding again!" (It often did at inconvenient times, leading to her fretting like a mother hen. She wouldn't rest until he allowed her to fuss to her heart's content. )

"Why are all my kitchen knives impaled in the garage wall?" (Relearning to aim with just one eye was becoming a chore. And he gave in to the need to take a break just as she returned from work. She quickly forgot about the knives as soon as she saw he was bleeding, again, and about five seconds from passing out.)

"Jesus Mary and Joesph, I swear Otto, you may not be a serial killer, but you definitely have a screw or two loose!" (He swore she hadn't dusted the cobwebs from her ceiling in decades, but considering how small she was compared to him, he couldn't wholly blame her. To his amusement, she tried to steal the feather duster he had found, jumping pathetically to try and reach it as he held it out of reach. It reminded him of Oscar, and then it wasn't quite as amusing.)

It wasn't that he was getting soft towards her; it was simply that he had a sense of honor. The reverse of an eye for an eye; she had been kind insane enough to help him. The lengths she went to and fussing over him as if she genuinely cared, made him feel indebted to her. He could tell Raymond didn't trust him, giving him a dark look when he visited every day.

But he couldn't harm her. He had no reason to (and it certianly wasn't because she tried so hard to show him kindness. Like when she tenderly brushed his hair away from his forehad when she feared a fever. Being so careful during dressing changes, her voice soft and soothing, her touch gentle. She quickly picked up on his body language and did her best to distract him when his thoughts got dark.)

It was nearly two weeks before he was feeling well enough to think about leaving seriously. Two weeks no sign of Axel. He kept an eye on the news for anything bearing his brother's mark, but there was nothing—no trail for him to follow, making him antsy.

The longer he stayed, the farther Axel was. (He refused to believe there was any other reason. Axel was out there. Somewhere.)

It felt a bit wrong to leave when Lorelei was at work with nothing more than a note saying thank you on the kitchen counter and assuring the small room was in perfect condition (or as best as could be, considering the old worn everything.)

It took him a while to find the small cat house, feeling like it was halfway across the suburb of south Dallas (or it could have been that he wasn't quite up to strength just yet.) The ragged curtains were still drawn shut; a few of the cats lounging in the windows enjoying the sun while others relaxed on the small steps thanks to the little cat door Oscar had crudely cut shortly after they had 'moved in.'

The cats welcomed him with plaintive meows, rubbing and threading through his legs. The fact the place smelled like an unclean catbox was enough to confirm Axel was no longer using it as a base. The large bag of dry cat food was spilled across the kitchen and living room, yet the cats were far more interested in him as he searched the small house for any sign of Axel.

But every trace of their residence had been cleaned away per protocol, with not even the vaguest of hints where Axel's next destination was.

Except, for some reason, his and Oscar's bags were still stuffed in the hallway closet, packed and ready for a quick retreat, just as they had left it. The ache in Otto's chest strengthened at seeing his little brother's pack buried beneath his, the white and black milkman hat sticking out from where Oscar had quickly stuffed it before that last mission.

Otto could still remember chastening him to take better care of it if he honestly wanted to keep it, and Oscar had groaned he would fold it correctly when they got back.

Except his little brother didn't return with them that day.

Only the cats were witness to him, pulling the hat out and falling to his knees as he clutched it to his chest, biting his tongue to trap the scream of agony from escaping.

--+--

Lorelei supposed she shouldn't be too surprised when she returned to an empty house. She had noticed a restless shift in Otto for the last few days. The kind she had seen before in others that had stayed with her to recuperate before they too moved on.

At least he was kind enough to tidy up after himself (was it embarrassing that he was a better housekeeper than her?) And he had even left a piece of paper saying thank you that she pinned to her fridge.

She knew Raymond would be relieved when he found out he had left. Even though Otto proved he wasn't about to hurt either of them, her soul brother was about as distrustful as could be when it came to him (granted it was somewhat earned.)

But she was going to miss him and his odd antics. Like how he had sat at the kitchen table, all of her knives laid out before him along with an old whetstone he had found somewhere in her junk drawer, and spend probably at least a few hours just sharpening the dulled blades. (Generally, after he used them for target practice.) His determination to find some odd house chore she had slacked on and finish it without so much as a word.

He had been silent, but it wasn't the oppressive silence like her father's had been, where she knew he was boiling about something (like her existence). Sure, once in a while, it would be broody or antagonistic when Raymond visited, or something reminded him of something dark in his frankly mysterious past. But otherwise, it had been amicable.

Even when she was chatty out of nerves or after a particularly stressful day, he hadn't seemed annoyed. Instead, she sometimes would catch a faint smile as she prattled on. Or even a light huff of laughter when she made a joke, and he shook his head slightly because her jokes were usually terrible puns.

"Oh, I'm an old biddy," she sighed to her comatose patient the next day, setting up another saline flush along with the IV antibiotics. "Here, I keep telling everyone that I'm fine being by myself, yet here I am getting attached to an absolute stranger. I should just get some cats, huh?"

The man was silent, which she expected. The doctors had just been in to check the healing stump of where his leg had been. Which meant the nurse had dosed him with plenty of pain meds just an hour before. Partially to help negate the pain from the procedure itself, but also so he wouldn't try to grab the nearest person as a hostage.

That encounter still left many of the other nurses hesitant to enter the room. It had been the day after the John Doe had been brought in the emergency room, found by a couple of hunters just outside of town with a traumatic amputation of his left lower leg.

One minute he had been asleep (or assumed) as the doctors discussed treatment plans, and the next, he had jumped up, grabbed one of the nurses, and had a ballpoint pen pressed against her throat while swearing something in an odd language as everyone scrambled.

What was with white-haired men and being violent? Granted, she had never seen Otto like she had the John Doe, his pale blue eyes wild with both rage and pain.

Which was why restraints were now strapped to the remaining three limbs. The straps rattled against the metal sidebars as John Doe stirred, making Lorelei pause. His young face was twisted into a grimace, and she moved to brush his forehead out of instinct.

"Bror?" He mumbled, making her stomach twist in guilt. She didn't think her rambling would wake him.

"Shh, it's okay, hun. Just get some rest," She smoothed his messy white hair, smiling as he relaxed back into sleep.

"Lorelei, you know you're crazy, right?" One of her fellow nurses asked as she slipped from the secured room and into the nearby nurses' station, "Going into that room by yourself. You saw what he did to Mary Lou!"

"Well, how would you feel waking up without a leg and a bunch of people hovering over you, talking in a different language," she shot back defensively as she grabbed John Doe's chart.

"Not homicidal," her coworker responded, working on her own chart notes. "I mean, I'd scream for sure, but I doubt I'd be able to move the way he did. Hell, I doubt I'd ever been that quick."

---+---

Lorelei supposed she shouldn't have been happy to see Otto sitting on the front steps of her home the next evening. She had a crappy day, her feet were killing her, and she was planning on just crashing in her bed. Yet seeing him on the cement step, two large backpacks sitting on the dilapidated porch, made the end of her day a little better.

He looked up, the bandage still wrapped around half of his face, but she was pleased not to notice any blood staining the gauze. She wasn't so happy to see the melancholy expression on his face.

She took a seat on the step next to him, feeling warmth radiate him to chase off the chilly December air. She wasn't brave enough to look at him, and instead plucked a piece of dead grass from the lawn. "Don't tell Ray, but you make a decent house guest. Not many men clean up after themselves, let alone fight me about dustin' or sweeping them cobwebs out."

She peeked a glance after a pause and felt relief to see a faint smile on his face as he focused on the dusk colored sky. "I won't ask what you've been up to, as long as it ain't gonna be bringing any police around here."

"No," he answered her joking comment gravely.

"Kay, good." She tore at the blade of grass some more. "So... Are you looking for a place to stay, or are you just here to say bye for good?"

This time he did meet her gaze. His dark eye looked haunted, and she could see the telltale marks of crying by the red rims and puffiness of his lids. Her fingers ached to reach out and try to soothe the crease around his good eye, to bring some sort of comfort, so she shifted to sit on her hand instead, hoping he would think her fingertips were cold. "Because like I said, you're a nice house guest. You do your own share of the chores, and you can stay as long as you like. Just no more using my good steak knives as darts, you got me?"

"Yes," he answered solemnly, making her heart jump. "...Do you like cats?"

His question surprised her for a moment before she smiled. "Yeah, I do. I was just telling my patient that I should get a few."

He nodded his head without elaborating further, though she swore there was a thoughtful expression on his face as he watched the last glimmer of the sun fade away.

The silence this time was broken by her stomach growling, earning an amused glance from Otto as she blushed. "Right. Well, I'm hungry,' she hurriedly jumped up and offered her hand to him. "Shall we?"

He accepted her hand, the callouses firm against her skin. It still surprised her how tall he towered over her. "Let's see; I have fish sticks or hot dogs. It's up to you…."

---+---

Lorelei woke the next morning to a blank and white angular-face cat kneading her pillow; its purr a deep growl. As soon as the cat realized she was awake, it butted its head against her as a greeting, its purr becoming louder.

"Where did you come from?" She asked as she sat up, allowing him to crawl into her lap. The cat, of course, didn't answer but continued to knead her lap. She picked up the cat and descended the stairs, following the smell of sausage and the quiet mewl of other cats. A group of them were sitting expectantly at Otto's feet, jumping when he would toss a piece of an egg at them. All of them boney and looking as if he had found them wandering the streets.

"Dare I ask?" She asked, shifting the cat to protect her modesty as he glanced over at her. She didn't miss the quick once-over before he shrugged and returned towards breakfast.

"You said you liked cats."

Living with him was going to be fun, Lorelei decided as she allowed the cat down to join its brethren at his feet and instead shuffled towards the fridge. "True. I did say that." She just didn't expect so many. They were all weaving around him, eager for a treat, which made it hard to count, but she swore there were at least a dozen. "So… do they have names?"

"Bebis."

She waited for him to elaborate and frowned when he didn't. "Are you saying they are babies, or that they are all named Bebis?"

"Both," he answered, shooting her a quick half-smile as he flicked another piece of an egg at them.

"Oh no, that isn't going to work. I mean, I fully agree they're babies, but they need their own names." She busied herself with setting up the kettle for coffee, trying not to think how easy it was moving around each other, or how much happier she felt compared to the last two days.

It was the cats; she decided as one jumped up on the counter to pester her. Definitely the cats. She blushed when she noticed Otto watching her out of the corner of her vision as she baby-talked to the small tabby that looked like it hadn't eaten in weeks.

Just the cats.

Next Chapter

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua swedes #tua otto #tua Oscar #tua Axel #otto x reader #the umbrella academy fanfic #jason bryden #fic: aftermath

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othervio · 5 years ago

Note

Hey, I know it's been awhile since you made that FS cosplay tutorial, but I was wondering if you could explain how you made the sword template? It's super useful but I want to translate it to other things too

(Here is the tutorial anon mentioned)

Sure thing! :D I’ll use the Four Sword as an example again, but all of this applies to whatever you want to make. ^^

Gather as many references as you possibly can. It helps a lot if you can find a photo of it straight-on, but seeing it at different angles is important too. In the case of the Four Sword, there’s really only two official pieces of art for it, but I was making the manga version anyway, so I looked there for references.

The next step is a little different depending on if you’re doing this on paper or digitally.

On paper-Looking at your references, draw on a big piece of paper (or lots of small pieces of paper taped together) about how big you want the sword to be. For the most part... I just eyeball it, trying to draw it out as exactly as I possibly can. Using a ruler helps with any straight edges.

If the sword is symmetrical, try folding the paper in half and drawing only one half of it. That way, when you cut it out, it unfolds to be exactly the same on both sides.

Digitally-You basically do the same thing as above, but with an extra step. You can use any drawing software you want, and using a digital software to make a template is often easier since you can make straight lines easily, as well as trace your reference (if you have one that’s good enough.)

The extra step comes with printing- how do you print it at the right size? ...There’s probably a right way to do this but honestly I just stick the template into microsoft word and guess. I go back and adjust the size as needed.

(the horizontal lines were just added so I’d know where to line them up)

This can be applied to other things as well! I made these shields by using this method. I drew up my template, printed it out, cut out the foamboard and glued it all together.

(Two layers of foamboard for thickness + one layer for the chrome rim. Add straps on the back and ta-da! You have a shield.)

I hope that answers all of your questions! If not, just shoot me another ask. If time allows, I’m going to try to make the Master Sword using this method, and I’ll try to document it as I go.

Good luck! :D

#tutorial #cosplay tutorial #cosplay sword #cosplay swords #four swords #cosplay #my cosplay #Anonymous

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daybreak-academy-fanfic · 5 years ago

Text

Daybreak Academy: Chapter 66

Past Matters

Summary: In which Invi talks to an old lover about someone very important to her. Word Count: 1,481 First | Previous | Next ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

Invi had met Kadin Nyoka two years ago, give or take. She and the other headmasters had decided to attend a teaching summit one summer instead of going to the summer place right away. But she didn't actually meet Kadin there, it was at the luncheon after. About an hour and a half after and she was in his hotel room.

For the next year or so, they kept in contact. She would not tell anyone, but Kadin was who she spent the most time with during her sabbatical; he made for some excellent company for what she was going through at the time. She still enjoyed his company when he happened to be in Departure County. Today happened to be one of those days.

“Invi!” the man greeted as she sat down across from him. The cafe they chose to meet up in was quiet this time of day, and his voice was just loud enough that it nearly brought some attention their way.

“It's lovely to see you too, Kadin.” Invi smiled. “Did you already order for us?”

“Yep.” came the chirpy agreement. “I wanted us to get down to the nitty-gritty today.”

Hearing this, Invi raised an interested eyebrow.

“Oh?” she wondered. “What has Vidia gotten into this time?”

Kadin snorted. This wasn't exactly what he meant, but he was more than willing to share details about his daughter. “I think she's entered a dragon phase. She won't shut up about them- which, honestly, is the only coherent thing you can hear her talk about.”

“She's only 22 months,” Invi remarked with a light chuckle. “How bad can it be?”

Kadin looked down at her- almost all amusement washed from his face. “Invi, I don't think you understand- she's literally 'blah, blah, blah, blah, dag-in! Blah, blah, blah, fi-roar!' And then, of course, the all important, 'Smash peoples!' before knocking over a block tower as tall as she is. It's so funny, but it's so awful!”

“Sounds like it.” Invi smirked. Kadin gave her a hard look before letting it melt into one of humor again.

“See, look,” he offered as he pulled out a folded up piece of paper and handed it to Invi. “She did that last week. Knew I had to hold on to it so you could have it.”

“Thank you.” Invi told him as she took the drawing. A small smile crossed her face as her thumb gently traced the deliberate scribbles. If she squinted, Invi could see that the main scribble -a squiggly shape drawn completely in a dark purple- had a pair of horns at the 'head', and a pointed 'tail' at the end. Invi wondered where she was going to hang it without too many people asking where she had gotten it from; even if she lied and said it was from a student, it would be more than obvious that it came from someone much younger than a 10 year old.

“When are you going to tell her?” Invi questioned with a partially worried glance. Kadin only offered a simple shrug at first.

“I'm thinking I'll leave it as a 'when she asks me' kinda deal. Which, honestly, might happen on Mother's Day in kindergarten.”

“You're not going to send her to preschool?”

This earned her a smirk from the man. “Have you forgotten that I majored in early childhood development? Shame Invi, for shame.”

Invi gave him a mischievous grin. “I thought you only said that to butter me up.”

“Even if I did,” Kadin mused with a cheeky grin of his own, “It still worked. Didn't it? You melted in the palm of my hand like it was a hundred degrees outside.”

“I melt to any man that buys me a drink and doesn't act like a total creep.” Invi snorted. “Just because you watch over Vidia, doesn't mean you're special, Kadin.”

The man let out a loud, joyful chuckle that Invi joined in on. When they finally settled down, Kadin gave Invi a small grin.

“There's another reason why I called you here, besides to gush about Vidia.” he told her. “I'm getting married in November and I wanted to invite you in person.”

For a moment, Invi's jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

Kadin nodded before handing her the wedding invitation. “I'd really like you to meet Marjorie. You two would have a lot in common.”

“What about Vidia?”

“She's going to be our flower girl!” Kadin beamed. “We had her pick out the dress itself and, let me tell you Invi, it will look so adorable on her! Assuming she doesn't grow, like, a whole foot between here and November.”

“Hopefully not.” Invi thoughtfully agreed. “I remember my mother once told me that I didn't have a major growth spurt until I was seven. The doctors assumed I would have dwarfism.”

“So glad that wasn't the case; imagine how much more terrifying you'd be if you were only four feet tall!”

The two shared another happy laughter for a few moments before settling down again. Invi turned her attention back to the drawing and gave a small smile at it. Vidia was growing so quickly. If she ever got into Daybreak, Invi could see her fitting in well with Ursus or Unicornis. But it was still too early to tell. As Invi continued to study the drawing, the more her smile started to turn into a frown. A small pang of regret hit her heart and all too suddenly she felt the need to cry.

Kadin must have noticed this because he placed a gentle hand on hers.

“Look, you don't have to come if you don't want to.” he said to her- his voice low and soft. “I know that you're afraid of seeing her again, and...”

“No.” Invi said, interrupting him. “I want to be there. It's an important day for you guys.”

Kadin raised a worried eyebrow as he removed his hand from hers. “Are you sure? I don't want you to feel forced because of her.”

“Positive.” she agreed before putting the drawing safely away in her purse. “But I do have a question; you wouldn't mind me bringing a plus five, would you?”

“Plus five?” Kadin repeated before going into a belly laugh. “Please tell me it's your fellow headmasters and their kid, and not five separate guys!”

“If it's all the same to you,” Invi mused, “I think I prefer to keep my affairs with one man from now on. Having two caused a lot more micromanaging than you'd think.”

“In what way? Who got which side of the bed on what night?”

“No.” Invi spat. “Aced could eat us out of house and home on a good day, and Ira's finer palate almost left us without one. And, of course, I could never say no to a good aged wine...”

“Along with all those designer duds and jewels and scarves you love so much...”

“Oh, shut up.” Invi playfully chuckled as she gave Kadin a light smack on the shoulder. Kadin retaliated with a bright grin.

“Alright,” Kadin laughed, “Here's the deal- you can bring as many guests as you want, (so your guests can have guests if they so please) but just let me know before the RSVP date. Catering ain't cheap, madam.”

“Kadin, did I ever mention that you are the sweetest guy I've ever had the honor of pleasuring?”

“Maybe not recently,” he smiled before leaning in close, “But I wouldn't object to a reminder.”

Invi laughed as she started to get up. She gave Kadin a less than chaste kiss on the lips before leaving the cafe. She might have to invite him over again at some point. He honestly was one of her better lovers- goosebumps blissfully ran up her arms as she remembered their last liaison. But then she remembered; Kadin was getting married. She couldn't do that to him or his future bride.

Not unless they wanted to of course.

Threesomes were considered exotic for a reason.

Invi shook her head. What was wrong with her? She gave herself a small, admonishing huff as she waited at the curb for a taxi. But it only allowed her mind time to drift from Kadin to Vidia. Almost unconsciously, she pulled out Vidia's drawing and admired the simple crayon drawing. She wondered if Kadin's wedding was placed so close to Vidia's birthday on purpose. Maybe it was easier to remember the date if they were so close together? She really should have called him out on it.

“I'm happy for him.” Invi decided out loud, putting the drawing away just as the taxi was coming up. As Invi climbed into the taxi to head back to school campus, a small thought crossed her mind that quickly made her remorseful again; Vidia was going to love having a mother, even if it wasn't her.

#daybreak academy #chapter 66 #kingdom hearts fanfiction #Invi #Kadin #Season 2

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hot-wiings · 6 years ago

Text

Tip Jar

[Edited: 12-25-19]

I don't want a lot for Christmas. There's just one thing I need. I don't care about those presents. Underneath the Christmas tree. I just want you for my own. More than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. You know that all I want for Christmas is you. I won't ask for much this Christmas. I won't even wish for snow. No, I'm just gonna keep on waiting. Underneath the mistletoe.

You smiled as you sat down next to Shouto Todoroki on the couch in the common area of class 1-A's dorm building.

"Did you put everyone's names in? Ribbit."

"Yeah."

Tsu Asui takes a bag from Ochako Uraraka and shakes it up. It was one month from Christmas and the entire class decided to do Secret Santa.

You would all randomly draw one name and exchange gifts on Christmas Eve before going home for the holidays.

You stuck your hand in the bag when it was your turn to draw. You hoped you got someone you were friends with, it would be easier to buy a gift they could enjoy.

You pull a tiny piece of pink paper out and unfold it. You look at the messy handwriting and read the name with a huge smile.

Shouto Todoroki.

You had a huge crush on Shouto. Everyone either wanted to date him because he was pretty and rich or criticize him because he was pretty and rich. To you though, he was so much more than a pretty little rich boy.

You were Shouto's friend, because of this you knew the real him. You knew what drove him to be a hero. You knew about his father, and what happened to his mother. You knew about how his sister had to help raise him, and how his oldest brother disappeared without a trace.

You folded the paper back up and shoved it in your pocket so Shouto wouldn't see you got his name.

"Who did you get Shouto?"

"I'm not sure I should tell you... It is Secret Santa after all."

You bite your lip. It kinda bugged you that he didn't trust you enough to tell you who he got. However, Shouto is a very serious and literal guy. If the game is Secret Santa then Shouto would want to keep the name he drew a secret.

"Okay. Well hey, here's a great idea. We should go Christmas shopping together."

"Together? Oh, maybe we should bring your brother."

"My brother?"

You sighed as you looked over to Izuku. You wanted to be alone with Shouto. It's not like you were trying to seduce him, you didn't think you were nearly sexy enough for that. You wanted to be alone because hopefully if you spent enough time together he would begin to like you.

There was no way he would begin to like you if you brought Izuku along. Shouto would only ever think of you as Izuku's little sister. Wasn't it some guy rule not to date your best friend's sister?

"Okay, I'll ask Izuku if he wants to tag along later."

You stand up from your spot on the couch and walk away to your dorm room where you'll begin to plot ways you can get Izuku away from your shopping trip with Shouto.

"Wait [Y/N], you forgot your bag."

It wasn't even your bag, it was Uraraka's bag. However, the fact that he was looking out for you brought a light blush to your face.

"Thanks, Shouto."

As you take the bag from him your fingertips brushed together. You didn't notice it but Shouto blushed at the contact. You didn't notice the pink hue on his face, nor did you notice how he watched you walk away with longing before turning away himself. You didn't notice how he likes you just as much as you like him.

There's no sense in hanging stocking. Thereupon the fireplace. Santa Claus he won't make me happy. With a toy on Christmas day. I just want you here tonight. Holding on to me so tight. Girl what can I do? You know that all I want for Christmas is you. And all the lights are shining. So brightly everywhere. And the sound of children's. Laughter fills the air. And everyone is singing.

You walked with your brother Izuku, his best friend Shouto, and your best friend Ochako around the mall together. You came up with the perfect plan to ditch Izuku.

Last week when you gave Ochako her bag that Shouto mistakingly gave to you it dawned on you that Izuku had a huge crush on Ochako. You would bring Ochako and she would walk off with Izuku. Izuku would follow her like a lovesick puppy leaving you two together.

"Hey, Ochako? Isn't that a sale on coats? didn't you say you needed a new coat?"

"Yeah, it is."

You pointed to a random store that was having a sale on coats and Uraraka played along going along with your plan. Truthfully, she wanted to be alone with Izuku just as much as you wanted to be alone with Shouto.

"Izuku, wanna help me pick out a coat?"

"Yes."

Shouto glared at Izuku as he walked off. The whole reason he wanted Izuku there was because you made him nervous when you were alone together. Izuku was supposed to help him not mess up in front of you.

"So, what store is first?"

"I'm not sure. Honestly, I'm not sure what to get my person."

"My person hasn't really talked about what sh- They want, but I think I have an idea."

Shouto grabs your hand as he shows you the way to a store. You blushed as he walked inside not letting go of your hand.

Your eyes skimmed the store and the price tags. 800$ for a pair of flip flops? In the middle of winter? Your mom could afford dinner for the week three times with that kind of money. You knew Shouto was rich but you never really thought about it.

Shouto brought you over to the bag section. 1500$? 20,000$? These prices were ridiculously high.

"From a female perspective what bag is best?"

"From a poor person's perspective, I think all these bags are great."

You move the bags around and look at the designs. You look at the interiors and find the one with the most pockets. It was a white satchel with gold-colored flower designs. It had gold-colored chains on each pocket and zipper. The bag also had a matching wallet that was half the price of the satchel.

As you kept looking at it the more thought the chains were real gold. At the price of 23,000.00$, it better be real gold. Your mother's house probably cost less than that.

Shouto takes the bag and it's matching wallet from you and goes to pay for it. Whoever got Shouto as their Secret Santa was very lucky.

If this was the type of store he shops at then what were you supposed to get him? You couldn't even afford half of what the flip flops cost. He was spending 34,500$ on someone whereas you had 40$ in your pocket. Ten of that was borrowed money.

The more you thought the worse the thoughts got. Why on earth did you think you could stand a chance with Shouto? You were just a less than average person and he was this good-looking millionaire god.

I can hear those sleigh bells ringing. Santa won't you bring me the one I really love. Won't you please bring my baby to me. I don't want a lot for Christmas. This is all I'm asking for. No, I just want to see my baby. Standing right outside my door. I just want you for my own. More than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. You know that all I want for Christmas. Is you. Is you.

It was the night before Christmas Eve. You were supposed to give Shouto his gift in the morning before you all left to go home for the holidays.

Your gift felt lame and poor compared to the gift he got for his person. It was lame and poor because you were lame and poor.

The tears start falling down as you feel bad for yourself. You were having a Christmas Eve's Eve pity party in class 1-A's kitchen.

Shouto would never like you, that was your reality. You came from different social places. Even if he did like you, you didn't think his father would allow it.

The door to the kitchen opens and you dry your face with the back of your hand so whoever came in won't see your tears.

You turn to see it was the very man you were crying over who walked. Shouto in his sleepwear with major bed head. He was probably the only person to make bed head sexy.

"Hey, what are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep. Why are you up?"

"I couldn't sleep either so I came to get some water."

Instead of getting water Shouto walks closer to you. He looks at your face and frowns.

"Why are you sad?"

"I'm not."

You say this as you sniffle from crying. Not very convincing was it?

"Yes, you are. I can tell when you're sad, your ears get all pink."

"It's stupid."

Shouto wipes some stray tears off of your cheeks.

"You can tell me."

"There's this guy I really like."

"Oh."

Shouto frowns in disappointment, you don't notice as your looking at the ground, avoiding his face.

"I got this guy for Secret Santa, but I'm not sure he will like the gift I got him."

"What did you get him?"

"Well, this guy keeps using my lip balm for his chapped lips, so I got forty dollars worth of lip balm."

You hoped you weren't too obvious on who you were talking about. If Shouto knew you liked him he would reject you. Quite frankly you didn't feel like crying in front of him.

Shouto smiled as he comments the dots and took a step closer to you.

"You see I have the same problem. I like this girl I got for Secret Santa. I wasn't sure what to get her, because she never asks for things. I noticed she had a bag that was looking old and ratty so I got her one."

Disappointment and sadness hit you. You knew he didn't like you, he liked the bag girl. You thought about who even had an old bag but there was one girl in class A-1 with an old bag.

"You like Uraraka? I'm pretty sure she has a thing sure Izuku."

"What? No. It's you. I like you."

"But I don't- Oh, I see."

When Shouto returned "your" bag last month, the one that was really Urarakas, he thought it was yours.

Shouto dips his head down and connects his lips to yours. His lips were rough and chapped, but they felt nice against yours.

"The bag was very thoughtful."

"Your lip balm was thoughtful as well, it is very heartfelt, but all I really want for Christmas is you."

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canid-slashclaw · 5 years ago

Text

The Outliers - A Guild Wars Love Story

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapters 10 and 11

Chapter 12

Amalthia My Love,

I can't wait to see you again! As I'm writing this letter, I've been reading up on your peoples' mating habits and learned that grooming is a female's way of signaling she is available. Had I known you were available, I would have been ready and willing to perform my duties in a heartbeat. I did the measurements and we are pretty close to the same size so I don't think "that" will be much of an issue.

Sorry if I come off as sounding lustful. It's just that I can't get that image of you out of my mind. Even my sisters are complaining that I'm spending too much time in the bathroom.

Okay. Okay. I should probably close that "sinful" book for awhile and take a cold shower. Anyway, you are always on my dirty mind...

Your not-so furry "friend",

Kaleb

Amalthia rested her chin against the palm of her hand as she let out a wistful sigh.

You poor boy... one of these days something vital is going to explode if you keep thinking about things like that.

The doorbell whistle sounded as she heard the shuffle of a very familiar set of footsteps.

Kaleb!

She quickly threw on a light overcoat then slipped into her most comfortable pair of silken breeches and finally laced up her favorite pair of open-toed boots. Like any good engineer, she brought along a few gadgets as well including a micro spanner and butane torch.

One never knows when such things will come in handy. Especially when an event is run by a bunch of cheaters and riff raff.

As she came down the stairs she saw Kaleb standing by the door holding a bouquet of freshly cut lilacs. He smiled at her then handed her the flowers along with another folded letter.

"This is just a 'thank you' gift for all that you've done for me," he smiled as he handed her the flowers.

She took the bouquet, looked over it for a moment seemingly puzzled then gave him a quick hug. "Dead flowers that will never grow and wilt within the next three days. How thoughtful of you!"

"Well, I had considered snagging some half-rotten fish that had washed up along the shoreline. But then I thought about it and said, 'nah... she would think me a cheapskate if I didn't spend an excessive amount for a bushel of dead, overpriced flowers," Kaleb chuckled.

"Seriously, they're lovely. Flowers are used as tokens of affection in our culture as well. They are pretty universal, I guess." Amalthia took the bundle, dunked them in a decorative metal cylinder then filled it up with water from the faucet behind the meat counter.

"Where's your father? He's always been by the counter to greet me whenever I come here." Kaleb looked around and neither saw nor heard any trace of him.

Amalthia waved for him to come up the stairs. "He's sleeping at the moment. I'll explain more once we have a little more privacy."

Kaleb pursed his lips and nodded as he followed her up. Once they were both in her room, she closed the door then walked over towards the workbench and handed him the two pistols she had modified.

"I cut the handles down considerably. The center of gravity shifted so I added some extra weights to compensate," she said as she watched Kaleb getting a feel for the newly modified weapons.

"Wow! The balance on these is to a tee. I can't wait to fire them. Hey! Are you still up for the carnival?"

"What a silly question. Just let me grab my coin bag and broadsword then we can both be on our way." She smiled as she strapped the heavy sword to her belt buckle.

"Don't worry about the coinage. That's on me. Father and I made quite a bit this past week from one of our clients, so we are all good in that department."

The two of them headed out from the upstairs loft exit then headed down towards the center of the town square. Amalthia's braided golden mane fluttered in the breeze, her brass ankle circlets jingling in rhythmic steps to the tempo of a minstrel band far off in the distance.

"So what's up with your father? It's odd not seeing him there to greet me when I come in," Kaleb said with concern.

Amalthia shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not really sure. Shortly after you left, he seemed really down about something. When I opened the cooler this morning, a whole cask of mead had been consumed. We just bought the thing the day before yesterday and it's already gone."

"Oh no. Maybe it was all the war memories that were dredged up following what happened yesterday."

"I don't believe it's that, quite honestly. There is something else afoot." Amalthia pondered.

"Yanno. I wish we could at least hold hands. I hate not being able to show any open displays of affection towards you."

She gave him a reassuring look. "Kaleb. Don't go there. Remember what we talked about. Let's enjoy the carnival, as friends."

Yeah. "Friends", he thought as he turned away with a disappointed expression.

The carnival atmosphere was thick with a crescendo of noise and the aroma of cheap foods. As the pair perused the various entertainment booths, Kaleb happened to spot a shooting gallery nestled in between two eateries. He tugged her shirtsleeve then pointed towards the booth while giving a thumb's up gesture.

"Wanna try?"

"Kaleb. Those things are rigged!" She protested.

Pointing towards her pocket, he winked at her. "So rig it in our favor."

She placed her clawed index finger next to her upper lip as she thought about it for a moment. Upon seeing the array of prizes that were available, she suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

"Okay! I just give me a few," she loped briefly on all fours then stopped by the booth, stood up and scanned the targets that were arranged in the shooting gallery.

The carnival attendant stood half slouching looking as if he had smoked one too many bundles of prairie weed. Amalthia began counting her footsteps as she started walking from the back of the pavilion to the front.

"Ten and a half yards. Remember that number, mouse."

"Uhh. What?" The dreary-eyed kid said with a half-attentive look on his face.

"I wasn't talking to you, mouse. Kaleb. You got that?"

"I do," he smiled, deducing what she had in mind.

"Pink quaggen plushie, please."

"Umm. You gotta hit the targets first uhhh... sir? Miss?"

"Don't worry... won't."

"Uhhh. What?"

"Miss."

"Amalthia - shame on you for confusing this poor creature. Can't you see he is bereft of his intoxicant?" Kaleb said mockingly.

"Coin first, kitty cat. Then you can play," the irritated tenant grumbled.

"Gun, please. Thank you," Amalthia said as she tossed three pieces of silver into a bucket then snatched the popgun and percussion caps from off the table.

She loaded the first shot, aimed at the nearest target then fired. The shot missed.

"Point zero five degrees deviation at four point eight yards," Amalthia said as she laid the popgun back onto the table.

"Paper, please," she asked the tenant.

"Why do you need paper?"

"To wipe myself with, what else!"

Kaleb was barely able to contain his laughter.

"Are all charr this rude?" Grumbled the tenant as he filched out a scrap of parchment the tossed it to her.

"Do all humans swindle their customers this badly?" She said as she unrolled the crumpled mass then pulled out a stylus and began working out some calculations.

"Hey sir, missy... whatever you are. I'm an honest man. I've never cheated a customer in my..."

But before he could finish his words, Amalthia raised the popgun then fired an aim-corrected shot. The target fell back with a thud. Then in quick successive rounds, she felled five more targets.

"Quaggan plush, please. The pink one," she said with a wide smirk on her face.

Amalthia shoved the oversized plush toy into Kaleb's arms. "It matches your shirt quite well."

He just smiled trying to get a firm grasp while leaning over so he could see where he was walking. "I almost felt bad for that kid."

"I don't. He was trying to rip us off."

"Key word is 'almost'. Hey! Now there's something I might be good at," Kaleb said as he pointed towards a banner that read, Dolyak Shoeing Contest.

The master of ceremonies announced for men and women of all ages to compete against the so-called world's fastest farrier. Standing next to a blacksmithing smelter, stood a massive norn who looked to be at least eight feet tall. The MC boldly stated that there was no one on the face of Tyria who could shoe a dolyak faster than Halig the Great.

"He's almost as big as Ulfgar. But I bet with the right tools, I can beat 'em," Kaleb said as he pointed towards Amalthia's pocket.

"Your torch. It burns much hotter than that smelter and that will allow me to reshape the shoes much faster."

Smiling with glee upon Kaleb's clever inspiration, Amalthia handed him the torch. "I know you can beat him."

"Who amongst you has the courage, the will and the speed to challenge the mighty Halig?" The MC announced as he pointed at the audience.

Several brawny men, a char and two Asura, raised their hands. As they were ushered towards a large smelting pit, the enormous norn shook his head and laughed as his braided locks of hair flailed about.

At the last moment, Kaleb stepped through the crowd as he shoved his way towards the rest of the contestants. The top hatted MC looked at him for a moment before continuing his monologue.

"All of you grab your hammers and tongs and find the nearest available anvil that is located by each respective dolyak. At the count of five, the contest will commence. The first one to successfully forge four shoes from their respective strips of scrap iron, and can successfully place them upon the hooves of their respective beast shall be declared the winner."

"Are there any questions? If not then good luck ladies and gentlemen!" The master of ceremonies queried as he raised his hand to begin the count. Kaleb activated his torch.

When the countdown ended, every one of the contestants' hammers began pealing away as they frantically raced against each other to be the first to shoe their dolyak. For his part, Kaleb deftly began forging the strips into clean horseshoe-shaped forms as he took advantage of the blowtorch's higher output temperature.

Amalthia cheered wildly along with the rest of the crowd hoping that her man would win the contest. She saw how the sweat that covered his body helped to accentuate the definition of his rippling muscles. A lifetime of heavy lifting and athletic prowess had sculpted his body in ways that made her swoon with desire. She imagined resting her head against his firm chest and hearing the rhythmic beating of his strong heart. Her mind raced with fantasies of what it would be like to have him inside of her.

I want that more than you can imagine, she mused quietly as she gazed upon the human she loved.

By this time the norn had already placed three shoes on his dolyak. Kaleb was running a close second, but was still behind by one shoe. Thinking back to one of the techniques his father had taught him, he realized that it was possible to molten glue the shoe onto the dolyak instead. His dad mentioned that this was a common practice when nails were in short supply. The trick was softening the shoe up enough so the weight of the animal could cause the semi-soft metal to flay out. As it did, the ferrier had to work quickly to crimp the soft edges around the edge of the hooves.

This blowtorch is perfect, he thought as he began to soften the shoe with the orange flame. Remembering the dangers of looking directly into a blue flame, Kaleb pulled out a pair of welding goggles that Amalthia had given him. Once fitted, he switched over to the hotter blue flame as he proceeded to make the metal soft and pliable.

Halig was about to hammer in his final shoe. If Kaleb was to overtake the norn, he had to act fast. Grabbing the red-hot shoe with his tongs, Kaleb raced toward the dolyak, raised its foot using his free hand then quickly placed the molten item upon the base of the hoof. Using a combination of tongs and torch, he managed to crimp on the third shoe.

The massive norn was now only two nails away from finishing the contest. Undeterred and focused, Kaleb raced to heat up the last shoe to repeat the process once more.

Everything was down to the wire and Halig was about to drive the last nail home. But as he brought the hammer down for one final blow, the MC shouted to the top of his lungs.

"Time! We have a new winner."

The norn looked dumbfounded upon seeing the young human who had just beaten him.

"What is your name young man?"

"Grimwald, sir. Kaleb Grimwald."

"Well, ladies and gentlemen. It looks like this handsome young man has upended our current champion. The cash prize of fifty gold goes to the new winner."

"That is bullocks! He cheated! I could have easily won if that boy didn’t use that darn torch," Halig roared as he flung his hammer down in disappointment.

Kaleb spoke up. "Mighty Halig. I respect your sportsmanship in not taking a cheap shortcut in order to win the contest. Your technique was good, but mine was faster."

Several charr, except for Amalthia, bellowed in rage claiming the human had cheated as well. The humans disagreed and soon, a massive shouting match began to erupt amongst the crowd as tempers began to flare.

In an attempt to calm the raging carnival goers, Kaleb gave a very brief history lesson to everyone. "The kursikan molten fold technique has been used throughout Tyria since the Krytan civil war. Not many even use it any more, but my family has always passed it down from father to son. The Grimwalds, my family, are one of the few families in Kryta that still knows this ancient technique. Let's all just have a good time."

Within a short span, the anger began to subside. Many of the attendees who were familiar with the ancient technique came to realize that it was, in fact a bona fide farrier art.

Halig the Great conceded the title without further protest then went over to the young man who had beaten him and gave him a hearty handshake. Kaleb returned the favor by offering to buy his vanquished opponent a tall stein of mead. Never being one to turn down a strong drink, the norn gladly accepted the offer.

As their day at the carnival began to draw to a close, Kaleb and Amalthia had amassed a rather large cache of prizes. By the time they departed, Amalthia had garnered three giant stuffed quaggans and several various small stuffed animals. Kaleb, for his part, gained two quaggans plus the title of being the fastest dolyak farrier in Kryta.

"Blue, green and black - all mine!" Amalthia grinned as she stuck her tongue out at Kaleb.

"I'll trade ya the pink one for the black one." He said as he tried carrying the two monstrous plushies on either side of his hips.

"But the pink one compliments the color of your eyes and outfit so well," She said with a laugh.

"My skin tone begs to differ. Besides, I'll never hear the end of it from Rachel if she sees me bringing home a giant pink quaggan."

"Yer just bein' greedy!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Do you still have my torch?"

"I put it in your pocket, remember?"

Amalthia felt her pockets for a moment then confirmed that the device was still present.

"You forgot to close the valve. Didn't you? Now the butane is all gone."

"I thought it contained ahceedaa... how do you pronounce it again?"

"That's only used for my workstation torch, dummy! And it's pronounced A-ce-tyl-ene."

"Fine, fine. I don't care so long as it wins me titles and gold. You want the red quaggan?"

"No. They are evil." She pleasantly scolded him as they both laughed.

Dusk had approached as the pair arrived back at the butcher shop before sunset. Amalthia looked up at the stairs leading to her loft then decided that it would be better to simply go through the main door instead. "We'll definitely have to do this again. Are you sure you don't want to trade?" Kaleb asked as Amalthia led the way through the front door.

Turning quickly around, she said to Kaleb. "On second thought, I'll take the red one."

"But you said that's the evil one."

"I know," she said as she swung her head forward, "and, oh... hi mother."

Kaleb froze in his tracks.

Mother?

Standing in front of the counter with her arms folded, stood a charr with cold green eyes and a vicious looking upturned scowl the likes of which sent chills through the young man's veins.

"Oh... hi... ms.. Blastforge..." Kaleb said in an uncharacteristically nervous tone. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

"Fuze - Blast...fuse," came her deadpan reply as she gave the young man a cold, piercing stare.

"Kaleb. I think now might be a good time for you to leave."

He was about to say something in a barely audible whisper when Amalthia interrupted him.

"Have a good evening!" She said as she made a grimacing face hoping that Kaleb would understand that she would talk to him during a better and safer time. She handed him the green giant stuffed quaggan. He nodded in acknowledgment then gave her a reassuring wink before heading out.

Once the door was shut, Amalthia turned around and took in a very deep breath hoping it would calm her for what she was about to endure.

"So this is what the dear little runt does in her spare time... squandering her combat skills collecting cuddle toys and hanging with humans. Did you finally complete your little menagerie fluffy bunnies and koda bears?" Her mother said in her characteristic, derogatory manner.

"Oh yes mother. I saved the red one just for you. It has a face like a hylek. When I saw it, I just had to trade it out as its face reminded me so much of yours," Amalthia retorted with a mocking smile.

"Then give it here, child. I would certainly love to cuddle with it."

Her daughter flung the stuffed animal towards her mother with all her might. As soon as Siri caught the toy she promptly tore its head off then flung the pillowy remains across the floor.

"Well, perhaps an undead hylek will do that to your lovely face one day!" Amalthia snapped as she tried her best to contain her rage.

"I was merely expressing how I felt about you child. Try not to take it so personally. Anyway, if you are through with that forked tongue of yours I have some news you should be happy to hear."

Moments later, Ludrick ambled past the meat counter doors as he tried to steady his balance.

"Your mother does have something very important to say, Amalthia. Please listen," he said in a very somber tone.

"So you finally decided to get off your drunk, sorry tail and listen to the good news I bring forth? Good! Now maybe this little lush-of-a dingbat will take heed and try to amount to something for once," Siri spat in disgust as her pupils dilated.

"I would knock your teeth out right now, woman, if I were able. Just say your peace and get the hell out of my house!" Ludrick said in a hoarse voice while trying to hold his head up.

"Fine, fine. Both of you will think I am the best parent in the world when I say that I've finally found a warband that is willing to accept this loser-of-a-cub of mine as one of their own."

For the first time in a while, Amalthia was left speechless.

"Don't try so hard, cub, to contain your excitement. You have no idea the strings I had to pull in convincing one of the warbands into accepting your sorry tail into their ranks. With all that I've done, I would at least expect a big, wet slobbery kiss, dear cub."

"How about a hug instead?" Amalthia countered.

"Try it and I'll claw your damn eyes out."

"Oh good. Then at least I won't have to look at that hylek face of yours anymore."

"I'm sorry, Amalthia. But we think its what's best for you," Ludrick stated glumly.

"So now you're on her side too, sire?"

"I'm sorry, cub. But there is an inescapable reality that you have been bereft of being with your own kind. As much as I appreciate all that your friend has done, I think you need to broaden your horizons. I can't give that to you if you stay here."

Amalthia looked at her father visibly hurt as she tried her best to maintain her composure. "So this is what it has been about the entire time? Kaleb. It bothers you that we are hanging out together."

"Stop it! Even the mere idea is making me nauseous. Mice are to be eaten and slaughtered, not fondled over and befriended. Cub, I'm offering you one last chance, from the bottom of my generous heart, for you to redeem yourself from your current pathetic existence. There are more important things in this world than going to carnivals, getting sloshed and cavorting with hairless rats."

"That 'rat' was responsible for saving my life!"

"So the human saved you. That's what soldiers are supposed to do. Good little mouse... here's some cheese," Siri said dismissively.

The rage built inside Amalthia until she could contain it no more.

"I've had it with you, mother!" With those words she drew her shortsword then charged headlong towards her mother. As she swung her blade downward, an enormous sword parried her attack. Standing at the other end, stood her father. With the wave of his massive hand he calmly gestured for her to stand down then gently clasped hold of her weapon as she fell to the floor weeping.

Siri stood and laughed. "I honestly didn't think you could still swing one of those old man. Impressive! Hate me even more, cub, because that's what will eventually turn you into a good soldier."

"Stand down, Amalthia. She is just trying to mess with your head," Ludrick said as he withdrew his massive sword back into its scabbard.

"You have no clue ex mate-of-mine. The fun is only starting. Cub - three days from tomorrow, report to Iron Legion headquarters in the Black Citadel. Be there at zero eight hundred sharp or face a firing squad for desertion of duty. I don't care what happens to you so long as your actions do not reflect badly on the legions, or myself."

Ludrick tried his best to muster a bellowing tone. "You've poisoned this house with your tongue long enough. Just leave and never come back!"

Siri just shrugged her shoulders, walked toward the front door then turned around to hurl a few more barbs before leaving. "Suits me fine. This cub may be a sniveling pathetic wretch who is bawling on daddy's floor now, but given a few months of tough love with some real warriors, she will be more of a charr than you ever were. Until then, try not to let yourself suffocate in your own piss and vomit."

When her mother left, Amalthia just laid on the floor curled up in a ball as crystal drops flowed freely from her eyes. Her father sank down next to her, buried his head between his hands and unleashed a stream of salt water from his own eyes as well.

(Chapter 12 is also up on Google Docs.)

#gw2 fanfic #the outliers #kaleb and amalthia #human and charr #interspecieslove #tyriaslibrary

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wwhatisstutorials · 6 years ago

Photo

Glimmer She-Ra Season 2 Episode: Roll with it TUTORIAL

Pattern and Sewing below

Hello friends!! I know its been so long since I’ve made a tutorial but- it is summer now and I decided to try out doing another tutorial but adding gifs and more pics. I now have a lot more knowledge of sewing and patterning from school so hopefully I can teach you some things too. Okay lets get right to it!

Note: I am putting my own flare on the sleeve. Instead of having the light pink diamond on the sleeve, I’m making it a cut out instead. You don’t have to do this as it is very complicated to sew and it’s not cannon! I am also adding a collar to the top for some flare.

If you have any questions, please dm me on instagram as I don’t check my tumblr inbox very often! @wwhatiss

Materials

· Pink Fabric of your choosing (make sure it is jacket appropriate. You can also use a different fabric for the lining, but I am using the same fabric for both that and the shell.) I used Stretch Crepe Satin for mine that was $7/yd. I got 3 yards. And I had just Enough. Keep in mind I am also 5’10” and built like an amazon woman so you might not need as much or you may need more.

· Matching Thread

· Large sheets of paper to figure out the pattern (a pad of newsprint works great)

· Ruler/measuring tape

· Scissors

· Sewing Machine

· Hand Sewing Needle

Pattern Making

1.Front pattern

For starters with this, I took a jacket that already fits well and got the measurements of the pattern piece straight from that. Just traced right over it. Work Smarter Not Harder!! I started with the front pattern.

-Now that you have the base pattern of the front of the jacket, you can start altering it. First, I put on the jacket and looked to see where I wanted the hem to end and put a pin to mark it. Glimmer’s jacket ends a little higher than the hips. Then just keep shaping it to where it needs to be. This particular garment has a little flap off the hem at the top so you’re going to have to extend the top a bit like I have shown. I taped an extra piece of paper to the original and drew where I wanted it extended.

You can also see that I drew the line where there is going to be a seam for detail. Once you have a front piece that you like, cut it out. You can either wait to cut where the decorative seam is going to be or you can cut it now and just tape it together to get your final lining piece.

2.The Back

So you want to start off the same way you did the front and trace the back of the jacket. I only traced half of the back and just wrote on it to cut on the fold. It is very very important that you take your front pattern piece and match it up with the back. Make sure the side seams are the same length as well as the shoulder seams. Trim and extend where needed. You also want to align where the divided seam is located. Measure that from the bottom up because the back will always be different at the top. Below are all of my working patterns.

3.Making final patterns

Before we get to the sleeve pattern, you want to add Seam Allowance (SA) to the edges. I always add ½” SA to everything except the neckline at ¼”.

In the picture I have provided, I used both of the front pieces together to make the final lining pattern, but you will also need to do this with the separate pieces.

4. The Sleeve

Alrighty, so there is a lot going on with the sleeve. I will show how I am making this sleeve with the cut out. You do not have to cut out the diamond at all, but you will still need the middle seam because of the pleats.

The same thing as the front and back, we are going to get our information from the reference jacket. Lay it out so that the sleeve is completely flat. The bodice of the jacket will probably need to get bunched to do this. Now you should see a curve in this if done correctly. Get the shape and size of this as well as the length that you want the full arm. Now we will be adding a 1.5” cuff onto the end of this so please keep that in mind. Trace this onto a folded sheet of paper so that you can then make the full sleeve.

You’ll notice that I have measurements on either side of my pattern. That’s relevant to the sizes of the arm holes of both the front and back bodices. You will want to measure those and adjust the curve to match the measurements. I know it’s a lot but I also know you can do it!!

Once you have that adjusted, If you are doing the arm cut out, you will need to cut out the diamond if you decide to go that route.

Mark where you want it on your jacket and then transfer the measurements. I didn’t want it too big, but also, I didn’t want it too small either. Go with your best judgement! Make sure it is even on both sides and cut down the middle of the sleeve as you will need a seam here whether you are doing the cut out or the applique. Cut the diamond out as well.

So now that you have your two base pieces for the sleeve, the outer part of the undersleeve is going to need to be extended for the pleats. This is a very chaotic process so just take your time.

First, grab a piece of paper and figure out what size accordion style pleat you like the most. This is how I measured and folded it out. Also keep in mind that you will want the pleats facing down.

Alrighty! So do not look at the +6 on my image because I realized later that it was wrong! I’m here to make the mistakes you don’t have to haha. Okay so to figure out how much to add to the sleeve, unfold the paper pleats and measure what you have. Then, subtract that by the length of the pleats that was added. This is the length you will add to the sleeve.

Now, you are going to want the end of the sleeve to still be the same width as the end of the lining piece. From the bottom seam of the arm hole, drop a new line connecting to the extension. Mark the folds as I did with horizontal lines. (When cutting from fabric just make little tick marks within your given ½” seam allowance).

Add your SA of ½” all the way around for your final pattern. You should have a front sleeve final pattern, a back sleeve final lining pattern, and a back sleeve top pattern (the lining will not need to be pleated).

5. The waist band

Alrighty, pull out the original working pattern of the front and back bodice. Measure the bottom x2 and the back x2 to get the full length around the bottom of the jacket. I attached my exact measurements for how I did the little arrow at the bottom. This is added to the hem length that you just got since it sticks out.

6. Cuff

I decided to add a cuff to this jacket just to finish off the sleeve. I thought It would look nicer. To get the measurement of this, measure the circumference of the end for the length and for the width do which ever you would prefer. I originally measured it for a 1 ¼” extension which you need to multiply by two since its folded over. You may want it to be the same width of the pleats to allow it to flow more. Adjust as you’d like!

7. Added Collar

Okay so I know the show does not depict a collar on this jacket, but I honestly did not like the way the neckline looked without it. I decided to put this on at the end, but it would probably be easiest to sandwich it in between the inner and outer layer of the jacket. I measured from where the jacket folds back in the front, around to the other side where it folds to get my measurement. I went for a 1 ½” extension and then rounded the ends to be like a mandarin collar.

Sewing the Garment

1.The Bodice

Okay for the outer layer you have the panels with the seam going through them. Go ahead and sew those so that they then match the lining panels. Be sure to iron the seams!

Sew the side seams and shoulder seams of both the outer layer and the lining separately.

Then match up the two pieces so that you can put the layers together. The right sides are together and the wrong sides should be the only things visible. Sew the front panels all the way around the neck to the other side.

When it gets turned right side out it will look like the picture below. This can be fixed by adding top stitching around where you sewed. I also top stitched the front seams as well as the shoulder seams.

2. The Sleeves: Part 1

The sleeves themselves and attaching the sleeves are very difficult. I managed to have to re-do them 3 times. I am just glad that my fabric is very forgiving when it comes to mistakes.

I hope you still have the paper that you used to measure out the length of the pleats because it will make the next steps so much easier. With the markings on the fabric for measurements, fold out the pleats the same as you did the paper. The inside back piece should now be equal to the length of the folded piece.

You are going to want to stitch down the side to keep the pleats in place. My sleeve happens to have 4 pleats in this image instead of three because I measured out my sleeve wrong. If you followed the tutorial, it will be right. I later adjusted when I was putting the cuff on.

3. The Sleeves: Part 2

Alright If you do the cut out then you have to do this step. Put the wrong sides together of the front outer and front lining piece. Sew just the cut out at ½” SA. When you are done stitching it, snip at the corner until right up against the stitching.

Do the same for the back lining and the back-outer piece. Flip it out so it looks clean and iron.

Next we will be putting together the two pieces above. I have both a gif and image on how it will look. The top middle seam will be sewn together as well as the bottom middle seam.

I then added top stitching to my sleeve as well. Try to make the top stitching the same through out the whole piece unless it’s a designer choice.

Next to get the whole thing together and still have it be clean on the inside we have to sew each layer separately for the underside seam. Just match up the sides of the outer layer and the sides of the inner layer. Refer to the image and the gif below.

While it is in this state, I highly recommend you iron open the seams so that it lays nicely on the inside.

Okay, then you have to turn it right side in. to do that, put your arm through the opening with the pleats. Hold onto the end closest to your hand and use your other arm to pull it back over the sleeve until its completely turned right side in. Gif for Reference.

BAM! SLEEVES.

4. The Sleeves: Part 3

Okay so there are a few things going on when attaching the sleeve. A) You don’t want to have an unfinished edge in your jacket so I did a french seam. Here is a good video reference to how to do that. And instead of each at ½ SA, you will do ¼ both ways https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYa86gQbN6c

B) We are working with a Set in Sleeve so there are a few steps to that. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9E1_NcRrDB8

Here is another good video reference for further help. For this project you will want to use the first suggestion used.

You have to ease the arm whole which means along the top of the sleeve you will baste it and then when you are connecting the sleeve to the bodice you can pull the stitching tighter to bunch the fabric to fit. BE CAREFUL AS YOU DO NOT WANT FOLDS AT ALL. Don’t worry, It will work. Another tip is to try to get as much fullness in at the top by the shoulder seam rather than the sides because it lays nicer and gives some extra space.

Now we gotta combine these two things. I HIGHLY HIGHLY HIGHLY suggest testing this out first before using the actual sleeves. The number of times that I had to seam rip the whole thing apart will haunt me. I do tests all the time and it usually saves me the headache later, but I decided that I would be fine and went for it. A mistAKE. Your fabric may not be as forgiving as mine either. It doesn’t have to be a whole sleeve either. Just practicing being able to ease the arm hole while also french seaming serves the purpose!

The image below is pinned to do the second run of the French Seam.

Bam. Progress pic

5. The Cuffs

For the cuffs, I apologize but at the end here I neglected to take photos. In a lot of ways though putting some videos on here will probably help you much more.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g0V1jpvxC0c

The picture below shows the inside of the cuffs and the arrows show where I hand sewed the inside together so that the outside looked clean. Add the topstitch then as well.

6. The Bottom Arrow Addition

Sorry its not directly on the jacket. I made a sample to make up for it. It would be very hard to understand otherwise.

Now when you go to attach the bottom be sure to off set it by a half inch. You are going to “pillow case” it later. The part of the jacket that is going to be seen from the outside should have the clean machine stitching.

This is where the pillow casing comes in. since you offset it by a half inch you can do the usual half inch seam with the good sides facing each other. The image above is what the bottom end of your jacket should look like currently.

Okay now the most chaotic thing to do now is what we call burritoing to get a good clean finish on the ends. You are going to fold the jacket inside the addition to where you end up in 3 being able to machine stitch it at half inch SA. You will not get the whole jacket done this way, only a few inches but it does look nice. The rest of the middle will have to be hand stitched but it’s worth it. I promise.

This is what the finished end looks like.

Below is a perspective of the inside before it gets hand sewn

Do the same with the Arrow end but it is just a bit more complicated

You can see above where I hand stitched the inside before I top stitched it.

7. The Collar

Alrighty. Admittedly I hated the way my neckline turned out. I decided to add a little mandarin collar around the top to cover it up. It was a very good decision in my opinion. I’ll show how I did it but IF YOU DECIDE YOU WANT THE COLLAR FROM THE BEGINNING THEN SANDWHICH IT BETWEEN THE LINING AND OUTTER LAYER.

You will need to fuse the collar pieces if you want them stable to stand up. Cut out 2 pieces, one of them being mirrored.

When I added the collar on top, I sewed the basic collar, leaving about a half inch along the bottom unsewn on the sides. Much like the cuffs and bottom of this jacket, you want to sew the whole outward facing layer with the machine and then unfortunately, it may be best to hand stitch the inside collar to the rest of the jacket. I then added Top Stitch.

8. The Buttons

I used my Singer sewing machine function for my button holes. Since I did that, I first laid out the buttons to where they were even and marked with pins where the middle of the button was and where the top and bottom ended so I knew where to turn my machine.

Congratulations if you made it though this tutorial. I know it was a LOT but the ending product is pretty rad.

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bobasheebaby · 6 years ago

Text

On the Tree Tops- When Fairytales Break chapter 3

Pairing: Liam x MC; Bastien x MC

Word count: 2,562

Warnings: angst, hospital setting, past cheating

Summary: Bastien’s POV we’ve seen Everly’s now we see Bastien’s. Memories and health issues.

A/N: I blame my muse and PB. My first thought when I saw the cover for TRR4 was “what if the baby comes out looking like Bastien?” My muse took this to a kinda dark place. A huge thank you to @stopforamoment who helped me figure out how to make what I wanted happen and figure out the rest of the series including how to finish this chapter.

Series warnings: dark, depression, feeling of being trapped, past cheating, cheating, may go NSFW. By asking to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age and can handle the content.

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from my taglist.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, I’m borrowing them.

So, do it. Decide.

Is this the life you want to live?

Is this the person you want to love?

Is this the best you can be?

Can you be stronger?

Kinder? More Compassionate?

Decide.

Breathe in.

Breathe out and decide.

— Meredith Grey

Bastien sat in his chair, his favorite spot to read or relax, only this time it was anything but relaxing. He held a tumbler of Scotch, his eyes trained ahead as he became lost in thought. He knew he shouldn’t have gone to check on her, it would only add to the pain of being kept apart. Except he needed to ensure she was alright, he had become increasingly worried as he noticed her leave her quarters less and less in the months since she became Liam’s wife, became Queen.

Bastien’s heart had broken when he’d seen her in the royal quarters. The day Liam said he’d be leaving Bastien to care for her he knew she was in trouble. She looked so sad, broken, her eyes were haunted, she was but a shell of who she was. If I had listened to her, run away with her she wouldn’t be this broken. He took a sip of his drink, relishing in the burn down his throat, if only it could burn away his pain. He didn’t understand how Liam could be so blind to the significant change in Everly. She’s right, he’s never seen the real her to know the difference.

Bastien rested his glass down on the table to his left. His right hand reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, still wrinkled from where her hands gripped the fabric, clinging to him. He pulled out a folded piece of paper. He carefully unfolded it, gently smoothing it out against his thigh. The paper was fading well before it’s time from the frequent folding and unfolding it was treated to. His stormy grey eyes filled with tears as he gazed at the picture, his fingers gingerly tracing the lines of her face. Oh Evie, I can’t protect you when I already failed you.

Bastien allowed himself to be transported back in time. Back to when he would see a smile gracing her beautiful face every day. Back when there was hope for them. Back when they were both happy. He could see the woman in the picture clear as day as if it had happened just days before instead of months prior.

He’d taken her to the lake that most of the inhabitants of the palace, royalty and workers alike, weren’t aware existed. As head of the royal guard he knew the grounds and every secret they held. Everly stood with her face tilted up towards the sun, her hands holding her hair up, a few stray strands floating into her face. She looked so hauntingly angelic he couldn’t resist taking a picture of her.

“I’d say take a picture it will last longer, but you already did.” She teased turning to look at him after the distinctive click of the shutter was heard.

Bastien smiled stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “I can’t help that you’re so gorgeous that I can’t stop staring.” He slipped his arms around her waist.

Everly smiled up at him, her grass green eyes sparkling brightly as if they contained a million stars. “Does that mean I get a free pass at staring at you?” She ran her hands up his chest, slipping her arms his neck. She tangled her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck as she pulled him down for a kiss.

Bastien broke the kiss smiling. He’d never felt happier than when he was with her. “You can look at me whenever you want Evie.”

“Good, I was going to anyways.”

Bastien chuckled. God he loved her. He couldn’t wait until the season was over and he could be with her in the open.

Bastien was broken from his memory by frantic banging on his door. He jumped up, photograph floating to the ground, forgotten as he quickly crossed the room throwing open the door. “You don’t need to keep banging—” He broke off when he saw Everly bent over, clutching her stomach with tears in her eyes.

“Bas, I’m scared. Something’s wrong.” Everly cried, panic written on her face.

“It’ll be okay Evie. I’ve got you.” He said scooping her up into his arms. He radioed to have a SUV waiting as he raced through the halls. This can’t be happening, not to her. His heart pounded in his chest but he couldn’t allow panic to overtake him. She needed him to be strong in that moment. “We need to get to the hospital NOW!” He shouted as he approached the awaiting vehicle. He slid her in the back seat sliding in next to her, the driver taking off as soon as the door slammed shut.

Everly clung to his arm as he removed his phone from his pocket dialing Liam. The line kept trilling until it finally switched over to voicemail. Bastien looked down at her as he listened, waiting for the beep. Her jaw was clenched as she gritted her teeth, one hand still clutching her stomach, the other gripping his forearm. Finally he heard the beep. “Your majesty, sir, it’s Queen Everly, she’s having stomach pains and I’m taking her to the hospital—”

“Ahhh.” Everly cried out in pain. “Bas I’m scared!” Her grip on his arm tightening.

Bastien dropped the phone just as he heard the message telling him how to re-record, his arms encircling her in a careful hug. “I know. I’ve got you. We’ll be there soon. Everything will be okay.” It has to be. She can’t take another thing going wrong. The scent of strawberries filled his senses as he kissed her crown. What are you doing, she’s not yours!

Everly looked up at him with hollow tear filled eyes. “Is Liam coming?”

“I don’t know Evie, but I’m here.”

“That’s cause your my white knight, always there for me when I need you.” Her face fell, remembering he wasn’t hers, not anymore, maybe not ever.

They pulled up in front of the hospital, Bastien jumped out lifting Everly gingerly. He walked to the awaiting doctors, gently placing her on the gurney. Thank god someone called ahead. Normally that would have been his job but he was too focused on keeping Everly safe and calm. His mind raced as his feet blindly followed her to a private room. He gave her a rueful smile as they whisked her inside and he stood guard outside. It wasn’t his place to be inside, his place was here, keeping a watchful eye out for her. He straightened his suit jacket smoothing out the wrinkles the best he could. He stood, his back straight, hands clasped behind his back, blank expression on his face. Inside his mind and heart were racing. He hated leaving her in there terrified and alone, but it wasn’t his place to lend her comfort.

***

A nurse walked out the room approaching him instead of walking past like the dozen times since Everly entered the room. “Sir, the queen requested to speak to you.”

“Of course, thank you.” Bastien replied. He entered the room, surprised by how small she looked laying in the bed. She was hooked up to an IV and had a strap running across the swell of her abdomen. He gave the machines a cursory glance as he moved further into the room.

Everly smiled as she saw him. “Bas. Have you gotten ahold of Liam yet?”

“Not yet.” Bastien watched as the sadness returned to her face. “Do they know anything yet?”

“Well they know I’m not in labor, so that’s good.” She pointed to the the strap across her belly. “This is keeping an eye on the heart rate.”

“I’ll try to contact Liam again and let him know he’ll be relieved to hear that.”

“Don’t lie to me Bas. Please. We both know he should have answered by now. Or at least checked in, but he hasn’t.”

“I’m sorry Evie.”

Everly looked up at him with solemn eyes. “It is what it is.” She trained her eyes down as she fiddled with the edge of the stark white sheet. “I know you want to ask so just ask.”

Bastien looked at her, instantly knowing what she meant. “Evie, is it mine?”

Everly looked up at him, her lip quivering. “I honestly don’t know. I mean maybe. Probably.” She looked out the window. “I told him I was tired after, and we…”

“And we made love all night.”

Everly nodded sadly. “I don’t know what to do Bas. On one hand I want it to be yours, but then…”

“Then Liam finds out.”

“Yea. I’m half hoping she’ll come out looking like one of you so I don’t have to figure out how to do a paternity test without him finding out. But then I don’t want to wait.”

“She?”

Everly smiled. “She. The doctor told me when they checked her out via ultrasound. We were supposed to find out later this week, but then he went on the trip.” Her smile faltered. I’m all alone in this. “They gave me a picture. It’s on the tray there.”

Shit! He could have a child, a daughter. As much as he wanted a family with her, he worried what would happen if Liam found out about their relationship. It ended before they married, but it should have ended the moment she became the queen to be. He picked up the ultrasound, smiling softly at the image. He wasn’t sure if he wished she was his or Liam’s more. He wanted her to be his, but he needed Evie to stay safe. He was beginning to regret not running away with her more and more.

“I picked a name.”

Bastien looked up from the ultrasound setting in back on the tray. “Tell me.”

“Alouette.” Everly replied rubbing her bump. “Perfect name for a little bird don’t you think?”

“It’s beautiful. It’s French for lark.” Bastien laid his hand on hers. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” He said pulling his hand away.

Everly’s smile fell. “It’s fine Bas. I want you too.” She grabbed his hand, placing in on her stomach. “Here.”

Bastien’s stormy grey eyes went wide as he felt a little thump against the palm of his hand. Is she mine? “Was that a kick?” His eyes trained intently on her growing bump. He felt oddly connected to baby growing in her. She has to be Liam’s.

“Yea. I think she likes you.” Everly said smile meeting her eyes for the first time in months. Bastien knew what she was thinking but wouldn’t say, I think she knows who you are. “Bas, I know what I said but I don’t want to wait. I want to know now.”

“Evie, it’s too dangerous.”

“He’d find out anyway Bas. I just need to know. We can ask them while I’m here.” Everly looked up at him with pleading grass green eyes. “I can’t wonder anymore. We can have them send the results to you.”

“Okay Evie. We’ll find out. Maybe there will be nothing to worry about.” Bastien still didn’t know what answer he wanted. He knew that the baby being Liam’s would be easier, but is that what he wanted? When he’s felt her kick his hand he’d felt a subtle twinge of hope in his chest. He had immediately felt guilty, he didn’t want things to be harder for Evie. Aren’t things already bad if she’s this broken? Could she handle a lifetime knowing all they’d lost? Could he? He removed his hand from her stomach. “I should go back to my post.”

“Okay.” Everly said defeatedly. “Let me know if you get ahold of Liam please.”

“I will Evie.” Bastien moved to kiss her forehead before remembering his place and pulling away.

Before Bastien could leave the doctor stepped into the room. “Your Majesty, I have your results.” He said giving her a bow.

“I keep begging you to call me Everly, please I don’t need any formalities.” She replied.

Bastien had to stifle a chuckle, it was a small glimpse, but he saw the real Evie. The Evie he knew and loved.

“Of course your— I’m mean Everly.” The Doctor stated glancing at Bastien.

“You may speak freely.” Everly said noticing the doctor’s hesitation.

“Understood your— Everly. It appears you have a pretty serious urinary tract infection. We will start you on a round of antibiotics that are safe to clear it up.”

“So all that pain was from an infection?” Everly asked surprised.

“Yes, UTI’s can be rather common during pregnancy due to everything being on top of everything else. That’s what can also cause the cramping.” The doctor explained. “I would like to keep you overnight to ensuring there are no complications or side effects for Cordonia’s future Queen.”

Everly grimaced. “Actually I was hoping to discretely have a prenatal paternity test done while I’m here. You can send the results to Bastien.”

The doctor struggled to contain his surprise, eyes going wide. “Of course. Who shall we be comparing?”

“Bastien.”

“Understood. I will alert a nurse and we will get the test handled. It will be a few weeks until the results come back.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” A flicker of an unknown emotion in the doctor’s eyes. He bowed before exiting the room.

“I’ll go and try to contact Liam again and update him on your condition.” Bastien said removing his phone from his pocket.

Everly nodded. “Bas can you come back and sit with me when you’re done? I don’t want to be alone.”

Bastien knew he should say no. He needed to keep his emotions and feelings out of it. “Of course.” He said before he exited the room, kicking himself for given into temptation. He needed to keep his distance, not stay close. As much as he missed her he knew it wasn’t meant to be.

***

Bastien looked down at his phone, his jaw clenching as he reread the text. ‘Thank you for getting her care Bastien. As long as she’s fine I’m going to stay and handle this deal. Please keep me apprised of any and all changes.’ He keyed in his response, biting his tongue as not to say what he felt. You can’t come back for her? Again he found himself questioning why he had let her get away, denying them both of their happiness.

“He’s not coming is he?” Everly asked her grass green eyes pleading with him to tell her she was wrong. She was inexplicably hurt by the fact that her husband couldn’t even call her to check on her. She felt even more broken than before, at least then she could pretend he cared. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised, he’d only be worried if something was wrong with little bird, his heir.

Bastien felt anger course through him. Liam was putting a deal over his own wife, own child. He doesn’t deserve her. His heart broke at the thought of telling her she was right. “No, he isn’t.”

“Okay.” Everly said blinking back tears.

Bastien took her hand giving it a comforting squeeze. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment or reblog to let me know how much you like it. I can handle the screams, so scream away.

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

Taglist will be reblogged.

#bastien x mc #liam x mc #bastien lykel #the royal romance #trr au #the royal romance au #Bastien x Everly #bas x evie #on the tree tops #when fairytales break #chapter 3 #angst #tw cheating #long post #read more

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crsinclair · 6 years ago

Text

Enter Eraser

FINALLY I have the next installment for What a Villain Deserves. This piece takes place pretty much directly after Cliché Hero Versus Villain, which was mostly Present Mic being confused. In this one we only see our beloved Eraserhead for a small bit, but we learn a LOT about him!

“Ah, Thanks for coming, Present Mic.”

Hizashi gave Tsukauchi a smile. “Not a problem! Though I wasn't really expecting to get a call about this,” he said, nodding his head towards the back of the station. More specifically, the interrogation rooms.

Tsukauchi gave him a tired smile. “Honestly, we weren't expecting to be calling you, either.”

Hizashi raised a brow at that, frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. What exactly did that mean? When the detective directed him towards his office instead of the back rooms, the confusion he felt only grew. The two of them walked down the hall, a few officers stopping to greet the two of them before Tsukauchi was closing the door to his little office and directing the Hero to take a seat. “So, why did you call me? Other than the fact that I'm cool.”

“Coffee?” the detective asked after he was done chuckling, moving to help himself to the coffee machine he kept in the corner of his office.

“Ah, sure, thanks.” Alright, not getting an answer to his question right away. Got it.

Tsukauchi nodded and pulled out a spare mug and got to pouring. “It took a bit, but we managed to get some indentification off the villain,” he started explaining, turning around to place a steaming mug in front of Hizashi along with a container holding packets of sugar and creamer. “Very smart of him to burn his fingerprints.”

“That doesn't last forever, though,” Hizashi said as he started dumping in as many creamers as he could into the mug.

“True – from what our specialists could tell, he burns his fingerprints off regularly.” Tsukauchi sat down in his chair with a small sigh of relief, clutching his own mug close to him. “Plus he wears gloves, keeps his hair bound, face covered, and from his equipment we've been able to tell he's very, very thorough in getting blood stains cleaned up. He's been avoiding law enforcement for a long time.”

Hizashi hummed, dumping in several packets of sugar into his mug. “So who is this guy?”

Tuskauchi took a sip of his coffee and pulled the folder on top of the stack closest to him open. “Aizawa Shouta. 30 years old, lives alone in a small apartment complex in Musutafu, job title he has down in his apartment application as 'freelance contractor',” he says dryly.

Hizashi rolled his eyes. “I guess that's one way to describe villainy.”

A smile flit across Tsukauchi's face. He turned his eyes towards the information in the folder, skimming the lines. “We got a team to check out where he lives,” he continued, pausing to take another sip. “We're pretty sure half the apartment was dedicated to his equipment.”

“Well, I've got a room at home for just my Hero gear.”

“Mic, I'm not exaggerating.” Tsukauchi tugged some pictures out of the folder and slid them across the desk for Hizashi to look at. “I mean that he had a single sleeping bag for furniture, some juice and jelly packets in the fridge, some hygiene products, and then the rest of his entire home was covered in various tools and equipment.”

Hizashi's eyebrows shot up as he leaned forward to take a look at the pictures. Indeed, there was a single sleeping bag next to a window, and then shelf after shelf after storage cabinet stuffed full of all sorts of things. Knives, caltrops, poisons, lockpicks – so many lockpicks – what Hizashi could only assume were smoke bombs, and many more tools crammed into what looked to be a very small apartment. “Well then.” He cleared his throat. “Half of his apartment dedicated to his, ah, career choice.”

“There were also a number of cats,” Tsukauchi said.

“...Cats.”

“Cats.” Tsukauchi shook his head. “We had to call in animal control to get all the cats out of the apartment. Fifteen in total.”

“Fifteen cats?”

Tsukauchi tossed him a grin. “Fifteen cats.”

The grin slid off his face after a moment, giving him a serious look. He leaned forward, placing his coffee to the side to pull another picture out of the folder. “My team also found these in his apartment.”

He slid the picture over. Hizashi squinted at the detective, confused, and peered down at the small photo. With a single look, staring at the object depicted, the Hero knew exactly why he'd been called into the precinct to have a chat with Tsukauchi about this particular villain.

“Hey,” he laughed, a little anxious but doing his best to not let it show. “You guys found my headphones. Nice.”

“Mic, can you tell me why your headphones were in with his equipment?” Tsukauchi asked, folding his hands together in a calm steeple.

Hizashi cracked a grin. “Oh, come on, you really gonna question me about that?” When the detective simply blinked at him, he sighed. “Okay, you are...

“Look, it's nothing big. Nothing to worry about, really.” He shrugged, swirling the coffee in his mug and doing his best to calm his nerves. Because this wasn't something he needed to worry about. 'Just tell the truth and you'll be fine,' he thought to himself.

Yeah, because the cops thinking he had some sort of connection with a Villain that had a known connection with a group that wanted All Might dead was totally fine.

“I've had a few run-ins with this Villain while on patrol,” Hizashi explained. “Never managed to catch him – can't tell if it's because I haven't been on patrol in a while or if he's just a slippery bastard – and during one of our encounters he stole my headphones. That's all.”

Tsukauchi stared at him for a moment longer, one of his fingers tapping over the knuckles of his opposite hand, and then relaxed. Hizashi could feel the tension drain from his own shoulders seeing Tsukauchi pick his coffee up again. “Really? You've never managed to get him? Wouldn't your quirk make it so most people can't even crawl away?”

Hizashi pouted. “Normally, yeah, but. I dunno, Tsukauchi, I think it has something to do with his quirk.”

“Ah, yes.” Tsukauchi shuffled a few of the papers in the folder around until he found the one he was looking for. “According to his file, he's got a quirk called 'Erasure'. It allows him to erase the quirk of anyone within sight, so long as he doesn't blink.”

Hizashi hummed at that. “Interesting. Man, if he'd been a hero that would be dead useful against Villains using their quirks against civilians.”

“Well, now he's using it to take down Heroes,” Tsukauchi said.

“Wait, really?” Hizashi frowned. Well, sure, the guy was hanging out with the League of Villains, which couldn't be good news. The League of Villains, who brought a Noumu to a school field trip and attempted to murder the number one hero and nearly killed him. But during any of his encounters on patrol the man hadn't really done anything...villainous. Nothing extreme anyway, if one didn't count fighting a Hero and stealing from him as villainous.

Tsukauchi nodded. “After we managed to identify him and get his information, we ran the few things we had through records to see if perhaps there were any matches for crimes or other incidents.” He reached for another folder and flipped it open. “Nothing recently up until the other day when we caught him, but his hair matches perfectly with evidence found in unsolved cases that other precincts and mine have been trying to get leads on for years.”

Hizashi's mouth ran dry, looking down at the folder the detective was flipping through. It was...thick. “Years.”

“Yep. And what with him showing to regularly burn away his prints and the careful way he seems to keep traces his his presence away from scenes, I'd wager that there are many, many more crimes he's been apart of.” Tsukauchi frowned down at the folder. “With this information, we've been able to link him to heists, grand-theft auto, severe battery, kidnappings, murder...”

Hizashi felt his blood run cold. The mug in his hand was warm, but with this new information he could barely tell. Murder. Kidnapping. Years. This man, who'd been casually pranking him over the past several weeks during patrols, had murdered people.

Hizashi was a Hero. He's seen some pretty messed up people. Villains with bombs strapped to their chests and threatening to blow up a mall. Villains madly laughing as they slaughter the innocent people in front of them. Villains diving into the sewers to get away after brutally beating a Hero within an inch of their life.

But...

“No. We're not hurting the kids.”

It was hard to picture the man who had saved Asui's life as someone who could take another's.

The phone on Tuskauchi's desk rang once before the detective picked it up. “Tsukauchi.”

Hizashi listened numbly as the detective talked business with whoever was on the other line, sipping distractedly at his over-sweet coffee. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure how to feel about what he'd just learned. It was like the person in the files was a separate person from the asshole he'd kept running into on patrols. If they were the same person, then that meant that this Aizawa was...well, it meant that Aizawa had a soft spot for kids, for one. Maybe?

Man, he felt more confused about all of this than he'd been before running into the man the first time on the streets.

“Mic?” Hizashi jerked his head up and found Tsukauchi standing from his desk. “I was going to go watch Aizawa being questioned. Would you like to join me?”

“Uh, sure. Why not, right?” He raised the mug. “Mind if I take this with me?”

“Not at all. This way.”

The walk back to the interrogation rooms was a short one. Hizashi waved at the officers in the halls, both to be polite and to get his head on straight again. The past few minutes had been weird, and he didn't like how all the new information was conflicting with what he'd observed himself. Better to smile and be cheerful to get himself back together than dwell on it too much.

Of course, given that he'd heard all this new info and it was conflicting for him, Hizashi really should have thought about how actually seeing the man in question would affect him.

The viewing room for interrogations was dark, an officer sitting at the computer in there nodding at the two of them when they walked in. Hizashi heard the woman say something about how she wasn't expecting a Pro to come in, but he wasn't paying attention. His eyes were looking through the one way mirror at the man sitting alone at the table in the other room.

Aizawa Shouta.

Long dark hair feel in messy waves around a scruffy, tired face, body slumped boredly in the chair. His hands were cuffed to the table, a finger tapping occasionally on the wooden surface in no rhythm in particular. The man had been put into a clean uniform, orange on white – a prisoners uniform. And two dark eyes, bloodshot and bags underneath them, were staring unerringly at the mirror.

Hizashi couldn't help feel like those eyes were staring straight at him.

'Unnerving.' But he shook it off, jerking back to the conversation happening around him and greeting the officer with a smile and a handshake. “So! Are we ready to get this show on the road?”

Tsukauchi smiled. “I'll tell them to get started.”

Within just a couple minutes an officer walked into the other room, files under one arm and face impassive. Hizashi stood behind where the detective took a seat, idly sipping at his coffee and watched the interrogation begin. Old case after old case were shown and explained to Aizawa, and charge after charge were piled up in front of him as well. It seemed never ending. And the more time went on, the more Hizashi watched, the more he could tell that the man sitting cuffed to the table? Was barely paying attention.

He frowned, tilting his head and pursing his lips. The man was basically going to be in prison for life, maybe the next ten lives if he was lucky, and he was just...sitting there? Hizashi liked to think he was pretty good at reading people – he had to be, as a teacher and a Pro and as an entertainer – and the vibes coming off this guy were not that of a villain that knew he was caught. He legitimately didn't seem to care. He seemed bored, like this whole interrogation was a waste of his time.

How could a man charged with all these things not care about the turn his life was about to take?

For a moment, Hizashi debated saying anything. But it wouldn't leave him alone. He stepped forward, turning his eyes down to look at the detective sitting just in front of him“Hey, Tsukauchi, I don't think – “

“Wait a second, what's he doing?”

Hizashi snapped his eyes back to Aizawa. Who was now angling his head down just a bit, as if he had something stuck in his back teeth and was trying to get at with his tongue. Why would he – “Oh, shit, Tsukauchi, get a medic in there now!”

Aizawa tilted his head back up, smirking, and said his first words in the room to the confused officer with him. “They call me Eraser.”

And then he swallowed.

Hizashi could only watch with wide eyes as chaos happened around him. Aizawa started convulsing, officers and medics swarmed the room, and everyone was shouting. The interrogation was forgotten. Aizawa was pulled onto a stretcher and carried swiftly out. No one was sure why the man had done it. It all happened so fast, and all he could do was stare in shock.

Eraser.

Somehow, no matter what happened next...Hizashi had a sinking feeling he'd be seeing the man again.

#wavd #ravyn writes #what a villain deserves #erasermic #dialogue heavy in this one #yamada hizashi #present mic #aizawa shouta #eraserhead #bnha #yyyyyyeah he's done some very serious shit #next installment will actually be from shouta's pov #eeeee #why is this concussion so good for getting things written???

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crystalninjaphoenix · 6 years ago

Text

Nightmare World

A Stitched Story

JSE Fanfic

WOW. OKAY, PRETTY SURE THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC EVER. INCOMING. FAIR WARNING. No, seriously, this came out really long. I haven’t compared it in length to others yet, but yeah. So here’s that warning for you. It’s just...this part had a lot of ground to cover and I’m pretty sure a lot of the impact would be lost if I split it up. So, you get extra-long story this time! Read all about how we finally get the good doctor back into action in this AU

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read where it started: Stitched Together | Season One

Previous season two stories: No Strings on Me

Jack woke up to a piece of folded paper hitting him in the face. Actually, he’d already been sort of semi-awake, but the paper landing surprised him to full wakefulness. He opened his eyes and pushed away the paper to see JJ staring at him, already fully-dressed. He waved, then pointed at the paper and left, closing Jack’s bedroom door behind him.

With a sleepy sigh, Jack looked over at his clock. 12:30 pm. His sleep schedule had been messed up ever since he...got back. He didn’t want to fall asleep at night in the dark, so he stayed up way too late and slept in way too much. Chase also overslept now, but he actually went to bed super early. Trying to catch up on all the sleep hours he lost. Well, it wasn’t like either of them had any obligations anymore, since they still hadn’t gone back to their jobs. Technically, both of them were still missing persons cases. As much as Jack wanted for everything to go back to normal, he wasn’t sure how to explain to the police that he’d been kidnapped by a demon for a month until one of his friends somehow got magic, then the two of them proceeded to rescue their other friend from the demon’s control. So, they didn’t try at all.

Jack unfolded the piece of paper. There was a note written on it in JJ’s handwriting. Good morning Jack. I’m sorry for waking you up like this, but I believe I’ve found something important, specifically in regards to Henrik’s condition. If you would please get ready and meet Chase and I in the living room, that would be appreciated. ♡

When did he have time to find something? Probably while the other two were still sleeping, actually. Jack let his head hit the pillow with a soft thwump, taking a few deep breaths. He didn’t want to get up, but he supposed it had to be done. So he pushed into a sitting position and stood up, getting ready to start another day.

A shower, a change of clothes, and a bowl of cereal later, Jack walked into the apartment’s front room. Chase was already awake. That is, in the sense that his eyes were open and he was sitting on the couch. He looked still asleep otherwise, yawning and in pajamas. Jack noted that even though he otherwise wasn’t dressed, he was wearing his bandanna and wristbands. Understandable.

Jack sat down on the other side of the couch. Chase blinked at him. “G’mornin’,” he mumbled.

“It’s like one in the afternoon, but good morning Chase,” Jack said.

Chase nodded, not saying anything back. On an impulse, Jack closed his left eye, activating that weird sort of vision that he still hadn’t figured out. The world turned black and white, and he could see the yellow light inside Chase’s chest. It had...had these sort of grooves in it, ever since they managed to break the strings connecting him to Anti. But every day, they were getting less...angry. Jack wondered sometimes if this weird vision let him see people’s minds, but then wouldn’t the light be in the head? He was still working on several theories.

A sudden appearance of a blue light made Jack turn his attention to JJ, who’d just entered the room. His light was a bit different too. When he wasn’t using his new magic, little discs of the same color tended to float around the light. Jack shook himself, then opened his left eye again, letting normal sight return. JJ was holding one of the magic books they’d retrieved from the shop a month and a half ago. He also had a pad of paper and a pen. They’d been trying to teach Chase sign language, but it was slow going, so they stuck with pen and paper for now.

“Hey, James,” Jack said. “So...what’s all this about? You said you found something?”

JJ nodded eagerly. He flipped through the book, stopping at a page near the end. He put the open book down on the couch in between Jack and Chase, so they could both lean over and read it. The writing was small, and there were some strange pictures, but the entry title was large enough to read easily: The Nightmare.

“What’s this?” Chase’s eyes were wide.

JJ dropped the pad of paper on top of the entry, letting the other two read what he’d already written. I was scanning through this book this morning, and found it had a section on other worlds, that sort of orbit our own like a solar system. Apparently this one is known as The Nightmare. It’s a world where your own dark thoughts and fears shape the environment, making it, essentially, just like a bad nightmare. Just one you experience while you’re awake. It’s said that the physical body cannot access this world, only the soul. When the body is left behind it will be basically lifeless, and the entry describes ones who are stuck in the Nightmare as having “empty, dripping eyes.” It’s said that in the past, black magic magicians would send the souls of their enemies there. I don’t know about you, but to me these facts seem to fit what happened to Henrik.

Jack looked at Chase, noticing he’d suddenly paled. He pushed the note aside and scanned the entry really quick. His finger traced a sentence, which Jack followed along in reading. ‘Some magicians may use crystals or flat, reflective surfaces as windows into the Nightmare, in order to spy upon those they’d sent there.’ “I...I think you’re right.” Chase shuddered. “But if that’s the case, how do we get him back? Can—can we even...?”

“There has to be a way.” Jack looked at JJ, who was already writing.

The only way out of the Nightmare is to create an exit, he wrote. But we can’t make an opening on this side and wait for Henrik to come out. From this world, you can only make ENTRANCES to the Nightmare. Exits can only be made from within. It’s why the Nightmare is such an effective way to get rid of enemies, if cruel. Any openings are one-way.

“So...” Chase tucked his arms in close, pulling on his wristbands. “You’re saying...we’d have to go in and get him.”

JJ paused, then nodded slowly.

All the color drained from Jack’s face. “We...we have to go—go to a-a-a dimension that’s designed to—it makes all our bad dreams come to life.”

Not just bad dreams, but bad experiences and fears too. JJ looked back and forth between the two of Jack and Chase, both of whom were pale and trembling. You don’t have to. I’m the one with the ability to open the entrance and exit, I can go on my own.

“No.” Chase shook his head. “No, no, you can’t go on your own. Nobody should go on their own. I—I can come. And—and Henrik is in there, and it’s my fault—stop shaking your head, I know it isn’t really but I still feel like it is, and—and if I can reverse this, I’ll...I’ll feel better about it.”

Jameson stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded again. He looked over at Jack with a curious head tilt. Jack stared back. He should want to help Schneep. He did. But...if he thought about travelling to a place that would deliberately take him back to his worst memories, back to what he worst feared...”I’m sorry, I just—I can’t,” he whispered. He fought the urge to rub his right eye. He’d had it back for barely two weeks, just half the time he’d been without it. He was still getting re-used to it.

“That’s okay,” Chase said softly. “I get it. You don’t have to make yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack muttered.

“It’s okay, Jack,” Chase repeated. He hesitated for a moment, the reached over and put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. Even though it wasn’t a lot, Jack knew it was hard for Chase to even do that much. The gesture melted his heart a little.

“Alright,” Jack said shakily. “Alright.” He looked up at JJ. “When...when were you planning to do this?”

JJ took a moment to write. As soon as possible, honestly. Just enough for you to get ready.

“That seems like a good idea,” Chase nodded. “I think...if I think about it too long, I might start having doubts. Just let me get dressed and stuff. Do you need anything? To make the entrance?”

JJ shook his head. It’s a surprisingly simple spell material-wise. But it may expend a lot of energy.

“Okay.” Chase closed his eyes, folding his arms. “I guess we’re really doing this, huh? Better sooner than later. Let’s go.”

An hour later, they reconvened inside the apartment’s guest room, where Schneep was still stuck. Chase had taken to sleeping on the floor in this room. His makeshift bed, created from loose blankets and pillows, now had a matching twin next to it. Jameson had explained that while their souls were in the Nightmare their bodies would be unconscious, unresponsive. So Jack had set up a place for them to lie down, so that their bodies would be safe and out of the way. Now, he was sitting in the chair next to the bed, watching Chase and JJ get ready for their journey. He couldn’t quite believe this was happening. It was...so fast. “You...you’re both sure?”

JJ nodded, eyes full of determination. Chase took a deep breath. “Yeah...yeah I am.” He looked at JJ. “So...how do we start this?”

Jameson lay down, gesturing for Chase to do the same, which he did. JJ then took a steady breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Symbols flickered into existence above the two of them, drawn in blue light. They organized into circles, one above Jameson and one above Chase, written in concentric ripples that slowly revolved around the circles’ centers. Around the edges of each circle, four blue triangles started glowing, pointing toward the circle. Jameson and Chase began breathing slower. They stopped fidgeting and moving, becoming completely still. Eventually, the runic designs dissipated. Jack leaned closer. Glowing blue tears were dripping from underneath both of their eyelids.

“Please come back safe,” he muttered, knowing they couldn’t hear him. He laughed a bit. “I...kind of expected more to happen there, honestly. But I guess you’re not gonna disappear or anything...”

He looked back toward the bed. Schneep was as lifeless as ever. “All of you better come back,” Jack said. “I don’t...think I could handle this on my own.” He took a deep breath, pulling his feet up on to the chair and hugging his knees close. There was nothing to do now but wait. Wait...and hope.

Chase didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t need to. The sight before him fizzled into existence, the way a dream might come into being. He was standing on a flat expanse of black rock, its surface littered with patches of black gravel, pebbles, and chunks of stone. It extended as far as the eye could see. There was no sky above, simply gray. Chase spun around. He couldn’t see anything, not until he made a full turn and saw Jameson fading into being, like a ghost. Also similar to a ghost, he didn’t quite look solid. Instead, he was slightly transparent. JJ looked around, stopping when he saw Chase. He gave him a wave.

“So this is it, huh?” Chase asked.

{I think it has to be.}

Chase yelped, stumbling away. “What just—did you hear that?”

JJ’s eyes widened. He looked frantically around. {I didn’t hear anything, is this something that just Chase can hear, or is my hearing going? Oh, that would be perfect, wouldn’t it? Already lost one way to communicate with people, let’s take the rest away.}

“Wait...” Chase blinked. “Wait, JJ. I think...I think I can hear you.”

{What? No, that’s not possible, he can’t be hearing me. Unless he’s picking up on my thoughts?}

“I think I am picking up on your thoughts, dude!” Chase’s words were all the confirmation JJ needed, whose eyes widened. “Look, this place...we’re not in our bodies right now, right? So I guess we’re able to communicate mind-to-mind.” Chase went silent for a second. He wanted to try...{So maybe I don’t even need to talk either?}

{Oh my god.} Jameson took a few steps back, hand clasping over his mouth in shock. {Oh my god, you can hear me. I can hear you. But wait!} He stopped. {If we’re not in our bodies right now, then...what are these?} He indicated himself, and Chase. {They look like us, but maybe they’re merely projections?}

“Maybe,” Chase shrugged. “Hey, in, like, movies and shit like this, the people are able to change their outfits and appearance. Do you think that...?” He looked down at his projected body. It looked just like him, wearing the same outfit he’d been wearing before entering the Nightmare, bandanna and wristbands included. It certainly felt real. He could feel the texture of his clothes against his skin. And he could feel the...maybe he could...change that? Get rid of them? But when he concentrated, wishing with all his might, his appearance stayed the same. {Oh...I guess...I’m stuck like this then.}

{This is the Nightmare, Chase.} Chase jumped, not realizing he’d somehow projected his disappointment. JJ was giving him a sympathetic look. {It’s not going to make life better for us. In fact, it’s probably going out of its way to make sure we’re not comfortable.}

“...yeah. That makes sense,” Chase sighed. “I just...got my hopes up.” He adjusted his bandanna. “So anyway. How are we gonna find the doc in here? I don’t want to be stuck here for longer than we have to be.”

{I’m not quite sure. Maybe I could try a tracking spell? I don’t know if it will work in here, but it’s better than nothing.}

“Yeah, you do that.” While Jameson closed his eyes and started concentrating on the tracking spell, Chase looked around. “Is...is it just me, or does this place look different now?”

There were trees now. Twisted, messed up trees with white or black bark. The ground was shooting out black grass and undergrowth was slowly growing into existence. The “sky” above was now shot through with squares of black and white, like—like static. And everything was eerily silent.

Jameson looked around. {The Nightmare is shaped by its inhabitants. It’s taking our memories and fears and creating a bad dream, if you will.}

“I’m not scared of a forest,” Chase muttered. “What about you?”

{They...make me a little...uneasy, yes. Deep dark forests, where all you can see are trees...and it looks like the Nightmare knows that.} More trees were popping up, closer and closer together. {Oh! Wait, I got it, it’s working!} The tracking spell had spun into being, a blue disc. It hovered in the air before setting off in a direction, a little faster than walking speed. {Come on, we can’t lose it!} JJ set off after it indicating for Chase to follow.

The monochrome forest was in full effect now, the trees so close that Chase and JJ could barely walk next to each other. Their white branches stretched high, lacing through each other to form a lattice that blocked out most of the sky above (which was now definitely static). Undergrowth reached up and grabbed at their legs, causing them to trip and stumble. When Chase tried to touch one of the tree trunks, the bark peeled and distorted, almost glitching. His hand started to sink into the tree and he barely managed to pull it out. JJ found he was walking much closer to Chase than the rules of personal space would dictate, but he didn’t care. His eyes darted around. It was getting dark beneath the trees.

“Where’s this thing even going?” Chase asked.

JJ shrugged. {Hell if I know. Last time I used it, I just followed it and it worked.}

“Wait, did you just say ‘hell’?” A smile quirked at the edge of Chase’s mouth. “I thought you didn’t swear.”

{...oh.} JJ looked faintly embarrassed. {Well, I don’t say the words, or didn’t, rather, but sometimes it’s hard not to think them, being surrounded by people who swear regularly.}

“I am so telling Jack about th—”

Crack!

The ground broke apart, chunks of black rocks falling away like something from a disaster movie. Below, there was nothing but an endless void. At the bottom there was static, just like the sky. Chase shouted, jumping away from the crack and into JJ, who stumbled with the surprise heaviness of having to catch him. Apparently weight was still a factor in the Nightmare.

There was only a moment of respite. After the first crack, more followed, sinkholes opening up, chunks of the forest falling away. Behind them, the ground collapsed, trees and their roots flailing into oblivion. {Run!} JJ screamed. Chase didn’t hesitate to follow his advice. All around them, the world was breaking apart, everything was crumbling and falling—

—until there was only chunks left.

It looked like they were standing on top of spires, which were anchored in the void. The ground was still black stone, with the occasional stubborn tree clinging to its pebbly surface. A few rocks floated freely in the air, like stepping stones across the sea of static. Not too far away, maybe half the length of a football field, the solid ground resumed, more endless black stone, forming rolling hills covered in long black grass.

“Oh fuck,” Chase whispered. Despite himself, he leaned over the edge, immediately backing up. “Oh fuck.”

{Afraid of heights, then?} JJ asked.

“Yeah. I didn’t think it was that bad, though.”

{Well, I hate to tell you this, but we’re going to have to keep moving.} JJ pointed. The tracker spell had been unaffected by the change of environment, and was keeping its steady pace toward the solid ground.

“I...okay.” Chase tried to move, but found someone had glued his feet to the ground. He looked at the floating stepping stones, the only way to get off their current spire and on the way toward following the tracking spell, and a paralyzing fear coursed through him.

{It’s going to be fine, Chase,} Jameson said reassuringly. {If it helps, get on your hands and knees and just crawl over the gaps.}

“Right. Right.” Slowly, Chase lowered himself to the ground, feeling a bit more steady now. “Just...take this one step at a time. No shame. Just go.”

Somehow, they managed to climb over the stepping stones and spires and back onto solid ground, whereupon Chase collapsed in the shin-length black grass. “I am...never doing that...ever again,” he said. “No more heights. Not even Ferris wheels. No more. I’m staying on the ground.”

{But you made it, at least,} JJ said encouragingly.

“Barely. Fuck. How are you so calm?”

{I just...have to focus on the bigger picture. It’s calming.} JJ scanned the area around them. {We were a little slow. The tracker’s far ahead of us. Do you feel up to walking?}

“Y-yeah, just...” Chase pushed to his feet, his legs a bit shaky.��“Where’s the thing?”

{Just going over the next hill. Come on.}

They had just about reached the top of the hill when they heard the scream.

For a moment, they froze, looking at each other with wide, terror-filled eyes. They knew that scream. In unison, they burst into a run, cresting the hill and staring down into a slight valley caused by a dip between the hills.

The first thing they noticed was the beast. It looked something like a bear, but with a wolf’s head that had snake’s fangs in the mouth. Its fur was odd, mostly white, but every so often black interference and distortions would run across its body, and sometimes it would become just a static silhouette. It was running, black eyes locked onto its target that was sprinting across the valley. Said target was a man, with brown hair. Even though he was running as fast as he could, and even though the beast was half the valley’s length behind, it was easily closing the distance between the two of them.

“No!” Chase didn’t even think, just went, gravity lending him aid in his mad dash down the hill. His feet flew across the ground, and despite the long grass’s best efforts, he was not slowed.

He was only a few feet away when the beast finally caught up to its target, pouncing on the poor man and dragging him down with another scream. It roared in triumph, raising a paw that was covered in three-inch claws for the final swipe.

A blue circle came out of nowhere, slamming into the beast’s side with such force that it was actually knocked over. Lines of blue light dug into its hide, but it just roared, trying to make its way back to its prey. And so two more circles followed, piercing the beast, until with one final roar it collapsed.

Chase looked over his shoulder to see JJ not too far behind him, hand extended forward. His expression was one of complete and utter shock. Apparently he didn’t know he could do that. “Bro, that was badass,” Chase muttered. “Keep that in mind for the future.” He turned back around, covering the rest of the distance in a second. The beast’s target was still lying in the tall grass, arms flung over his face as if to protect it. Chase hesitated, then called, “Doc? Schneep?”

Schneep didn’t look much different that he had when he’d last seen him. After all, this wasn’t actually his real body, just a projection of his soul. It wouldn’t mimic any changes that happened in the real world. He was wearing the same clothes from before, and even his glasses. When he lowered his arms and looked around, Chase saw that his eyes were normal, blue, in this world. Eventually, those eyes noticed Chase staring, and locked on to him.

“Hey...” Chase said softly. “Schneep? Henrik?”

“Nicht wieder.”

Chase hadn’t known what he’d been expecting, but not that. Schneep was backing away from him, moving steadily backwards through the tall grass while never taking his eyes away. Chase blinked. “Doc...? Are you okay?”

“Nicht wieder.” Schneep shook his head. “Nicht wieder!” He suddenly picked up the pace, scrambling backwards in order to get as far away as possible from Chase.

“Henrik, it’s okay, it’s me!” Chase said, desperately trying to calm him down. He reached towards him, but Schneep just flinched away. “We’re here to get you out of this place.”

“Keine Tricks mehr!” Schneep shouted. “Halt dich von mir fern!” He backed away just a bit more, and suddenly the ground crumbled, stone turning into something more like sand. He sank right through it with an expression of surprise...and fear.

“Henrik!” Chase surged forward, but he was too late. The ground had re-solidified, and now there was a patch of blank stone in the field of grass. Chase could only stare at the spot, completely empty. He’d just found him, and then he lost him again. And he hadn’t even wanted to see him. In fact, he’d been afraid of him. What had he been saying? Chase had never really been one for languages. Wasn’t “nicht” something like “not”? Everything else had been too fast for him to pick up or recognize.

{Chase? Are...are you alright?}

He’d almost forgotten JJ was there. {I...don’t know,} he admitted, somehow not being able to say the words out loud.

{It’s...it’s going to be okay.} JJ forced some optimism into his mental voice. {You can’t die inside the Nightmare, so we can just use the tracking spell to find him again.}

“Well. After we used the spell the first time we ran into a creepy forest, an earthquake, and the stepping stones of doom.” Chase stared up at the static-filled sky. “Those are some high odds against us.”

{Well...} JJ frowned, then brightened with an idea. {Oh! So, this place takes our worst fears and turns them against us. Maybe if we tell each other what we’re afraid of, we’ll have a better chance of predicting what’ll happen next.}

“Maybe.” Chase shrugged.

{I’m going to start the spell again now.} The circling blue light began to gather again. {I do wonder what the deal was with that beast, you know.}

“Schneep’s afraid of wild animals,” Chase explained. “Anything with claws and teeth that isn’t a pet, or sometimes even is.”

{See, that’s the thing about fears. I bet that beast wouldn’t even exist if Henrik wasn’t afraid of animals like that. Tracking spell is up again.} The disc started off, slower this time. {It must not be too far, if the spell is this slow. Come on.}

They followed it through the field of grass, going up a hill and down another before the ground leveled out. “So. Fears, huh?” Chase said. “I...well, you saw I’m not a fan of heights. Also not the best with thunderstorms. You?”

{They all seem rather childish,} JJ mused. {I’m not a fan of the dark, or of blood, and, well, after March I developed a fear of needles.}

“That’s reasonable.” Chase nodded. “I...I don’t like eyes anymore. Like, the idea of being watch—” He stopped. Not only stopping his sentence but freezing in place. He looked around. “I could’ve sworn something was...” He shook it off. “Never mind.”

{What was it?} JJ asked.

“Nothing, I just...I thought—” He felt it again. This time he spun around wildly, looking for anything in the area that could have caused it. “I...it’s nothing. It—it has to be nothing.”

{What’s nothing?} The concern in Jameson’s voice was evident.

“It—it feels like something is—” Chase stumbled to the side with the force of the next pull. “What the fuck?!” He looked down at his hands. The string. The length of green string had somehow slipped out from under the wristband on his right hand. And one of the blades of tall grass had wrapped around it, not in a way that could be explained as an accident. He stared at the grass as it pulled.

“No! Let go of me!” He yanked his wrist backwards, only to fall forwards, nearly toppling over, when the grass responded with a yank of stronger force. He gritted his teeth, doing his best to take deep breaths. His heart was pounding, remembering. No, this wasn’t the same thing. He wasn’t going to let it happen again. He grabbed the loose string with his other hand, trying to wrench it away. But the grass renewed its efforts, other blades joining in, twisting around the string and pulling down. “JJ! Help!” His voice broke.

Once Jameson realized what was happening he immediately jumped in, grabbing Chase’s arm and helping in this demented tug-of-war. But it wasn’t enough. The grass was creeping up the string, until suddenly it hopped over to Chase’s other wrist, digging beneath the band until it pulled out the other loose end and started tugging on that one too.

“It’s not enough!” Chase gasped. He blinked away the water in his eyes, he needed to see right now. He planted his feet firmly against the ground, but then he felt something wrap around his ankles. He looked down. It wasn’t the grass doing that. The ground had grown hands, and they were pinning him in place. “Stop it!” he shrieked, trying and failing to shake them off. “Jameson, please! Help!”

Jameson tried again, this time aiming to grab the strings away. But his hands passed right through them. His eyes widened, and he tried to pull Chase’s arms away, only to pass right through them as well. What was happening? He tried to mentally reach out to Chase, to explain, but Chase showed no reaction. He was just staring at him with tears in his eyes, wondering why he wasn’t doing anything to help him in his struggle. Jameson froze, paralyzed for a split second before reaching out towards Chase, his hands passing right through. He couldn’t—he couldn’t do anything. He could never do anything.

With a yelp, Chase was pulled forward, landing on his hands and knees among the grass. More hands sprouted out from the ground, grabbing his arms, making his skin crawl. “Stop! Stop it! Please!” They were a lot stronger than him. One reached up and pulled his bandanna off, wrapping around his neck, in an almost gentle manner. The tears were flowing freely now. “Jameson—anyone! Help!” Chase gasped.

He was trying, he really was. But every time Jameson tried to pry the hands away, or drag Chase away from him, he slipped right through, like he wasn’t even there. All he could do was watch. No, no there had to be another way. There had to be something he could do besides just reach out and try and slip and fail, he had to do something, he had to do something—

There was a burst of blue light. It radiated outward in a series of concentric circles, each wave breaking apart the black grass and the black stone. It didn’t last more than a few seconds, but when it was over, JJ and Chase were in the middle of a blank circle of black rock, the air around them shimmering with particles of blue. Chase was laying on the ground, curled up and shuddering with tears. JJ was still standing, though he quickly knelt by his friend’s side. He hesitated for a split second, then placed a hand on Chase’s shoulder. Chase quickly flinched away, and JJ yanked his hand back, but a wave of relief crashed through him anyway. Whatever had happened must have ended. {Chase...?} JJ called. {Chase, I’m here. It’s over now.}

“It’s over now,” Chase repeated. “It’s over now. It’s over now.” After a few moments, Chase sat up. He picked up his bandanna from where it had fallen and retied it around his neck. He tucked the loose strings back under the wristbands. “That...I...I can see why this place is the Nightmare. I didn’t...”

{Didn’t even think about that,} JJ finished. {Me neither. I suppose I was thinking rather...shallowly, when I thought about worst fears.}

Chase wiped his eyes. “We gotta get Schneep out of here. He’s been here for...what, three and a half months? Fuck, dude. We have to.”

{I lost the tracking spell.} JJ looked around. The disc was nowhere in sight. {I can make another one, but...}

“How did you do that, though?” Chase asked. JJ looked confused, so he continued. “That thing, right there. You, like, stopped everything.”

{I...don’t know.} JJ stared into the static sky. {It was just...something that happened, when I thought about how much I should be doing to help you. That seems to be how this new magic of mine works. Its primary concern is to help others, specifically those I consider my friends.}

“Well, that’s cool, I guess.” Chase shrugged.

{If I’m going to have a magic geared toward a single purpose, there are worse purposes to aspire to.}

“But...okay, if that’s how it works...” Chase bit his lip as he thought. “Could you...maybe find some way to, like, teleport us to where Schneep is? Instead of having to walk across this hellscape?”

JJ blinked. {Maybe...} He closed his eyes. It couldn’t be too hard. That’s what his magic is for, after all. And if they could find the doctor instantly, they could help him easier. JJ took a deep breath, placing his hands flat on the rocky surface of the ground. Almost instantly, circles began pulsing blue around them, gently spreading color through the stony landscape. The two of them felt the ground shift, and then it gave way. They fell for who knows how long, but eventually they landed on a hard surface with an oof-inducing thump.

Chase stood up first, taking in their new surroundings. They were...uncomfortably familiar. A long hallway of black walls, red lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling providing the only illumination. The sound of static crackled through the air. It looked and felt like an simpler version of the halls in Anti’s lair. Chase shuddered. At least this one didn’t have eyes.

JJ clambered to his feet. {Well. Where to now?}

“Well. Left or right?”

{The static is coming from the right.}

“That way, then.” If this place mimicked fears and bad memories, then there was nothing that fell into those categories better than Anti. And static was a side effect of him, so it seemed like a safe bet.

But as the two of them walked toward the static, they began hearing more than just the white noise. There were...voices. In the static. They sounded angry, and...familiar. Eventually, the hallway opened up into a dead-end square room. Chase and JJ stopped in the doorway, processing the sight before them.

Schneep was in the center of the room, on his knees. He was bent over, and his arms were wrapped around his head, hands pressed to his ears. Around him were vague static silhouettes, the shape of a human. Sometimes they’d flicker and become an actual person. The static in the room was deafening, but it couldn’t drown out the angry voices, each of which came from one of the silhouettes.

“D͏i̸e̸!͡”

“Di̡e ̵i̧n͢ a̵ fir͞e!”

“Yóu'́r̡e ̸w̧e̴ak.”

“Y̵ou'́r̴e a ͟f̡ai̴l̡u̷re̵!̕”

“All ̶y̧ou͠ do is h̷u̧r̀t͡ p̶ȩople̛!”

“Es tut mir Leid.” Schneep sounded like he was sobbing. “Es tut mir Leid!”

{Chase...} JJ said hesitantly. {That’s your voice.}

Chase nodded slowly, listening to the silhouettes—which, he now recognized, were him, if he’d been filled with static.

“Dr͝ow͏n ̶an͠d̨ d̵ię!̨”

“L̶ia͡r.”

“T̴r͢ait̵o̸r̨.”

“M͞uŕd̀e̸r̛e̕r̵.”

“Es tut mir Leid, es tut mir Leid!” Schneep wailed. “Bitte vergib mir!”

{I don’t understand. What’s—}

“He shot me,” Chase remembered.

{He what?!}

“It—it was Anti’s plan,” Chase explained. “Anti can’t go after people unless they’re mentally weak. And he thought Schneep was pretty mentally strong, so he thought...that the best way to get inside his head was to make him feel guilty. Like...like if he shot one of his best friends. So, he made a plan to trick him into doing that.” Chase fell silent. “I think he thinks he killed me.”

JJ looked absolutely stunned at this news. {I...I didn’t know.}

“Of course you didn’t.”

{Why didn’t you tell Jack and I?}

“Because...I don’t know.” Chase closed his eyes. “Because this is why I think it’s all my fault, and you’re both so insistent on saying it’s not that it would feel...it would feel like a ‘ha, so there’ moment. Then you would instantly try to say it’s not, and it would feel...hollow. Like you’re reassuring a kid.”

{Chase.} Jameson’s tone made Chase open his eyes again. {Our reassurances are not hollow platitudes. It was Anti’s plan. And he used you for it. It. Is. Not. Your. Fault. But...I can see how you can think it was. So, in that case, if you wish to make everything right...} Two blue circles spun out of nowhere. {Then I think doing something like this will do just that.}

Chase stared at him. Then his eyes hardened. “Well, then. You’re gonna do the stop-everything thing?” JJ nodded. “Then do it.”

Jameson turned away from Chase and back toward the room. The circles grew in brightness, lines of runes shooting outward. Then they flew forward, bursting and filling the room with blue light. When the light faded, the silhouettes were gone, and so was the static. Schneep was left in the same position as before, slightly rocking a bit.

Chase ran into the room, JJ right behind. The two of them knelt next to Schneep, who had his eyes shut tight. Chase hesitated for a moment. He didn’t want to say anything, that would no doubt have a negative reaction after what just happened. So instead, he slowly reached out and wrapped one arm around Schneep. The contact made him bite back a crawling, itching wave of discomfort, but fuck it. He could handle a minute for his friend.

It seemed to work. Schneep relaxed, if only a little bit. He slowly blinked open his eyes, though he didn’t take his hands away from his ears. The first thing he saw was JJ, sitting next to him. JJ gave a little wave, a flutter of the fingers. He didn’t say anything either, maybe because Schneep would’ve freaked out at hearing a voice in his head.

Schneep tilted his head, eyes narrow. Wary, suspecting a trick. He realized that someone must’ve been holding him, and craned his head backwards. Upon seeing it was Chase, his eyes widened. His mouth opened, but nothing came out except for a strangled squeak.

“It’s fine,” Chase murmured. “It’s fine.” And he didn’t say anything else.

After a tense moment, Schneep seemed to realize Chase wasn’t going to shout at him like the silhouettes had. He slowly removed his hands from his ears, still bracing for a sudden attack. Still nothing. “Es tut mir Leid,” Schneep muttered.

Chase knew that one. He was pretty sure it meant something like ‘I’m sorry.’ “It’s okay,” he said. “I forgive you.” Because that was what Schneep needed to hear. Even if what had happened had all been a trick, he still felt guilty for it. So, it was time to ease that just a bit.

Schneep crumpled. He leaned against Chase, burrowing his face in his shirt. Chase didn’t move. He was afraid that if he did, his screaming instincts would take over and he would push Schneep away. And nobody wanted that right now.

After a few moments, Schneep pulled back. “We’re going to take you home,” Chase said. “Are you ready to go home?”

Tears instantly welled up in Schneep’s eyes. He nodded.

“Alright, then. JJ? You ready?”

Jameson nodded. He lay down on the floor, and Chase and Schneep followed his lead. A similar runic design from making the entrance appeared above each of them, though now the runes were different, and the triangles pointed outward. There was a flash of blue light, and the Nightmare was empty.

They’d entered the Nightmare at a little after two in the afternoon. It was now approaching six, and Jack still hadn’t moved. Well, he’d gotten a snack and grabbed his phone, but that was the only time. He was afraid that if he wasn’t there, something could happen to them. He didn’t know what, but when dealing with Anti anything was possible.

He was starting to worry, but then the blue light appeared. At first a gentle glow, outlining all of their bodies. Followed by an increase in intensity, then a flash. Chase flew into a sitting position, gasping. He took a few deep, shuddery breaths, then grabbed the nearest blanket and wrapped it around him. JJ sat up a bit slower, shaking his head. He brushed away the remains of the blue tears that had appeared when they’d entered the Nightmare. He looked at them curiously, then shrugged.

“You’re back!” Jack gasped. “What happened? Did you...?”

A small sound, halfway between a whimper and a groan, came from the bed. Jack stiffened, then spun around in the chair. Schneep was blinking his eyes. The static was gone, it was just regular blue, and he was blinking. His hand came up, slowly, trembling, and wiped away the last of the static tears. Unlike Chase and JJ, they’d left a permanent mark. There was now scarred lines, mimicking the shape of tears, following the path the static had taken. But he was—he was awake.

“Hen?” Jack asked, almost scared to say anything. “H-Henrik?”

Schneep’s head rolled towards him. “...Jack?” His voice was hoarse and rough, but he’d said something.

“Henrik!” Jack grabbed Schneep’s hand in excitement. “You’re back! Oh thank fucking god, you’re back! Oh my god!” A massive weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. Breathing was a bit easier now.

“Jack.” Schneep squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them wide again. “Something is wrong. Something is wrong.”

Jack’s smile faded a bit. “What’s wrong?”

“I cannot—I cannot see you.”

His heart stopped. Jack could only gape for a moment. He looked back at JJ and Chase, still sitting on the floor, but they looked as shocked as he was. “You...you can’t?” Jack asked. “Can you...see anything at all?”

Schneep hesitated for a moment. “Statisch.”

You didn’t have to know German to figure out what that meant. “And that’s—that’s all you can see?”

Schneep nodded. “It is everywhere.” His eyes were moving, rapidly darting back and forth and up and down. “I cannot—I can hear, I can feel, but I cannot—where am I?”

“You’re in my apartment,” Jack said. “Do you...do you know what happened?”

“Chase—”

“I’m right here,” Chase piped up. He climbed to his feet, walking over to stand next to Jack. “You missed an epic rescue mission.”

Schneep laughed hoarsely. “I can tell, I can tell, your voice is back. You are...” The small smile he’d gained dropped away again. “Chase, I had—I had very strange dreams. I am—I’m sorry.”

“They weren’t dreams,” Chase said sadly. “It’s...a long story. Maybe JJ can write out an explanation and we’ll read it to you. He’s a lot better at explaining things. And I told you I forgave you, didn’t I?”

Schneep’s eyes got watery at that. “Thank you,” he whispered. Then, after a moment of silence, he started to move. “I need to sit up.”

“I don’t think you can, dude,” Jack said. “You haven’t really moved in, like, four months.”

“Four—?!” Schneep choked. “What happened? Did my muscles, did they waste away?”

“No, don’t worry, we all took care of that,” Jack said reassuringly. “Mostly JJ. Speaking of which...” Jack turned around. “Stop sitting on the floor and get over here! This is a tender moment you need to be a part of!”

JJ chuckled at that, standing up. He walked over to the other side of the bed and grabbed Schneep’s other hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

Schneep closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “There is nothing here,” he muttered. “And that is good.” He opened his eyes again, though he might as well have kept them shut. “What happened while I was asleep?”

Jack grinned. “Well. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

#couldve easily given this an angsty ending but damit these boys deserve happiness after all theyve gone through #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #brigid writes fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #fixing stitching #stitchedstories

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ehyde · 7 years ago

Text

Five People Who Never Summoned Wei Wuxian

What would have happened if someone else sacrificed themselves to bring him back? Five canon-divergent AUs. 2513 words, Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian. (ao3)

Wei Wuxian opens his eyes to a dim room and the smell of blood. The pain he feels tells him the blood is his own. But hadn't he died? How does he have a body to feel pain? He looks around the sparse room and sees chains. More than just chains. Someone's been doing some nasty work here--but sacrificing some poor soul to bring him back would have to be the worst.

My reputation being what it is, I suppose they'll expect me to be grateful.

He tries to stand, only to discover one of his legs must be broken. The door is probably barred, anyway. But as he collapses, he finally sees the bloody array spread out beneath him. In the dim light he can't see every line and marking, but he can see enough.

Well. That explains some of the blood.

So the former owner of this body summoned him here? To get revenge on whoever locked him up, tortured him? Understandable...but possibly difficult to arrange. He’s still locked in here, after all, without any tools to work with, presumably still at the mercy of—

The door opens. A beam of firelight overshot by purple lightning illuminates the array, and Wei Wuxian freezes. He bites back a scream as Zidian strikes his back, then forces his eyes upward to meet Jiang Cheng’s shadowed face.

“Very well,” says Jiang Cheng. “I will accept you are not Wei Wuxian.”

“...ha!” Hysterical laughter bursts forth as he pieces together what happened. “Jiang Cheng, you were searching for me, all these years? But I really had nothing to do with this fellow until you drove him to it.” Jiang Cheng's dark expression is torn between furious and--something unreadable. “This summoning ritual, do you know it? If I don't carry out the caster’s wish, I'll die a horrible death. My soul will never be reborn.” He turns his gaze back down, to the words scrawled in blood outside the array.

Kill Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian struggles to his feet, then collapses to his knees once more. Even if he wanted to, this body probably didn't have the strength. “You'll finally be rid of me for good!”

But rather than the look of triumph that Wei Wuxian expected to see, confusion, then horror fill Jiang Cheng's face as Wei Wuxian's words sink in.

Wei Wuxian collapses onto what feels like a fine silk bedsheet, sticky with--he opens his eyes--blood. While the body of the one who performed this ritual had barely been strong enough to complete it, he had been prepared: the room Wei Wuxian finds himself in is full of finery, but no blood, no trace of the spell spreads beyond that one sheet. Easy to hide the evidence…

As he takes a few deep breaths to recover his strength, Wei Wuxian wonders what would have driven a man in this position to perform such a ritual. Don't rich men usually buy their revenge?

He spots a mirror lying on a small table, next to some writing paper and a couple of folding fans. As he lifts the mirror, he almost drops it in surprise. Uh. What? It’s the absolute last face he’d have expected to see. There was no way that Nie Huaisang, of all people, could have possessed the willpower needed for this particular ritual... except, apparently, he did.

Next to the mirror is a letter addressed to him. As he picks it up, he realizes that every sheet of paper beneath is filled with writing, too--the “letter” is practically a book. Wei Wuxian begins to read. Following the rules was never your thing, but I really need your help. Just keep pretending you're me, and follow these instructions to the letter. Otherwise, well, I really don't know anything about rituals like this, but I think if you don't, your eternal soul might be at stake, so…

Wei Wuxian doesn’t need to open his eyes to know he’s lying on a grave. He hadn't expected to be given a body at all, but what’s really surprising is that this is a woman's body. He'd only ever met a couple of women who possessed the determination to carry out this ritual. And just what is he going to do with himself as a woman?

...wait. That probably shouldn’t be his highest concern right now. But there’s an envelope sitting atop the casket. Maybe its contents will tell him what’s going on here.

As he scans the pages, his eyes widen. This body was once Qin Su, the wife of Jin GuangYao...and if what he’s reading is true, then yikes. But if it isn’t true, then what? The spell that brought him back cares nothing for justice, merely payment.

He pauses, hums a few notes experimentally. As expected, the small casket contains the corpse of their son, but it’s not like Wei Wuxian can ask the child how he died. He’ll have to go straight to the source to confirm Qin Su’s suspicions.

As he stands up, one more thing catches his eye--a sword, carefully laid out on the other side of the casket, away from the bloody array. What’s surprising is that it’s his sword, Suibian. Ahh...of course his possessions would have ended up in the hands of the LanlingJin sect. Qin Su had taken the trouble to ready it for him--how thoughtful! But her body’s spiritual strength is too low to make the best use of a sword like Suibian. There’s another, far more efficient weapon at hand.

He tucks Suibian away inside his skirts, then hums a few more soft notes. The lid of the casket creaks aside. A tiny hand reaches out.

***

“Wei Ying.”

Turns out it’s the day of LanlingJin’s discussion conference. Turns out that a room full of powerful cultivators doesn’t respond well to a fierce corpse attacking their leader. Turns out that Suibian had sealed itself, and drawing it is enough to prove his identity, and of course it wasn't hard at all for Jin GuangYao to cast Wei Wuxian as the bad guy.

And then it had turned out that Lan Wangji helped him escape.

With soft fingers, Lan Wangji traces the cut on Wei Wuxian's arm. “It won't heal,” he says. “Not until Jin GuangYao dies.” Lan Wangji just nods, and without any hesitation, tears a strip of cloth from his robes to bind the wound. Although Jin GuangYao hadn’t admitted a thing, the way he acted when faced with the corpse of his son--so calm, so collected--leaves no doubt in Wei Wuxian's mind.

Then Lan Wangji's hand, so soft, so gentle, drifts upwards to brush a stray strand of hair out of Wei Wuxian's face. His fingers linger on his cheek, tracing the shape of his new face. “Hey,” says Wei Wuxian. “Don't make this weird just because I was given a woman's body. I'm exactly the same person I was before.”

Lan Wangji looks away. “Of course,” he says.

“The Yiling Patriarch, I presume?”

Wei Wuxian opens his eyes to find a sharp-eyed youth smiling back at him. He summoned me back? How? He looks down and recognizes the array beneath his feet, but if this other man had just stood there watching— “This body,” he begins.

The young man grins. “He was, shall we say, misinformed as to the nature of this ritual. He wanted revenge, and he wanted you, but he expected to be here to carry it out.” He stretches out a hand. Wei Wuxian doesn't take it. “I could hardly be expected to sacrifice myself to bring you back, after all.”

“Who was he?” Wei Wuxian asks. Half the cultivators in the world wanted revenge on him, after all, and the bloodstained yellow robes of the Jin sect that he’s wearing hardly narrow things down.

The other man shrugs. “Honestly? No fucking clue. Just a hotheaded kid who bit off more than he could chew. Easy enough to lure here.”

Even if this unknown soul hadn’t understood the ritual, he’d performed it correctly. His soul had passed on to the afterlife now, no going back. I’m not someone who would possess an unwilling body, but it seems I’ve done so anyway. Wei Wuxian narrows his eyes at the man. “That’s...that’s really despicable.”

The man’s expression falters. Only for an instant. “Oh, don’t say that, not when we’re going to be such good friends,” he says. “After all, aren’t you here to help me out?”

***

The hatred of all the cultivation clans in the world cannot condemn Wei Wuxian half as much as this: Xue Yang looks up to him. He still does, for all Wei Wuxian has made his distaste clear, each day attempting to impress him with some new atrocity. All the while keeping him imprisoned--it’s a contradiction Wei Wuxian doesn't understand, and doesn't want to.

“Meet Song Lan,” Xue Yang tells him one day as a tall, blank-eyed figure steps behind him into their home. “He’s as powerful as your Ghost General, but he's completely under my control.”

“So this is what you'd do to Priest XingChen if his soul were whole?” Of course Wei Wuxian had never enslaved Wen Ning, he hadn't needed to. They were friends—

Song Lan isn't Xue Yang's friend.

“How’d you do it?” he asks. Xue Yang beams down at him--the first time his work has impressed the master.

“Well, first I killed him. Not that I did it myself…”

***

Xue Yang dies only seconds after Wei Wuxian removes the pins from Song Lan’s skull. Thank you, the mute corpse writes on the ground. When Wei Wuxian presents him with what remains of Xiao XingChen’s soul, he smiles as much as he can. I can lead you out of Yi City, he writes, and Wei Wuxian follows.

But in a stolen body, in a world that hates him, he doesn't know where to go next. He steps into the first inn he sees--and finds himself face to face with a frustrated, exhausted Jiang Cheng. “Jin Ling.” His eyes narrow and he rises to his feet. “Where have you been? I’ve been searching for nearly a month!”

Who did this body belong to, that Jiang Cheng would come looking for him himself? “Uh, Sect Leader Jiang—”

“Don't 'Sect Leader Jiang’ me. Your other uncle has been worried sick!”

... other uncle?

This is—? “...uncle,” Wei Wuxian tries.

“Better,” says Jiang Cheng, and Wei Wuxian doesn't hear the rest. This...this is shijie’s son?

He recalls Xue Yang’s tale of Song Lan’s death. “He knew exactly who this was,” he whispers.

Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

He’d never even met shijie’s son, back then. The one thing he hadn’t destroyed, and now--and now he--

“I didn’t--I swear I’ll bring him back, I’ll find a way, I swear!”

“You're not Jin Ling.” Purple lightning crackles in Jiang Cheng's hand. “Who are you?” he snarls, and Wei Wuxian suspects he already knows.

Wei Wuxian awakens to an overwhelming sense of peace, which is puzzling, as he is supposed to be dead. He opens his eyes. Shuts them and opens them once more to make sure he isn't dreaming. He's never been in this room before, but there's no doubt about it--this is the Cloud Recesses. How on Earth did he end up here?

Further examination of the room explains the how, but only raises more questions regarding the why. This ritual... calling upon an evil spirit to carry out revenge? So he’s counted as an evil spirit, here among the Lan clan? That should come as no surprise--so why does it sting?

Anyway, isn't revenge against the rules? Then his thoughts turn more serious. He doesn't want to hurt anyone here, so whatever revenge the former owner of this body had wanted will have to—

He pauses. Did this person ask for vengeance, after all? Wei Wuxian scratches his head. He doesn't recall anything. As he lowers his hand, it brushes against his forehead ribbon, and he trails his hand down the loose ends. Cloud patterned. Not merely a disciple, but a member of the family? Sudden dread fills him. He doesn’t want to know, he has to know. Mirror, mirror--there has to be a mirror here, mirrors aren't against the rules! Finally he finds one, but he's almost afraid to look.

He looks, of course. “H-hanguang-Jun?”

This doesn't make any sense. This is wrong. “Hanguang-Jun, what—?” His obvious shock and confusion look utterly alien on Lan Wangji's face. He schools his expression into stiffness--there, there he is. Except, of course, he isn't.

The moment he'd realized he was in the Cloud Recesses he'd been thinking how he could avoid Lan Wangji, but suddenly all he wants is for the other man to step up behind him, for the reflection to be an illusion, for him to be here. But why? It’s not like they were friends. “Lan Zhan, look at me,” he whispers. His lips curve upwards in the slightest smile at the words, and Wei Wuxian can’t help himself, he starts as if the other man really did respond. The illusion shatters. He tosses the mirror aside.

It shatters, too.

“Lan Zhan, this was a mistake, right?” Even if Wei Wuxian was nothing more than an evil spirit to Lan Wangji, he wasn’t the sort of person to go this far for revenge. And he didn’t. His body bears no wounds. It's as if his wish has already been granted, and all he wished was for Wei Wuxian to be here.

But that’s impossible, of course.

Wei Wuxian sighs. Probably, he’ll never know.

+ 1

Wei Wuxian can feel the morning sun warm on his face, but he doesn't open his eyes until he feels Lan Wangji comb his unkempt hair back from his face. He looks up at him. “You slept in.”

“Mm.” Of all the rules Lan Wangji has broken for him, this is arguably the least significant--yet when they wake up together on days like this, he feels like he's been given the entire world.

Lan Wangji's hands continue to trace the lines of his face. “Does it ever feel strange to you?” Wei Wuxian asks. “To look at me, and see someone else?” It's been a year now, since he came back, but every so often Mo Xuanyu’s reflection still catches him by surprise.

A single finger presses his lips shut. Don't ask stupid questions. “You're here,” says Lan Wangji.

He's here. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes again and sighs with pleasure as Lan Wangji bends forward to kiss him. Sometimes he still marvels at everything that brought him here, at everything that could have gone wrong but didn't. But today--he wraps his arms around the other man, hand entwining in soft hair against the back of Lan Wangji’s head, pulling him close, savoring the kiss--today it is enough that he is here.

#mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mdzs #my fic

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savinscripts · 6 years ago

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❝ Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time. ❞

TW: Assault, Drug usage, Mutilation, Violence

“I just don’t understand how no one has been able to track any of them down,” Faye said to the wand tech behind the counter. She tapped a black-laquered nail against a list that she had laid on the desk: wands that had been claimed stolen or missing (twenty-five total) since a few months before the first murder. “Not even a trace?”

The tech, a kid that looked barely out of Hogwarts, with a large boil on his neck, shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, ma’am. We don’t have any record of these wands.” He swallowed, shuffling a few papers as he silently wished Faye would go away. The boil moved up and down.

Faye sighed, though it was more a growl than anything. “Well find some,” she snapped, leaving a quickly made copy of the list with him and turning around to storm out. “Amateurs,” she muttered, marching past Fane who leaned against the wall outside, looking entirely too smug for so early in the morning.

“I mean… does anyone around here know how to do their job besides me?” she complained as he fell in step beside her.

Fane lingered outside the office of the unfortunate wand tech to face Faye’s wrath today, arms folded and propped up against the doorframe. He didn’t even need to look inside to know young Timothy likely looked half-petrified of the woman in front of him, and the fact that Fane could make such a woman melt caused a smirk to play idly at his lips. His head tilted back as Faye growled and snapped at the poor boy, incompetent fool, was all Fane had to think on that particular matter.

As Faye marched out of the office casting him a withering look that only served to make his smugness grow into a borderline (and very inappropriate) grin. “I do,” he answered as he fell into step with her as the pair of them swept through the office, Faye’s co-workers parting like the red-sea when they saw the death glare that seemed to be fixed on her features. It was comical, Fane thought, that these people had worked with her for so long yet knew nothing of the true person she was.

A few years he’d been back and he knew her better than all of them put together, “so,” he started, moving to perch on the edge of Faye’s desk when they reached her office “what’s our plan of action love?”

Faye had worked at the Ministry long enough - and garnered enough of a reputation - that most of the other long-time employees knew enough to get out of the way when they saw her coming. And even without her black cloak billowing behind her, and standing a literal head shorter than Fane, she cut an impressive and intimidating figure, dressed all in black - fire-resistant dragon-hide pants and boots, and a fitted top of the same material - with her blonde hair pulled back in a series of braids that kept it out of her way. The two together looked doubly intimidating. And if Faye’s general expression and body language didn’t deter someone from their path, Fane’s did.

On Faye’s part, the face she put on at work was an absolute necessity. Because any weakness, any vulnerability on her part can and would be used against her. Which was the main reason why she insisted that she and Fane keep their relationship professional when they were here. He was her weakness. The fewer people that knew that, the better. Though she was under no illusion that people didn’t whisper and gossip. Or that they didn’t suspect that they were more than just work partners.

It was lonely, pretending not to need anyone. And it ostracized her a fair bit. But she was damn good at her job, so that made up for it. And she had Fane besides. He was more than enough.

“Well, of course you do,” she snapped. Not at him, but at the general idiocy of her morning. “You’re not an imbecile.”

They entered her office, and Faye locked the door behind them as Fane hopped up on her desk. She tossed the list of wands on the pile of paperwork already sitting there, and moved off to the file cabinet on the back wall. “Well, until the wand department literally pulls their head out of their ass… and unless you can resurrect Olivander - joking, by the way,” she said as a distracted afterthought. “...looks like we’re doing our own digging.” She shuffled through a few files before finding the one she needed.

Coming over, she handed it to him. “How much do you know about Joyeuse? Local underground crime ring that fronts as a nightclub. They’ve got their hands in a bit of everything. Drugs - namely their own brand of E - racketeering, murder for hire, prostitution. You name it, they’ve got a piece of it. Including…” She flipped the file open and pointed at one page in particular. “... stolen wands. Among other things. Though they always come out clean somehow. Books and all.”

She grinned up at him. “Wanna crash a party?”

Weakness was a very technical and specific consideration, and though Fane would have been both pleased and utterly terrified to learn that he was Faye’s weakness (note, just as she was his) he wouldn’t have ultimately known what to do about it. So, like all things Fane didn’t like (or want) to think about he set it aside in the ‘things we don’t talk about’ area where almost all uncomfortable things ended up being put to rest until they really had to be confronted. Though there was also the consideration of the fact Faye’s so-called ‘rules’ Fane viewed more as guidelines which he was always curious to see how far they would bend before Faye gave in. A part of him knew it was childish, but could it be helped when so much of his own childhood had been so tainted and corrupted by darkness that he now tried to reclaim some of that now?

In his rather childish attempts to rile her up, or to push against her rules and stipulations with questions of why? Which in turn led to some rather interesting encounters that her desk and the backroom could likely testify to.

Brightened, despite the waspish attitude she had adopted Fane continued to trot alongside her grinning like the cat who had got the cream not that he had to say anything more than what he already had. Instead, he perched on her desk and swung his legs idly as Faye rummaged about detailing what they were going to do next. “Ooh, off the books, sneaky sneaky sort of stuff?” he waggled his brows clearly excited by this particular prospect.

Though as the file was handed over he flicked it open skimming the text and idly flipping over the surveillance photos pinned inside. “I’ve heard their name thrown about here and there,” not to say that Fane specifically may or may not have had a few run ins himself with them in the past. Narcotics were-- well, a thing he dabbled in which meant needing to be aware of the potential suppliers and their respective competition. Not that he brought that up right now. “Probably have informants to tip them off.” Still, he looked up at her with a chesire cat grin blooming across his lips “so long as we get to dress up ‘n’ have some fun while we’re there.”

The bare bones truth was that there wasn’t anything to be done about it. Fane was the one thing that Faye would lose all her good sense over when it came to protecting him. When it came to stopping anyone that would ever harm him again. Not that he needed it on most days mind. If anything, he needed protecting from himself more than any outside threat. From the harm he could do and not even realize it until he’d drank too much, smoked too long, or cut too deep. It was a fact that would never change. But it was also a fact that Faye knew could be used against her if anyone knew just how close they were… or just how much they meant to each other. It was one of the reasons that kept them in Muggle London more than Wizarding London when they went out together. Not always, as they weren’t truly trying to hide anything, but it was more an unspoken agreement that it was simply safer. For now.

Which is also why she kept up the snappish attitude at work, even with him. Though it wasn’t hard, considering the irritation that crept over her the moment she entered the lift most days. And honestly, if Fane hadn’t been there to buffer her, it would have been a thousand times worse.

Though when it came to Things We Don’t Discuss, Faye had her own chest of topics that was slam full. Fane being her weakness was only one of them. Her scars and the pain they caused was also there, though not buried quite as deep since Fane was completely in the know as far as that went, even when Faye denied it herself. Roger was in there, the bastard. Her Gram’s death. The life she’d put aside - marriage, family, children… - when she thought Fane was dead, because she couldn’t imagine it with anyone but him. The way she’d sought out muggle men for sex - violent, rough, degrading sex - as a way of coping with the pain of losing him and the pain of being so lonely. All that and more was in there, locked tight until, like Fane’s own, there was no avoiding the mess that overflowed.

But anyway…

His chiding playfulness was tolerable most days. Routine and familiar. Comforting even. And yes, Faye had rules about work that Fane more or less (emphasis on the ‘less’) respected. Though if she were honest, the fact that he tried so hard to break them nearly every single day - though thankfully even Fane knew when absolute seriousness was required - turned Faye on. The way he could work her up with merely a few well-placed words. Or the way he pushed and pushed and pushed until he hit the limits of her tolerance. And she tried, she really truly tried, but god-fucking- damn him he knew exactly what buttons to press to have her sound-proofing her office. Again.

“Sneaky, sneaky,” Faye nodded, handing over the file. He looked like an overgrown kid, sitting there swinging his legs as he waited. It was endearing, cute even. Though Faye wouldn’t dare call him ‘cute.’ At least not right now. Maybe later, when she wanted to push his own buttons a bit. Right now, they actually had work to do.

It didn’t surprise her that Fane was at least semi-familiar with the crime ring. She knew what sorts of things he kept hidden in his flat. The opium he didn’t even bother to hide anymore, and truth be told, Faye had been tempted to join him once or twice. The other things he kept more out of sight, as he was less prone to using them, though she knew he had them. And he knew she knew. But like everything else about him, Faye accepted it. She might not like it, but she took the bad with the good with the ugly. Because she loved him. And that would never ever change.

“Probably,” she nodded again. The grin he turned on her stirred the part of her that was always ready for action. The dueler. The Keeper. The adrenaline seeker. She grinned back, taking the file and closing it. “Guess we should do some shoppin’ then, hm? On the Ministry’s dime.”

Fane knew there were certain bits and pieces of contraband that if Faye snooped around his place too long and too thoroughly she might find, though most of the serious things were very deliberately kept in specific stashes away from prying eyes. Not that he particularly considered Faye prying eyes considering she’d seen some of his worse hobbies and still not kicked him to the curb all because she cared. She cared so much that it baffled him on some days when he sat down to try and even think through why she even felt that way because a part of him, even now, doubted he was worthy of it. Even with her efforts to show him otherwise it was a long and slippery road back to the belief he might truly be worth a fraction of anything to her because what did he have to offer?

A failed magical prodigy with an inclination for dabbling in narcotics of all sorts and a penchant for letting his emotions cloud his judgement to the point of disastrous outcomes. What sort of prospect did he really have to offer? Just as in the field he was a potential liability because of his brash attitude and inability to conjure a patronus. Fane could perform extreme feats of astounding wandless magic, but the simplistic act of conjuring a patronus as a form of defence? He’d never been able to do it and as a boy he’d been convinced it was just another sign of the truth. That there was nothing good inside of him. That he was crazy and set to end up on a dark and demented path like all the rest of his family.

Just a matter of time.

He’d seen the way people had looked at him, suspicion brewing around every corner and their judgement had helped to develop the barbed acerbic tongue with which he sometimes lashed out. Faye could curb it occasionally but other days? Other days there was nothing for it but to endure and know that something had likely triggered a particular outburst and that once he’d calmed it would be better. Faye knew that for the most part most if not all of his outbursts were but a momentary rage that would burn hot and fast before simmering out into something quieter and potentially more destructive if left alone. But now wasn’t a time for that. Now, Fane was curious about what they were going to get up to later.

Despite everything Fane could still be incredibly red-blooded, and the fact they would be getting to go undercover tonight? Oh he couldn’t wait. His lips curled into a devilish grin, no need to say anything for her to know his mind was already diving straight into the gutter. “Only if you promise to let me pick you out something pretty hm?”

Faye knew that Fane doubted himself sometimes. Doubted his worth. Doubted that he deserved kindness, or affection, or even love. But funny enough, she knew he didn’t doubt her. Didn’t doubt them. Merely whether or not he should be receiving everything that Faye gave him. Or wanted to give him in the future. Faye doubted herself sometimes too. Though not to the extremes that Fane’s psyche - his past and the horrors he’d experienced - took him to. Though she never doubted him. Even in his darkest times, which had lessened over the last couple of years, she never doubted his love for her. Nor did she ever lose the absolute trust she had in him. He pissed her off. He infuriated her. He made her want to strangle him. (And she was sure she did the same to him). But she also wanted to spend her life with him. Nothing would ever change that.

She knew what people said about him. The whispers that floated around the Ministry. Around the city too. Death Eater. Traitor. Sadist. Murderer. Mentally unstable. All manner of things that no one had the courage to say to his face. Or Faye’s. And for the most part they were ignored. Faye didn’t believe them. Though she knew the history of Fane’s family as well as anyone else in their world. But history was full of lies and deceit. People saw what they wanted to see. And people always wanted a villian. Someone to blame for the bad things that were happening.

But like Hell would Faye let anything like that land on Fane. Let them dare try. It would be the absolute last thing they ever did that didn’t require eating through a straw.

There were good days and bad days, just like anything else. And while the majority of those in her own department - save the idiotic few, like Roger - had come to know Fane and were decent towards him (though whether that was out of fear or actual respect was something to be determined), outside the Auror office it was a different story. And on the bad days, Faye left work with a splitting headache. From trying to keep the peace. From trying to keep her partner from getting fired. And herself from getting written up. But there were days… few and far between… where Faye simply said fuck it and let him do as he wished. Because nothing she could do - short of hexing him out of his mind - was going to stop him. It was like letting steam out of a kettle. You had to, or the whole thing would explode in your face.

Though a low-burning fire was much less noticable than a blazing inferno. And it was those quiet, brooding days she had to watch even more closely sometimes than the days when he was in a fit of pique. Because there was no telling how they would go.

But right now he was happy, even if this was a work thing. And that made Faye grin just as wide, a mischevious look in her eyes. She pulled a MoM Gringott’s Platinum Card out of her pocket, holding it out to him with two fingers. “Pretty… and just a little bit slutty…”

The rumours, the whispers they would always be there it just-- was what it was. The whispers and murmurings behind his back had been ongoing since he was eleven years old and he’d been dropped in the middle of an unfamiliar group of people in a country and language he barely had a grasp of. Since then he’d never truly quite fitted in as he should have, but he did his best to try. Even if by the end of his first year year he’d been in tears over the thought of being insane when he could hear the voices in the walls. Something he’d never told anyone for fear of adding further fuel to the rumour mill of why he was at Hogwarts and not at Durmstrang. Some said he’d been kicked out, others said he wasn’t good enough and some said he’d been expelled. Making friends had been hard, and the bright-eyed child so interested in going to school had already begun to grow disillusioned with the concept instead already coming to terms with the idea of just going well ahead and trying to teach himself.

Which, fundamentally was what he’d gone and done (this further spurred on by the ineptitude of Lockhart's teaching) but at eleven he’d not been emotionally or mentally stable enough to truly deal with those things. Explaining why more often than not he’d sought out the counsel of his older sister through letters mostly due to the fact that she had ended up being educated at Beauxbatons (another of the oddities in the family though she was in her final year and set to graduate with top marks). Though there was the fact that none of the family talked about how she was better at healing than she was at the darker things that their family typically excelled in. Though having a healer wasn’t an atrociously horrendous thing to boot. Mostly though he’d been left to his own devices and coping mechanisms and been void of family beyond holidays until Erich’s unfortunate arrival at Hogwarts a few years later.

His siblings, despite the rumours and pressure of their parents weren’t bad people. They weren’t, but they also weren’t sure how to stand on their own beyond the controlling pressure of their mother and father’s thumbs meaning that Alexa, Ivan, Christina had all been drafted into the ranks. Had all fought for the honour of their family for the Dark Lord and if Fane hadn’t been so resiliently stubborn… He very easily could have gone the same way. But he hadn’t seen them in as long as he’d seen Faye… And where they were, Fane didn’t know nor did he wish to know considering if his mother had ended up in Azkaban… by his own doing no less… He didn’t particularly want to face his siblings or their respective judgement wherever they were they were better off staying there if they could help it.

As the card was proffered Fane plucked it nimbly from her fingers, “wonderful” he all but purred at the idea of getting to dress her. “ Oh baby, tonight’s going to be so much fun… Are you going to pick my outfit too?” Seems only fair, and considering how rare it was to let happen Fane was willing to extend some leeway to her on this. Why not? It might just be fun. With a nod he turned for the door. No time to waste after all.

Faye remembered Fane well from when they were children. How could she not? They were thick as thieves for the most part. Until they weren’t. He was awkward, shy, completely unsure of everything even though he was infinitely curious, and he talked different. But in an interesting way. Or so her eleven year old self had thought. Though even now, she loved the traces of his native accent that broke through at times. Warm and rough and thick. Get him talking to her like that and Faye melted.

But anyway… as kids Faye had immediately wondered about this odd transfer student, and knowing what it felt like to be a bit of an outsider (a half-blood Slytherin wasn’t all that common, after all, back then. Nowadays it was seen more often) she had plopped down next to him at breakfast, introduced herself, and proceeded to take his last sausage when he shook his head that he wasn’t going to eat it (after she asked, of course). The rest was history.

And while some things had changed - Fane himself, Faye, their mannerisms and the way they approached the world, among so many others - the whispers had never stopped. Faye had stopped listening a long time ago though. Practically the time they started. Because she knew Fane. Better than most anyone. It was all lies and fear mongering anyway. With the things that had been happening then. And especially with the things happening now. The murders. The Morsmordre. They did somewhat coincide with Fane’s return, but that meant nothing. If anything, Fane had tried to avoid all of it. He was only here as a liaison because Faye had asked him to be. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have involved himself at all.

As for Fane’s family, Faye honestly didn’t know much about them. Other than the truths she’d learned about his brother and the circumstances surrounding his death. She knew he had more siblings, but not their names or what they did. She knew his mother had stood with the Dark Lord, and remembered the last time she’d ever seen him… dueling her in a cloud of smoke and rubble. After that… there hadn’t been much talk about their families, other than telling him her Gram had passed away. And Faye didn’t pry. If he wanted to tell her, he would.

Right now though, he was grinning down at her. And she loved to see him smile. “You trust me with your wardrobe?” she grinned back, slightly unbelieving. But when he didn’t protest, her grin broadened. “Well, alright then. I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Let’s go…” She snagged him by the lapels and tugged him towards the door. They had a party to crash.

“You like pink, right?”

If they had been muggles no doubt they’d have been wired up with radios or used their mobiles to stay in contact, but by now Faye and Fane both were too used to the magical solution to mundane issues such as ranged communication. Fane wearing a new ring that glimmered on his finger, charmed to pick up his communications if needs be without being able to see where Faye was. As much fun as he could have tonight, they had a job to do even if Fane was already itching to enjoy himself as they approached the familiar entrance to Joyeuse. Fane had done as promised and let Faye pick out his outfit and admittedly she hadn’t done a half-bad job by his standards, even if it wasn’t something he’d so commonly opt for. Though it wasn’t as if he could complain considering the number she was in made him struggle to even think coherently about anything beyond pinning her up against something and having his way with her. Which was an almost hourly thought as it was.

Still, as much as there were things he wanted and more of the like inside (he’d been here a couple of times in the past), tonight wasn’t about having fun-- it was about trying to get a break in their case… Sigh. Taking a moment to smooth down his shirt before they got to work on their latest joint mission. “You ready?” he asked as they walked down the seemingly plain dead-end alleyway towards no apparent destination that is until they reached a door set into the wall with a chic neon light that lit the nearby alleyway. Once they were inside it would be a matter of finding the head woman and from there convince her to give up the stolen wands they may be in possession of here. Failing that, it would involve a direct breaking and entering situation into her office and several issues stood between them and that particular goal.

Hopefully, if they got this break it would mean the both of them may be let off a little. The pressure had been high for so long that it had all but consumed their lives and where once there had been a distinction between work and home now the both blended together inseparably. Not something Fane appreciated. Even with how much this case meant to Faye (to the both of them really but Fane liked to tell himself this was all because Faye cared so much about this damn case), it didn’t mean he had to like it. It had eaten into time that was once his, time that he’d been free to spend doing other things and frankly this line of work, though he didn’t like to admit it, had dragged a whole lot of dark and bleak memories into the light more often than not. As good as it felt to put bad people away there was no changing how blatantly hypocritical Fane felt doing so regardless of what Faye said or not on the matter.

Glancing to the poster that served as the entrance he gave a nod before raising a fist and rapping a short pattern out on the wall, there was a long pause not that Fane seemed fazed, maintaining an air of casual appearance about him. Eventually though, as he expected the bricks formerly making up a solid wall morphed into an ornate black door gilded with silver and a calligraphic J emblazoned in purple and silver. Meanwhile the sound of a set of locks and gears grinding echoed from behind the gradual appearance of the door and Fane raised a brow at Faye flashing her a little grin. Alright, who’s to say they couldn’t have a little fun whilst they were here? They had all night after all.

Faye didn’t dress like this often. Usually only when she was trying to distract herself with a muggle man. Even then, considering the places she would frequent, she’d never dress this fancy. Fane had picked out a dress that was exactly what she’d asked for: pretty, but a little slutty. Not something she would normally wear, but then again they were supposed to be semi-under cover. Though if Faye were honest, the promise of just a little bit of fun made her anxious to get inside. She knew this case was starting to consume their lives. And try as she might - and she honestly did try - it was bleeding over into their personal time. Case files on her kitchen table, notepads and pictures littering the desk in Fane’s library. Research and maps of London and dossiers of ex-Death Eaters still alive… it was overwhelming.

And Faye knew Fane was feeling the strain, just as she was. Which is part of why she indulged his whims whenever he asked for anything, no matter what it was lately. Food, alcohol, sex… even the the day trip or evening here and there… not that she ever turned him down, but lately she’d tried as best she could to show him how much she appreciated him. Because truth be told, she was so close to a break… and part of the reason she wanted it so badly - other than the obvious - was so they could rest. Just for a couple of weeks. She had felt more tired the last few days than she could ever really remember. Tired, clumsy, snappish… more annoyed than usual. She had even found herself dozing off at her desk once or twice, which never happened. So they needed this. For themselves. As well as the people it would save.

Faye waited patiently alongside Fane, her stiletto pumps giving her a couple more inches that she didn’t usually have. But she still only stood shoulder high to him. She’d never been here before, but she knew of the place. Very chic. Very glam. Very upscale. And very, very expensive. Especially when one knew how to find the club’s… extra amenities. Drugs, sex, gambling… Faye knew it was here. As did Fane, she was certain.

As the way opened up, she glanced at him and grinned back. The way closed behind them as they went inside and down the hallway lit with a deep purple glow. It turned several corners, the color of the lights changing as they passed, and Faye had a sneaking feeling they were being scanned by something. They would have to be cautious.

Though as they finally stepped out into the club itself - a large, chic interior in a theme of neon purples and the like colors, along with stone, marble, and glass - Faye’s eyebrows raised. “Alright, I’m impressed,” she said to Fane, glancing up at him again. He was grinning like a cat, his eyes bright and full of excitement. “Hey,” she said, giving him a bump. “Work first… play later, hm?” she told him. Because she knew that look. Very, very well.

Fane knew it wasn’t often or all too common for him to be able to get her out of her dragon-hide leather work attire (at least not in the sense of seeing her wearing other clothes), he could get her out of them just fine, but that was besides the point. Tonight, while technically a chance to move their case forwards was the first time in what felt like aeons since he’d gone out for a night on the town except this one involved staying remotely more sober (unfortunately). But he could only hope that a break in the case would mean that maybe, just maybe they might just be able to have a bit of a break or reprieve. Unlikely, but he could hope at least. Faye indulged his requests, though even the times to be able to request anything were growing slimmer with how many things they had to research and work on between them. To the point that if Fane was being honest he was feeling a bit deprived of just… life.

Spending fifteen years living on his own whim, beholden to no laws or regulations beyond those he set for himself (which were few and very, very far between) meant it was a struggle more often than not to toe the line that the Ministry set. Not to mention the restrictions this… job? Liaison position… Whatever it was set in terms of the hours he helped out, though that was all because of Faye as well. Frankly Fane was losing it a little and the more the energy was stored the more destructive and disruptive it became. Combine this with Faye’s own attitude and it generally made for some snappish moments between them.

Despite the price bracket of the establishment they were walking into Fane, having been here occasionally had certain methods of greasing the wheels so to speak. Not to mention the fact his card could do a fair bit of persuasion itself. Once the door appeared and they walked down the staircase into the corridor, Faye holding on to his arm as they wound round and deeper into the facility he moved smoothly a nonchalance presented about him as though nothing could faze him. “You should be-- this is one of the best clubs in the city,” he said above the pounding bassline.

The reverberation of bass grew heavier the nearer they got to the central floor and Fane could feel the music travelling through him no doubt magically infused to encourage attendees to dance and drink the night (and their money away). He wasn’t immune, and already he felt inclined to seek out the bar now they were in the central area. His eyes surveyed the crowds picking out the frankly gorgeous women (lacking just the right amount clothing), not to mention there being absolutely no shortage of attractive men too, both serving to be draw his eye equally. But Faye’s bump drew him back to the glum reality that they weren’t here to have fun, blinking he glanced aside at her looking rather more sour now but ultimately sighed in resignation. “Fine,” he drew the word out with a small roll of his eyes which were admittedly drawn to a few people passing items between them in the crowds. He had an eye for things like that. “But that better be promise…” he gave her a look that said he was not joking on this particular matter, “where do we start?”

Faye enjoyed dressing up. As much as the dragon-hide and leather suited her job and the persona she tried so hard to maintain at the Ministry and while on duty, that wasn’t who she really was. Not at her core. The moment she stepped inside her home, she was stripping out of it and leaving it all in a heap in the foyer. Usually after wearing it for a good twelve hours. Fane had tripped over it more than once, to his complete annoyance. Though if she was undressing at Fane’s, she tried to keep things tidy. Unless she was just completely exhausted. She didn’t want him cleaning up after her, and knew he didn’t like mess. But her own house was different. It was usually messy anyway, more so lately with all the overtime she’d been working. Though Scratch enjoyed them very much, finding the sweaty dragonhide exactly to his liking. He also made sure to glare at Fane with disdain if he just so happened to have his face ears-deep in Faye’s boot when Fane tripped over the pile of discarded clothes. As if Fane did it on purpose just to offend his feline sensibilities.

But tonight there wasn’t an inch of dragonhide to be found between them. Faye’s wand was strapped to her thigh beneath her dress as there was no other place to conceal it. Not that they needed to hide them, this being a Wizarding club, but Faye hardly wanted hers in plain sight unless she was going to use it. Parts of being an Auror would never leave her, it seemed. And while she knew some wandless magic, she still wanted it within reach should she actually need it. Fane had the luxury of being much more proficient at wandless, though it wasn’t a fact he publicized.

The club was packed to the gills. A sea of bodies moved on the dance floor, illuminated by the neon lights overhead and the dozens of floating orbs that moved and circled them, flashing to the beat of the music. Smoke flowed over the floor here and there, and a thin cloud hung in the air. She could smell the sulfur of magic, and the mix of a hundred different perfumes and colognes, the sweet smell of alcohol as they passed the bar. She also caught a whif of other things, glancing at Fane who she was sure had noticed as well. It was a literal sensory overload.

“Better be, for the prices,” she said, though there was a tinge of humor in her voice. She knew Fane could care less about money, and for the most part she’d stopped arguing with him about it. It was futile. He had it, and he was going to spend it as he saw fit. Of the problems they encountered on a daily basis, Fane’s financial situation was low on the list. Besides, tonight it could go a long way to flash a Platinum Card to the right person. Money talks, after all.

Faye’s eyes scanned the crowd as well, though unlike Fane, she was looking for familiar faces, not attractive ones. The case files had mugshots of most of the people that worked for the syndicate, and while Faye doubted they would be milling about the regular crowd, she had to look.

Fane’s petulant look didn’t escape her, but she trusted him to keep to the plan. Which honestly, they really hadn’t talked about much past Find the Boss. “I promise. Work… then fun, okay?” She looked past him to the crowded bar, watching with a trained eye as money exchanged hands for more than just alcohol. “Why don’t you start by working your charm on the bartender? See if he knows anything? I’ll make my way round the other side, see if I spot any familiar faces. I’ll come find you in twenty?”

And she moved off, snagging a tall flute of something bubbly - purely for looks, as she wasn’t drinking tonight - from a passing tray as she disappeared into the crowd.

Fane’s body naturally gravitated towards the bar, though Faye’s presence kept him from walking off for the moment and instead he swayed a little on the spot to the heavy bass. This wasn’t everyone’s scene but there was something he found particularly enjoyable about getting lost in the crowds and just being one of many in a room out to have a good time. He could also detect the familiar odour of some of the other activities he dabbled in on occasion; common by all standards in a place like this and his eyes naturally sought out the directions from which all these different sources of information and stimuli drifted from.

“You say that is if you’ve never been to a place like this,” he commented as he trailed after her (having to raise his voice so that she could hear him over the music). Money had been something he’d had to work to acquire and not all his dealings and pay offs had been entirely legal but of course, Fane was sure to keep all books and records clean. Plus when dabbling in the antiques and rare items acquisition trade it meant large sums were often transferred in single transactions across the world and if you knew what you were doing without paper trails. Not to mention a lifetime brewing and studying magic and potions respectively had lended him to being a dab hand in both departments when he wanted. Felix Felicis although tremendously hard to brew and incredibly dangerous if made incorrectly had been the source of major winnings in a few of his visits to some of the high-brow casinos around the world. Considering Fane’s attempts to stay off the radar utilising alias after alias it was hardly surprising he’d ultimately come to acquire a mass of wealth. He was smart and seized every opportunity presented even if he could occasionally be considered reckless and a tad unstable.

Temptation was in his nature but could similarly be his downfall.

Right now he was well aware he had to make a decision. To give in to the countless temptations or to have Faye’s back, and as much as he was inclined to give in to the prior the latter naturally overruled his wishful thinking. Still, Faye’s agreement softened some of the petulance displayed in his attitude. Still, as she directed him over to the bar his eyes travelled in that particular direction. “Make it fifteen hm?” better to be safe considering they weren’t on home territory right now. With that said Fane lightly touched her waist before letting her go and cutting his way smoothly through the crowds with a practised and relaxed ease until he arrived at the bar with a grin. Best to get the evening underway.

“Haven’t,” Faye said distractedly. “Unlike some, I don’t have a Platinum Card to get me in. And I can get drunk for free at home.” She didn’t mean it in a condescending way, simply as a statement of fact. Faye wasn’t destitute, but neither was she rich. An Auror’s salary wasn’t as great as some might think, though her promotion a few years back, along with her experience (and ‘War Hero’ status, whether she liked it or not) earned her a decent yearly boost. Her Gram had left her the house, which was paid for, and a small sum of money as a nest egg (for what, Faye no idea at the time, all things considered). So she was comfortable.

And Fane was… very comfortable. She knew in part how he had come about his fortune. He’d told her bits and pieces here and there over the last couple of years. But there were also things Faye didn’t want to know. Because what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt anyone. And times being what they were, she didn’t want to take that chance. So she let him be as far as money was concerned.

Faye raised her glass over her head to indicate that she heard him as she walked off. Fifteen minutes. That didn’t give her that much time, considering the size of the place. “Comms check,” she said as the crowd closed in around her. The music thumped in her chest, and Faye felt the magic pushing her to dance, to drink, to do anything but keep scanning the crowd for the faces of their marks. Here and there someone would try to pull her in, slinking an arm around her waist and sometimes even managing to spin her in a circle before she broke loose. She kept a grin on her face as she avoided most of them, and managed - mostly - not to spill her drink.

Halfway around and about seven minutes in, Faye had just avoided the sticky grasp of a young man with electric blue hair, watching with relief as someone else pulled him away and back into the crowd of bodies, when her internal photo gallery lit up. The man was tall, towering over most of the dancers, and he moved through the crowd with an air of purpose. Faye watched, gaze fixed on his dark hair and the distinctive tattoos on his massive forearms, as he stopped to talk to someone before moving on.

Before he could disappear, Faye pressed into the crowd, pushing through the dancers as she tried to keep the man’s head in sight through the fog and the flashing lights. Her hand fell to her thigh, feeling the familiar shape of her wand secured there. She hoped not to need it, but you could never be too careful.

“I’ve got one,” she said into the comm. “Looks like it’s her head of security, Boris. I’m following.”

Boris turned left through the perimeter of the crowd. Faye did too. She circled wide, keeping him in sight, and as she drew close enough to see that it was indeed the man she thought it was, she made it a point to run right into him.

“Oh… I’m… I’m so sorry,” she said, pretending to be quite drunk. “Some… asshole-” She slung her drink in a wide arch, spilling more of it over the side. “- pushed me. Into you.” Faye tapped him on his huge barrel chest with one finger, grinning up at him. Jesus he was huge. “And you… don’t look like… an asshat. Hole. Asshole.” She snickered at herself, swaying a bit.

Boris raised a large black eyebrow at the unexpected placement of a pretty woman in his path, calculated whether or not it was worth it to have a little fun - he had been working all night after all. Breaking up fights and confiscating drugs that weren’t house made - before expertly plucking the glass out of Faye’s hand and sending it floating aside. When in Rome. right?

“Let me fix that for you.” He replaced Faye’s mostly empty glass with a different one that was fizzy and blue, and smoked ever so faintly. “Here you go… good as new and twice as fun.” Sliding an arm around her shoulder, he continued walking, but much to Faye’s chagrin, didn’t try and enter the door she knew would most likely lead somewhere important. Instead, he steered her in another direction, towards another door. This one didn’t have guards.

“Sounds like you’ve had quite a night, love,” Boris said, placing his hand flat on the door. It shimmered and disappeared under his touch, and he steered Faye inside. “Let me fix that for you. You deserve it, after the time you’ve had.” The inital space was a rectangular room, sparse except for a curtained doorway on either side, and a figure in a mask that stood behind a small floating table in the center. Boris paid the figure no attention, choosing the hallway to the left. It was long and narrow, and glowed with a soft red light. A haze of smoke hung in the air, and along the way there other hallways that led off from the main. Most had doors at the end, others had what looked like sections that were curtained off every so often.

The sounds that drifted from these particular sections didn’t go amiss with Faye. She knew sex when she heard it. Well, looks like she’d found one of the clubs private areas.

“Go on… drink up. I promise your night’ll get much better after that.” Boris’s sweaty arm still hung around her shoulders. The tattoos she knew so well from his pictures in her casefile on blatant display. Like Hell Faye was taking the first sip of anything he’d given her. More than likely it was laced with something.

So she pretended like she didn’t hear him. “Ohh, this is… this is nice. Is this for VIPs? Am I your VIP tonight?” Faye asked, hating herself for having to play the ditz. But if it got them what they needed.

Boris grinned. “You sure are, love. You sure are.” That was when Faye felt a prick at the back of her arm. “Ow!” she said, and snatched away. But whatever it was had already started working. Faye’s vision swam. The glass fell from her hand, and while she didn’t pass out, she felt herself going slack. Only Boris’ arm still held her up.

“Ah ah… no fallin’ down now. I want you awake for this, pretty one. Been a long time since I had me a blonde...” Boris pulled her into one of the curtained off alcoves, settling her back on the large sofa that took up most of the space. The curtain closed, and he loomed over her. There was the sound of his belt coming undone.

Faye blinked at him, finding it so very hard to stay awake - what had he drugged her with? - even as she saw him pull his half-hard cock out of his trousers. He started tugging on it, standing over Faye and looking down at her with an expression that would have frightened her if she hadn’t seen it so many times before. She knew what he intended.

But she also knew that Fane had just heard every word.

“You gonna smile like that when I fuck you, love?” Boris said, getting more worked up now. He tugged harder and faster on his prick. Apparently, Faye’s expression was doing it for him.

“Not me… that’s ‘bout to get… fucked…” she managed to say. Thirty seconds was all she needed… twenty-nine… twenty-eight...

After they went their separate ways, Fane slid through the crowd and as Faye spoke the magic crackled in his ear and he heard her as clearly as if she was stood right here with him in that moment and not as though she was half-way across the crowded nightclub. “Got you loud ‘n’ clear love,” he answered as he approached the bar leaning up against it and flashing a coy smile at the young guy behind the bar. Enough to get his attention, and once he finished serving he was moving down the bar closer to where Fane stood curious interest alight in his eyes. Untainted from what Fane could tell, but appearances could be deceiving and plus it had been a long time since he’d been allowed such free reign. Why not enjoy himself in the process.

“What can I get for you?” his dusty-blond hair was tousled and his sapphire blue eyes reflected the pulsing neon lights enticingly, no doubt he saw plenty of action with looks like those. Not the easiest of targets, but since when did Fane like an easy target?

For a moment Fane took his time, deliberately letting his eyes trail the man’s features and down before raising once more. Fane’s grin grew just a fraction more impish his eyes scanning down the bar and back again. “Impress me handsome, let’s see how good your aviations are.”

He’d been enjoying the conversation, flirtation (and drink) when Fane’s warning crackled in his ear. Glancing subtly in the last direction he’d seen her, not that he did expect to see her Fane returned to the conversation he’d been having. He’d managed to get Tyler away from the busier aspects of the bar, a few well-placed comments and soft flirtations to stroke his ego just enough to bring about that familiar glow that radiated from people who were starting to feel appreciated. To feel as if they were special, and Fane’s voice and words dripped molten-honey. Just the right amount of teasing and lure to leave whoever was on the receiving end intrigued about what else he might have in store.

“And then-- This guy, he tells me he’ll be five minutes and he never comes back, talk about a bad start to the night” Fane chuffed with a shake of his head. Though it was at this moment that Faye’s conversation began to filter through and he had to focus on what he was saying and paying attention. “And you know what, I think I deserve better.”

Tyler, who had been listening and nodding sympathetically took a sip of his drink liquid confidence making him more inclined to reach out just enough so his fingers brushed Fane’s as he refilled his glass. “Well, how about I clock off early and we think about changing your luck?”

“Hm?” Fane had momentarily been distracted by the continued conversation going on in his ear, not that he felt jealous but a protective urge overcame him to make sure Faye was alright. “Oh-- I wouldn’t want to rush, where’s the fun in cutting to the chase?” but it was exactly at this moment that Faye’s cry echoed out and all consideration for the charade he’d been playing up faded away to the pinpoint focus of whatever was happening to Faye right now. Fane blinked, as though reconsidering “you know what? Maybe you’re right” he knocked back the drink leaned over the counter to hook a finger into Tyler’s black suspenders and pull him forwards with a slight thud enough to plant a teasing kiss to his lips. “Now--” he breathed before leaning back and fishing out his card “why don’t you show me where we can go to have a good night together hm?”

The barista was clearly surprised but not regretting the change in the pace of the night, immediately set about clocking off his till before breezing around. A small head nod was enough to get Fane to follow him letting Tyler grip his lapel and tug him along and for the sake of his cover slid closer an arm slipping around his waist. They passed a couple of corridors until they arrived at a large rectangular room, in one direction a red hazy corridor and the other lit purple. Internally Fane cringed, but paying attention to his other senses drew him to steer them left. It was just as they were passing one alcove a familiar voice echoed through the curtain and Fane knew what he’d have to do, a kiss and quick stupefy later had him lowering Tyler to the floor. “Sorry mate-- no hard feelings yeah?”

With that said along with a silencing charm on the area Fane used Boris’ current distraction to his advantage, he tugged back the curtain and casting a quick set of charms in quick succession to immobilise, bind and gag that by now was almost second-nature he’d used it that many times. For-- more than just these particular activities, as Faye knew well enough by now. He tsked under his breath the calm disposition he presented masking the wildfire of rage that was simmering through his veins right there and then. “So much for being caught with your trousers down,” Fane muttered more to himself before he slid into the alcove frowning as he rested a knee on the couch gently pushing Faye’s hair back and holding her face. “You’re alright-- I’m here,” he murmured before patting down his pockets one-handedly for a small vial which once he found it, he tipped straight into her mouth and tipped her head back to get her to swallow. “It’ll take a little bit for you to feel better… Just wait for it.”

In the meantime, well, Fane had a lesson to teach. His eyes dropped to where Boris’ cock hung out of his trousers, unimpressed, and his eyes shifted to a glint of metal on the security’s belt which had been discarded nearby. “My my, we shouldn’t leave sharp things like this around…” he remarked as he fetched the blade, gripping it in his palm the blade gleaming wickedly in the low red-haze that filled the room lifting it he let the tip catch the skin of the man’s splitting it with the barest amount of pressure making Boris huff. “There might just be an accident--” and oh did Fane enjoy the glimmer of fear that he saw rise in the other man’s eye, “mhm, yes… That’s right...”

Boris had just bent over, tugging at the top of Faye’s dress and pawing at what was underneath when the curtain behind him slid open. She had heard Fane’s entire conversation in her ear, and had she been able, she would have rolled her eyes at the ease with which the bartender has succumbed. Though there was the tiniest bit of jealousy there too, but it passed soon enough. There was the warm rush of familiar magic and the shadow of Boris fell away with a heavy thud. Faye blinked again, the dim light making it hard for her swimmy vision to focus. Whatever was in her system was potent. Probably a house mix, like everything else.

She huffed, trying to move but finding her limbs heavy, as Fane knelt next to her and poured something that tasted terrible into her mouth. She coughed, but swallowed as he helped her. Already, she could feel the antidote working, but it was going to take a minute or two for the full effects to kick in. But she was aware enough to watch Fane as he moved off towards Boris. The man was still wide awake, but completely immobilized. She coughed again, seeing the glint of a blade as Fane picked it up off the seat.

“His file says… he likes cuttin’ up… girls…” Faye said between coughing spells. “Was that… gonna be before… or after… you raped me?” This was directed at Boris. Her eyes slid to Fane, and she saw the outer calm that was covering up something far more frightening. Boris made a small panicked sound as Fane’s hand moved where she couldn’t see. “Don’t…” But she was seized by another coughing fit, though she managed to push herself more upright this time.

To his credit, Boris looked surprised as he looked to Faye. As if she was somehow - by what she was about to say… - going to save him. But then her coughing subsided.

“Don’t… kill him. Paperwork’s… a nightmare…”

Boris made another high-pitched sound that seemed like he was begging Fane not to hurt him. A series of incomprehensible sounds followed. And most nights, on a regular sting, she would have pulled the plug on what Fane was doing real quick, arrested the guy, and been done with it.

But this sleazebag had drugged her, assaulted her, and he had been planning to rape and possibly mutilate her. She wasn’t feeling very generous. So Fane got a pass tonight. If Boris didn’t bleed out later, he would be much more cautious about who he put his hands on in the future.

So tonight, Faye simply turned her head away, sliding over a bit. Because blood would never come out of this dress.

Fane grimaced at what Faye managed to say about the man he had fully immobilised at his mercy the distaste plain to see in his eyes and in the way he eyed the other man. There was a slight downwards tilt to his chin as he studied Boris, like he was internally debating something and idly the blade was tapped against his palm with the careful precision of someone willing to take all their time about making this particular decision. “Is that right?” when he spoke, his voice was measured and quiet but lacked no doubt of lofty seriousness despite the quiet-nature of it. The calm before the storm as the saying went.

But as Faye started to say something else his head turned fractionally in her direction, waiting for the coughing fit to pass and ignoring the security man at his feet. “Pfft,” he sounded unamused “he deserves it,” but if Faye didn’t want him dead well, that didn’t mean Fane couldn’t do other things to him… Did it? His lips twisted a fraction and his eyes lit with something dark as he drifted a step closer once more twisting the blade idly a grin appearing on his lips as Boris squeaked and tried so very hard to wriggle away. “You know,” Fane said as he crouched down reaching out to grip Boris’ lapels and yank him closer “it’d be more fun if I could let you go… Hunt you down, it’d be much-- much more satisfying… All that blood pumping… Don’t you think?” Satisfaction rose in him as he saw the fear bleeding into the hulking man’s eyes, “not used to being vulnerable are you? My, how the tables have turned hm?”

Boris made a few more muffled sounds against the gag stuffing his mouth, something that might just have sounded like please, please no.

Not that it served as a deterrent, with a smooth and almost clinical precision Fane reached out and gripped the other man’s half-hard cock in a vice-like grip making Boris whimper. Pulling it taut Fane brought the blade down; Boris howled in anguish, tears flowing down his face as the heavy metallic scent of blood filled the cubicle and a few hacks later Fane was done. “Maybe you’ll think about what you do with your life now hm? That is… If someone finds you before you bleed out here,” magicing the gag away he used his fingers to pry Boris’ mouth open shoving the bloody remains of his genitals down his throat making him gag and splutter. “Karma dickface,” he muttered wiping off his hand on Boris’ shirt before getting up mindful of the pool of blood seeping out over the floor his attention going to Faye his face and clothes smattered in red. “Can you walk?”

Faye knew exactly what would happen if she told Fane who Boris was. What sort of things the tattooed henchman had done. Especially now that he had planned to do them to Faye? Because as much as the two of them might not talk about the lengths they would go to for each other, they knew. In that strange way they had always known certain things about each other. For her part, there was nothing that Faye wouldn’t do if it meant keeping Fane safe. Keeping him alive. Keeping him sane. And she knew the reverse was true. So she didn’t hesitate in telling him about the man now begging for his life on the sofa.

Because Boris should be behind bars in Azkaban, but they’d simply never been able to hold him because of some stupid technicality or loophole. That, and his employer paying his bail nearly faster than the Auror office could process him. Which told Faye he was valuable. So Faye took responsibility for every word that came out of her mouth. But she also pulled her wand and cast a concealment charm just in case someone was watching. As Fane went about making sure Boris would never have to worry about standing up to piss ever again - among other things - Faye slid to the side. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest as whatever Fane had given her did it’s job. She felt herself becoming clearer, more aware, as the haze of the drug wore off.

By the time she was mostly back to rights, Fane had finished and was standing over her again. She looked up at him, the blood that had sprayed his face and suit nothing but streaks and spots of blackness in the dim light. Her belly twisted slightly, and she felt the familiar dichotomy of feelings rise up inside her. One revelled in the fact that an evil man had gotten what he deserved; because even as an Auror, someone meant to uphold the law, Faye knew that the law didn’t always win. That the bad guy got away more often than not. And in this particular case, Faye was itching for someone to pay. That Boris’ crimes had nothing to do with their case didn’t matter. It was payout.

Another part of her grew tight with worry. For Fane. For how he had allowed this part of himself to come to the surface. If she had been more careful… “I’m alright,” she told him, standing up to look him over. “Are you?” A finger to his jaw turned his head one way and then the other as she inspected him, looking into his eyes as a last check-in.

“Hold still,” Faye said gently. She siphoned the worst of the blood off him, and straightened the front of his suit. “Good?”

There was nothing much more for it, Fane dropped the blade ( totally not deliberately letting it land in Boris’ thigh) making him squeal and cry out even if the sounds were muffled entirely now. No ounce of sympathy or mercy reflected in his features, only pure righteous wrath and pleasure at being the hand to serve the swift cut of justice right here and now. Some might even describe the glint in his eyes as a touch mad and if they didn’t know him, in that moment they might even go so far as to say he was almost a younger imitation of the late Dark Lord learning and experimenting with his inner darkness to see what suited him best due to the sheer casual ease with which he conducted the almost presentational display of Boris’ mutilation. It also likely clarified that this was not the first thing like this that he’d done in his lifetime.

Not to mention the fact a deep, dark, twisted part of him in his soul and psyche respectively felt a glimmer of pleasure and satisfaction at dealing out this punishment. He should’ve been ashamed, to give into such urges but there was something about this control that made him feel powerful and as if in this instance he could do almost anything he wanted. He felt warm, and adrenaline shot through his veins leaving him agitated and right on the edge of something more.

But soon enough it was over, and Fane’s entire attention and being was directed away from what he’d just done, what he wanted to do with that and instead turned onto Faye. Only for her would he even consider stopping, simmering back the darker impulses chomping at the bit to take hold and had she not been here then Boris would have likely ended up far more mutilated than he had been until he was hanging right on the brink of existence. Just at that point before Fane would have snuffed him out entirely from existence without a second thought or hesitation. The worry lining her features didn’t go amiss, but a part of him idly wondered why it was there. Nothing was wrong, she wasn’t hurt, perhaps a little rattled but he’d gotten here… He’d gotten to her. So her question into his well-being perplexed him slightly, though her touch on his skin in the state he currently was in did nothing to help the thoughts racing through his brain. “I’m fine,” he said simply stretching out his neck and pulling his jaw slowly from her grasp knowing that if he touched her right this moment he wouldn’t be liable for what he ended up doing.

Instead, Fane shifted to one side letting Faye pull the blood from his clothes and skin and a grin was service to answer her question. “Sublime…” pausing to pick out Boris’ card he wagged a purple and black keycard with a grin “fancy heading upstairs?”

Faye was of the mind that if she didn’t actually see what Fane was doing, she could deny it until the cows came home. Plausible deniability. So she kept her face turned away, no matter what she heard. The words, ‘No sir, I never saw him do anything to anyone,’ playing in the back of her mind. And Faye would say them and feel no shame. Because it was the truth. Technically. But anyway…

It was done, and he was standing over her letting her see to him, if only briefly, and with a slightly confused expression. Because the things Fane tamped down on merely due to her presence were the things she worried about. Or more specifically, losing him to those things. Those impulses. Because it was easy for him, she knew. He wasn’t an evil man, not in her eyes. Not to the people that really knew him. Which wasn’t many. And even to others that met him, she didn’t believe they thought him evil, unless they believed the rumor mill and the papers. He’d done nothing to warrant such slander. He was a scapegoat, nothing more. And one that would take it, over and over again, without comment, even though she knew it bothered him.

And she almost felt bad, felt like she was using him, even though she wasn’t. Using him in the sense that she trusted him to have her back, trusted him to do what needed doing (case in point the sounds from across the way that she did not hear…), and never hesitate. He would get his hands dirty if needed, and Faye knew that. Though so would she if the situation warranted.

She let him him pull his face away without comment, taking his word - for now - that he was alright. The blood siphoned off easily. It was... fresh, and Faye’s magic make quick work of it. There was a small part of her - a tiny, well-hidden part - that felt the same dark rush of adrenaline and yes, even arousal, at the sight of Fane splattered with red. That controlled violence - the purposeful working of blade or wand or both, the clinical way he knew just how to cut, or slice, or apply the right amount of pressure… - it slipped inside the part of Faye that was fascinated with the macabre. The part that wanted to know just how far someone could be pushed before they died of shock or fear. The part that wanted evil to pay, regardless of the consequences. His darkness slipped and slid against her own quite well. Though the experimentation had only gone so far, mostly sex. And a few of the things he’d shown her during this case that had immediately grabbed her interest.

But right now, Faye’s concern was getting what they came for now that they were both alright. He held up the keycard, and Faye looked up at him, a one-sided grin spreading across her own face. She gestured towards the hall. “Allons-y…”

He would never say breaking free of those urges and impulses were easy, or that they didn’t take effort or concentration to be free of but with Faye around he found he could channel his focus away and onto her. By doing that it distracted him from lingering too long on those things that wanted to drag him down into their depths. So Fane let her distract him, let her grip his jaw and tilt his head this way and that as though it would make any difference to the thoughts and actions that had manifested themselves on her behalf but also on his on will to punish Boris for even thinking about touching her, let alone doing anything else he may have otherwise envisioned.

Slander had just become a thing he was used to, his legacy and family were painted and held up to a certain expectation and any deviation from that was met with confusion and speculation. It just was the way of the world and he’d come to accept that a long while back now. So while sometimes it was a heavy burden to bear, it was one he shouldered without all that much complaint because complaining got nothing done at the end of the day.

Once his clothes were sorted, Fane smoothed down the front of his jacket and adjusted his shirt fixing it back into his trousers as well as smoothing down his hair that had become a little dishevelled with his temporary tryst to find his way back here. They were a right pair it seemed, their interests and the things that drew their attention and lured them in being towards the darker and more questionable end of the spectrum. But Fane would always make the point it just depended on how you used that knowledge or practise that determined what sort of person you were. Magic whether dark or light was a neutral force, intent shaped it to the final end. Still, he was soon enough distracted by the task of frisking Boris (who was still gagging and choking due to the immobilisation spell) down until he came away with his keycard.

Stepping over Boris and sweeping the curtain aside, Fane held out a hand to help Faye out the way good-naturedly though he did send an apologetic glance to the bartender. Not that he could remember his name. But deciding it might just be better to get him away, Fane cast a spell to move his unconscious form down the hallway and deposited him on one of the other sofas where he’d wake later with a killer headache. Unfortunate, but better than being found outside the scene of… well, what he and Faye were leaving behind.

Faye took Fane’s hand and they made there way down the corridor, surmising that there should be another private entrance somewhere along the way. The situation in their own booth had apparently gone unnoticed by any other patrons of this area, as Faye could plainly hear what was happening behind several curtains. Though she suspected some people got off on knowing that people could hear them, and hearing others. While other booths were deadly quiet. Who knew what was happening behind those curtains. But they weren’t here for voyeurism. Not tonight.

Tonight they needed one thing: the woman at the top. Faye knew her real name. But everyone whispered another: Kali. Which Faye thought was a bit much. Naming oneself after the Hindu goddess of death and destruction (relatively speaking, of course) was pretty egotistical, after all. Either way, they would find her, and she would talk. One way or another.

The second entrance wasn’t really a door at all. Merely a series of glowing symbols set into a blank wall face. The corridor had come to a stop after several feet of blank wall on either side. Nothing was there upon first glance. Faye even cast a light detection charm - meant specifically not to set off alarms - at the area. Still nothing. It was only then that she plucked the card from Fane’s hand and waved a few times back and forth. Finally, at about Fane’s chest height, a set of symbols started to glow. Bright blue against the red light, they sat in a pattern of nine, like a muggle keypad.

“Fucking figures,” Faye grumbled. “The card is to access the keypad. Now we have to enter the right set of symbols too.” Though she hardly expected this to be easy. She squinted at the pad for a moment, before raising her wand and muttering a small spell. A violet glow appeared above the blue, pulsing brighty just above four of the symbols. Latent fingerprints. Faye grinned. “Your turn,” she told Fane, who was much better at puzzles and codes than she was, and could probably see the minute differences in the way the keys had been pressed. Or maybe he’d just go with best guess. Either way, he was better at it than her. “What order?”

Letting Faye have the card Fane stepped back to scan the hallway, to make sure that no wanderers by would get the wrong idea about interfering with their current snooping. If they could get on with this without being detected things would be a whole lot easier and the night would likely be sorted far more smoothly as well. His earlier anticipation and excitement had since faded to only a mild interest in what they might discover. His investment in the case only stretching so far as ensuring Faye’s security and safety until they could close this case and file it away. To move on from this endless hunt that had slowly been invading and eating away at their lives beyond it.

He couldn’t wait for this to be over, to be done and wrapped up and never to be revisited again. Which mean getting on with tonight and moving on.

So as the symbols appeared in the wall Fane blinked, stepping back to look at them a little more closely. Some he recognised. Others he wasn’t entirely sure of but he could deduce more or less the idea they were getting at. Not numbers exactly but-- Fane pressed his tongue idly against a canine in thought and as Faye cast a spell revealing latent fingerprints his hand raised to rub his chin in thought. But then a thought struck him as he looked at the highlighted symbols. With his index finger he pressed the first that looked like a teardrop, second came a tree, next a rudraksha seed, and finally an image of lines transcending and converging upwards. Each one he pressed glowed with a soft teal luminescence pulsing with the magic of this building and place before the four symbols started to rotate prior to their convergence outwards from the points at which the thread of magic interconnected to form the symbol of a rudraksha in the wall. The symbol rotated slowly as it sank back into the wall before the soft whirr of gears clanking and unlocking could be heard and finally, the door revealed itself to them. Fane glanced up at it “the irony here is killing me.”

Faye wanted to be done with all of this too. It was merely chance that this case had fallen into her lap near the same time as Fane’s return. If not for the case’s high profile status and her personal feelings over the issue - as well as being a fellow Order member - Faye might have let someone else handle it. But she hadn’t. It was her case, and she would see it through until the end.

She just hoped that the end came soon. Or at least they came to a place where they could take a break. Faye could obsess harder and more thoroughly than almost anyone at the Ministry. She had an iron-clad focus and determination that would put most to shame. Fane knew this. He’d seen it more than most. And Faye knew it frustrated him when she went for days - or longer - latched on to something. She knew, but she had to have that focus. If she didn’t, someone could get hurt. Or worse. Tonight was case in point. She’d been stupid. Not paying enough attention to Boris because she was too busy listening to Fane flirt with some random barista.

And look what her distraction had led to?

All the more reason to stay focused from here on out.

Fane came over when she called, and in a matter of seconds had the code worked out. “Show off,” she grinned, handing the keycard back to him so he could tuck it away. “And no one said drug dealers had to be original.” Wand still in her hand, Faye led the way into the next hallway. This one was all gray concrete, and lit by simple fluorescent lights. Nothing magical about it. Another door lay at the end, and they made it through without difficulty.

Only to end up in a deserted, trash-filled alley. Police sirens wailed in the distance, and the neighborhood was definitely not the one they’d started in.

“What the actual fuck?” Faye said, turning in a circle. “You’ve got to be kidding me?” She looked over at Fane, about to ask him what had just happened, when there was a thumping sound on the hood of the dumpster nearby. Faye turned to see a small cat, a Siamese that was all white with bright golden eyes, sitting there watching them. It blinked once, and then jumped down to the alley floor, padding away towards the street. Faye looked at Fane with a frown before following the little creature. It turned left, tail stuck high in the air as it sauntered it’s way towards the curb.

And the black car - a Bugatti Chiron - waiting there, idling quietly.

They drew closer, and the back doors of the expensive sedan opened on their own. The cat hopped inside without looking back at them, and disappeared into the interior. Faye looked at the car, then looked at Fane. “Looks like somebody knows we’re here. Come on.” Knowing he would follow, Faye approached the vehicle and slid into the back seat. The cat was now a woman. A beautiful blonde dressed in red, with high cheekbones, winged eyeliner, and a tattoo of a serpent across her bare shoulders. Ironic really, considering she was apparently a feline animagus. Faye’s airtight memory bank didn’t recall an animal as unusal as a golden-eyed white Siamese among the Registry. But she would hold on to that little bit of information for later. It could be useful, since being an unregistered Animagi could have serious consequences.

#hp au #scene

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marshmallow-phd · 7 years ago

Text

My Soul to Burn

Part of the EXO Demon Series

Genre: Demon AU

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Minseok

Summary: Unknown to the mortals, the world was plunging into chaos. But Minseok couldn’t care less. He was still able to take assignments, able to continue in collecting souls of the gullible. As long as he could do his job, he didn’t care what the angels or his boss were up to. Out stalking his next target, he met you, someone who could see him even when he chose to be invisible. At first, he shrugged you off, not interest in the mystery. But after another chance encounter, Minseok was intrigued. As your abnormality could have a part to play in the war against the angels, he was reluctantly keeping you close. With you as warm as he was cold, he tried to stay the terrifying demon while being haunted by Kris’ last words…

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I Final

Yixing steadied you on your feet, staring down at you with genuine concern. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you in anyway?”

You shook your head, your mind in a bit of a daze. “No, I-I’m fine.”

This demon was different from the other two you’d met. He wasn’t scary or imposing. How could such a gentle being be part of the dark and depressing underworld?

“Why are you asking if I hurt her?” Minseok snapped. “Does she look injured?”

Breaking his gaze away from you, Yixing narrowed his eyes over at Minseok. “Not all injuries are on the physical level.”

The demon you’d been trying to get away from scoffed. “Whatever. Just tell me what she is. Why can she see us? Why was she able to almost give water to Tantalus? Why wouldn’t Cerberus tear her limb from limb when I told him to? That’s all I care about right now.”

You shivered at his last question. The mental picture dancing around in your head at the moment was not a pretty one.

“Those are intriguing questions,” Yixing mused. “But ones with multiple possible answers.”

“Listen here, fortune cookie,” Minseok roared, “stop with the philosophy and just give me what I want.”

Yixing sighed, leading you over to a leather chair and sitting you down on the cushion. He studied your face, fingers gently moving your chin back and forth.

“I didn’t bring her here for a physical, Yixing.”

With a huff, Yixing straightened up, turning to his colleague. “I thought you wanted your answer? I had to be clear that she’s a human.”

“She’s definitely human,” Minseok rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s not that special.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Yixing covered your mouth with his hand before one word could escape.

“Don’t encourage him,” he warned me. “It just makes it worse.” Crouching down, Yixing came to your eye level. “What’s your name?”

“(y/n) (l/n).”

He nodded. “And your parents’ names?”

You told him, a flicker of interest showing up at the mention of your father. He jumped up, going over to an empty wall. Finding an indention in the middle, like a handle, he pushed the panel aside, revealing rows and rows of folders and leathers books. Yixing rifled through them, pulling out a single, thin manila folder that looked a few decades old.

“Yixing is our record keeper,” Minseok informed you.

Your eyebrows rose to nearly your hair line. He gave you that tidbit of knowledge voluntarily? Without being asked?

The keeper of the contracts let out a short laugh as read over the contents. “That is quite the surprise.”

Minseok practically ran to his side, but Yixing kept the contract from his view. “Just show me.”

Instead, Yixing turned to you. “(y/n), you are alive today because of a stipulation in this contract here.”

Your jaw dropped. “What are you talking about? That’s completely impossible.”

“No, it’s not actually.” Ignoring Minseok, he walked over to you, folding the file in half and showing you. “You died when you were eight.”

“No, no, that’s not right,” you argued. “I mean – yes, I fell out of a tree and hit my head. I spent a few days in the hospital, but I was fine.”

“Your brain was bleeding and they couldn’t stop it. The doctors called it a miracle,” he added in softly.

After you took the folder, scanning over its contents, you couldn’t really fight the truth. There was your name. And there was your father’s, on the dotted line.

“How could you?” you whispered, mostly to yourself as a message to the idiot who agreed to the deal. Your father was older now, not quite on his deathbed, but each day there was a chance of an accident, of something happening and then his soul would be sent to hell, where it didn’t belong. Then you snapped. Noticing the fireplace burning just a few feet to your left, you ran for it, intending to throw the stupid pile of papers into the flames. But before you could even start the throw, the folder was gone from your hand.

Minseok was now holding it up as he gave you a pitiful look. “Sorry, sweetheart. Doesn’t work that way. This is just a punch of fibers and ink. Once a contract is made, it can’t be broken, no matter what.”

“So, I’m just supposed to sit by and let my father be tortured for eternity?” you screeched.

“It won’t be for eternity,” Yixing corrected, taking your attention. “It was a sacrificial deal, so his term will be limited. I believe his sentence was fifteen years.”

That made little difference to you. “That’s fifteen years too many.”

“This is all fine and dandy, but that still doesn’t completely explain why she can see us,” Minseok interrupted. “There have been people brought back to life before.”

Yixing nodded. “But by a pure sacrificial contract is rare. Usually, the signer will add something in or the person wasn’t entire dead yet. (y/n)’s soul had already crossed over when she was brought back. And since it was by our energy, her soul is marked for the rest of eternity. Hence, why she can see us. And she’s protected by the contract, hence why Cerberus couldn’t touch her.”

“You really are a know-it-all,” Minseok grumbled as he put the contract back in its place.

“There’s one more piece of information you might want to know.” The look on Yixing’s face was almost gloating.

Minseok sneered, “And what is that?”

Yixing smirked. “You were the one who made the contract.”

“What!”

You looked back and forth between the two demons who actually had the nerve to stare at you in surprise at your outburst. How else were you supposed to take this news? This person that you wanted nothing to do with for the rest of your life was now tied to you, whether you saw him or not. He was the very reason you were alive.

“Are you serious?” Minseok asked Yixing.

Yixing nodded. “Very. It has your name on it. I’m amazed it didn’t dawn on you when she said her father’s name. You usually recall your contract fairly well.”

“I don’t remember the sappy ones.”

“Is that all it was to you?” you hissed. “A sappy tale that you couldn’t care less about?”

Minseok rolled his eyes. “It’s just a job. Don’t take it personal.”

“Screw you.”

Narrowing his eyes at you, Minseok stomped up to you, grabbing hold of your arm. You tried to yank yourself away, but he wouldn’t let go. “I’m taking you home. Mystery solved. Now you can get out of my hair.”

“Fine!” you yelled. Turning to Yixing, you said in a calmer voice. “Thank you. For your help.”

“Of course,” Minseok grumbled.

“You are very welcome, (y/n).” Yixing smiled at you and then offered, “If you have any other questions, please come back and I’ll be happy to answer them.”

“She’s not coming back,” Minseok argued.

Before you or Yixing could counter, the light around you shimmered and the library was gone. In its place was your apartment, but certainly not how you left it.

“What the–”

The entire place had been ransacked.

Furniture upturned, trash everywhere, the few pictures you owned knocked from the walls. It would take you days to get this place looking decent again. You could have sworn you locked the door. Looking behind you, it definitely wasn’t kicked it or broken in any way. Who could have gotten in without leaving a trace of how they did it?

Minseok sniffed the air and then cringed. “Shit.”

“Okay,” you huffed. “My apartment does not smell bad.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he growled. “Protectors have been here. Why, I have no fucking idea, but they were looking for something.” He looked at you and ordered, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He was gone in a second.

Unsure of what else to do, you started picking up the trash and righting the chairs. This was the last thing you needed right now. And what the hell were Protectors? They didn’t sound very menacing.

About fifteen minutes later, Minseok returned.

“You might as well stop doing that,” he sighed, scowling.

Throwing your arms up, you asked, “Why?”

Honestly, you were fed up. Life was throwing a pile of stones at you and you just wanted one night of peace. How could it get any worse?

“Because you’re not staying here for the time being,” he stated.

You laughed. Of course. “Yeah, sure. Okay. Then where am I supposed to stay?”

“With me.”

Your jaw dropped. Was he serious? You’d obviously spoken too soon about things unable to get worse.

“No.” You shook your head ferociously. “No way. I’m not staying in that mansion surrounded by demons twenty-four-seven. It’s not going to happen.”

Minseok rolled his eyes for the second time in half an hour. “You’re not staying in the mansion. I have somewhere else for you to stay. And most of the time I won’t be there anyway.”

A little of the fight deflated from you. “Oh. Okay…,” but you still didn’t want to go along with this. “Why exactly do I need to stay with you?”

Marching up to you, Minseok didn’t stop until he was mere inches from your face. “Because very dangerous spiritual entities are now after you for some reason I cannot fathom and you could possibly lead them to us. We’re not going to take that chance, so you’re coming with me whether you want to or not.”

You crossed your arms, knowing full well that you didn’t have a choice. He’d overpower you in a split second. “Fine.”

“Good. Pack a bag. I mean, one bag.”

After letting out a short, huffy breath, you stomped off to your room. Once safe behind a wall, you stuck your tongue out at him.

“I saw that!” he called out.

Damn it.

As quickly as you could, you packed a bag of comfortable clothes. You doubted you’d be allowed to go to work, but honestly, you weren’t too disappointed.

Back in the living room, Minseok gave you no time before taking your arm and teleporting you out of the apartment.

You landed in a dark bedroom. The sheets on the bed didn’t look like they’d been touched and the accompanying decorations were more sparse than your own.

“You’ll sleep here,” he informed you.

“Is there at least food here?” you asked. You were always hungry first thing in the morning and if he thought of you as a pain in the ass now, he’d hate you once you woke up tomorrow.

“Already taken care of,” he answered, obviously bored by your very vital question. “Just go to sleep. And don’t think about escaping. I’ll just bring you back and lock you in the closet.”

“Whatever.”

As soon as Minseok was gone, you changed into an oversized t-shirt and shorts and slipped into the cold sheets. You were absolutely drained and ready for a night of sleep.

Waking up in the morning, you, for a split second, thought of last night as a terrible, horrible dream. But as soon as you sat up and took in your surroundings, you gave up on that notion. Groaning, you fell back onto the bed.

Why did life have to kick you when you were down? Why did crap like this always have to happen to you? It wasn’t fair. You tried so hard to be a decent person and you got stuck being a hostage in a demon’s apartment.

Part of you wanted to just waste away in the queen sized bed that barely fit in the small bedroom, but your stomach protested loudly. Getting up, you stumbled over to the bathroom, fixing your appearance as best you could before venturing out into the main area.

Minseok didn’t seem to be around, judging by the lack of noise or movement. Shrugging, you went into the kitchen, happy that he hadn’t been lying to you. The kitchen was fully stocked and you did a little dance as you pulled ingredients out one by one.

The kitchen was soon full of delicious smells and you wished the food would cook faster. Your mind drifted off, thinking of yesterday and the crap you’d gone through.

Yes, Minseok was borderline psychotic, but he also was responsible for you being alive today. And – judging by the state of your apartment – whatever beings were after you, they weren’t messing around. So, either by force or by his own free will, he was protecting you. A tiny piece of resentment and hatred for the demon was melting away and if you weren’t careful, a bigger piece just might disappear.

Besides, he wasn’t entirely at fault for what he was charged to do on a daily basis.

Feeling a little nice, you made two plates of breakfast and had just sat them down on the table when Minseok came through the door. Your eyes widened at his appearance.

Gone was the well-cut suit, replaced by simple black jeans, a black shirt, and matching jacket. He looked… normal. Human, almost. A human that you would most definitely be attracted to if you’d simply seen him walking down the street.

You cleared your throat, realizing that you were staring. “Good morning!”

Minseok eyed you, confused by your more chipper manor towards him. “Hi.”

Finding it hard to come up with something else to say, you pointed to the food. “I made breakfast.”

His eyes flickered down, unimpressed, and then back up at you. “Demons don’t have to eat.”

“Oh.” You actually felt your shoulders slump. “I didn’t realize– I guess, I just wanted to say thank you, you know. Since you didn’t have to bring me here. And I know I haven’t exactly been the most… well, I haven’t been very nice to you, I guess, I tried to make up for it….”

“You’re not supposed to be nice to demons,” Minseok scoffed. “And don’t thank me. My superior told me I had to watch over you. I wasn’t going to hang around at your place, so I brought you here. Where you’ll stay.”

“Right,” you nodded. “Still. Thank you.”

Thinking the conversation was done and he was about to leave the room, you sat down and started to eat. To your surprise, he didn’t leave, instead taking the chair across from you. He picked up a fork and started eating at the food on the plate you’d thought would just go to waste. You dropped your fork and it made a clattering sound that was deafening in the silence.

“What?” Minseok snapped when he caught you staring again. “I said that we don’t eat. Not that we can’t.”

“Oh.”

The two of you munch on breakfast in silence for a while. An awkward one, at that. A demon and a girl who’d been brought back from the dead. It sounded like the beginning to a bad joke.

Unable to take the quiet any longer, you asked, “So, if you live in the mansion, why do you have this apartment?”

He answered without hesitation, “I used to come here for peace and quiet.”

You frowned. “Used to?”

“Well, I can’t exactly do that with you here now, can I?”

That was it. Throwing your fork down, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. “Would it kill you to drop the attitude for five seconds? I asked a simple question. You don’t have to be obnoxious about the answer. And you also didn’t have to bring me here. You first stepped into my coffee shop. You then proceeded to come after me. So stop acting like this is all my fault. I made you breakfast when I clearly didn’t have to, so would it kill you to be grateful for a minute or two?”

Taking once last bite, Minseok put down his own fork and stood up. “Thank you. Now I’m going to take a nap. Try not to make too much noise.”

The temptation to throw a pan at his head was great, but you restrained yourself. Whether he meant it or not, he’d said thank you. Baby steps. Baby steps.

Now, if you could just figure out why your heart hadn’t calmed down since the moment he walked in.

#exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo scenarios #exo demon!au #exo demon au #exo x fem reader #exo x fem!reader #kim minseok x reader #xiumin #zhang yixing #lay

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