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bigfrozenfan-fanfics · 3 years

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Chapter 07 - Mattias and Halima

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: each Friday on (link)

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It was just before sunset when they reached Arendelle. Mattias' timing had been correct. They rode right through the upper rock gate and all the splendour of their homeland opened before them. When they left two days ago they still had the journey ahead of them and did not look back. But now they had Arendelle in front of them and the view from up here was overwhelming. The fields on the mountain slopes glowed in intense colours, from the gold of the wheat, through rich green and yellow of different crops for humans and animals, to a bright mixture of colours from the many fields of flowers used for decoration and for sale in shops and at the market. In the harbour the ships and boats rocked in the soft, warm breeze and behind the majestic castle of the royal family, bathed in the orange light of the setting sun, the calm waters of the Arenfjord glittered.

Mattias could not tear himself away from the sight and gently brought his horse to a halt. Halima did the same and looked over to him. He had a dreamy expression on his face and she had to smile. She could understand his feelings, as harvest time was approaching and his homeland showed itself to him in all its beauty and fertility. She was looking forward to the harvest festival. This time they would celebrate it together.

Finally they rode up slowly and they heard the bell at the clock tower in the distance strike seven times. On the way down they passed Halima's cozy little cottage and they reined the horses. Mattias jumped boldly out of the saddle and walked around the horse to help Halima get off.

“Mattias! You jump off your horse as if you were still the lieutenant from back then. Remember that you are not young anymore. You could easily sprain your ankle,” she said laughing and shook her head over his exuberance.

He grinned and helped her dismount. “Don't worry, dearest, I'm not that old.” They held each other in their arms and looked at one another in love. Time seemed to stand still for a moment. Then he kissed her tenderly and she lifted one foot in rapture.

When they separated again he gave her a last short kiss on her cheek as a farewell. “I have to ride to the castle now to take care of everything before nightfall. I will see you later. I'll pick you up for dinner.”

“All right, darling. I'll just go down to the library and drop off some books. I'd forgotten to bring them back before we left. I hope it's still open. I'll see you later.”

He got back on his horse, put the other one on a leash and waved to her as he rode off. She waved back and gazed after him till he vanished behind the next corner of the houses. Then she went inside to get the books.

~~~

As he had passed through the castle gate, he handed the horses over to a stable boy who was just passing by, and was about to go through the front door of the castle when the captain of the guard approached him.

“General Mattias. May I have a word, please?” He saluted him and Mattias nodded.

“What's it, Captain Einar?”

“Well, I ... am a little confused. I see you, but where are the queen and her fiancé? Has something happened?” His gaze showed a mixture of amazement and concern, but Mattias also noticed a slight hint of anger on his face.

“You have nothing to worry about. She is well and she is still with her sister, Elsa. She'll be back in two days.”

“With all due respect, Sir, but you left without any protection from her guards and now you're returning alone? That's-“

“Irresponsible, you mean?” Mattias gruffly interrupted the young, overzealous captain of the royal guard. But he looked at him favorably. “She is in the best of hands with Elsa, no bodyguard in the world could protect her better than she. Have you forgotten what she did last autumn to save us all from the flood? Well ...?” He looked at him, waiting.

The captain became a little pale around the nose and stuttered, unsure what to answer, “Um ... yes, well ... in that sense, of course, you're right, Sir, I just thought I ... I mean ...”

“That's all right, Captain Einar. You're just doing your duty and being very observant, that's fine. Keep up the good work. But if you'll excuse me now, I have important business to attend to.” Mattias turned and left the captain stood speechless.

~~~

Of course, it had only been half the truth and he had to lie partly; Mattias thought, but in this situation it was necessary not to tell the captain everything.

In the following hour he called together some of the older councillors who were still faithfully carrying out their duties in Queen Elsa's time and informed them of the precarious situation. He instructed everyone to keep it under wraps and to treat the matter as confidential. Everyone agreed without reservation. On most faces there was great concern and some asked about the condition of their Queen Anna. He answered their questions in concise words, but made it clear to them that a lengthy discussion would have to wait until their return.

He then went to the royal physician and asked him to prepare everything necessary and to look for answers for Elsa's condition. He did not need to tell a doctor about his duty of confidentiality. The physician nodded and hurried away to look for precedents in his textbooks.

Finally, only one thing remained to be done. He had to find two reliable people to accompany him and he already knew who.

When he stepped outside again it had already become dark and the courtyard was bathed in the flickering light of the fire bowls and some big torches. He had fresh horses brought and rode to his home. However, on the way he stopped briefly to visit two of his old comrades who were locked up with him in the Enchanted Forest. He could trust them absolutely. Among them was a woman who was supposed to take care of suitable camouflage clothes for Elsa. He gave the man the order to get an inconspicuous wagon, some ranged weapons, food and everything else for such an action. Both of them did not ask any questions and immediately took care of this responsible task, with the intention not to arouse any suspicion.

Arriving at home, he threw on fresh clothes suitable for a dinner. After his return last autumn he had to take care of a completely new wardrobe, because he simply did not fit into the old clothes anymore. He always took care of a tidy appearance, especially now, because of Halima. He took one last look in the mirror before leaving the house again.

~~~

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The host cleared away the leftovers of their dinner while they leaned back contentedly. He enquired how it had tasted to them.

“That was delicious,” enthused Halima, smiling at the host and wiped the corner of her mouth with the tip of a napkin. “Compliments to the cook,” she added as he left. Her eyes lit up at Mattias, who rubbed his belly with satiation.

“I must have overdone it a bit with the portion,” he giggled and reached for his glass of red wine. “To your health, Halima.”

“To us, Mattias,” she said as she lifted her glass, toasting with him, while they looked each other in the eyes.

A short time later, they went for their walk, as previously planned. It was a starry night and Arenfjord glittered silvery in the bright moonlight. Down in the village all the lanterns were lit and from up here you could see that the taverns were very busy, now and then even the laughter of some guests came up here.

“How did it go at the castle?” Halima asked abruptly.

“Good. Everything is arranged and prepared. All is according to plan.”

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Before sunrise. On the one hand, we gain some time, because of the vehicle and on the other hand, there is hardly anyone on the streets and we will probably come out unnoticed.” He paused. “How was it with you? Was the library still open?”

“Yes, barely. Mr. Oddvar was just about to close, but I was able to return the books.”

They sat down in the grass and Mattias put an arm around her. Halima looked at him and then rested her head on his shoulder. They both remained silent and enjoyed their romantic evening on the hill above Arendelle for a long time.

~~~

Kristoff had woken up in the middle of the night because Anna was snoring loudly. It was still dark so he closed his eyes again. How would it be once they were married and he would have to sleep in their bed from now on; he thought. Then he grinned. He hadn't known that about Anna yet.

He recalled last night before his inner eyes. They had talked for a long time about what Anna had seen, and he had tried to convince her that what she had observed did not necessarily have to be true. Perhaps this impression was troubling. At some point she had calmed down again and he went out to get them both a warm dinner, which they then consumed silently inside the hut.

Afterwards she had prepared herself for the night while he turned his back on her for decency. She did not want to sleep alone and asked him to lie beside her. Inside the kota it was quite warm and so he asked if she would mind if he took off his thick leather tunic. She grinned at him and shook her head. It hadn't taken long then and she snuggled up comfortably against him. Through her thin nightdress he felt her warmth on his naked upper body, his hand lay light and tenderly above her waist. He enjoyed feeling her closeness in this way. Her slender, warm body seemed so fragile at this moment, but he knew that it was not so. If she wanted to, she could unleash an unimagined strength, not to mention her willpower and her sometimes almost unbearable pig-headedness. But at the moment all he felt was her softness and warm breath on his chest, her gentle hand on his back and her hair tickling his cheek. Sometimes she hummed softly and contentedly when she moved.

Finally her breath became more regular and she fell asleep. This night could last forever if he had his way; he thought, if only there wasn't this little thing that she snores such like she does now. But at some point he got so tired that it didn't bother him anymore and he fell back asleep with a broad smile on his face.

~~~

It was already after midnight when Honeymaren stepped out of Elsa's kota and almost silently closed the flap behind her. Elsa had fallen asleep at some point and she didn't want to wake her up.

She looked up and watched the twinkling stars in the cloudless night sky. The moon had already set and so she was now standing there in deep black darkness. “Crap,” she whispered softly to herself and turned towards her own kota by feeling. She knew that she would also find the way blindly and it was not far away. Nevertheless, she moved forward very carefully, one arm stretched out in front of her, to notice trees or a hut in time.

She finally reached the kota and listened. An unmistakable snoring told her that she was standing in front of the right hut. Her parents had certainly wondered where she was again, but it was extremely rare that she was so late. Silently she opened the flap and crept in. She groped her way to her sleeping place, unbuckled her belt and pulled the tunic over her head. Then she lay down, sighed quietly and soon fell into sleep like a rock.

~~~

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At sunrise Yelana left the camp and made a long walk to a kota far away. She hadn't been here for a long time and when she finally stood in front of the hut, it immediately struck her that it had seen better days before. The wood was heavily weathered and there were open gaps between the boards in some places. Nobody had repaired or renewed anything here for a long time. She opened the flap and stepped in. In the middle of the kota sat an elderly woman who was busy with a handicraft.

“Hello, Gyda.”

“Don't call me that, Yelana. You know very well I hate that nickname.” She did not even look up when she answered in a dark and powerful voice, but continued to care for her traditional duodji. She just made one of the belts as they all wore it over the tunic here in camp. However, certain details onto it told Yelana that this belt was meant for an unmarried Northuldra.

“Well, Gyríðr, but don't you think we're both a bit old for this kind of subtlety?”

Gyda looked up briefly, swung her head back and forth in a judgmental manner and then continued with the work indifferent. Yelana took a look around the dwelling. It was full of old traditional items, including a richly decorated rare gievriej, a very old sacred shaman drum, as the noaidi used to use it for their rituals. This was long before the People of the Sun moved here near by Ahtohallan and the fifth Spirit was chosen among them. All that remained of the old tradition was the soul song of her tribe. But this one here must have been made by Gyda.

Yelana looked at her again. She had become a very old woman, the deep wrinkles in her face showed her long life experience as wife of the fifth spirit. But it was also evident that she was still troubled by the fact that he had rejected her at that time and that she was losing her high position in the tribe on those days. At some point she retreated to this place and since then she had lived as a hermit. Afterwards she only had contact to the tribe through the few Northuldra that brought her food to survive. In return, she voluntarily made traditional clothing and therefore was provided with leather, fabric and all the other things that were necessary.

Yelana didn't know everything that was going on that time then, but she needed to know if Gyda had a child with him and could somehow hide it. She cleared her throat distinctly. “There have been disturbing events and I have an important inquiry.”

Gyda didn't respond.

“Please!”

The elder woman paused and finally put her tools aside.

“Ask.”

“Had the fifth spirit begotten a progeny with you?”

Gyda gave a short, dry laugh. “Are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten what happened back then?”

Yelana tightened her eyebrows. “No, of course not. But you've been living so far out here for so long that nobody notices anything, even if you're pregnant, if you know how to hide it. I need to know, and also who helped you.”

“Even if it were, what do you care?” Gyda picked up her tools again.

“Wait. Please listen to me.” Yelana sat down and told her everything, including her suspicion that Gyda's child might be responsible. Gyda listened to her attentively and asked no questions, only her gaze grew increasingly darkened. At the end she nodded and after a little while of consideration she finally answered quietly.

“Yes, I had a child with him, a boy. I gave him the name Kolgrimr.” She hesitated, but then continued, “I was already pregnant when he abandoned me because I was no longer good enough for him and could no longer perform my duties as he expected of me to. You surely remember what he was like, how ruthless and pressing. But I wanted to protect my unborn child.” She interrupted herself and took a deep breath. “I gave birth to the child some time later and Jonna helped me with. Then this king came from the south and all these strangers started to build this dam and ...,” she faltered and looked sadly to the ground. “Sometime after the completion of this stony monster, he finally came back to me and told me something about a fraud and that the land was dying and the reindeer were suffering. He was so excited and angry, I can still remember it like it was yesterday.”

“What happened next?” asked Yelana when Gyda lost herself in memories and did not continue speaking immediately.

“He took Kolgrimr from me. Said he had to make sure that his descendant would take over when he himself was no longer around. I didn't know what he meant then and I tried to stop him, but without success. I never saw him again and later heard that he was killed in his human form. Shortly afterwards the sun darkened and this fog came. You know the rest of the story.”

“Yes, and Jonna also died fighting with the men of this dreadful king. I knew her quite well. I just don't understand why she never told me about it.”

“Because she had to promise to me not to tell anybody.”

Yelana understood and nodded. She felt pity for her, grabbed Gyda by the arm and said, “I'm very sorry for you, Gy- ... Gyríðr. No one knew about your child, and none of us wanted you living here alone. None of us ever really got it right.”

“It's not our folks' fault, I know. It was my own decision and I had my reasons.”

“Have you ever seen your son again?”

Gyda looked up. Then she slowly and sadly shook her head, “No. He's probably long dead, too.”

When Yelana later returned to the camp, she first went to her kota and thought things over thoroughly. One thing led to another and slowly a picture formed itself in her mind. It was time to make a decision, one that was very tough for her. And so she got up and walked out.

~~~

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I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know.

Tagging: @karma26 @whether-near-to-me-or-far @annaofthenorthernlights @igotelsapregnanthelp

#frozen #frozen2 #frozen3 #fanfic #epic novel #the broken bridge #chapter 07 #bigfrozenfan

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pitiless-achilles-wept · 3 years

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2020 Can Take My Hair, But Not My Hope

My hair started falling out on election night.

I thought at first it might be the anxiety, that I was literally pulling my hair out with worry over numbers I already knew were not going to be definitive before the night wore into morning but which I stayed up until 3:30am watching anyway. I tweeted rapidly, reassuring my jittery timeline that not only had we all known that the night would bring no results but that we had even expected Trump to lead in key states because of the greater number of mail-in ballots from urban areas that would largely count for Biden. We knew. We all knew. But we were all terrified, flashing back to 2016 and already dreading another four years of living life on high alert, in constant survival mode.

I posted a selfie with a tweet that read, "Could be the last presidential election I vote in (blah blah stage 4 cancer blah blah) and I wish it were better and clearer than this but it's a crucial privilege to have voted. Remember, whatever the outcome, the last thing they can take from you is your hope."

To me that last sentence has been a mantra for these years and for my treatment. I have consistently refused, despite overwhelmingly terrible odds, to lose hope. The story of Pandora's Box tells us that the very last thing left inside was Hope--that even once all the demons were out in the world there was that tiny, feathered creature left to hang on to. It hasn't been easy, but I am one of the most stubborn people you will ever meet (and if you doubt this just ask anyone who's ever fought me on anything!) and it has turned out to be a saving grace rather than an irritating personality trait. Feeling like the world was trying to take my hope away made me angry. And when I get angry I will fight back.

I know I'm not alone in feeling like we entered some kind of alternate nightmare timeline on election night 2016. To that point, despite periods of immense personal difficulty, nothing truly terrible had happened to me. Then, in short order, my marriage ended and I was diagnosed with and began being treated for a terminal illness, all against the backdrop of a regime so deliberately hateful that it was truly incomprehensible to me. Then, a global pandemic and national crisis swept away the small consolations I'd found in my new life with cancer. The temptation to feel hopeless was strong and I struggled with it, particularly in the isolation of quarantine. I'm struggling with it now, facing a winter of further lockdowns, social isolation, continued chemo, and the added indignity (and chilliness!) of not having any hair. But somehow the coincidence of my hair loss with election night seemed like a good omen for the future, if a sad thing for the present.

I heard the news that they had called Pennsylvania for Biden at a peaceful Airbnb in the Catskills after stepping out of a shower where lost hair in handfuls. It felt oddly like a sacrifice I had made personally. I joked about this with friends on the text chains that lit up and that (despite my promise to myself and my writing partner that we'd "go off the grid") I responded to immediately. Instant replies, with emojis and GIFs, participated in the fiction: "Thank you for your service!!!"; "We ALL appreciate your sacrifice!"; "Who among us would NOT give up their hair for no more Trump?". The feeling was real for me, though. It was as though the good news demanded some kind of karmic offering. You never get something for nothing, I thought, and really it was a small price to pay.

The rest of the weekend passed too quickly, with absorption in the novel I plan (madly, given that I also work full-time) to work on for "National Novel Writing Month" (NaNoWriMo), walks in the unseasonably warm woods, and nighttime drinks on the back deck under the stars, watching my hair blow off in fine strands and drift through the sodium porch light. My friend and I read tarot and both our layouts contained The Tower, the card for new beginnings from total annihilation, the moment of destruction in which (as the novel's title says) everything is illuminated. "This might sound dumb," he said, "but maybe yours is about your hair." It did not sound dumb.

[shaved heads, the 2020 election, and a couple pics under the cut]

There is probably no more iconic visual shorthand for cancer than hair loss. It happens because chemo agents target fast-proliferating cells, which tend to inhabit things that grow rapidly by nature (hair, fingernails), or that we need to replenish often (cells in the gut), as well as out-of-control cancer cells. But not all cancer treatments, not even all chemotherapies, cause hair loss. In my 20 months of being treated for cancer and my three previous treatments (four, if you count the surgery I had) nothing had yet affected my hair beyond a bit of thinning. This despite the fact that my first-ever treatment (Taxol) was widely known to cause hair loss for "everyone." I had been fortunate with this particular side effect in a narrow way that I have absolutely not been on a broader scale. "Maybe," I had let myself think, "I can have this one thing." The odds were in my favor too; only 38% of people in clinical trials being treated with Saci lost their hair. I liked the odds of being in the 62% who didn't. But--as we all felt deep in our gut while they counted votes in battleground states--odds aren't everything.

I had come to treat the "strength" of my hair as a kind of relative consolation (though as with everything cancer "strength," "weakness," and the rhetoric of battle have nothing to do with outcomes). I treasured still having it, not just out of vanity (though I have always loved my hair whatever length, style, or color it has been) but because it allowed me to pass among regular people as one of them. I had no visible markers of the illness that is killing me, concealed as first the tumor and then the scars were by my clothing. "You look wonderful," people would tell me, even when I suffered from stress fractures from nothing more than running or sneezing; muscle spasms in my shoulder and nerve death in my fingertips; nausea that I swallowed with swigs from my water bottle that just made me look all the more like a hydration-conscious athlete; and profound, constant, and debilitating fatigue. Invisible illness had its own perils but I would take them--take all of them at once if necessary!--if only I could keep my hair and look normal.

It was not to be. A part of me had known this, since a lifetime with metastatic cancer means a lifetime of treatments a solid proportion of which result in hair loss. But I had hoped. And I had liked the odds.

The hardest thing for me is having to give up this particular consolation before knowing whether or not my new treatment is also working on my cancer. Unfortunately, there really isn't a correlation between side effects like hair loss and effectiveness of treatment. If it is working then I will feel that--like the election to which I felt I had karmically contributed--it was all completely worth it. Yet, even in this best case scenario, there's a new reality for me which is that while I am on this treatment I will stay bald. When you are a chronic patient you hope for a treatment that will work well with manageable side effects. And if this treatment works--and if the other side effects are as ok-ish as they are now--then I will remain on it.

It's that future that I am furious about more than anything else. I want to continue to live my life, of course, but I don't want to have to do it bald! In part that is because I don't want to register to people constantly as an archetypal "cancer patient" when I know that I am so much more. It is also in part because I don't want to think of myself as being ill, and living every day having to disguise my absent hair will make that all the tougher. I have already noticed that I feel, physically, as though I am sicker because of my constantly shedding hair. How could I not, in some ways, when every move I make and every glance at myself (including in endless Zoom windows) shows me this highly visible change?

For that reason, I'm shaving my remaining hair tomorrow (Wednesday). It's a way to feel less disempowered--less like hair loss is happening to me--and wrest control of the situation back. I will try to find agreeable things about it: wigs, scarves, cozy caps, bright lipstick, statement earrings, and a general punk/Mad Max vibe that is appropriate to 2020. But I don't want anyone to think for a second that I find this agreeable, or even acceptable, or that I don't mind. I mind a whole hell of a lot. My hair was my consolation prize, my camouflage, my vanity, my folly, and my battle cry.

I dyed it purple when I was first diagnosed because I knew (or thought I knew) that I would be losing it soon. I didn't, and I came to cherish it as a symbol of my boldness in the face of circumstances trying to oppress me, to make me shrink, to tempt me to become invisible. I refused and used it to "shout" all the louder in response. Because of what it came to mean to me, I'm nearly as sad about losing the purple as I am about losing the hair itself. It both symbolized the weight I was carrying and also that I would not let that weight grind me down. It was my act of resistance and my sign resilience all at once.

I sent a text to my friends, explaining this and offering, as an idea, that I could "pass the purple" to them in some way, small or large. It would feel more like handing off a torch or a weight (or the One Ring) than anyone shaving their head in solidarity. (After all, if they did that it would just remind me as I watched theirs grow back that, in fact, our positions were very different.) You're welcome to do it if you'd like too, internet friends, with temporary or permanent dye or a wig or a headband or one of those terrible 90s hairwraps or whatever. But I don't require that anyone do it because I feel support from you all in myriad ways, all the time. (But if you do, please send me pictures!)

It's November 2020. The election is over and Joe Biden has won. I still have cancer and I'll be bald tomorrow. I hope it's a turning point, both personal and global, because it feels like one. We've given up a lot in the last four years and I cannot say that I feel in any way peaceful or accepting about having to give up yet one more thing. But in losing my hair I absolutely refuse to also give up my hope.

(On our walk we did also seem to find a version of The Tower, all that was left of an abandoned house)

#life update #my life as a cancer patient #stage 4 #mbc #metastatic breast cancer #losing my hair #unfair things #election 2020 #I just have a lot of feelings #the tower #us politics

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psychosistr · 3 years

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Green-Eyed Monsters- Chapter 2

Summary: Dominic and Steelbeak successfully sneak into the soiree and identify their target, but personal feelings and a pair of lovely ladies from SHUSH might throw a wrench into their plans.

Notes: Behold, the first OC’s outside of Domino to be featured in this series- @starlightmoth ‘s SHUSH OC Xaviera, and my double-agent OC Maravilla! These two are very sweet together and I was super excited to include them, so I hope you guys will enjoy them too x3 Also, I slipped a few references to my previous stories in this chapter- see if you can guess them before reaching the end ;3

-First Chapter-

Steelbeak’s flashy gold-painted Lincoln Continental drove up the winding driveway leading to the duo’s destination for the evening. In any other situation, the car would stand out like a purebred show-dog at a junkyard. For tonight, however, it was just another gaudy and over-decorated transport lining the absurdly long path to a building larger and more brightly lit than any skyscraper in Saint Canard could ever HOPE to be.

Choosing to park his car rather than leave it in the hands of the valet (no one touched that car without his permission- forget about actually driving it), Steelbeak pulled into a parking space further away from the main driveway but closer to the back entrance. The location would make it easier to sneak in and out unnoticed, though it would also be a more suspicious location if security noticed the vehicle; they’d have to get in and out as quickly as possible.

When they exited the vehicle, the chief officer and his partner were dressed in outfits far different from their usual attire: Dominic had left behind his iconic coat and hat, instead donning a simple white button up shirt with a turn down collar beneath a more elaborate black tailcoat with thin vertical white stripes, black buttons, and bright red lapels with a matching red boater flat top hat that had a white hat band with a black buckle, giving it the vague semblance of a domino- the whole outfit accessorized simply with a dark red tie, a domino-shaped tie pin, and a black diamond-studded Crowlex hidden beneath the cuff of his sleeve. Never one to be outdone by his partner, Steelbeak had also left his usual white suit behind in favor of a far more expensive tuxedo featuring a white pleated button up shirt with a turn down collar and clear gemstone-style button studs, a black tuxedo jacket with a shimmering silver shawl collar and another pair of clear gemstone-style buttons, matching black pants, black pleated cummerbund, and a pair of freshly shined black patent leather cap toe shoes- all accessorized with the equally flashy additions of a black pointed-style bowtie, diamond cufflinks, a four-peak folded white silk pocket square, and a shiny silver watch emblazoned with diamonds. While a far cry from their usual style, the high-class suits would do a better job of camouflaging them with the high-society crowd mingling within the walls of their target’s billion dollar mansion.

Their target for the night was the owner of the lavish mansion before them, Emelia Malton- more specifically, they were after a pair of very valuable items that she had on her. According to FOWL’s intel, Emelia’s family was repeatedly ranked as the richest family in the world due to their cumulative net-worth amassed after years of running one of the most successful chain-stores on the planet. Despite her parents passing away a few months ago, the company had flourished under the young heiress and was now celebrating its ranking as the top-grossing chain-store in the world by hosting an extravagant party at her family’s home. Everyone on the guest list was considered the richest and/or most influential in their respective fields of business, so it was the perfect way for the wealthy woman to flaunt her affluence over her peers.

And what better way to do so than to show off her family’s prized possessions- the “Goddess’ Eyes”.

These “eyes” were the deadly duo’s target: A pair of nearly-impossible to acquire naturally green diamonds that could easily be priced at thirty-million dollars each. In addition to being ludicrously valuable, the gemstones were also the perfect conductors for FOWL’s newest thermonuclear based weapon for mass larceny and extortion on a global scale. They needed at least one of the incredibly rare diamonds for the device to function properly- preferably both so they could construct a second if the tests proved fruitful.

The only obstacle to obtaining the jewels was the mansion’s high-ranking security that was efficient enough to give the secret service a run for their money. Most of the time, the mansion’s security was so tight that even an army couldn’t breach their defenses. The only time the security was marginally lowered was for grand events- hence the required presence of the chief officer and his partner at the evening’s soiree.

Tonight would be the only chance for quite some time for FOWL to get their hands on the “Goddess’ Eyes” and they could NOT let it slip away.

With this goal in mind, Dominic and Steelbeak carefully made their way around the house to the garden and back-patio that had been converted into a slightly less-crowded outdoor lounge area for those seeking a reprieve from the bright lights and loud music indoors. Avoiding the cameras and creeping under the windows to avoid detection, the pair of fowls managed to sneak unnoticed into the outdoor crowd before seamlessly slipping through the wide open back doors to join the larger crowd within the mansion’s main ballroom.

Steelbeak gave a low, impressed whistle once they were inside, looking around at the myriad of (likely over-priced) paintings, statues, and crystal adorned light fixtures. “Wow, this is some shindig, eh, Dom?”

“More like an excuse for people who’ve never known a hard day’s work in their lives to show off how much money they have in an attempt to feel superior to everyone else in the room.” The (truthful) observation was accompanied by a slight scowl when an older woman in a satin dress wearing more jewelry than her plastic-surgery altered body should have been able to support without falling over passed by the two less ostentatiously dressed fowls.

Steelbeak gave a quiet snicker at his partner’s cynical view as they weaved their way through the crowd in an attempt to find a less heavily clustered spot with a better view of their surroundings. “Can’t argue with ya there, short fuse. I’m fightin’ my instincts REAL’ hard right now- I used t’ swipe rocks an’ cash offa chumps like these all the time when I was a kid…pick a few pockets here an’ we’d be set for life…”

“Focus on the rocks we’re after first, then you can have your fun on the way out.” Reaching one of the multiple full bars setup along the sides of the room, Dominic took a moment to properly observe his surroundings. It was hard to pick out any particular faces in such a large crowd, but, as red eyes caught sight of the grand bifurcated marble staircase draped in red carpet and ornate black handrails, a thought occurred to him: What better place to lord your wealth over a room full of billionaires than the highest point where they’d all have to literally look up to you? “Up there.”

Grey eyes soon followed the darker fowl’s gaze up the split stairs to where they met again on the next floor to form a small balcony overlooking the ballroom before branching out to the rest of the upper level. Leaning against the railing to look down on the party below was a tall, statuesque pearl white marble fox with long silver hair that fell past her shoulders in elegant waves. She was dressed in a classy black strapless evening gown with a beaded sweetheart-cut top in a snug mermaid cut that left very little to the imagination about her rather curvy figure and long legs, even with the gown reaching the floor beneath her. Like many other women attending the grand gala, she was bedecked with an arrangement of jewels such as a silver cocktail ring with a sizeable emerald at its center surrounded by much smaller white diamonds, a set of bangles encrusted with green garnets, a three-strand choker necklace of shimmering green stones with silver chains and white diamond accents, and, most noticeably of all, the pair of very large and very flashy drop-pendant earrings hanging from the base of each of her black-spotted ears with a plethora of small white diamonds around both the connecting points on her ears and around the sizeable brilliant-cut green diamonds in the center that perfectly matched the fox’s own sparkling green eyes. Everything about the woman screamed elegance and superiority compared to nearly everyone else in attendance.

Even without seeing her picture during High Command’s earlier briefing, the woman would be unmistakable as the party’s hostess, Emelia Malton. While Dominic knew she would be showing off her family’s most valuable possessions, he hadn’t expected her to have the “Goddess’ Eyes” turned into such readily visible trinkets. Then again, he mused, having them fashioned into a pair of earrings certainly made a statement that was impossible to ignore and, admittedly, would be harder to swipe than something like a necklace or ring. The woman was also no fool, it seemed, for while her security had been lowered enough for two uninvited guests to sneak in, Emelia herself (and likely most of the other valuables on the upper floor), were being diligently guarded by several large men in basic black suits spread out across the length of the staircase. Keen red eyes noted that each man was carrying at least one concealed firearm, and that there were a few more guards scattered about the lower floor near all of the doorways.

This definitely ruled out the chance of sneaking up on the fox since the security would see them coming from a mile away. A simple swiping was off the table as well, even if they could get close to her, as there was no way they’d be able to remove the earrings undetected. And, to top it all off, even if they DID somehow manage to get the diamonds off of her person, they’d be forced to fight their way through a small battalion of heavily armed guards and a crowd of frightened party-goers. Somehow, they needed to not only get on the same level as Emelia, but also draw her away from her security detail if they were to have any chance of-

“Dang, now that’s what I call a sweet pair.”

Dominic could swear he heard the bones in his neck pop from the speed and intensity with which he turned his head to stare incredulously at his partner. The expression soon hardened into a stern glare as the loon crossed his arms over his chest. “You are talking about the earrings, RIGHT?”

Steelbeak seemed completely unphased by the chilling amount of ice that the darker bird addressed him with- he seemed far too preoccupied examining the heiress with a look that was far too appreciative for the aquatic avian’s liking. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout alotta things, red eyes…” He gave another impressed whistle before (finally) tearing his eyes away from the woman on the upper floor to look down at his (clearly agitated) partner. “Why didn’t ya warn me she was such a knockout?”

“I wouldn’t know, she’s not exactly my type.” The loon huffed and rolled his eyes with a displeased scowl. “Now, if you’re done drooling over her, can we please get back to figuring out a way to get what we came here for?”

Steelbeak was either too distracted looking at the foxy woman above him or was just plain feigning ignorance of the other man’s soured mood, and, honestly, Dominic wasn’t sure which would have angered him more at this point. “Oh, don’t think for a sec’ that I can’t do both- I’m a pretty good multitasker.” Dark grey eyes drifted back up to admire the lady of the manor while the gleaming beak below them had a smirk that spoke volumes’ worth of its owner’s intentions.

Before Dominic could decide between hitting the taller fowl in the back of the head to forcefully change his focus or the equally tempting option of grabbing an unattended drink from the nearby bar-top and dumping it on the rooster to help him cool his head off, a female voice surprised them both.

“Well, well…if it isn’t Chief Officer Steelbeak. Long time no see~” The deadly duo turned their heads just in time to see a lady in a sleeveless red gown with a semi-sweetheart neckline, an asymmetrical cut that ended at one knee before diagonally ending an inch below the other, and a rather provocative slit cut into the shorter side above her black-stocking covered legs was holding a half-full glass of red wine in her purple hand while regarding them with an amused expression. The woman appeared to be a purplish jay, judging by the plumage on her exposed arms and her purple beak accentuated with black lipstick that matched her eyeliner (which was only a few shades darker than the black feathers of her face). Her black hair was tied back in a simple but elegant bun with a few stray locks left out to frame her face, the bun itself held in place with a decorative golden hair-comb that made it look like she had several gleaming marigolds holding her hair back. Marigolds, Dominic quickly noted, seemed to be a theme among the woman’s accessories, as she also had one made of black onyx on a golden chain around her neck, a matching stone on her golden cocktail ring, and the pair of spiraled golden bracelets styled like leaf vines that covered her wrists and forearms with small golden marigolds placed sporadically across the intricate golden loops; even her shoes, which at first glance appeared to be a simple pair of black suede t-strap shoes with a tall, thick golden heel, secretly contained a small red marigold locked away in their see-through midsection.

Steelbeak, who seemed unphased by the woman’s knowledge of his name, simply smirked down at the jaybird knowingly. “Well, look what the cat dragged in…ain’t seen you in a while, Mara- was beginnin’ t’ think ya ditched us for a cushy desk job under ol’ grizzle-face.”

The marigold-bedecked lady gave a dry chuckle as she swirled the wine in her glass. “And miss out on the chance to see you make a fool of yourself for thinking you actually know how to talk to a woman? Not on your life~”

Rather than looking offended, Steelbeak just laughed his usual nasally, clipped laughter and shook his head. “Hey, I know how t’ talk t’ women- just not women like you.”

“Of course not.” The purpled fowl said before taking a sip of her wine. “After all, you never were very good at handling women you had no chance with.” Looking up from the depths of her drink, she found a pair of eyes in an even more intense shade of red boring into her. “I don’t believe we’ve met. You are…?”

“I’m his partner- agent Domino.” Dominic gave the brightly dressed jay a once over, but still couldn’t shake the sense of unease and agitation this woman’s presence seemed to bring him. The feeling bothered him so much that he completely missed the slightly disappointed look in the chief officer’s eyes before he buried whatever feeling had surfaced in the back of his mind again. “High Command didn’t say anything about dispatching any other agents for this mission…”

Black lipstick curled upwards ever so slightly as the purple beak gained a small smirk to it. “That’s because I’m not here with FOWL……I’m here with SHUSH.”

Steelbeak must have anticipated his partner’s reaction, because no sooner had Dominic started reaching for his concealed weapons than the lighter fowl’s hand had positioned itself in front of the loon’s chest to stop any potential altercations. “Agent Maravilla here’s one of the best double agents we’ve got: She’s been spyin’ on SHUSH for years now an’ helps us take ‘em down from the inside.”

Dominic’s stance relaxed just enough that he no longer looked like he was going to shoot the double agent…for now… “Why is SHUSH here?”

“Oh, there’s a few targets of interest here.” Maravilla’s dark eyes glanced up towards the party’s hostess, a knowing look clear behind the playful smirk on her face. “SHUSH may have also gotten a tip that FOWL would be making a move tonight…though I have no idea who they would have heard that from~”

Red eyes narrowed suspiciously at the purplish jay. “No, I’m sure you wouldn’t…”

Steelbeak, once again sensing his partner’s growing tension and ire, chose to redirect the conversation while keeping his attention on the femme fatale. “If ya know why we’re here, then ya wanna lend a hand? We could use a distraction for the guards t’ shoot at.”

“That does sound like a good time…” The jay’s dark eyes went back to Steelbeak, looking seriously like she was contemplating the offer, but ultimately decided against it. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline this time.” With a sigh, she tilted the remnants of her wine within its glass at a sharp angle, the movement indicating something behind her. “Gryzlikoff doesn’t trust me on my own in the field anymore, so he’s started giving me babysitters..”

The pair of fiendish fowls followed the angle of the red liquid with their eyes to one of the other bars set up across the room on the other side of the dance floor. While there were several people crowded around the high-dollar booze, there was one person in particular who seemed to be purposefully avoiding looking in their direction…or rather, avoiding looking directly at them- they were subtly keeping an eye on the FOWL trio’s exchange using the reflection of their half-full glass on the bar-top (it looked like a simple shirley temple, judging by the clear soda and cherries, a far cry from the champagne and various hard liquors of the other barflies). A sneaky little trick that only someone as cunning and secretive as a spy or special agent would think to utilize.

The person in question appeared to be a vulture with feathers in a multitude of shades ranging from white on her head, to slightly darker shades of grey, yellow, brown, and even black the lower down one looked on the exposed parts of her plumage, with the feathers on her hand and the ends of her tail feathers both being the darkest points. Her hair was…interesting, to say the least- it appeared to have been shaved away along the sides to a peak in the center before being allowed to grow freely and flow down to the middle of her back, almost like a long Mohawk but without the necessary and excessive amounts of hair gel. A pair of rectangular-rimmed glasses rested on her beak as she kept a vigilant eye on her fellow SHUSH agent, the makeup around them kept simple with black wingtip eyeliner and a modest amount of golden eyeshadow. The eye shadow matched both the sheer golden shawl draped over her shoulders that kept her right arm hidden from view, the golden goddess-style sandals that peeked out from the hem of her dress whenever she moved her long legs, and the glittering golden pattern of vertical lines along the bottom of her green sleeveless floor-length halter-top gown.

Steelbeak gave the agent a subtle once-over before looking back down at Maravilla. “She don’t look that tough…want us t’ help ya get a little more breathin’ room without your nanny there watchin’ ya like a hawk?”

The double agent was quick to shake her head, but kept her expression calm and impassive. “It would be best not to. If anything happens to her, you’ll have more SHUSH agents swarming this party than you’d care to deal with- the only reason she hasn’t called them in already is because I told her you’d probably escape in the chaos.” The corner of her purple beak quirked up in an amused smirk. “Besides…this one’s fun, I think I’ll keep her around for a while~”

The larger bird shrugged his shoulders. “If ya say so, Mara.” Dark grey eyes went back up to the party’s hostess. “Guess we’ve just got one more obstacle between us an’ that pretty little thing up there.”

Maravilla looked up towards the balcony as well, her expression briefly mirroring Steelbeak’s earlier appreciative glances before she looked back to the man in question with a mischievous gleam in her dark eyes. “You know…we could do what we did back in Rio…”

Steelbeak let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “Ya mean when ya left ME holdin’ the bomb? No thanks, doll- a little fun with you ain’t worth THAT much trouble.”

A giggle born of dark amusement was barely covered up by the jaybird’s purple fingertips. “Aw, it wasn’t that bad, was it? It did work, after all~” She leaned in closer to the metal mouthed fowl, two fingers from her free hand slowly walking up his chest as she spoke. “Besides…you know you enjoyed it…even if I did come out on top in the end~”

Dominic could feel the already frayed thread holding his last bit of patience beginning to snap. A much darker hand blocked the purple one’s path and, once the multicolored bird stepped away just enough, he placed himself solidly between his partner and the infuriating femme fatale- red eyes glaring down with more venom than even his heavily-laced voice could muster. “I think we’ll be just fine thinking of a plan without you.”

The lady in red seemed momentarily taken aback by the loon’s defensiveness, but it didn’t last more than a second before her face had resumed its seemingly natural state of amusement. “Very well, if you insist.” She turned to leave, but not before looking at the chief officer over her shoulder with a wink that was either flirty, conspiratorial, or both. “If you change your mind, you know what to do~” And with that, she vanished into the vibrant crowd.

Dominic glared after her with a rather noticeable scowl on his face, even after she was long gone from his sight. If she tried that sort of thing again, he’d-

“Wow, didn’t know you were the jealous type, short fuse.” An amused voice teased him from behind.

“I am not jealous.” Looking over his shoulder, Dominic was not at all surprised to see the taller man smirking down at him. “I just don’t trust agents like her..” Moles, infiltrators, spies, double agents- whatever name they went by, Dominic had a VERY negative outlook on them in general after the fall of his base up north.

“Uh huh.” One of the lighter fowl’s eyebrows was quirked in a way that matched his sarcastic tone perfectly. “An’ I’m sure Mara puttin’ her hands on me had nothin’ t’ do with it, right?”

The loon felt his face heat up, but kept his stern scowl firmly in place. “I was just making sure she didn’t try anything. She IS working for SHUSH right now- they could order her to attack at any moment, and I don’t believe for a second she’d have a problem following that command. Looking out for your safety is part of my job- I’m your partner.” If called out for it, he would have vehemently denied any accusations regarding the possessive tone that had slipped into his voice on that last statement.

Dark grey eyes rolled slightly as the rooster huffed. “Yeah, so ya keep sayin’…”

That…actually gave the darker fowl pause. Steelbeak sounded almost…offended? Disappointed? Frustrated? “What d-”

Before he could get his question out- or even figure out what it was going to be- Steelbeak had slipped out from behind him and was venturing into the crowd in a different direction than Maravilla had gone. “Forget it- I’m takin’ Mara up on her offer. Just stand by an’ watch my back, partner.”

Dominic was so taken aback by his partner’s attitude that he just stood there- frustrated, confused, and wondering what else could possibly go wrong tonight…

____________________________________________________________

Across the room, Maravilla had returned to the vacant seat next to her fellow SHUSH agent- said agent looking less than thrilled with her antics. “Have you lost your mind? Do you know who that is?!” While she tried to look stern, it was clear that the taller bird was more worried than angry.

Maravilla took her seat and looked up at the vulture with a calm expression. “Yes, I know who he is. More importantly, he knows me from work.” She set her now-empty glass down on the bar-top. “If he saw me and I didn’t say anything to him first, it would look suspicious- I have to maintain my cover, Xaviera.”

Xaviera’s previous look lost its façade of sternness, leaving just the concern. “I…suppose you have a point there…” She quickly shook her head, giving the purplish jay a pleading look. “But you have to be more careful from now on. If Steelbeak or that other one find out you’re here with SHUSH, things could get dangerous.”

Instead of looking scared or worried by her fellow agent’s (very accurate and completely valid) warning, an almost daydreamy smile found its way to Maravilla’s face. “Oooh, I hope it does~” A purple fingertip began idly tracing the rim of her empty glass as she stared off into space, apparently fantasizing over the possibilities. “His partner looked like he wanted to shoot me- do you think he would? He certainly seems the type~ Maybe they’ll try using me as a living shield so they can escape~ I wonder if they have a helicopter waiting to pick them up- do you think they’d throw me out of-?”

“Mari, please.” The blond bird placed her hand over one of Maravilla’s with a sincere, worried look easily visible in her eyes. “I know this is all fun and games to you, but it worries me when you put yourself in danger like that. Please promise me- no getting shot at, no drinking poison, no crashing through windows, and no jumping out of helicopters. Please…for me…?”

Maravilla looked up into the taller woman’s eyes and, after a moment, gave a soft sigh. “Fine…for you, mi cielo.” She then turned her hand over so that their fingers were now entwined before lifting both of their hands up so she could place a light kiss to the darker fingers laced between her own. “You’re lucky I can’t say ‘no’ to such a lovely lady~”

Xaviera’s face instantly flushed red all the way down to her neck, her demeanor changing instantly from concerned to flustered. “I-I..uh..that is..I-I just..!” Her attempts to find the proper words were completely dashed when the jaybird winked at her, causing the vulture to (somehow) turn even redder. The only thing that came out of her beak after that was a chirp before she gave up and pressed her overheated forehead against the cool bar-top in front of her.

In doing so, the golden shawl that had been draped around her shoulders came loose, revealing the rest of her previously hidden right arm. The arm ended just before the area where her elbow should have been, the feathers a bit darker around the end of the limb and some scar tissue visible within her plumage at the very bottom of the stump. A few of the more nosy and gossip-loving individuals nearby took notice and started to whisper amongst themselves.

When a stern, almost threatening pair of purple eyeshadow rimmed eyes looked at each of them, however, they suddenly found better things to entertain themselves with and either walked away or simply averted their attention before the vulture even lifted her head to notice their presence. “Getting back to the matter at hand,” Maravilla said while gently readjusting the taller woman’s shawl back to its previous position. “I think I have a way for us to get access to Ms.Malton’s personal files.”

That seemed to snap the bespectacled bird out of her embarrassment. Quickly sitting back up, she looked down at the darker fowl with intrigue. “Really? How?” When the double agent’s eyes flicked briefly in the direction she’d come from earlier, Xaviera instantly shook her head. “You just said-”

“I won’t do anything dangerous, I promise.” Maravilla gave the darker hand still held in hers a reassuring squeeze before continuing. “Those two are after the ‘Goddess’ Eyes’ on Ms.Malton’s earrings, so they’ll try to get her alone. If our data is right, the best place to do that will be in her room. We’ll use them as bait to lure her away from the party, then I can slip in behind them and get my hands on the information Gryzlikoff and Hooter asked for. I’ll be in and out before those two figure out I’ve played them.”

“And if they do figure it out?” Xaviera asked with a mix of skepticism and concern.

Maravilla just smiled coyly up at the taller woman. “Then I’ll have you nearby to bail me out, mi cielo~” While her companion clearly had more to say on the matter, a change in the style of music the band was playing caught the purple fowl’s attention. “Ah, looks like Steelbeak’s taking me up on my offer.” She stood up, removed her flowery hair-comb, and placed it in the vulture’s hand with a wink. “Hold onto this for me, Xavi~” And with that she shook her hair out, allowing the natural waves to cascade down to her lower back and reveal the vibrant purple undertone that had previously been hidden while it was pinned, and made her way towards the dance floor- leaving behind a very confused (and flustered) Xaviera.

<--Previous Chapter Next Chapter-->

End Notes: Okay, so, here are all of the references I packed into this chapter-

Steelbeak’s suit is brand new because he followed through on his promise to himself to burn the suit he wore on his first failed dinner-date with Domino.

Domino is wearing the watch that Steelbeak gifted him way back in the first chapter of the series x3

Steelbeak’s cuff-links are the same as the ones he gave Domino as a gift during their first failed dinner-date.

Also, not related to the rest of the series, but I based Emelia’s family off of the Walton’s- the absurdly wealthy family that founded Wal~Mart.

#darkwing duck #dwd #steelbeak #Dominic Domino #steeldomino #xaviera #double agent maravilla #not my oc #and #my OC #darkwing duck oc #dwd oc #green-eyed monsters

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inkheart01 · 3 years

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Escape from the Stars

Prologue (1/??)

Life was simple when they were just kids worrying about exams and homework and that cute date next week, it was easy when finals and work were the most pressing matters, when worrying about that math test you crammed for was eating at you like an illness. But now they're fighting for their lives and every moment could be there last.

It wasn't supposed to be this way, it was just supposed to be another summer, another camp. It was supposed to be fun, a way to de-stress, a getaway from life's worries, even for a week. But life rarely likes to make things easy.

So i thought i would stick this up here seeing as i’ve put it up almost everywhere else and love talking about this. Ask me anything about EFTS and i will give you an essay. These guys have one braincell between the lot of them and its permanently on vacation. Please send them help.

Cold, harsh rain lashed against the imposing concrete building, forcing any who had dared be outside to turn back and head for shelter. Lightning split the sky, brilliant and bright enough to see the array of radar dishes spanning far into the horizon over the dusty earth.

Turning away from the windows and to the inhabitants of the building, scurrying around frantically in their pristine lab coats, clutching their clipboards and shouting orders, he clicked, the sound losing itself amid the chaos. Truly an overreaction for the fierce storm outside. They were perfectly safe in the building.

Perfectly safe…

“Jade, let’s go!” “Mum! Where's my passport?” “What!” “My passport! I can't find it!” “Did you check my bag?” “...thanks!”

The spindly form slinking through the shadows stopped, humming silently. Perhaps they weren't afraid of the storm, but what it could conceal. He had certainly used it for his gain, if the wreck outside had anything to say.

Another hum was followed by a mechanical hiss and a sharp inhale. These small creatures couldn’t help him if they were panicked out of their minds.

Slipping silently down the hall and into a dark room, the creature allowed a smile to pass his usually emotionless composure, needle teeth glinting like ivory. Here was the vent opening he was looking for, at just the right height for him to get into the air filtration system. He lowered the hologram that camouflages him with his surroundings as he reached for the metal grate.

“Of course I’m on my way...what, no. The bus will be here any second...I told you-oh. Give me a second...yeah. Ian!” “Hey Rochelle, Have you seen Adam? “Yeah, I’m on a call with him, his mums driving him to the station.” “Thanks. He wasn't answering me and I got worried.”

Nimble fingers slipped into the gaps before a scream split his composure. With a growl, he covered his ringing ear and whipped towards the scientist.

They were backed against a wall, shaking like a leaf behind a purple clipboard as he ripped the cover off. The human trembled as they adjusted the glasses slipping down their nose, wide eyes never leaving him.

Moving slowly, he dropped the grate as he approached the petrified scientist, a thin wisp of blue leaving his maw to pool on the ground like fog.

As he leant down, ruby eyes casting a soft glow on their face, the scientist’s body-wracking trembles slowly stopped, leaving them swaying and yawning, and with eyes wide in even more terror. He briefly wondered if he had used too much, and then they went limp.

“Pocket knife?” “Check.” “Taser?” “Check.” “Walkie-talkie?” “Check. We’ve gone through this half a dozen times. I have everything.” “Calle, you know we worry.”

He swore and wrapped one of his thin sets of arms around the body that moved bonelessly. Guilt slowly seized control of him, because next time he would need to be far more careful. Arms still around them, he cleared the desk hidden in the dark and positioned the scientist on the chair, draping them over the table.

Once he deemed it an acceptable, albeit not desirable, sleeping position, he returned to the vent. Too much time had been wasted on this lone scientist.

With a grunt, he slithered in, slim limbs pulling and pushing him through. He had a layout of the vent system, but everything was much different when inside. Taking a left, he hoped he was going the right way as a fork in the path came up.

Not five minutes later and he was pretty certain that he was lost. Every turn looked the same and the map he had memorised was just turning into a jumble of lines. He was seconds away from cursing out every god he knew when a small breeze brushed softly against his face.

Oh. There we go.

‘Come on, Jade. The plane leaves in two hours!’ ‘I’ll be there, Jemma. I promise. Traffic’s just a pain.’ ‘I told you to take the train with me to avoid this.’ ‘Mum insisted’ “My baby’s all grown up!” ‘Oh...well...just hurry. Please?’

Breathing deeply, a wisp of soft blue left his mouth again, muddling in with the filtered air and staining the metal. It travelled quickly, spinning and dancing through the heavier air, joined by more and more strands until the vent was nothing but blue.

Slowly, ever so agonisingly slowly, the screams died down, leaving an eerie and suffocating silence that closed in like a wet blanket.

As he crawled back through the vents, he wondered if, again, it had been too much. He knew he had restrained himself this time. He knew. But Humans were fragile, their bodies so easily breakable and their self-destructive tendencies could have made them even weaker.

Surely not, he rationalised, he had been careful, using much less and being oh so picky with the intent. He had intended to calm them down, and unlike the first time, there was no trace of drowsiness in his intent.

They were so terrifyingly fragile. And so completely at his mercy. For any of his kind, the amount would barely be enough for their emotions to calm. And yet. And yet on a human, they were oh so delicate.

“Anna, anything we need?” “Nope. Last month's stock up is more than enough.” “Good. River, anything we should know?” “No boss. All the money is sorted.” “Don't take any this time. Sam, is the gear ready?” “Of course. I cleaned it all yesterday.” “Anika, Dan. Is everything planned?” “Naturally. We have everything sorted.” “Let’s keep them entertained, shall we. Emily, how’s the hideout?” “Andy made strawberry cake!”

Nearing an exit, he pushed his thoughts deep down, turning his focus instead on the cover he had to get through. It was easier than the last, considering the bodies slumped in the hall, yawning and engulfed in blue.

As he slipped silently from the vents, wincing at the harsh red light and silent alarm that blared through the building, he noticed quite a few of the dazed scientists would gasp weakly, struggling to get their tired bodies to respond enough to escape his presence. It was a futile endeavour, but a few did manage to flop onto the cold tile. Perhaps some could withstand his particular set of skills, he would need to look into it more. If he planned to stay.

He hummed as he stepped carefully over the unresponsive forms, ever so sweetly moving through the halls. The room he needed was closer to the other side of the complex.

“Quick! We have to leave now!” “This is a bad idea. Arlajullian’s going to kill you.” “Well, I’ll deal with her when she catches on.” “Milkanaheilm!” “Shush, they’ll hear you!” “Like there not going to hear us leave.”

Moving through hallway after hallway with barely any noise, it wasn’t long before he reached his destination. The communications room was like another dimension, dark and vibrant with a red glow amid buttons and screens, his glowing blue mist staining the floor. It was thinner here, not so much the opaque fog, but more like thin wafts of a dying campfire.

A soft groan pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see one of the rooms only other inhabitants pulling themselves up against one of the consoles, reaching desperately for a large button.

Humming, the creature moved quickly to the human’s side, lifting their thrashing body out of the fog.

“I’m warning you”, he spoke, language broken and voice as soft as he could get, “Prepare. Your kind’s in danger”

#efts #escapefromthestars #Escape from the stars #original character #my writing #aliens #alien oc #so many aliens #like holy hell theres a lot of aliens #aliens tw #original characters tw

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bigfrozenfan · 4 years

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Frozen III fanfic - Part 7

The Secret of the Northuldra

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six.

It was just before sunset when they reached Arendelle, Mattias' timing had been correct. They rode right through the upper rock gate and all the splendour of their homeland opened before them. When they left two days ago they still had the journey ahead of them and did not look back. But now they had Arendelle in front of them and the view from up here was overwhelming. The fields on the mountain slopes glowed in intense colours, from the gold of the wheat, through rich green and yellow of different crops for humans and animals, to a bright mixture of colours from the many fields of flowers used for decoration and for sale in shops and at the market of Arendelle. In the harbour the ships and boats rocked in the soft, warm breeze and behind the majestic castle of the royal family, bathed in the orange light of the setting sun, the calm waters of the Arenfjord glittered.

Mattias could not tear himself away from the sight and gently brought his horse to a halt. Halima did the same and looked over to him. He had a dreamy expression on his face. She had to smile. She could understand his feelings, as harvest time was approaching and his homeland showed itself to him in all its beauty and fertility. She was looking forward to the harvest festival. This time they would celebrate it together.

Finally they rode slowly and they heard the bell at the clock tower in the distance strike seven times. On the way down they passed Halima's cozy little cottage and they reined the horses. Mattias jumped boldly out of the saddle and walked around the horse to help Halima get off.

"Mattias! You jump off your horse as if you were still the lieutenant from back then. Remember that you are not young anymore. You could easily sprain your ankle," she said laughing and shook her head over his exuberance.

He grinned and helped her dismount. "Don't worry, dearest, I'm not that old." They held each other in their arms and looked at each other in love. Time seemed to stand still for a moment. Then he kissed her tenderly and she lifted one foot in rapture.

When they separated again he gave her a last short kiss on her cheek as a farewell. "I must ride to the castle now to take care of everything before nightfall. I will see you later. I'll pick you up for dinner."

"All right, darling. I'll just go down to the library and drop off some books. I'd forgotten to bring them back before we left. I hope it's still open. I'll see you later."

***

"General Mattias. May I have a word, please?" He saluted him and Mattias nodded.

"What's it, Captain?"

"Well, I... am a little confused. I see you, but where are the queen and her fiancé? Has something happened?" His gaze showed a mixture of amazement and concern, but Mattias also noticed a slight hint of anger on his face.

"You have nothing to worry about. She is well and she is still with her sister Elsa. She'll be back in two days."

"With all due respect, Sir, but you left without any protection from her guards and now you're returning alone? That's-"

"Irresponsible, you mean?" Mattias gruffly interrupted the young, overzealous captain of the guard. But he looked at him favorably. "She is in the best of hands with Elsa, no bodyguard in the world could protect her better than she. Have you forgotten what she did last autumn to save us all from the flood? Well...?"

The captain became a little pale around the nose and stuttered, unsure what to answer, "Um... yes, well... in that sense, of course, you're right, Sir, I just thought I... I mean..."

"That's all right, Captain. You're just doing your duty and being very observant, that's fine. Keep up the good work. But if you'll excuse me now, i have important business to attend to." Mattias turned and left the captain stood speechless.

***

Of course, it had only been half the truth and he had to lie partly; Mattias thought, but in this situation it was necessary not to tell the captain everything.

Finally, only one thing remained to be done. He had to find two reliable people to accompany him. He already knew who.

When he stepped outside again it had already become dark and the courtyard was bathed in the flickering light of the fire bowls and some big torches. He had fresh horses brought and rode to his home. On the way, however, he stopped briefly to visit two of his old comrades who were locked up with him in the Enchanted Forest. He could trust them absolutely. Among them was a woman who was supposed to take care of suitable camouflage clothes for Elsa. The man was supposed to get an inconspicuous wagon, some long weapons, food and everything else for such an action. Both of them did not ask any questions and immediately took care of this responsible task, with the intention not to arouse suspicion.

***

The host cleared away the leftovers of their dinner while they leaned back contentedly. He enquired how it had tasted to them.

"That was delicious," Halima said, smiling at the host and wiping the corner of a napkin over the corners of her mouth. "Compliments to the cook," she added as he left. Her eyes lit up at Mattias, who rubbed his belly with satiation.

"I must have overdone it a bit with the portion," he giggled and reached for his glass of red wine. "To your health, Halima."

"To us, Mattias," she said as she lifted her glass, toasting with him, while they looked each other in the eyes.

"How did it go at the castle?" Halima asked abruptly.

"Good. Everything is arranged and prepared. Everything is going according to plan."

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?"

"Before sunrise. On the one hand, we gain some time, because of the vehicle and on the other hand, there is hardly anyone on the streets and we will probably come out unnoticed. He paused. "How was it with you? Was the library still open?"

"Yes, barely. Mr. Oddvar was just about to close, but I was able to return the books."

***

Finally her breath became more regular and she fell asleep. This night could last forever if he had his way; he thought, if only there wasn't this little thing that she snores such like she does now. But at some point he got so tired that it didn't bother him any more and he fell asleep again, with a broad smile on his face.

***

It was already after midnight when Honeymaren stepped out of Elsa's kota and almost silently closed the flap behind her. Elsa had fallen asleep at some point and she didn't want to wake her up.

She looked up and watched the twinkling stars in the cloudless night sky. The moon had already set and so she was now standing there in deep black darkness. "Crap," she whispered softly to herself and turned towards her own Kota by feeling. She knew that she would also find the way blindly and it was not far away. Nevertheless, she moved forward very carefully, one arm stretched out in front of her, to notice trees or a hut in time.

***

"Hello, Gyda."

"Don't call me that, Yelana. You know very well I hate that nickname." She did not even look up when she answered in a dark and powerful voice, but continued to care for her traditional duodji. She just made one of the belts as they all wore it over the tunic here in camp. However, certain details onto it told Yelana that this belt was meant for an unmarried Northuldra.

"Well, Gyríðr, but don't you think we're both a bit old for this kind of subtlety?"

Gyda looked up briefly, swung her head back and forth in a judgmental manner and then continued with the work indifferent. Yelana took a look around the dwelling. It was full of old traditional items, including a richly decorated rare gievriej, a very old sacred troll drum, as the noajde used to use it for their rituals. This was long before the People of the Sun moved here near by Ahtohallan and the fifth Spirit was chosen among them. All that remained of the old tradition was the soul song of her tribe. But this one here must have been made by Gyda.

Yelana didn't know everything that was going on that time then, but she needed to know if Gyda had a child with him and could somehow hide it. She cleared her throat distinctly. "There have been disturbing events and I have an important inquiry."

Gyda didn't respond.

"Please!"

The elder woman paused and finally put her tools aside.

"Ask."

"Had the fifth spirit begotten a progeny with you?"

Gyda gave a short, dry laugh. "Are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten what happened back then?"

Yelana tightened her eyebrows. "No, of course not. But you've been living so far out here for so long that nobody notices anything, even if you're pregnant, if you know how to hide it. I need to know, and also who helped you."

"Even if it were, what do you care?" Gyda picked up her tools again.

"Wait. Please listen to me." Yelana sat down and told her everything, including her suspicion that Gyda's child might be responsible. Gyda listened to her attentively and asked no questions, only her gaze grew increasingly darkened. At the end she nodded and after a little while of consideration she finally answered quietly.

"Yes, I had a child with him, a boy. I gave him the name Kolgrimr." She hesitated, but then continued, "I was already pregnant when he abandoned me because I was no longer good enough for him and could no longer perform my duties as he expected of me to. You surely remember what he was like, how ruthless and pressing. But I wanted to protect my unborn child." She interrupted herself and took a deep breath. "I gave birth to the child some time later and Jonna helped me with. Then this king came from the south and all these strangers started to build this dam and ...," she faltered and looked sadly to the ground. "Sometime after the completion of this stony monster, he finally came back to me and told me something about a fraud and that the land was dying and the reindeer were suffering. He was so excited and angry, I can still remember it like it was yesterday."

"What happened next?" asked Yelana when Gyda lost herself in memories and did not continue speaking immediately.

"He took Kolgrimr from me. Said he had to make sure that his descendant would take over when he himself was no longer around. I didn't know what he meant then and I tried to stop him, but without success. I never saw him again and later heard that he was killed in his human form. Shortly afterwards the sun darkened and this fog came. You know the rest of the story."

"Yes, and Jonna also died fighting with the men of this dreadful king. I knew her quite well. I just don't understand why she never told me about it."

"Because she had to promise to me not to tell anybody."

Yelana understood and nodded. She felt pity for her, grabbed Gyda by the arm and said, "I'm very sorry for you, Gy-...Gyríðr. No one knew about your child, and none of us wanted you living here alone. None of us ever really got it right."

"It's not our folks' fault, I know. It was my own decision and I had my reasons."

"Have you ever seen your son again?"

Gyda looked up. Then she slowly and sadly shook her head, "No."

***

#frozen2 #f3 #plot idea #frozen 3 #frozen au #fanfic #part 7 #mine

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 years

Text

Blue Roses (M)

Author: @kpopfanfictrash , as part of Exordia Academy - a series of ongoing one shots with @underthejoon

Creative Content Contributors: moodboard by @baebae-goodnight (a GODDESS)

Pairing: reader / Sehun

Rating: 18 + (explicit sex)

Word Count: 9,833

Superpower: Invisibility

Summary: Sehun remembers the very first time he turned invisible. It was in his primary school days, he was performing Tap Solo #5 in the middle of the stage. Sehun entered from stage left, promptly forgetting the very first move. His legs faltered, mind went blank – and sudden screams erupted from the audience, when Sehun’s body disappeared. His family moved the next week. This kind of thing becomes normal, though – until the day Sehun is invisible, and you see him anyways. [ THIS IS A REPOST ]

• SEHUN •

Sehun stands invisible.

That’s not the odd part, what’s odd is that he’s considering the opposite. Standing rooted to the ground, Sehun considers becoming visible, letting others see him the way he truly is. He thinks abou walking the twenty or so paces to where she’s sitting and dropping the flower he holds into her lap. Sehun looks down at the rose in his hand, rolling his eyes when he realizes he can’t see it.

Sehun takes a step forward, then oen more back before he exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can do this, he knows that he can. It’s just that Desi is so pretty, with that long, flowing hair and smooth skin. She has the soft kind of lips, ones he can’t help but want to kiss. Sehun knows that he’s staring, knows that he’s looking but can’t bring himself to care. It doesn’t matter, not really because Desi can’t see him.

She turns, laughing at something her friend says and Sehun recoils away from the sound. He sighs. She can’t even see him, and he’s already nervous. Pushing a hand through his hair, Sehun lets blonde locks fall flat around his face. He hopes it makes him look nonchalant, since he feels desperately opposite.

Sehun has been crushing on Desi this entire year, ever since she arrived at Exordia Academy in August. The nickname is short for Desdemona, something Desi announced with a scowl on the very first day.

“Why would someone name their child after a tragedy?” she winced, shaking her head before looking pleadingly at their Philosophy class. “No, Desi is fine.”

Sehun sat up straight because for once, he wanted to be seen and Desi looked straight through him. That was the moment he realized, the moment Sehun decided to try and become more than what he is. When one has the capability to become invisble, it’s easy not to be seen. It’s an unfortunate habit of Sehun’s, because when there are no consequences for actions – what’s to stop him from just disappearing entirely?

It’s a lonely, boring life but it’s also a safe one. Strange, isn’t it, how humans detest change. Change is the great instigator, the wheel which turns the world and although it creates, it also destroys. Sehun would rather stay out of the fray, would rather sit invisible and watch because that’s what he’s good at.

With Desi though, Sehun wants to act. He wants to explain, to remove this lump from his throat and, staring at her now, Sehun swallows. He’s still standing behind this hedge, completely invisible and trying to convince himself not to be.

“You don’t want to give her that.”

Looking up, Sehun is startled to find you looking straight at him.

• Y/N •

Tilting your head, you finally interrupt the thoughts of the boy you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes. Or – huh, has it been five minutes? Frown tugging at your lips, you try to recall because honestly, time is hard for you.

He turns to look at you. Glancing down, he sees that yes, he’s invisible and yet here you are, talking to him. “I,” the guy pauses, shaking his head. “Are you talking to me?”

Nodding, you hop down from the wall you’re sitting on. “Yes, I’m looking at you. Do you see anyone else here?”

The guy pauses, obviously confused. “Well, no,” he manages. “But then – I don’t see myself, either. I’m currently invisible.”

Oh. “Ah,” you blush. “Right, sorry. You’re using a power, aren’t you? Camouflage?” Looking directly at him, you squint – as though trying to distinguish him from air. “Invisibility?”

“Invisibility,” Sehun blinks, before shaking his head. “Who are you?”

“Y/N,” you grin, sticking out your hand. “Power of precognition, nice to meet you.”

He continues to stare, now at your hand. “But,” the guy hesitates, unsure. “I’ve met people with precognition before and none of them could see me in the future, not when I was invisible.”

When he says this, your smile falters. “Yes, well – my precognition is rather odd. I see only one future, the true one. It’s odd,” you muse, expression thoughtful. “My precognition sees through certain powers. I can see Blocks when they’re turning off other powers, Empaths when they’re reflecting, Invisibility,” you add, waving your hand.

He quirks his head, now interested. “For everyone? Everywhere? Wow,” he laughs. “That’s quite a power. Oh,” he flushes, shaking his head. “And I’m sorry, I’m Sehun.”

“Hi, Sehun,” you respond, before your smile drops. “But no, I don’t see everything. Only my immediate surroundings and even then, only a few seconds into the future. If I care to use my power at all, that is. I try not to, but for some reason, I saw you.”

Sehun blinks. “So, what – you saw a future version of me?”

You shrug, turning to look at Desi. “About one-fifth of a second. I think. I’m seeing the true you now, the visible one. Its inconvenient,” you wince. “It’s an echo, I hear your words twice and have to wait for the right moment to respond.”

Sehun considers this, then shimmers into being and to everyone else, it must seem as though he’s stepped from thin air. “Helpful,” you smile. “It’s a headache to use my powers like that. Especially when I’m trying to see just one thing,” you sigh before, eyes widening, you whip suddenly around. “Watch out!”

A head jerks up from across the quad. It’s some guy – Baekhyun, you think? – who throws up his hand. A wall of water appears to block the frisbee spinning crazily towards him and Baekhyun scows, dropping both water and frisbee to glare at someone else between trees.

“Jongin, you ass!” Baekhyun yells. “No, don’t pull that crap on me – I know you know how to throw a frisbee. That’s your whole freaking power,” he fumes, stomping to where a very attractive guy lies cackling in the grass.

Smiling, you turn away from the scene. “Anyways.”

Sehun is still looking but when he realizes you’re staring at him, he frowns. “Why don’t I want to give her it?”

Now, it’s your turn to be confused. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Before,” Sehun nods at the rose in his hand. “You said, ‘you don’t want to give her that.’”

“Oh,” you laugh. “Right – yeah, I wouldn’t.”

“And – why not?” he asks, gaze surprisingly earnest.

“Well. It’s yellow,” you respond, as though it’s entirely obvious. “Yellow roses signify friendship and I assume you’re not just asking Desi to be a friend?”

Sehun shakes his head quickly no.

“Right,” you nod. “Then don’t give her a yellow rose. Red is for love. White, for purity. Pink, for gratitude. Yellow is friendship.”

“I,” Sehun pauses, somewhat speechless. “Do all girls know this?” he wonders, looking at the flower he holds. “Is there some secret code you all learn, a manual you read?”

Raising both eyebrows, you grin. “I don’t know if all girls know it, but I do. Meaning, I wouldn’t want you to risk it.”

“Huh.” Sehun considers, then slides his rose into the hedge. The yellow stands out, bright against the emerald green. “Thanks, for telling me.”

“Not a problem,” you wave your hand. “Easy mistake.”

Sehun’s mouth twists ot suppress his smile. “What’s your favorite rose color, then? Pink for gratitude seems appropriate, right about now.”

You’re surprised by this and respond, “Blue,” before you can stop yourself.

“Blue?” Sehun seems puzzled. “What does blue signify?”

“The unattainable,” you explain to him softly. “The impossible. Unattainable, impossible love.”

Sehun’s gaze seems to peer inwards. “That’s beautiful,” he allows, looking over at Desi – who currently, is surrounded by many admirers. “Maybe I’ll give her a blue rose.”

Following his gaze, you frown. “You know,” you start, then shake your head. “Ah, never mind.”

“What?” Sehun looks back at you, curious. “What did you want to say?”

“It’s nothing,” you mumble. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sehun laughs, the first real sound that he’s made. His eyes crinkle at the corners, which catches you off guard because he’s rather attractive. You didn’t notice before – probably because he was holding a flower for someone else and you aren’t into lost causes. Now that you look though, you see Sehun is nice-looking. Very much so, with that jawline and those cheekbones. You absently wonder why someone like him chooses to be invisible.

“You need to say it now,” Sehun demands, a smile playing at his lips. “It’s only fair, since I can’t use my powers on you. Let’s level the playing field, shall we?”

Exhaling through your teeth, you glance over at Desi. “Alright, fine. It’s just – well,” you sigh. “I was going to say, don’t give her that flower.”

Sehun stares at you, before nodding. “I know – yellow, bad. Got it.”

“No,” you exhale. “I meant, don’t give Desi any flower. Not just that one.”

Sehun draws back. “I don’t understand. Why not?”

“Because,” you wine, looking at the ground. This is awkward, you shouldn’t have said anything. “Desi is, well – she’s not a very nice person,” you admit and when you glance back up, a muscle ticks in Sehun’s jaw.

“Oh?” he asks, more closed off than before. “How so?”

“She’s not nice to those she sees as beneath her,” you blurt, because apparently you’re uncontrollable.

Sehun raises his eyebrows. “You know this from personal experience?”

That’s not something you want to talk about though, so you shrug. “I’ve heard things.”

“Right,” Sehun’s nods, mouth thinning. “Then let me say that, from personal experience, I’ve never seen Desi be mean. It’s part of why I like her. Not,” he half-laughs, shoving a hand through his hair, “that I need to explain that fact to you.”

“Right,” you huff, a kernel of anger starting to unfold in your stomach. “I guess you’d know, wouldn’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sehun asks, sounding defensive.

“I mean,” you say, stepping forward to poke Sehun – hard – in the chest. He stares down at the motion, visibly surprised. “You spend all your time watching, don’t you? You watch, you idealize, but you never actually do anything yourself. I’m not surprised you don’t see who she really is,” you declare. “It’s not as if you have experience to go by.”

Sehun’s mouth drops. “That’s,” he sputters. “Completely ridiculous.”

Arching a brow, you frown. “Is it? Tell m, Sehun,” you huff. “When was the last time you initiated conversation ? The last time you asked out a girl? The last time you stood up for something – someone – you believed in?”

Sehun stares back at you, furious. “I don’t – I don’t know. Happy?” he demands, cheeks red. “I’m pathetic, I’m a loser. Like I didn’t know that already,” he mutters, before disappearing. The air ripples around you, and Sehun returns to invisibility.

You don’t move, veins still-buzzed with adrenaline.

Instead you stare at the place he once stood, debating about whether or not you should use your powers. After what you just said to him – shaking your head, you turn away. This was so unlike you, to call him out like that. To just start yelling at a stranger, small wonder Sehun got defensive; small wonder, he told you to fuck off.

Except he didn’t, you realize. Stomach sinking, you realize Sehun didn’t yell at you, he didn’t swear, he didn’t do anything but agree and as soon as you realize this, you turn back around. Though you look, though you search, staring into the future – Sehun isn’t there. He’s already left.

Turning slowly around, you walk into your next class. You don’t know what possessed, snapping at him like that and, slamming your books on the table, you sink into your seat. Desi gets under your skin, that’s all. She used to live in your dorm, used to sleep on your floor and it wasn’t just the one time, you saw her picking on other girls. She liked whispering behind backs, throwing sidelong gazes and words like stones. She liked spreading rumors, cutting others down – you hate people like that.

Sehun seems nice. He was nice today, which you suppose is why you didn’t want Desi to take advantage of him. It’s none of your business, though, who he dates or doesn’t date and sighing, you push open your textbook. If Sehun wants to date Desi, he should. It’s just – you hesitate.

The thought of him being hurt pains you.

Too often at Exordia Academy, the people with passive powers get the shaft. You, with precognition; Sehun, with invisibility. Those aren’t ‘fighting’ powers, not like Baekhyun, with Aquakinesis or Jongdae, with strength. Those are powers which save the world; not yours, who only sees a few measly seconds into the future.

It’s not that your power doesn’t come in handy, it does. In a fight, you know where your opponent will be, seconds before they get there. You know how to block them and punch, how to flip and kick and strike. It’s rare that you lose, when you’re fighting a human. That’s the problem, though. Your enemy isn’t always human.

Understanding this, you sink low into your seat and staring out the window, you feel certain Sehun understands. Just from some of the things he said, how he oftentimes feels useless – he likely doesn’t understand how his invisibility can help. Desi’s power is active; super-speed, or something like that.

She wouldn’t understand Sehun, not how you do.

• SEHUN •

Hovering, Sehun stands just outside his classroom. He’s visible, completely on display and everyone can see him but funnily enough, no one does. Taking a slow step forward, Sehun braces himself and walks into the room. Descending the stairs, he pauses at the second row – before taking a deep breath to turn sideways.

Lowering himself into the seat, Sehun’s heart hammers loud in his chest. He forces himself to relax, breathe normally but this is the row that she sits in. Desi always sits in the second row of the classroom, and now Sehun is sitting here as well, which means –

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

Sehun looks up, mouth drying at the proximity. Desi stares back, her dark eyes gentle and soft. She smiles at his stare, which sends Sehun’s heart into overdrive. Shaking his head no, he feels somewhat dazed by her presence.

Sehun stands, pencil falling onto the floor. “Sorry,” he mutters, bending to grab it – and accidentally knocking heads with her, on the way down. Sehun’s gaze snaps up.

Desi stares back, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry,” she apologies and retreats – her form blurs with the motion, too fast for Sehun to see. Super-speed, he recalls. “Sometimes I forget about my powers.”

Standing before her, Sehun holds his pencil firm in his grasp. “It’s okay,” he manages. “I forget sometimes, too.”

Desi just looks at him. “I’m sorry,” she laughs, a tinkling sound. “I don’t think we’ve met – I’m Desi.”

“Sehun,” he nods, stepping aside in case she wants to walk past – and to his surprise, Desi does. “I usually sit in the back,” Sehun explains, lowering himself into the seat beside her.

“Ah,” she nods, continuing to look. “I wondered. You have a face I’d remember seeing.”

Sehun flushes beet-red. “Oh.”

Giggling, Desi pokes his arm. “You’re cute – did you know that?”

Before Sehun can respond, the professor enters – thank god, because whatever was about to come out of Sehun’s mouth was not coherent. Desi faces forward and Sehun follows suit, staring up at the blackboard and listening to nothing for the rest of Philosophy.

When class ends, Desi stands to stretch both arms overhead. “Well,” she smiles, somewhat flirtatiously. “I’ll see you around, Sehun.”

Walking past, the scent of her shampoo lingers and Sehun stares, hardly able to believe his luck. Desi saw him, and she didn’t look away. Then Sehun falters because, oddly enough, his next thought is of you. He keeps thinking about what you told him, about what you said about Desi.

But still. Sehun did something, he went after what he wanted and a small, bubble of pride swells at the thought. Climbing the stairs from the classroom, Sehun remembers your conversation. Unnerving, really, how easily you read him.

It’s true, Sehun does hide behind his powers. It’s something he knows about himself but with no one around to call him out, things typically just continue. Sehun isn’t sure where this trepidation came from, only that once it began it was near-impossible to stop.

It’s hard, looking yourself in the mirror and if you never had to again, would you still do it? Shaking his head, Sehun exhales. He knows his current life isn’t real. He knows that watching others, following others, seeing others – makes him an observer, it doesn’t make him a hero.

Pulling on the straps of his backpack, Sehun lifts his head as he walks. Not anymore, he nods, this is something he’ll change about himself and for some reason, Sehun wants you to know.

It’s while he thinks this, there’s a commotion at the end of the hall. Some legacy, David, barreling towards him; he’s half-running, not paying attention to where he’s going and while Sehun stands watching, one of his shoelaces comes undone. David trips, sprawled across the hall to knock into someone else and send them both tumbling onto the ground. The two disentangle, pushing awkwardly up to their feet and David lets out a groan, swatting clear at his jacket.

“This is Versace,” he huffs, twisting to look at the back. “Look where you’re going, you freakish head case.”

Staring at David, the other guy snorts. “Head case?” he asks, stepping forward. “Oh, right, because I can see your thoughts. Huh. Interesting. Is that what you’d look like, sucking my dick? Weird, but kind to think about, David.”

“Fuck you, Kyungsoo,” David spits, pushing angrily past. “I’d watch your back, if I were you.”

Kyungsoo – a telepath. Sehun snickers at this, watching Kyungsoo bend to pick up his things. He sees all this from behind the water fountain and starts to move, wanting to say something but stops – suddenly unsure. Kyungsoo has already picked up his books, is already leaving and Sehun realizes that once again, he acted too late.

Cursing softly to himself, Sehun looks around. In the few times he’s talked to David, none have been pleasant but Kyungsoo is decent, Sehun knows him from class. He’s another one with passive power, telepathy of some kind and Kyungsoo is dating a block, as Sehun recalls. He saw them together in the dining hall, looking sickeningly happy and from what Sehun has seen, Kyungsoo isn’t the kind to start fights. It makes Sehun want to help, somehow.

It’s your words, once more, coming to mind. When was the last time Sehun stood up for something – someone – he cared about? Anger flaring in his stomach, Sehun narrows his eyes. Why wait for the future to change? Sehun inahles, hiking up his backpack. Why not serve justice tonight?

Stepping outside, Sehun squints at the sun.

Tonight, he’s going to prank David.

• SEHUN •

Leaving his dorm, Sehun glamours himself invisible.

Wrapping his power tightly, he glances covertly aside. Sehun doesn’t know why he does it, more out of habit than anything else because no matter how often he becomes invisible, it’s a hard thing to get used to. It’s hard to feel fine with the sensation of looking down and seeing nothing, to know the ground but see nothing where your legs should be.

Sehun walks fast and as he does, the items in his backpack clunk together, making stealth frighteningly difficult. Pausing behind a bush, Sehun closes his eyes and wishes he’d brought some fabric to tie around the bottles, anything to soften the noise.

“Hi!” you grin, popping into view.

Jerking himself backwards, Sehun lets out a swear. “Fuck,” he exhales, clutching his chest. “Stop doing that.”

“Sorry,” you grin, peering curiously at the backpack, then ski cap. “You going to rob a bank?”

Sehun winces. “Uh, nope. I – no, nope. It’s more that,” he wipes at his forehead. “I thought I heard a raccoon. Outside. There’s a raccoon outside.”

For a moment, you can only stare. “Wow, you’re a horrible liar.”

Sehun winces. “Would a squirrel have been more believable?”

• Y/N •

Wow, he is not good at this. Snorting, you grab for his arm – yelping, when your arm disappears. “What the hell?” you gasp, throwing his sleeve away.

Fighting back a grin, Sehun adjusts the cap on his head. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “I’m using my power to glamour my backpack, I wasn’t expecting you to touch me as well. Accidentally projected.”

“I,” you squint at him, then frown. “You can do that – you can project your power?”

Sehun slowly nods. “Yeah. Rough time in high school, let me tell you that. Remind me to tell you about the one time I had sex and accidentally turned her invisible. Couldn’t figure out how to fix it for two hours and by then,” Sehun seems thoughtful. “She was pretty over it. Things were made much more difficult, by the fact that I couldn’t see.”

The thought of Sehun having sex, well – you flush. The thought is uncomfortable, but not in a bad way and Sehun likes Desi, not you. Remembering this sends cold water down your spine, despite the fact that Baekhyun is nowhere to be seen.

“That’s cool that you project,” you murmur, reaching for distraction.

Sehun nods, thumbs still stuck in his backpack. “It consumes a lot of energy but yeah, I can.”

“Neat.” The air is silent, tense between you. “So,” you nod at Sehun’s backpack. “What’s with the ammo?”

Sehun smiles mysteriously. “Shh,” he whispers, yanking you quick behind a hedge. Form shimmering, you see him become visible. “Bottles,” he explains, pulling a Coca-Cola bottle out half-way. “I placed Mentos in all of them, so when David opens one, it will explode.”

“David?” you repeat, stunned. “You’re pranking David – that flying, legacy ass?”

Sehun fights back a grin. “You know him?”

“Hm,” you muse, tapping your chin. “You know, David once lifted my friend’s skirt in public. Kind of by accident, but still – I’m in.”

Sehun freezes, eyes wide. “You… want to help?”

Nodding, you shrug. “What, you didn’t think you could pull this off on your own, did you?”

“Because I never do anything, right?” Sehun responds, expression innocent. “That’s what you mean?”

“No,” you falter, looking down at your shoes. “Sehun – ah, I’m sorry I said that to you. It wasn’t fair.”

Gaze softening, Sehun continues to look at you. “Maybe not,” he admits, “some of it was true.”

Looking up at him, you sigh. “I only said it, because I know what it’s like.”

Sehun nods. “I only reacted that way, because I know that it’s true. You sure you’re not some kind of mind reader?” he asks, tilting his head.

Forcing aside your laugh, you peer out from the hedge. “Nope, not a mind reader. So – Hardy boy, what’s the plan? Are we planting these bottles in his room, or what?”

“The Hardy boys were crime solvers,” Sehun corrects, moving beside you. “They would never pull a dastardly prank such as this.” The warmth of his body is distracting, enough that you shiver and Sehun notices. “Don’t you have a jacket?” he mumbles, lips close to your ear.

Shaking your head no, you stubbornly refuse to look at him. “Nope,” you admit.

Before you can say more, he drapes soft leather across your shoulders. Gaze darting up, you see Sehun zipping his crewneck higher. “What?” he asks, somewhat defensive. “Can’t have you dying of frostbite on our very first raid.”

Nodding, you don’t trust yourself to speak and when Sehun walks away, the outline of him glimmers. He’s invisible, you realize, vacillating between future and the present. When you look back down, you yelp, realizing so are you and Sehun’s eyes widen, doubling back to clamp one hand over your mouth.

“Quiet,” he whispers. “You’ll give away our position.”

Looking up at him, you watch Sehun slowly withdraw his hand from your mouth. With sudden concentration, you push your vision to the future, sighing in relief when your body flickers to view. “Thank god,” you murmur, surveying your hands.

“It’s odd, isn’t it?” Sehun muses, somewhere to your right.

It must be strange for him; seeing nothing, talking to nothing. Staring at the space you know him to be, you allow yourself to slip into nothing. Letting go of your powers, you feel, rather than see Sehun’s hand in yours.

“Just while we walk,” he allows, tugging you forward. “I’m used to being invisible. You’re not.”

Though you nod, you know he can’t see. It’s odd, knowing you exist but unable to confirm said fact. It’s strange, how often you glance at your body. How often you touch yourself to verify you’re there. You’re here, you know this – but there’s nothing to confirm said fact.

Head spinning, you let Sehun lead you across campus. Invisibility must have been terrifying. growing up. Not being able to control it, not being able to say when you existed and when you didn’t; it’s small wonder Sehun keeps to himself, small wonder he’s scared of letting others close. He’s never quite certain when he might fade away.

As though sensing your thoughts, Sehun’s grip tightens in yours. Slowing to a halt, he stops outside a worn brick building. Stone and ivy stare down as you whisper, “What now?”

The hour is late. It was around 11:30 PM you ran into Sehun and by any sort of logic, David must be asleep. Looking up at Sehun, you shift your vision a few seconds into the future.

“He sleeps in that room,” Sehun announces, pointing to the last window on the second floor. “I know that, because I used to sleep in the room beside him.”

Gaze following his finger, you light your eyebrows. “Are we just going to walk inside?”

Flicking your vision into the future, you see Sehun grin. “One of the many perks to being invisible.”

When he says this, a soft buzz travels your skin and you begin to see the perks to this power. It’s strange, this; both scary and appealing. There’s a freedom which comes from being unseen, from having no judgement or perception. You’re free of all the rules, of social constructs and consequences; without realizing it, you smile.

“I’m beginning to see the appeal of this.”

Sehun laughs, eyes crinkling. “Come on.”

Grabbing his hand, you let your power drop. The two of you wait, Sehun leaning against the frame while searching for the perfect opening and when a gaggle of freshmen pass, he tugs you along with. There’s barely enough rooom for you to enter, the oak door falling softly shut behind you.

Once inside, Sehun pauses. He pulls you behind him, sideways and up a stairwell, making your way to the second floor and down a hallway. It appears you were right – everyone here is asleep, or on their way there. It is a school night, after all.

Sehun pauses outside room 237 to listen. Stopping beside him, you read and re-read the brass plaque with David’s name. He has a single room – which is ideal, for a prank like this.

Sehun turns. “Can you see into the future?” he whispers, urgent. “Is David asleep right now?”

Looking up at the ceiling, you remember he can’t see. “No,” you respond. “I can only see right in front of me. Physical blocks, like a door, stop my power. I can’t see into his room. But,” you hesitate, leaning forward to listen. “It sounds like he’s asleep. Ah, yep – a snore.”

Nodding, Sehun places his hand upon the doorknob. Pushing open the door, he struggles to remain quiet. You two are lucky, the hinges don’t squeak and David isn’t awake as the door falls shut behind you. Sehun shimmers, suddenly visible and you exhale, seeing you are as well.

David lies flat on his back, curled against the sheets while you glance at Sehun. He wavers, debating before he lowers his brow. “The reason I switched dorms,” Sehun admits, placing his backpack soft on the ground, “was because of something which happened freshman year. I was taking a shower when David stole all my clothes, along with my shower caddy.”

Eyes widening, you stare. “He what?”

Sehun nods. “This was before he knew my power was invisibility, of course. I just walked into my room, put on new clothes and told the RA. But still,” Sehun returns, quietly seething. “What a dick.”

You nod, stifling your laugh at the thought. “Let’s Mento him.”

Sehun’s lip quirks. “A verb? Nice.”

Newly invigorated by this story, you rummage around in the bag. “We should leave him a message,” you stage-whisper, pulling out a marker. “Here,” you instruct, handing Sehun the pen.

Taking this, Sehun loooks up in surprise. “Devious, Y/N. Where should I do this,” he debates, unzipping the front compartment of his backpack. “Should I write on his forehead?”

Snorting, you clasp a hand over your mouth. “Perfect.”

Sehun tugs out a bottle of cola, placing it on David’s shelf to blend in with the rest. “What to write,” he mutters, walking forward. “Something about flying? Because that’s his power.”

Pursing your lips, you tug Sehun’s jacket closer, nerves of the evening finally catching up with you. “With his power? Like what?”

Sehun shrugs. “Er – flyboy?”

“Oh my god,” you choke, body shaking as you try to control your laughter. “That’s horrible – truly awful. No, write something stupid. Like, ‘honk if you like butts.’”

Sehun stares back, appalled. “Honk if you like butts?” he repeats, sounding incredulous before he, too, starts to laugh. “Oh, fuck!” he hisses, jumping back when David turns.

David’s eyelids flutter, flopping onto his side and Sehun’s hand grips your arm. Your bodies quickly wink into nonexistence, the bag visible before you – but then David exhales, slowly relaxing into his pillow.

“Shit,” Sehun exhales, after a minute of silence. “Let’s get out of here.”

You nod, in complete agreement. “Right behind you, invisiboy.”

When Sehun groans, you push him out the door. “Let’s go,” he murmurs, grabbing your hand to walk into the hall.

Following close behind, you’re slightly breathless bursting outside. Sehun doesn’t bother with waiting this time, he simply pushes open the doors to the night and piles outside. Turning the corner, he yanks you with amidst the sound of your giggling. Giggles turn soon to laughter, bursting at the joy of being free.

When Sehun collapses against the wall of the building, shimmering to visibility – you stare at him and grin, shaking your head. When you take a step towards him you trip, foot catching on a root to stumble awkwardly forward. “Whoa,” Sehun grunts, catching you tight to his chest. When you land, his hands slide tight around your waist and when you lean back to look at him – Sehun is already staring.

His eyes are too large, wide in the darkness. Sehun’s breathing softens, chest rising an falling with yours. He looks down at you, hands slowly brushing the skin of your back where your jacket has lifted. Sehun stops, hands trembling as he inhales once, just to himself.

You close your eyes, and –

“I – we shouldn’t.”

As though slapped, your entire body tenses. Slowly, you open your eyes. “What?” you whisper.

Panicking, you grasp for the future and see Sehun walk away. You see him apologize, see him blushing and running a hand through his hair.

Returning to present time, you push yourself backwards. “Right,” you breathe, attempting to stay in control. “Right, this shouldn’t happen. You – me,” a laugh escapes, slightly manic. “Why shouldn’t this happen? Remind me.”

Sehun stares back at you, his expression bleak. “I – Desi talked to me, the other day.”

“She talked to you.”

“Yes,” Sehun seems unsure, then pushes on. “She sat down next to me and she… smiled.”

“She smiled?” you repeat, feeling like a broken record but you can’t help it. The embarrassment, frustration choke your thoughts and you wish with all your heart, Sehun weren’t so fucking blind. Even if he doesn’t like you, even if he feels nothing at all, at least he could have common sense about Desi.

Though Sehun’s eyes narrow, he nods. “Yes, she smiled at me. It’s not much,” he admits, pushing himself from the wall. “She didn’t say that she loves me, or anything like that but I tried. I tried and she responded, it wouldn’t be right to go around kissing other –"

“Okay,” you interrupt, cheeks burning. This is ridiculous, that you’re being rejected without having said anything at all. “Fuck, I’m going back to my dorm. Have fun with your girl, good luck with your life. Here’s your jacket,” you mutter, tearing the sleeves free from your form. “Try not to rip the seams, pulling it over your big head.”

“It’s a zip up,” Sehun explains, when you thrust it at him. “That makes no sense.”

“Whatever.”

Tears brimming in your eyes, you turn away before he can see. A sudden breeze sweeps the quad, making you shiver and your long strides suddenly slow, stopping entirely when you round a corner and sag against the wall.

Staring at the stars, you force yourself to face facts. You like Sehun, you like him, have ever since you interrupted him holding that stupid, yellow rose. It explains this uncomfortable ache inside you, this uncontrollable anger – you’re jealous of Desi. Just thinking about Sehun returning to his dorm, thinking about her and not you – you exhale.

It doesn’t matter, though. Pushing yourself away from the wall, you wipe furiously at your eyes and make your way back to your dorm. Sehun doesn’t like you, that’s now perfectly clear. Despite whatever you thought the two of you had, he doesn’t feel the same way. It’s stupid, to feel so strongly about this.

It’s just that Sehun was the first person in a long time, to make you feel like you weren’t alone. Everything you said to him was really about you. You’re scared of being hurt, of stepping in and being rejected. People don’t understand your power and so, they fear it; Sehun didn’t.

Sehun understood having the power to see more than you should. He got the danger, the temptation and he understood the pitfalls. It’s been so long since you laughed the way that you did in David’s dorm. It’s been so long since you wanted to be intimate, to kiss someone like that and let them know that you care.

Closing the door, you sink back against the frame to stare into the dark. Refusing to turn on the lights, you change quietly before climbing into bed. As you curl on your side and stare at the wall, you hope this entire thing blows over quickly. You hope you forget about Sehun, about these feelings entirely.

As you close your eyes, drifting off into sleep, you realize just how unlikely that is.

• SEHUN •

“Sehun? Sehun?’

Sehun’s head snaps up, confused by his surroundings. He realizes then that he’s fading, body transparent at the edges. “S-sorry,” he stammers, becoming solid. “It won’t happen again.”

Professor Lee nods, returning to the board while Sehun slumps in relief. He’s lucky this class is Theory and Principles of Power Usage – it’s not Philosophy, so Desi doesn’t see his embarrassment. You don’t see either and an uncomfortable silence falls in his thoughts, while Sehun pairs your name with hers.

He wanted to kiss you that night.

Heart leaping, jagged, Sehun remembers wanting to kiss you so badly it hurt. The press of your his hands on his back, the weight of your body on his – Sehun’s eyes fly open, realizing he’s invisible.

God, just the thought of you drives him crazy. For several nights now, he’s dreamt of you, only to feel nothing but guilt the moment he wakes. He’s supposed to like Desi, supposed to like just one girl – since when, is Sehun the kind of guy who can’t just be friends? Since when, does he pin girls against walls like some kind of wild animal? He shouldn’t be thinking about you, Sehun reasons, shouldn’t be thinking about anyone but the girl he likes.

Slowly, Sehun lowers his head to his hands. Desi, he likes Desi. Only five more minutes until the end of class and Sehun looks up at the clock, tapping his pencil and trying not to think about the look in your eyes when you left him. He tries not to think about the smell of your perfume, still lingering on his jacket.

As soon as class is over, Sehun grabs for his backpack. Throwing both notebook and pencil inside, he bolts up the steps and into the hall. Sehun is the first one to leave, practically running while entering the quad but he skids to a stop when he sees, freezing awkwardly – before disappearing entirely.

Desi stands a few feet away, two friends on either side and though Sehun doesn’t recognize the others, they’re close enough that he hears. Desi smiles warmly at someone, using her superpowers to dart behind the back of a tall, good-looking guy Sehun has seen around campus. Sehun watches, as she reaches out to steal his pencil case.

“Something wrong, Chanyeol?” Desi grins, appearing suddenly at his side. The case dangles from her fingertips and when Chanyeol moves to take it back, she pulls swiftly away. Superspeed, so fast that Chanyeol can’t follow.

Stomach sinking, Sehun watches because he knows that guy. That’s Chanyeol – Park Chanyeol, of the Park’s; an entire family of legacies, the lot of them. Each one is a superhero – all but Chanyeol, that is, who’s never displayed any sort of power. He attends the Academy as a Variant, someone whose family has superhero abilities but they do not.

It’s not uncommon. There are many Variants at EA, training for jobs in the real world – things like foreign policy, legal protection and other, necessary tasks to assure the well-being of superheroes. Chanyeol is well-liked, easygoing – but right now he looks on in displeasure, while Desi dangles his pencil case annoyingly before him.

“Come on,” Chanyeol exhales. He doesn’t seem stressed, just pissed. “Give it back. What are you, five?”

Desi grins, batting her eyelashes. “Come and take it from me, Variant,” she taunts.

Sehun snaps.

He can’t quite explain it; he feels as though things have gone scarlet and without meaning to, Sehun finds himself barreling forward. Turning visible between them, Sehun reaches up to pluck the case from her hand. “Thanks,” he nods, handing the pencils to Chanyeol. “My friend, Chanyeol, is always losing things.”

Eyes wide, Desi glances over Sehun’s shoulder. “Your friend?”

Chanyeol seems just as confused, but nods. “Best friends, y’know. We, uh – we bowl together.”

Nodding as well, Sehun’s eyes harden at Desi. “I’m wildly inconsistent at bowling.”

Desi’s eyes narrow and after a moment, she shrugs. “Whatever. Girls,” she adds, glancing at her friends. “Let’s go. The quad has become suddenly… crowded. See you around,” she drawls, directing this mainly to Sehun.

“Doubt it,” Sehun mutters, watching her leave. His arms are folded tightly across his chest, heart beating wildly and legs feeling like Jell-O beneath him. Sehun wonders if he’ll collapse, until Chanyeol clears his throat.

“Uh, thanks,” he offers, when Sehun looks over. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Ah, yeah,” Sehun lowers his arms to his sides. “Sorry about that. I know you can handle yourself, I just,” he exhales, as Desi grows smaller in the distance. “I thought that I knew her. I snapped, when I realized I didn’t.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol nods. “Yeah, that girl’s a nasty piece of work.”

“You don’t say,” Sehun sighs – before freezing.

He’s heard that before. You’ve said that to him before. Back when you met, you told him Desi was mean, said she liked games and Sehun didn’t believe you. Groaning, Sehun realizes what a colossal ass he’s been. “I have to go,” he apologizes, looking away from Chanyeol. “I’ve got somewhere to be – I’m sorry.”

Chanyeol just shrugs, seemin as though he’s trying not to laugh. “Sure, no problem. What was your name?”

“Sehun,” Sehun nods, starting to jog past. “I’m Sehun.”

“Sehun,” Chanyeol waves, turning around. “See you around!”

Waving back at him, Sehun takes off down the quad. After a few steps, Sehun starts to gain speed. He wavers in and out of visibility, sprinting across the campus and while maybe he’s reading into things, that seemed like the start of a friendship. Today might not be a bad day, Sehun decidews. He has the start of a friend, knows the truth about Desi – and then there’s you, of course. Sehun’s legs move faster, hoping – praying – he still has you.

Outside your room, Sehun doesn’t know what to do.

He raises his hand now to knock, before lowering it. He snuck into your dorm, behind some girl he didn’t know and now here he stands, fully visible before your door. Today it’s Friday, meaning you could still be in class, or you could be in your room. Lying lazily on your bed, Sehun standing here and he swallows, glancing off down the hall – he nearly misses it, when your door opens.

Faced with your presence, Sehun jerks back. “Hi,” he manages, sticking out one hand and nearly missing the wall when he leans.

You stare back at him, expression blank. “Hi.”

Sehun swallows. “Hi. Uh, can I come in?”

Exhaling gently, you look down the hall. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

Sehun freezes. “Okay. Well,” he continues, closing his eyes. “Can I at least tell you I’m sorry?”

“Oh?”

Your voice is cold, enough that Sehun looks at you. “Yes,” he affirms. “I wanted to apologize for how I acted.”

“Which part?”

“The part,” Sehun says through gritted teeth, “where I didn’t believe your warning about Desi.”

• Y/N •

Hearing him respond this way, your stomach sinks. When you first opened the door, you were hoping. You saw Sehun standing there and thought maybe he’d realized you like him; you thought maybe he’d chosen you, but now you realize how stupid that was. Sehun doesn’t like you, he just doesn’t like Desi and wants to tell you this, as his friend.

“Okay,” you respond, tilting your head. “What do you want?”

“I want to apologize,” Sehun repeats, tiny furrow in his forehead. “You were right about Desi, I saw her bullying someone on the quad. She’s not a nice person.”

“Yes. I already knew this though,” you repeat, managing to sound bored. “I hope everything turned out fine for them. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Sehun steps before you, blocking your path. He’s uncertain where this new boldness came from, it’s surprising to both of you. “Wait,” he breathes, unsure what else he can say.

Scowling, you push aside his arm. “Don’t block me,” you snap. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re mad,” Sehun’s insists, heart pounding as he plows ahead. “I know this – I know I should have listened to you. I’m sorry I pushed you away that night, I’m sorry I didn’t –"

“O-kay,” you stop him. Spine stiff, you tug at your backpack. “Don’t apologize to me, you did nothing wrong.” The words are muttered, as you shove carefully past. This is so embarrassing, humiliating that Sehun felt the need to come and apologize – apologize, for leading you on. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get to the library.”

“On a Friday night?” Sehun responds, sounding dubious.

“Yep.” Pulling your door shut, you make sure that it locks. “Don’t wait up.”

Then you walk past, leaving Sehun behind.

• SEHUN •

Sehun stares when you leave, trying to figure out what went wrong. Eventually he gives up, turning around to slide slow down the door. He sits at the bottom, staring out at the hall. Sits and debates if he should wait for your return. About two hours later, Sehun realizes he doesn’t know if you even alone. Your roommate could come home at any minute, which would be awkward.

Then Sehun shrugs, deciding to wait. Who gives a fuck what other people think; all he cares about is you and what you think. He sits there for so long that at some point he sleeps, slumped against the wall. Eventually, Sehun flickers into invisibility; he doesn’t notice you return, only feels when the door opens behind him. “Shit,” Sehun yelps, tumbling backwards.

• SEHUN •

Letting out a shriek, you kick him on reflex. Hand grabbing hold of the door, your other comes to rest on your heart. Seeing Sehun lying on the ground, you exhale shakily. “Sehun?” you return, glancing into your room – then back at him, on the ground. “Have you… just been sitting here all night?”

Groaning out loud, Sehun clutches his shin. “Yes,” he mumbles, pushing himself upwards. “I was waiting for you to come back because I didn’t like the way that we left things.”

You stare, becuase this is wholly unprecedented. Never before, has a guy wanted to talk to you so badly and when you realize this, your weight shifts to your other foot. “Okay,” you hesitate, pushing open the door. “What did you want to say?”

Sehun unfolds long legs, standing as fast as he can. “Inside?” he asks.

After brief pause, you nod. “Come on,” you sigh, walking past.

When Sehun follows, stopping in your room, it makes you realize how tall he is. Flipping on your overhead light, you illuminate the path to your bed. “So?” you respond, dropping your backpack onto the ground. “What’s so important, you had to sit outside my door all night?”

“I can’t stop thinking of you,” Sehun blurts, as though the words are burning his insides.

Gaze snapping upwards, you stare. “Wh-what?”

Sehun’s eyes burn, walking closer. “I can’t get you out of my head, can’t get this out of my head. Even before I saw Desi being like she was – even before, I…” Sehun swallows. “I dream about you. Think about you. I don’t know why I was so blind, but I see it now. You make me feel…. brave,” he finishes, simply.

“I – I don’t understand,” you return, since it doesn’t make sense.

“You make me feel seen. Not literally,” Sehun hastens, when your mouth twitches, “but figuratively. I never wanted to want that because being seen was being vulnerable, I hid from the world because I could. I never stood up for anything, anyone before – well,” Sehun swallows. “I never wanted to be a hero, before you.”

It’s this, which throws you. His confession leaves you frozen; Sehun doesn’t move either, staring at you wide-eyed. He watches you watch him, your expression softening the longer he looks at you.

At last, you shake your head. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Well. How do you feel?” Sehun asks, interlacing his hands to appear suddenly anxious. Not that he didn’t before.

“I,” you exhale, torn. “Yes. Maybe?”

“Maybe?” Sehun looks away. “This seems like the kind of thing you’d have a yes or no answer to.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, shaking your head. “it does, doesn’t it? Fine! Yes, I like you. Yes, I wanted you to kiss me that night. Maybe I still do, it’s just – I don’t want to be a rebound, Sehun. You said no to me,” you remind him. “You pushed me away.”

Sehun’s expression twists with the memory. “I know I did. I was confused.”

“Who’s to say you won’t become confused again?” you respond and when Sehun is quiet, you exhale. “I just –”

“Y/N,” Sehun interrupts, walking closer.

When he stops, inches from your face, you tilt your head up. “What are you doing?”

Expression serious, Sehun drops his gaze. “You have superpowers,” he murmurs, moving even lower, “What do you think I’m doing?”

The moment before it happens, you see it. A half-second before his lips touch yours, a shiver trails your spine. Grabbing hold of his jacket, you steady yourself while his hands find your back. The touch of his lips is gentle, soft.

The kiss is short and when Sehun withdraws, he’s stolen more than he thinks he has. Swallowing hard, you open your eyes and meet his gaze.

“Will you,” Sehun starts.

Cutting him off, you see where he’s going. “Yes.”

• Y/N •

Sehun is – unexpected.

Literally. He likes to appear suddenly, sneak up from behind to grab your waist. He buries his face in your shoulder, grinning when you gasp in surprise. He loves dates to the campus cafe, turning you both invisible when the check arrives – only to reappear, laughing hysterically. The jokes he makes are awful, his sense of humor even worse.

Despite this – or perhaps, because of it – you find yourself falling in love with him. It’s the only explanation for how your heart races when with him. For how, whenever Sehun is near, your entire world both narrows and widens. How, when he kisses you, it’s hard to let go. You keep finding new ways to press your body to his, pulling him close and refusing to let go.

The first Monday you date is a crappy one. It stems from the practical you have, completely unable to see a fruit fly’s future. You see the table before you, see the air wavering around it while the fly remains stubbornly fixed in one time. You have no idea why, and by the time you leave class you’re in tears.

When you return to your room that day, there’s a single, long-stemmed blue rose on your comforter. The note next to it reads, ‘Believe in the impossible.'

That’s easy to believe, you think, lying on Sehun’s bed with his hands in your hair. Your head rests in his lap, his long fingers winding through your hair, then releasing. He’s reading, some comic you don’t know the name of. It’s what Sehun does when he’s bored – “studying,” he explains, with air quotes and while Sehun reads, you stare up at the ceiling. The room is built of grainy plaster, cracked by age and water; you trace these cracks with your eyes.

“When did you realize you liked me,” you pose to the air, words soft.

Clearing his throat, Sehun continues to read. “When I thought you were the kind of girl who would let a guy read his comic book in peace.”

Swatting at his elbow, you feel his stomach shake with laughter. “Seriously,” you groan, turning over to see. Draping your arms over his legs, you blink up at him.

“Seriously?” Sehun sets his comic book aside, scooting back to pull you into his lap. “I liked you the moment you said your favorite rose was blue.”

“Oh?” you arch a brow. “Sehun, you’re full of shit,” you laugh, poking him in the side.

“It’s true,” Sehun laughs, squirming. He growls, wrapping both arms around your waist. “I can be invisible when I don’t want to talk. You, I wanted to talk to.”

“What about Desi?” you tease.

Sehun makes a face. “What about who? Dusty?” He bends, starting to tickle you. “Desert?”

Laughing, you shove him away before Sehun tackles you back on the bed. “Sehun,” you gasp, cradling his head with your hands. “St-op!”

Stilling, Sehun plops himself down on your chest. “I don’t know when it started,” he admits, gentle. “Only where it’s led, which is here.” Sehun’s expression turns hesitant, looking at you. “Lying with the girl that I love.”

You struggle to comprehend. “The girl that you… what?"

"Love,” Sehun responds patiently, watching your expression. “I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze flicks into the future.

More afternoons like this one, more nights, more mornings. This room filled with the two of you – together. A fight happens in that corner. Sehun makes it up to there. You blush at the possibility. There’s more, so much and slowly, you sink back on his pillow.

Staring at him, you slide both hands to either side of his face. Sehun lifts himself onto his elbows, tilting his head. “I love you,” you return, somewhat breathily. “I love you, Oh Sehun.”

Eyes darkening, Sehun comes closer. His lips brush yours, hardening when your hands find his body. Sehun’s lips are eager, though they slow when he kneels one leg to either side of your chest. He’s careful with his weight, easing your lips apart with his own, fingers pushing hair back from your face.

This isn’t unusual, kissing. What’s unusual is how you feel right now – how you don’t want to stop, ever again. It feels like you’re drowning, buoyed back to the surface with each breath that you take. Sehun’s touch is both air and water, curving around you, winding its way through your being.

Reaching up, you slide both hands beneath his shirt, coaxing his chest closer to yours.

“Y/N,” Sehun groans, forehead falling forward. “I don’t want to leave tonight.”

Every night before now, he’s left. Every night before, there’s been this voice inside, telling you to hold back. There’s nothing there now, though. Not just because he loves you; more because saying it out loud revealed that you feel this way as well. That’s the funny thing about confessing. Half the time, you’re informing someone; half the time, you’re informing yourself. Before, you would have said you were falling in love with Sehun but saying it out loud, makes you realize you do. You love him, you don’t want him to go.

“I’m not leaving,” you smile. “I don’t want you to go.”

Sehun sighs. “Perfect. Then I won’t.”

He flips you. Switching so you lie on your back, his body cradled between the crux of your thighs. He pulls your leg around his waist, pressing himself down and you groan, feeling Sehun harden. He thrusts into you, rolling his hips while you continue to kiss. The exhale you make is shaky, your eyes closing when you arch up into him.

Sehun’s lips drop to your neck, teasing you with small licks and bites. One hand slides beneath your shirt, unhooking your bra to tug the straps lower. You let him, lifting both arms for him to pull your shirt overhead and when your bra disappears, Sehun sucks in his breath.

He groans, staring at your naked chest; Sehun isn’t a loud person, so it’s maddeningly hot when he gets vocal. Lowering himself to you, Sehun kisses until he finds your nipple with his mouth. His tongue darts to flick, switching to sucking when his other thumb brushes your breast. He works until your hips lift up, grinding against him and forcing Sehun higher.

“Babe,” he whispers, when you tug at his shirt. “You have to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” you blink, exhalted by the sight of his smoothly defined torso. “God.”

The corner of Sehun’s mouth lifts. “See something you like?”

He’s gotten cocky in the past month – annoyingly so, and you reach your hand lower. Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you watch his eyes widen in response. His stomach muscles flex, slowly thrusting into your hand. Sehun isn’t wearing underwear, you realize, grasping his outline through the thin material of his sweatpants. Moving lower, you slide over his cock to watch his eyelids flutter shut.

“Shit,” Sehun mutters.

Grinning, you push his pants low and watch his dick spring up, already hard. “Come here,” you exhale, lowering yourself onto your elbows.

Sehun exhales in a hiss, moving closer. He moves his dick to your mouth, watching you tease his tip with your tongue. You let him, until he pushes himself into your mouth and you suck. Accepting his cock eargerly, fucking into your mouth from above.

Running your tongue along the the hard vein of his member, you slide off to stare at the thin, line of saliva you make. Sehun thrusts again, cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag – all while his hands slide into your hair, softening the motion. Eyes watering, you look up at him when he bites down on his lip.

“Fuck,” Sehun hisses, thrusting again. “You look so goddamn pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He watches when you wrap your lips tightly, applying more pressure as you hollow your cheeks. Sehun starts to lose it, when you add the tip of your your tongue. Flicking over his member, lifting a hand to play with his balls.

“Ah,” Sehun moans. His form starts to flicker above you, edges softening with invisibility and when he’s about to come, you pull gently away. “Babe,” he whines, eyes opening. “Why?”

Rather than respond, you undo the top button of your jeans. Sehun freezes in response, staring uncertainly at the sight. Up until now, this is the furthest you’ve gone. Up until now, you’ve only worshiped him with your lips, teeth and tongue.

Now though, you push your jeans and underwear down your legs. Sehun’s pupils dilate. “Are you sure?” he breathes, swallowing.

You slide your hand to his cock, feeling how wet he is with your saliva. “I want this,” you whisper, leaning in to take his ear between your teeth. “Please.”

Sehun scrambles for his end table. “Condom,” he grunts, grasping a packet and ripping it open. He rolls this onto himself, half-collapsing so his chest finds yours. “Wait,” Sehun groans, moving lower. He pushes your hips up, aligning his head – you gasp, when he starts sucking your clit.

Sehun moves hard and fast, licking in circles before he flattens his tongue. He teases until you’re swollen with need, pushing your hips into his face and begging; only then does he withdraw, dropping kisses while he moves his hips to your center. “Now?” Sehun queries, breath warm on your cheek.

You nod, clasping your hands around his back. Sehun inhales, pushing his cock between your legs, guiding until he finds your wetness and then – oh. He enters slowly, making you feel every inch of him. He presses you into the mattress, wrapping your legs tight around his hips. The second thrust, he fills you completely, stretching your walls while your nails dig into his back.

Then he pauses, chest rising and falling with yours. When Sehun looks at you, you understand what he’s feeling. Whether it’s because he says it right now, sometime in the future, you’re unsure but when he moves again, pushing into your body – you gasp.

Lifting your hips upwards, Sehun catches your lip between his teeth. “Fuck,” he mutters, filling you entirely. Your legs are wrapped tight around him, allowing Sehun to set the pace and what starts off as slow, gradually becomes rougher. He slides one hand beneath your knee, pulling you up until he hits your g-spot.

“Sehun,” you whimper, pulling him closer. His hips brush your clit, pelvis rocking into yours and his cock withdraws, only to sink deeper. He sets a pace both too much and not enough; you clutch at him tighter, matching his thrusts with your hips.

Cursing, Sehun’s hips sharpen, unyielding even though his gaze remains soft. When you kiss, his tongue dances with yours, feeling you gradually tighten around him. Body on edge, unable to think, you moan when he fucks you. Sehun’s hands are somehow everywhere; in your hair, down your body and when one slips in between your thighs – you come apart. Breaking beneath him, unable to think while you wrap yourself around him.

Hearing the noise of your exclamation, seeing your face, Sehun lasts only a few more strokes before comes as well. You feel him shudder into the condom, movements slowing as he hovers above you. Sehun pulls out of you gently, removing the condom to drop into the trash. He falls beside you, pulling you into his frame to kiss the top of your forehead.

“I meant what I said,” Sehun responds softly, tugging you closer.

“Which part?” you ask.

“You make me feel strong,” he admits, eyes shining.

Heart almost too full to understand, you brush your lips to his. “That makes two of us.”

[Exordia Academy Master List]

#sehun smut #exo smut #sehun fanfic #exo fanfic #sehun writing #exo writing #sehun au #exo au

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rudyred34 · 6 years

Text

A Rockfall, and A Roc Falls

I wrote a short(ish) fic inspired by the latter half of my DnD group’s adventure on Sunday, as told from the perspective of my human fighter, Eddie. I tried to write it so it’d make sense even if people weren’t up-to-date with the campaign, but who knows if I succeeded!

Eddie had never seen trees this large before. Even in the elven lands of Old Avalon, where some trees predated even the longest-lived elf’s memory and entire communities were built in their sprawling crowns, none matched the sheer vertical magnitude of the silent, red giants between which Eddie and his fellow members of the Ebon Sparrow company now flew. They were so tall, their tops scraped the bellies of the clouds, and their fragrant needles sprinkled the captured moisture on everything below them - including Eddie, who blinked the water from his gray eyes and shook it from his leather-gloved hands to keep his grip on the reins of his avian mount from getting slippery.

“Fascinating,” murmured the gnome Cibook, who sat quietly in the makeshift safety harness Eddie had fashioned. Cibook looked up at his riding companion, and his springy black curls tickled Eddie’s chin. “See there - these trees have the gold veins, too.”

Indeed, each of the arboreal behemoths had a single golden vein running up the length of their grooved trunks, glinting dully in the filtered daylight. “They haven’t attacked us yet, though,” Eddie replied, whispering as if he feared the trees would overhear him. He scanned the branches all around them with a wary eye.

“Yet.”

Ahead and to the left, Graeme gestured from atop his own giant albatross, then pointed to a spot on the fern-covered ground far below; the rest of the party followed his lead and descended in careful spirals. As they got lower, Eddie finally spotted what had caught Graeme’s attention: one of the perytons they had tussled with above the trees a short while ago, wounded but not yet dead, cowering beneath the root structure of a fallen tree. They landed a safe distance away - even when injured, the creature could inflict real damage with its sharp antlers and talons. Still, its remarkable feathers, which could change color to blend in with its surroundings, were too intriguing to pass up. Cibook had informed everyone that the Old Avalonian perytons didn’t have this ability; was this a trait natural to New Avalonian perytons, or did someone - or something - magically endow them with it?

The peryton bleated mournfully, blood trickling from its deerlike snout, and it struggled to move on limbs shattered by its fall through the canopy. Aura’s sticky webbing, the reason for its fall, still clung to its wings. Its feathers shimmered between green, brown, brick red, and a slate gray; its injuries apparently had disrupted its camouflaging ability.

Eddie helped Cibook out of his safety harness while Graeme, his hair glinting like the gold in the trees, drew one of his short swords and gestured for everyone else to stay back. His mouth set in a grim line beneath his thin mustache, he never took his eyes from his quarry as he approached it. Despite himself, Eddie felt a bit sorry for the creature - for all its fearsome appearance and its aggressive, predatory nature, there was an intelligence behind its eyes. It was hurting, and it was afraid. Graeme was simply ending its suffering at this point, Eddie reasoned, but still he looked away from the tableau unfolding before him.

As Eddie glanced around at the plumelike ferns and the massive trees - at anything besides the doomed peryton - he noticed something… odd. He rubbed his eyes, but it was still there: a sort of shimmer in the air, like over a campfire. Squinting, Eddie struggled to comprehend what, exactly, he was seeing. A trick of the light filtered through the trees? Too late, the disparate pieces fell into place: a massive yellow eye, legs the size of small trees, and a gigantic, fearsome beak.

“RUN!” Cibook squealed, having also spotted the gargantuan bird. Eddie had already grabbed the gnome by his arm and hauled him atop their albatross. He plopped Cibook roughly on the saddle in front of him - no time to futz with the safety harness - and spurred the great white bird into flight, one hand on the reins and one hand holding Cibook in place.

As they surged upwards, Cibook began to mutter and make arcane gestures with his hands - then he swore, whatever spell he cast having no effect on the bird that was pursuing them with thunderous steps. “It��s a roc!” he said.

“Looks like a bird to me,” Eddie said, stealing a glance behind him; the rest of the Ebon Sparrows had also taken off, though Graeme was straggling behind the rest. Valiantly, Sir Andrew Wick peeled off from the group in an attempt to draw the bird away, but it remained focused on its easiest prey.

“No, a roc with a C!” Cibook said. “Giant bird? Likes snacking on elephants? But it shouldn’t have those camouflage feathers, either!”

“The nerve of it!” Eddie snarked as he barely avoided a broken-off bough. He could tell that their albatross wanted to climb above the canopy to the open skies, but he forced it to stay low and weave between the giant trunks. Down here, he figured, the roc wouldn’t be able to utilize its full wingspan. Hopefully that would slow it down - perhaps keep it completely grounded. He glanced over his shoulder again, and his hopes were promptly dashed.

The roc was now launching itself from trunk to trunk like a crossbow bolt, its talons gouging deep gashes in the reddish bark, its wings kept close to the body. With this unusual method it was gaining on the group with astonishing speed. Perhaps sensing that it hand the advantage, it let out a screech that shook the canopy and rattled Eddie’s sternum. His ears ringing, he nearly crashed into another tree as he wiped more water from his face. Ahead he saw the trees thin out and stop altogether - but beyond that he saw a dark smudge in the ochre-colored ground: a slot canyon, almost certainly too small for the roc to fit.

“Follow me!” Eddie shouted to his companions, pointing at the clearing ahead.

“Are you crazy?” Sir Andrew, who had circled back to join the rest, shouted back from Eddie’s right, his voice slightly muffled by his steel helmet. “We’ll die! We need to go deeper into the woods, not out of them!”

“Trust me!” Eddie urged his albatross even faster, cutting as closely to obstacles as he dared in order to conserve speed. He’d ridden a flying mount only a few times before, when a neighboring noble family in Old Avalon wanted to show off their newly acquired hippogriffs. That limited experience, however, was invaluable with the extra weight of Cibook to contend with.

They burst from the shadows of the forest into the clearing, and Eddie was momentarily dazzled by the relative brightness. Regaining his senses, he dove down into the slot canyon. Now he was forced to slow down; there was no way to navigate the tight turns and jutting spires at full speed. The hazardous terrain also prevented him from checking in on his companions behind him - so when he heard the sickening wet snap, the subsequent yells, and the loud grinding and rumbling that followed, he was unable to turn and see precisely what had happened.

Clinging tightly to the albatross’s white neck feathers, Cibook hazarded a peek in his stead. “Oh dear!” he said. “It - it’s still coming! It’s forcing itself through!”

Eddie let out a string of incredulous invectives. This damn bird’s single-minded desire to kill them went way beyond the normal behavior of a predator! He was so baffled and infuriated by its persistence that he couldn’t help but turn and see for himself - and suddenly there was a jerk, a twist, and he was freefalling through the air.

Years of martial training kicked in, and Eddie managed to safely tumble as he hit the ground, mitigating most of the force of his fall. Winded and sore, he scrambled to his feet and tried to get his bearings. He was merely ten feet or so from the other end of the slot canyon, where the ground fell away in a sheer cliff to a green valley below. His companions soared by overhead - Aura on her bird, Sir Andrew on his, and Graeme dangling perilously from a rope tied to Sir Andrew’s saddle; the albatross, despite its great strength, struggled to remain aloft with the weight of two men. Behind them, the grinding sound grew ever louder, and Eddie saw the roc using its powerful legs and shoulders to shove its way towards them, toppling sandstone spires before it, heedless of the melon-sized rocks that it knocked free in its passage. In just a matter of seconds it would be atop him. It fixed its enormous, unblinking yellow eyes upon him and screamed once again.

A few feet away from Eddie, Cibook lay on the ground and moaned, bruised and bleeding, knocked senseless by the fall. His albatross limped about not far from that, having apparently caught itself on a spire. Eddie had no idea if it was still capable of flight, even without passengers. He glanced behind him at the cliff - no, it was far too high for him to survive the fall. Frantically, he looked around for someplace - anyplace - that he might be able to hide. But there was nothing but smooth sandstone.

“Here! Over here!” came a musical voice behind him; Aura had circled around and swooped low by the edge of the cliff, and she held out her brown hand for Eddie to grab.

Eddie looked once again at Sir Andrew’s bird struggling to fly. It was doubtful that Aura’s mount could carry three people, even if one of those people were as small as Cibook. Before he was even fully aware of what he’d decided, he acted: scooping up the still-dazed gnome, Eddie handed him to Aura and said, “GO!”

Confusion flashed through Aura’s jewel-like eyes for only a moment; then they hardened in grim understanding. As she wheeled her albatross up to safety, Eddie drew his rapier and dagger, holding them lightly in his hands as he turned to face the roc that loomed over him. His heart thudded in his ears, almost drowning out the cacophony of cracking rock. “All right, then,” he murmured to himself. “Just remember your footwork.” Briefly he wished that he wore heavy plate armor, like Sir Andrew - but that wouldn’t actually stop the beast’s blows, and would only slow him down. Maybe if he could avoid the worst of its attacks for just long enough, he’d find a way to slip behind it and escape…

The roc didn’t even bother coming to a stop before it attacked, lashing out with its cruelly hooked beak. Eddie dodged to the side, but he’d misjudged how long its neck was, and it still managed to catch his arm, tearing a deep gash into his forearm and nearly dislocating his shoulder with the force from the blow. Biting back a scream, Eddie regained his stance just in time to see the roc kick with its massive talons - and then he saw nothing.

With a frantic gasp, Eddie bolted upright. The headache followed shortly after - and the full-body ache shortly after that. He groaned and doubled over, his face buried in his hands. He’d had bad hangovers before, but nothing like this - he felt like he’d been trampled by a stampeding cattle herd. What had he been doing…?

“Are you all right?” came a concerned female voice with a light Elvish accent. Eddie froze, his face still in his hands. Oh shit. He didn’t remember picking anyone up at… where even had he gone last night? His brain was still a confused jumble of nightmarish images. Then a cool, pine-scented breeze rustled his loosely curled hair, and he suddenly remembered: he wasn’t at the family manor, nor at his favorite tavern, nor at the Academy. He wasn’t in Old Avalon at all.

He looked up, squinting in the sunlight. Aura and Cibook knelt on either side of him, having apparently just performed some healing magic to revive him; Sir Andrew, his helmet removed to reveal tumbling walnut-brown locks and a kindly expression, held Eddie’s rapier and dagger as carefully as one might hold a friend’s infant daughter. Graeme stood a little ways away, examining his bowstring and pretending not to care. Eddie glanced down at his arm to see that, while his woolen coat and linen shirt were still torn open at the sleeve and crusted with blood, the skin beneath was now knitted together with a coral-pink scar that ran from wrist to elbow. He rubbed his face to banish the last of his confusion and found that it was covered in reddish dust. “What happened?” he croaked, looking around.

Next to where he sat, the slot canyon had completely collapsed, and there was now an impenetrable wall of shattered and fallen rock. A small bit at the bottom had been dug out - presumably by Sir Andrew, Graeme, Aura, and Cibook - and within the rockfall Eddie could just barely make out the massive head of the roc, its feathers now dull and grayish. Its yellow eye was clouded over in death.

From above, a jovial voice drifted down. “You’re welcome!” Atop the rockfall stood several figures clad in the familiar saffron robes of the Golden Lotus company. They waved down at the bedraggled group, clearly savoring the moment of victory. No doubt they’d use this incident to ask for a “favor” in repayment later.

Graeme glowered and refused to even acknowledge the Golden Lotus, while Sir Andrew smiled thinly at them. Wincing at his still-sore shoulder, Eddie raised a hand and called out, “You know, for right twats, you’re not so bad!” He’d worry about party politics, and why the Golden Lotus were even there, at a later time. Right now he just needed a drink.

#fic #fiction #dnd #dungeons and dragons #original fiction #roc #peryton #campaign #eddie #Edwyn Maxwell Lawrence Deforest Secheverell

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a-k-i-m-i-c-h-i · 5 years

Text

It was like life had stopped, clear in the middle of its own chaos. Deafening noise, then remnants of it, then silence.

"...Jim?"

Blood. That was all he saw for several seconds. There was so much of it, blood staining everything, flooding the subway, blood, so much blood.

"Jim..."

The child gripped his newsboy cap tightly in both hands, raising himself up on his toes enough to better see the train tracks, his face a nearly lifeless display of shock.

His hands were wet. His cap was wetter. All three had been painted in dark, saturated patches to match their freshly decorated surroundings.

After a long pause, Christopher walked forward. His legs were shaking, so much that it was hard to stay standing up, and he had to sit down once he reached the edge of the platform. He set his cap on the ground, and, with his hands free, gripped the platform and slid down.

He barely registered the splattering noise when he hit the ground.

He turned around and immediately whimpered, trying to hold back his tears, even though he wasn't sure anyone was even there anymore to see him cry - it was even worse on the train tracks. His shoes were almost entirely saturated, and the smell of it made him want to stop breathing, but all of his thoughts and senses halted when he-

The red lump had only caught his eye because it was so 3-dimensional. It had been covered in it too, and it had stayed camouflaged all too well before that. He had initially thought that, maybe, his friend had simply disappeared.

Now he nearly wished that he had.

He stepped forward, almost gagged, and realized that he could still see different colors underneath the camouflaging red. His coat, once a bright shade of blue, was dyed to a shocking brownish-grey, and vaguely Christopher thought about color combinations and mixing, the kind of things he learned from the woman who'd worked with Jim's father. If you mix red and blue, look - the warmth and coolness start to make something different and very pretty - purple.

"Isn't it lovely, Christopher?"

This was, if anything, the farthest he could possibly get from lovely.

He reached forward, and, despite his own mind screaming at him not to, ran a hand over one end of the lump.

Skin. Bruised and split beyond repair. His already red hair dripping in front of his eyes, open, unrecognizable, no white or yellow visible anymore. It was too surreal to be happening. It was dizzying. His mouth wasn't open or closed, really, but his lips fell open in an expression similar to that of someone who'd been slapped in the face. A small glint of what must've been his teeth, covered in blood, showed underneath. Despite feeling like he couldn't stand to look anymore, Christopher reached out a hand, and tentatively, as the tears started overflowing from his eyes, rested it on one of his friend's arms.

Something hard and thin was sticking out of his arm underneath his sleeve. Christopher swore he could feel his heartrate double as his mind registered one more of what was already far too many horrors for him to handle.

As the dripping ceased from a lock of Jim's bangs, he moved his other hand toward it, realizing that at some point he'd picked up his cap again, and, shifting the object from his left hand to his right, he took in a shallow breath and brushed the hair hanging over Jim's face aside.

The teardrop shape of his irises looked almost warped, broken, and his eyes had gathered rings and layers of deep red, it looked like, from beneath their lenses. They were stained with almost mesmerizing patterns from the inside.

But that meant he had to be...

He remembered the health lessons from his father's group.

The blood in his eyes was...

After his eyes darted around his friend's face for several agonizing seconds, he saw the likely source.

A part of his head, obscured at first, was completely caved in. Pieces of tissue he couldn't begin to identify spilled out, overlapped, and deformed each other. Christopher reached both hands up and tried to turn his head back over a little as he began to hyperventilate, and was met with a soft grinding sound.

Pieces of bone.

He started bleeding heavier when Christopher set his head back down, which only made him cry more. Something in him, ridiculously, desperately hopeful, had him reaching back out, holding up his friend's head and trying to stem the bleeding, lightly pressing his sleeve against the wound like he'd seen the surgeon do. Before he could stop it, flashes of tearing flesh, clanging metal tools, choking, the shrill tone of flatlining, everything- everything rang in his ears. He couldn't think straight. The smell of blood was making him nauseous, and he could almost feel the surgeon's hands on him, and somehow that memory was an infinite number of times better than what was happening now.

Then, just as quickly, the memories changed altogether - he saw moment after moment he'd spent with Jim, smiling, happy, laughing, anxious and clinging to him for comfort, crying, sleepy and content - living, breathing, his heart still flooding life through him.

Life he might never get to appreciate again.

Christopher's mind all at once froze, sparked into rapidity, and turned to sludge. This time- this was the time that Tony wasn't here with them. Just when he'd felt, in the part of his brain that could still process things, that he'd been hit as hard as was possible, now he felt like his own heart could very well stop from the sheer crushing weight being put on him.

He didn't even feel like he'd care anymore. He didn't know where else to go from here. Nothing felt real and he wished, with every single cell that made him up, that it would turn out not to be.

He barely let go of Jim's head in time to swivel around, holding his mouth shut as he sprinted for the edge of the tracks.

Bile burned his mouth and throat as he threw up, the ever-present smell of the blood slamming into his stomach like a tire iron and sending waves of disgusting nausea crashing into him. His head spun; it was hard to keep his balance already, but his focus being shot only made it worse.

Why...

Why?

No no no no no no no no no no no no no why-

He didn't realize he'd screamed until the noise, and its echoing remnants, tore themselves from his throat.

Before he could focus on anything again, he'd already found himself turning back around, not even having caught his breath yet - he began bracing his weak legs against the uneven ground at the same time as he started nearly running back. He brushed the saliva off of his chin with his sleeve and blinked more tears from his eyes, feeling them fall cold down his cheeks.

His vision, despite its crisp clarity, felt unclear enough that he barely saw the gory details of his friend's demise anymore - maybe for the better, given how precise he was about to have to be. Telling himself, even now, that maybe, maybe he could still be saved, he gingerly cradled Jim's head between his palm and the crook of his elbow, putting another hand underneath his legs and feeling a painful weight settle in his stomach at the feeling of more blood soaking into his hands.

He gritted his teeth as he tried to get him off the ground and keep him like that, crying out when the hand under his legs slipped. Choking out an "I'm sorry" to his friend, a moment later he dropped his legs as slowly as he could and wrapped his arm around the boy's torso, just under his own arms. Then, quickly and reflexively adjusting his feet, he began pulling him toward the edge of the platform.

It took what felt like far too long to even drag him a foot away, given the lack of difference in size between the two, but the absolute last thing the child was going to let himself do was give up. He thought he felt something pull in a way it shouldn't have in his shoulder, accompanied by a disturbing popping sound, and a dull, yet somehow searing wave of pain threatened to break through his resolve - his left hand went limp, dropping the older's lower half momentarily with another nauseating crack. He tried to bring him back up, by his legs this time, feeling himself start to lose both awareness and control of everything else happening to him.

He yelped when his fingers slipped into a groove, a tearing noise reaching his ears all too late - when he frantically pulled away and brought his hand to his thigh instead, Jim's leg sunk downward, revealing a horrifying gash in his calf that split it from heel to knee and went deep enough to easily reveal bone - he'd seemingly only ripped it further open, and the sight of the blood leaking slowly from it now made him stop breathing for a few seconds.

He took hold of him again, with both hands now under his arms, this time moving faster than before. He couldn't stop. If he could still be saved, he wasn't going to let either of them miss that chance.

"Help!!"

His voice was frantic, desperate - he took in as much air as he could in spite of the metallic reek that felt like it was choking him. His heart pummeled against his chest as he doubled his efforts.

They were only a few feet from the platform.

He's not going to...

"Somebody please help!!"

The shrill echo taunted him, but it barely registered as anything anymore. Christopher managed to get one hand on the edge, pulling himself up until he had his knee against the platform. Gripping his friend's arm tightly, he turned, making sure he himself was stable, and pulled.

He'd misjudged.

Christopher screamed as he slipped, pivoting to avoid landing on Jim - he succeeded, resulting in his own arm hitting the ground with one more horrifying crack. The pain didn't stop him from scrambling to stand, but-

A horn blared from the tunnel, slicing through what almost felt like silence in comparison. Christopher's vision started to blur. He could've sworn he heard his friend's voice as he stood up completely.

He couldn't even tell which direction he was running until the blinding light cut into his vision and consumed the entirety of their blood-soaked surroundings.

He brought his hands to his face reflexively.

The last thing he did was faintly wonder if, now, he would get to see Jim again.

The train hit him.

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crossroadsdimension · 7 years

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Maria’s Adventures: Homeworld Bound

Remember when I was posting World Collision? This is that story’s sequel. I’m posting it on FF as well (author name FourthWallBreaker), and I’ll be dropping it onto AO3 soon enough. Just have to get everything else up there first....

Anyway! This one’s Transformer-based, so it’s kinda going out into left field if you guys are just following me for Gravity Falls stuff. Here we go!

Prologue – Return

The shockwave of energy that went off in the Nevada desert didn’t go unnoticed.

But it was where the shockwave originated that made some people worry.

“Did you just say the ‘Energon Badlands’?!” The man in the labcoat looked at his superior in shock. “We can’t send people in there, you know that! That’s neutral ground that even the Cybertronians label as off-limits!”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean we can’t investigate where the explosion came from,” the other replied. He sighed tiredly and ran a hand through his graying hair. “So far, all that’s being done is making sure that there wasn’t anyone in the area when the explosion went off. The plan after that is to wait and see if anything else happens.”

The younger of the two fidgeted worriedly. “And then?”

“And then we’ll have to see if the Cybertronians decide to do anything about it…or tell us if they’re experimenting with possible weapons on our planet’s soil.”

Space Break

The world was colored gunmetal gray, made of metal that seemed to have been something once, but was now slowly falling apart into piles of unidentifiable parts as the oxygen of the air ate away at the alien metal. It was quiet, but there was also something at work in the air here that drove away most who would come to this place.

A single figure stumbled over what used to be someone’s head, tennis shoes scuffing against the faded metal before leaping off and landing on the desert sand below.

A face with a guarded expression looked around slowly, taking in the landscape and the decaying metals.

“This place….”

Tears threatened to leak out of bright, almost glowing blue eyes, but they were blinked away.

“What happened here?”

The figure – a teenage girl in appearance – brushed her brown hair out of her eyes and looked around again, slowly turning. With each step, she saw another metal face, with optics cold and dark, and knew that there was something horribly wrong with what she was seeing.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, pushing down the waterworks that attempted to flood her system and bring her to her knees. “I need to know what happened here. Then I can allow myself to grieve.” She opened her eyes again, a grimness settling on her face as her eyes sparked. “Time to find the Autobots.”

Chapter 1

The last thing Bumblebee had been expecting to hear was a blast of static from his communication system right in the middle of patrolling the Nevada desert.

He pulled off to the side of the road. “Who thinks it’s a good idea to scrapping call me in the middle of a scrapping—“

His dashboard lit up like a Christmas tree when he tuned in properly to the voice that was speaking.

::--anyone on this signal, this is Flare-Up. Can anyone copy?::

Bumblebee stiffened on his tires. “Holy scrap.”

::To anyone—:: The voice stopped, then demanded more harshly, ::Who speaks?::

“I-it’s Silent Stinger,” Bumblebee replied quickly, using an old code name that he hadn’t said in a long time. It felt weird to say it now. “Not so silent anymore, though.” The excitement quickly leaked into his voice. “Flare-Up, where’ve you been? We haven’t heard from you in years – not since Morgen and Katie disappeared! What have you been up to?”

There was a pause.

::It’s not something that should be spoken about over the comms, Silent Stinger:: Flare-Up replied. ::Where are you right now?::

“Outside Jasper,” Bumblebee replied instantly. “Where are you? You sound pretty—“

::I…appear to be in the middle of the remains of a Cybertronian battlefield. On Earth:: There was another pause. ::I’ll come to you. Meet me on the outskirts of the town::

The connection ended abruptly, leaving Bumblebee sitting on the side of the road, dumbfounded.

Then he swerved onto the road in an abrupt U-turn, cutting off an old, white pickup truck that should have fallen to pieces from rust in its undercarriage by now. Bumblebee hardly noticed, however, as the Autobot was racing back the way he had come in order to meet up with someone he hadn’t thought he’d see again in a long time.

“I can’t believe she’s back,” Bumblebee muttered to himself, just barely staying within the speed limit as he shot past a sign that read “Jasper: 10 miles.” “She just up and disappeared without a word to anyone and now—“

A cold feeling settled in him. “She sounded…different. I hope she’s all right.”

He spotted the familiar figure five miles out from Jasper. It was a little hard to miss the figure who was flying low and fast towards the town, especially with how the hoverboard was catching the desert sun. Bumblebee honked loudly and turned off the road and towards the figure in the distance who was flying in a similar direction.

The figure turned sharply and flew towards Bumblebee, and the figure’s form became much more clear: a teenage, human girl, with brown hair and bright blue eyes that almost seem to have a glow hiding behind them. The orange jacket, red shirt, and jeans she was wearing rippled and waved in the wind caused by both the speed of the red and orange hoverboard and the desert landscape.

Bumblebee hit the breaks and swerved before stopping as the smaller figure flew up and stopped next to him.

“You haven’t changed a bit!” Bumblebee said in surprise as the girl landed.

The girl stepped off her hoverboard, not looking back as it folded up and disappeared into thin air behind her. “And you’ve gone back to your old paint job.” She raised an eyebrow at Bumblebee’s yellow-and-black appearance.

“I happen to like this design a little better,” Bumblebee admitted. Black and yellow had only been because of the Decepticons and needing camouflage. “I’m a bit attached to being yellow and black.” He chuckled nervously. “At least I’m not pink like Arcee would have been, right?”

A flicker of a smile appeared across the girl’s face, but then it was gone. “What happened here while I was gone? I saw—“

“Yeah.” Bumblebee sank down on his tires. “We, uh…we don’t really go to the Energon Badlands. Not after…well, I’m not sure what happened. Cybertronians started disappearing and then they just....” He trailed off.

The other’s expression darkened slightly. “There must be more to the story than just that.”

“Well, Ultra Magnus is keeping it under lock and key if he does know anything, and I haven’t seen him since he kicked me off Cybertron with my team.” Bumblebee popped the passenger’s side door open. “I can take you straight to the base we’ve got. It’s not much, and we have to keep things quiet, but it’s enough.”

The girl slipped inside without any word of protest, and Bumblebee closed the door and got back on the road.

“Who is still here?”

“We’ve got some old and new faces. We’ve picked up some pretty new tech too recently that lets us blend in a little better. You’ll see what I mean when we get there.”

His passenger folded her arms across her chest. “Considering that it has been…some time, since I was here, I would expect that some things would have changed. How are relations with the humans?”

“They…could be better.” If Bumblebee could drum his fingers right now, he would have. “They didn’t exactly appreciate it when a bunch of dead Cybertronians dropped into Nevada out of nowhere. And they don’t exactly like the fact that most of us down here were kicked off the planet and are now considered in exile.”

“Why?”

“…most of the Cybertronians back home weren’t part of the war. At least, most of it. And they wanted to put the blame on somebody, so…”

The girl’s eyes narrowed. “Sounds like when we put all the blame on the Germans for World War I. That’s a powder keg waiting to explode if things aren’t handled well.”

“Well, it’s Earth, and I kinda feel more at home here than I do there anyway.” Bumblebee took a turn in the road. “So, where’ve you been? Do you know where Morgen and Katie disappeared to?”

His passenger turned her gaze away from the wheel, looking instead at the passing landscape. “I’ll tell you when we get to the base. This isn’t something that should have to be said more than once.”

Something in her voice made Bumblebee slow a little. “…what happened? You don’t sound like you did.”

“A lot’s happened.” His passenger closed her eyes.

Bumblebee got the impression that she wasn’t planning on saying anything else. Considering how reserved she’d become, he wondered how much she was going to say at all when it came to what she had been up to.

Time Break – Change in POV

Maria came out of a light recharge when Bumblebee came to a stop. She opened her eyes and blinked twice when she saw metal walls and a human-sized corridor leading out of the large room they had arrived in.

Bumblebee popped the passenger door open, and she stepped out.

“Another underground base?” Maria looked around, eyes glowing a little in the dim artificial light from the few bulbs in the ceiling. “Where is it this time?”

Bumblebee’s sports car mode broke apart, parts shifting into other places as a towering mech took the car’s place. The doors settled onto his back as he explained, “We’re in the Rockies. I think that’s what you humans call it? We’re closer to the northern part of the country.”

Maria nodded, frowning slightly. The chamber they were in was completely empty. “Where is the rest of your team?”

“Over there, probably.” Bumblebee pointed towards the human-sized exit from the chamber. “Come on; I’ll reintroduce you.” He started walking towards the door, only to be surrounded by a bright flash.

Maria blinked, then blinked again. “Bumblebee?”

“Hmm?” The yellow-haired young man with the black stripe across the top of his head turned and looked at Maria in confusion. He blinked his glowing blue eyes a couple times before he smacked himself in the forehead. “Oh, yeah – you weren’t around when Joshua figured out Pretender Tech.” He motioned to his appearance – the yellow-and-black striped jacket, the yellow shirt underneath, jeans, and black shoes with yellow stripes. “Joshua figured out how to make us human-sized – and how to make us look human. Not everybody picked it up, but I like the idea of being able to blend in like this.”

“Joshua is capable of something like this?” Maria raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. He’s been busy since I saw him last.”

“He might be around here or back in the Midwest with the Predacons and Maximals; I haven’t been keeping track of what he’s up to.” Bumblebee motioned for Maria to follow him, grinning. “Come on; I want to see the looks on their faces.”

Maria followed after Bumblebee with a guarded expression, gaze fixed on the familiar Autobot symbol on his back.

So much had happened in her absence from this world. Could it really be the same world that she had left? It almost didn’t seem possible, but Bumblebee had recognized her, mentioned her parents and cousin by name.

She quietly moved her gaze away from Bumblebee’s back and towards the wall to her right as they started to reach the end of the tunnel. They were not going to take the news of what had happened to Morgen and Katie very well, especially if Bumblebee didn’t know what had happened to them.

“Hey, guys!”

Bumblebee’s call caused Maria’s gaze to move up again as they stepped out into the open.

“Bumblebee?” spoke up a confused, woman’s voice. “What are you doing back? I thought you said you were going to be gone for another day at least!”

Maria didn’t recognize the voice. She considered it likely that the speaker was a Cybertronian pretending to be human, and someone she hadn’t met yet.

“Something came up.” Bumblebee rubbed the back of his head and laughed. “Well, okay, more like someone.” He stepped aside, and Maria stepped into the room.

The first thing she noticed was that the room looked like a comfortable living space and a command center had collided together and gotten so mixed it was hard to tell where the Cybertronian technology ended and the sofas and gaming centers for the humans began.

Heads turns and stared as Maria turned her attention from the room itself to the people in it.

A man with dark yellow hair rose to his feet and stared in shock with wide, blue eyes. “No way. Is that….” He started moving forward. “Maria? Sis? Is that you?”

It took Maria a moment to recognize him. “Collin. You…you’ve grown.”

“Wait.” A young woman with long blue hair that had a white stripe disappearing into the tight bun on her head turned and stared. “That is Flare-Up? The World Jumper you’ve been talking about for the last five years we’ve been on this planet?”

So, the Cybertronians had been here for five years. But…Collin wasn’t a little kid anymore.

Collin looked back and nodded. “Yes, Strongarm. This is her.” He looked back at Maria and moved forward quickly before grabbing her in a hug. Maria blinked when she found that her face was pressed into her brother’s left shoulder.

He’d gotten taller. She hadn’t had the chance to.

“It’s good to see you again, sis.” Collin pulled back from the hug and smiled. “You haven’t changed a bit – I guess, since you’re a Reploid, you can’t age, huh?”

Maria nodded a little. “Yeah.”

“So, where’ve you been? I haven’t heard anything from you, Matt, or Liz since that summer you guys, Mom, and Dad disappeared!”

Maria looked away. “Speak for yourself; I come back and you’ve shot a food above me, Bumblebee and other Cybertronians are exiled from their home world, and there is a graveyard in the middle of Nevada.” She looked back at her younger brother with a deep frown. “What happened.”

Collin’s smile faded. “A…a lot’s happened, sis. Joshua’s been the most in-touch with Cybertron after Wildfire, Shape-Change, and Sparkseer disappeared with who knows how many other Autobots and Decepticons—“

“I saw the remains,” Maria replied flatly, the piles of gunmetal gray forms flashing through the back of her mind. “Where is Joshua? He no doubt knows that I’m back by now.”

“We haven’t heard from that Reploid in weeks,” Strongarm said with a frown. “Said something about trying to keep up with some top secret experiments and he just vanished off the face of the Earth. In any event, you don’t need him to tell you what happened. Cybertron settled back into peace after everything was rebuilt, our people moved back in, and then Cybertronians started saying something was coming right before they disappeared. When their bodies were found, someone had to take the blame, so they exiled anyone who was close to them. The only reason that I’m here is because I was investigating the disappearances and I bet they thought I was getting too close to a solution.”

A police officer, not a soldier. Cybertron was definitely no longer at war.

“What of Prowl?” Maria asked.

“He’s one of the Cybertronians who disappeared,” Bumblebee replied. “We’ve, uh…we’ve lost a lot of people that you guys knew.” He raised his hands quickly. “Not everyone – don’t worry about that! – but…” He lowered his hands. “How about I show you around so that you can see who we’ve got here?”

Maria tilted her head slightly, then nodded.

“So, we’ve got Strongarm and Collin.” Bumblebee motioned to the two of them. “I’m kind of in command – over here, anyway; the Predacons and Maximals have their own leaders with Jolt and Joshua working as mediators between them. Anyway, here we’ve got Sideswipe –“

“Hey, kiddo.” A young man with spiky red hair raised a hand and waved from the couch.

“—Bulkhead—“

A slightly round, but still muscular man with dark green hair nodded from where he stood leaning against the back wall next to a computer covered in Cybertronian script.

“—Wheeljack—“

“It’s good to see Wildfire’s little legacy is still running around.” The man next to Bulkhead, wearing a mostly-white jacket with a green and red stripe on his left sleeve smirked and gave a mock salute.

“—First Aid—“

A woman with mostly-red hair with two white streaks in it looked up from where she was tinkering with something and nodded. “I’d like to make sure you’re still running well, Maria. It’s probably been some time since you were last looked at.”

“—and Coil,” Bumblebee finished, motioning to a young man who looked eerily identical to Collin. The only difference was that Coil’s eyes glowed and he looked a little skinnier than Collin was.

Maria nodded a little. “Are there any actual humans around besides my brother?”

“We get visitors sometimes. Mostly Jack, since he took Fowler’s place when he retired. Miko and Raf swing by too, but not as often.”

“I have a wife and kids who know about what’s going on as well,” Collin added. “The kids are still pretty small, though, so I only come up here to check on things every few days. You probably won’t see me or Coil very often….” He paused. “Unless you want to come home with me and meet your niece and nephew.”

“Don’t throw me into everything at once,” Maria replied. “I…I need time to adjust to this.” She looked away from the others and closed her eyes before taking in a deep breath. “The last thing I remember of this world is that summer. I didn’t expect to come back and find out that you had grown up in our absence.”

“Our?” Strongarm repeated.

“She’s talking about Mom, Dad, Matt, and Liz,” Collin explained. “They disappeared that summer too; no one’s seen them since then.”

Maria looked up sharply at that. “I was with Matthew; he should have returned here with me, but I haven’t seen him yet. Joshua probably sensed where he returned.”

“What about the others?” Bumblebee asked.

“Morgen and Katie can take care of themselves, wherever they are,” Sideswipe called with a lazy wave of one hand. “They’re tough fleshbags; they’ll be--“

“They died the day I disappeared,” Maria said flatly.

Silence fell over the base instantly. Maria felt and saw the stare of every Cybertronian in the room as her words sank in.

“…what?” Collin asked in soft confusion. He shook his head slowly. “You – you…” He stepped back slightly as a hard look crossed over his face. “Who killed them?”

There was a tenseness in the room at Collin’s words. Coil looked like he was ready to step forward and pull Collin back.

Maria lowered her eyes to the floor before looking up again. “Joshua was there. He saw what happened, even if he didn’t disappear with me. He should have told you – why didn’t he?”

“Because he locked himself in his lab after you disappeared and refused to come out for years!”

Maria frowned. “And now?”

“Now, he’s been keeping up the idea that you’ve all just disappeared and his lab is now in the middle of a secret government base that only looks like our hometown!” Collin started pacing around the room. “It’s annoying how many secrets he likes to keep, especially after he decided on a whim to revive Galvatron to give the Predacons a proper leader and knock Predaking down a peg or two. That could have been dangerous for everyone!”

Maria filed the information away for later as her eyes narrowed. “He should have told you about the Dark Arms and what they did. They disintegrated our parents and then took me to—“ She cut herself off and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. They won’t be coming after us again.”

Collin stopped pacing and looked at Maria strangely. “Dark Arms? I haven’t heard of—“

“It. Doesn’t. Matter.” Maria’s voice came out clipped and annoyed. “What matters now is figuring out what is going on here and setting things straight before we have an even worse powder keg on our hands than we already do. If we don’t know what caused what I saw, then there is a chance that it could happen again, or someone is planning something far worse. I’m going to need to talk to Joshua. Do you have a Ground Bridge I can use to get to his location?”

Collin stared at Maria, then looked at Bumblebee, who looked just as confused and surprised as the human.

Bumblebee shrugged. “Uh…we don’t exactly have a working Ground Bridge here yet. And even if we did, the human government would probably try to come after us for it. The only reason we’re not being hunted down by them is because we agreed to keep to ourselves and stay out of anything they did. Same for the Maximals and Predacons.”

“Well, does anyone want to come with me on a cross-country roadtrip, then?” Maria looked over at Collin with a raised eyebrow.

Collin raised his hands. “I have a wife and kids not far from here; I’m not about to up and leave without giving them a few days’ warning at least.”

“I was planning on going.”

Maria looked over at First Aid as she left what she was tinkering.

“Joshua and Jolt both need to be looked over; at the rate they’ve been avoiding me, it’s starting to become dangerous if they keep it up. I don’t care if they’re both mechanics, they need a doctor’s touch.” First Aid looked pointedly at Maria. “I can look you over then, as well. Whatever it is you’ve done, it’s brought you back changed.”

“I won’t argue against that,” Maria replied. “An alternate version of Ratchet did assist in giving me some upgrades, but I went through a number of battles immediately afterwards.”

First Aid blinked a couple times. “You were…you were on an alternate version of our world?”

“Among others.” Maria looked over at Collin. “Matthew was on their world before the events that took place. I met up with him there.”

“You mean the DC one?” Collin frowned. “What happened over there? Joshua came back from that and said everything was fine?”

“Some….” Maria trailed off, then shook her head. “Some other things happened. Either Joshua wasn’t aware of what was coming or he became aware of it too late to warn the rest of us. In any event, it would be wise for me to let him know that I am back and that I want his help in finding out what exactly has happened here.” She motioned back to the door she and Bumblebee had stepped through moments ago. “Shall we go?”

#cross' fanfiction #Maria's Adventures #Homeworld Bound #transformers: prime #(sort-of)#OC #Maria #Collin #Coil #Bumblebee #Strongarm #Sideswipe #Bulkhead #Wheeljack #First Aid #just setting the stage for what's to come

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paintmeahero · 7 years

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The Push and Pull of What Could Be

Fandomwritingchallenge ||Prompt: paintball

@paintmerahero

Fandom: The Goonies: Mike Walsh/ Clark "Mouth" Devereaux

Rating: Mature

Tags: Mentions of past: homophobia, possible parental abuse or “pray the gay way”.

Word Count: 2702 words

Summary: Data brings Mike on a summertime paintball excursion to spend some time with him before they go off to college, but he has a surprise for his old friend that might just change his life.

Ao3 Link: Check it out here

“I don’t understand why we’re doing this.” Mike shifts the pack on his back irritably, and keeps walking….no, trudging… after Data.

Data just grins and wiggles his eyebrows. He shoulders the pack effortlessly, picking his way through the forest with annoying ease. As the years rolled by, he had become lithe and athletic, handsome with an easy smile. Mike always tried not to ogle him too overtly, but he knew that Data had caught him at it a few times. Mike on the other hand…well, he’d stayed short, and his rail thin body had filled out. He had started working out in secret soon after Brand had left for college, and then just dropped the secrecy. He had muscles, but compared to Data, he was a troll. No one was ogling him, overtly or not. No one had been interested in him ever since…well, not for a while.

Data calls out, “I hear them up ahead, wait here!” and slips through some trees.

Mike sits on a log to wait and sweat. Late August was hot this year, turning every day into a festival of stickiness. Gloomily, and not for the first time, he wonders what he is going to do without Data when he leaves for MIT in about a month. Mike is going to miss him. They were the only goonies left. Chunk and his family had moved away almost immediately after finding the treasure and the girls had gone to college the same time as Brand. Briefly, he thought about Clark, and then clamped down on it with a clenched jaw.

Going to MIT had always been Data’s dream, and Mike wanted that for him. Maybe he should figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his own life. Maybe it was time to stop brooding and leave.

Data’s voice in his ear makes him jump. “Stop daydreaming, Mikey, we have places to be.”

Mike scowls, but follows his friend through some more woods and into a clearing. He groans aloud at the sight waiting for him. “Data, paintball, really?”

Data laughs. “It’s the last few weeks, Mikey. You’re gonna have a good time. Plus, I have a surprise.”

Data pulls Mike through the groups of teenagers getting ready, strapping armbands on, getting paintball guns and organizing into teams. Data hands Mike a matching orange armband and pushes him into a group of others putting on orange bands. Irritably, Mike grumbles something about bossy friends, looking around at his new teammates. Through the general milling around, Mike sees the table with the paintball guns, so he heads over, reaching for one at the same time as someone else is grabbing it.

He turns with an apology ready on his lips, but instead his heart lurches and he swears, “Oh, holy fuck.”

The boy who takes the gun smirks. He’s even shorter than Mike and slim, his hair cut so that a mop of curls falls into his eyes. His left ear is shiny with several earrings. He’s dressed for this event with an insouciant flare; an ostentatious red bandana and camouflage.

Mike licks his lips, blood thundering in his ears, and a pair of warm brown eyes tracks it. His voice is hoarse, and he can’t control its pitch, “Clark.”

Mouth smiles at him lazily. “You don’t get to call me that. Mouth will be fine. Interesting to see you here, Mikey.”

Mike scowls, and shakes his head to clear it. “Mouth, what the hell?”

Mouth shrugs a little. “Well, I’m at the end of my community service, and we were ordered to do this as a ‘team building exercise’. I think they are hoping I’ll join the army and become a real man. I turned 18 a month ago, so I guess it’s the last time they can treat me like a kid.”

Mike opens his mouth angrily to make him knock it off; to make him explain himself, but there’s a woman holding a megaphone explaining the rules in a voice so loud that it drowns everything else out. Defend the flag, capture other flags, winning team has the most flags. They’re ordered to spread out into their starting zones before the air horn starts the game. Mike looks around for Data vainly during the pandemonium, but cannot find him anywhere. Swept up in the enthusiastic crowd, he heads into the woods.

About a half an hour into the game, Mike is lost and irritable. He finds a shady spot hidden by a huge rock, and settles on the ground with his back against it. He takes his shirt off, pouring cool water over the back of his neck and down his chest, gasping at the temperature change.

Mouth drops down heavily next to him with a sotto voce wolf whistle. “Nice distraction tactic, Mikey. You do that, and I’ll sneak up on them.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Can it with the Mikey crap, I’m not 12 anymore.”

“You let Data call you Mikey.”

Mike eyes him, “Data isn’t an obnoxious shit, Clark.”

Mouth just grins at him. The officials made him take his bandana off so he wouldn’t be confused with the red team, and his hair has fallen into his face. Sweat has made the ends curl and stick to his neck and face. He rests his head back against the rock with his eyes closed, quietly breathing. Mike watches him for a minute, and then frowns.

“Clark….”

Eyes closed, he irritably interrupts, “Mouth.”

Mike sighs, “Mouth. You don’t have water with you, do you?”

Mouth huffs out a laugh, and rocks his head from side to side against the rock. Mike pokes him with the water bottle until he ta cracks an eye open and then takes it. As he is gulping water, Mike rummages through his pack and brings out two apples, passing one over in exchange for the bottle.

“Mouth,” Mike starts, and then falters into silence, falling back on taking a huge bite of his apple. If his mouth is full, he doesn’t have to talk.

Mouth snorts. “I’ve been fine, Mikey, thanks for asking. Not that you bothered to check.”

Mike swallows hard. “I…I didn’t….”

Mouth turns his untouched apple around in his hand. “I know. And I don’t suppose I should be surprised. I mean, your parents were cool, but there’s only so much leeway they were going to give. If I’d been a thief or a bad influence, sure, fine. But, a thief, a bad influence and a faggot… well.”

Mike winces. “That’s…that’s not. They didn’t think…”

Mouth chuckles bitterly. “Yes they did, Mike. See, you were a perfect nerdy little angel. Weird friends, sure, but you had a lot of them, and you were clearly a leader. Then when you turned into a Brand clone, they were expecting cheerleaders. Finding you wrapped around me with my tongue in your mouth was never on the agenda. I’m the asshole in the group, I’m always the one next to you when the principal calls. It’s my fault.”

Mike reaches out and touches Mouth on the shoulder. “What your parents did to you…I tried to find you, but they wouldn’t open the door, they wouldn’t talk to me.”

Mouth looks as if he is about to respond, but then pauses, going very still. Tossing the apple back to Mike, he rolls to his feet and creeps around the rock. A second later, he pops back, holding up two fingers and pointing on the other side of the rock. Mike nods, and gets to his own feet, picking up his gun. He and Mike go around either side of the rock, surprising two of the green team with bright splatters of paint. They wander off towards the base camp, grumbling.

Mouth motions for Mike to follow him, heading down the trail in the direction the other two had come from, looking intently down at the ground. Mike can’t help but smile to himself as he watches Mouth do this; he was always the one surprisingly into the whole nature thing. He and his uncle would go on long hunting trips together before everything went to shit. He would always come back with stories about tracking deer and whatever through the woods, his eyes bright and happy.

The sky starts to turn dark alarmingly fast, followed by an intense and sudden rainstorm. Cheering and delighted whoops of laughter close by have Mouth pulling Mike into some pine trees on the side of a hill. They sneak, crawling on their stomachs under the branches until Mike can see the green team’s base with its flag and a few folks left behind to defend it, the trees around it covered in paint splatters. They’ve found a few large rocks and some scrub brush to crouch behind, but right now they’re dancing in the rain, enjoying the break from the unending heat.

Mike turns to whisper to Mouth, but starts sliding on the slick grass under him, and then can’t gain purchase to stop, sliding down till the grass becomes mud. The mud is even worse, and he just helplessly tumbles and slips all the way down the hill into a small thicket of bushes. By the time Mouth gets to him, he is giggling uncontrollably, lying on his back in a great pile of mud.

Mouth sits next to him, looking down with a smirk. “Nice moves there, Mikey.”

Mike just bursts out into more laughter, grabbing a clod of mud and lobbing it into Mouth’s face. He blinks in surprise for a second, and then with a huge grin, does the same. The two of them fling mud, then start pushing, then grab each other and wrestle for a minute, gasping with laughter.

As the laughter finally dies down, Mike finds himself underneath Mouth, looking up into his eyes. He can see Mouth already trying to pull away, so he wraps his legs around him and flips them so he is on top.

He murmurs, “They can’t keep us apart any more, Clark.”

Mouth lets out a half sob, stubbornly looking away and trying to squirm out from under him. Mike pins him down easily and captures his lips in a soft kiss. He whispers, “Kiss me, Clark.”

Mouth pushes against him ineffectually, but Mike keeps him pinned, leaning down to kiss up his neck and then his jaw. Mouth squirms, gasping out Mike’s name softly. Smiling, Mike starts nipping at Mouth’s earlobe, slowly breathing a hot breath against the flesh.

He can feel how hard Mouth is, tensed beneath him, and he gently rocks his hips down against it, rewarded with a long groan. He whispers, “I want to kiss you, Clark. I’ve missed you, I need you. Please kiss me.”

Mouth breaks, grabbing Mike’s hair and manhandling him into a rough and desperate kiss. Wrapping one leg around Mike’s waist, he grinds up against him urgently. Mike hikes Mouth’s other leg up around him roughly and thrusts against him, growling possessively into the kiss.

Mike isn’t sure how long they’ve been doing this. It is timeless, wonderful, like being allowed to breathe again. He never wants to stop. Someone nearby though, is trying to get his attention, calling his name in an increasingly insistent and annoying way. Ignoring the sounds of protest from beneath him, he raises his head and looks around. Data is leaning against a tree, his wet hair plastered against his head, with a huge uncomfortable grin on his face.

Data says, “You know, there’s like, five guys just over that hill that would love to shoot you right now. Hi, Mouth.”

Mouth blinks, and cranes his head around, his face turning scarlet instantly. “Oh, hey, Data. Um.” He squirms, pushing urgently at Mike, who seems to be unable to filter anything quickly right now. He sits up slowly, watching Data with a careful eye. Knowing your friend likes dick is one thing, but seeing him aggressively go for it is something else. Data, though, seems preoccupied with other things, darting quick looks up the hill.

That’s right, there is still a game going on around them. “Clark. How good would it look on your paperwork if you took a flag?”

Data raises an eyebrow mouthing, ‘Clark?’ and Mouth shoots him a death glare.

“It would look great,” Mouth answers, “I mean, it would show that I was into community spirit or whatever. They’re looking for anything they can to show that I’m not going to turn into a career criminal.”

Mike nods grimly. “Good. Then let’s take this one.” He stands up and attempts to adjust his clothing, but the muddy sodden stuff simply clings. Data grins and looks between them.

“Have Mikey tell you about the pearls in the desert some time, Mouth,” Data says with a glint in his eye. Mike gives him a desperate glare as he stalks around looking for their scattered belongings.

Mouth watches Mike silently, his brown eyes unreadable.

Together they come up with a plan, and it makes Mike giddy. Data sneaks around the back of the base and plants a bunch of small noisemakers that he’s made, and is of course, carrying with him. When they detonate, Mike confuses things by firing paintball rounds from another direction, while Mouth and Data come up from the other side to shoot them. It works like a dream, the green team firing wildly into two directions at once and swearing loudly when Mouth goes overboard with the paintball gun.

All three of them walk in companionable but exhausted silence to the starting point to turn in the flag. There doesn’t seem to be an ounce of energy left in Mike. Even when the rain stops and the sun starts to shine again with the same horrid ferocity as before, he can’t seem to find anything in him that can complain. Not until the sun starts drying the mud on his face and in his hair, that is. They sit on the ground in a small circle of three, identical tired grins on their faces.

“So, what is this about pearls in a desert?” Mouth asks, finally eating that apple in huge, noisy bites.

Mike laughs, “It’s stupid, just one of those stories dad told me.”

Mouth smirks, and punches him in the shoulder lightly, “Well, your dad tells you the truth. Spill it.”

“Well, in a desert in California, there is a wrecked ship, loaded with pearls. Don’t ask me how it got there…there was some story about a tidal wave in 1612. Some people have claimed to see it, and at least one person has returned with pearls, but no one can find it again. Data here thinks I should….” Mike trails off with a shy shrug.

Mouth’s grin gets wider. “He thinks you should find it.”

Data adds, “I think he should find it soon. He made no plans for after high school, Mouth. After you…” he pauses uncomfortably.

“After I disappeared and then was arrested,” Mouth says bitterly.

“Y…yes. After that, he just stopped giving a shit. I mean, except for researching treasure. So, I keep telling him to go. Find another one. Have another adventure.” Data shrugs at Mike apologetically.

Mike rubs his hands over his face, suddenly deeply tired and overwhelmed, jamming the heels of his hands into his eyes so hard that light explodes behind his eyelids. A light touch on his shoulder makes him drop his hands and look around. Mouth leans over and kisses him lightly on the lips, ignoring the muttering and gasping from everyone else who has filtered into the area.

“I think,” Mouth says, “That you and I should go to California and research this thing. Together.”

Mike looks into his eyes steadily. “Do you mean that? After everything that happened?”

Mouth nods, leaning against him. “I do. I mean, I don’t know if we’ll make it longer than a week, but I have to get out of this town, and you need to follow a dream. That’s who you are. Let’s follow one and see what happens.”

Mike smiles and wraps an arm around Mouth, looking forward to the future for the first time in years.

#fandomwritingchallenge #March fandomwritingchallenge #the goonies fanfiction #the goonies #fanfiction #idk

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kpopfanfictrash · 7 years

Text

Blue Roses (M)

Author: @kpopfanfictrash , as part of Exordia Academy - a series of ongoing one shots with @underthejoon

Creative Content Contributors: moodboard by @baebae-goodnight (a GODDESS)

Pairing: reader / Sehun

Rating: 18 + (explicit sex)

Word Count: 9,833

Superpower: Invisibility

• SEHUN •

Sehun stands invisible.

“Why would someone name their child after a tragedy?” she winced, shaking her head before looking pleadingly at their Philosophy class. “No, Desi is fine.”

“You don’t want to give her that.”

Looking up, Sehun is startled to find you looking straight at him.

• Y/N •

He turns to look at you. Glancing down, he sees that yes, he’s invisible and yet here you are, talking to him. “I,” the guy pauses, shaking his head. “Are you talking to me?”

Nodding, you hop down from the wall you’re sitting on. “Yes, I’m looking at you. Do you see anyone else here?”

The guy pauses, obviously confused. “Well, no,” he manages. “But then – I don’t see myself, either. I’m currently invisible.”

“Invisibility,” Sehun blinks, before shaking his head. “Who are you?”

“Y/N,” you grin, sticking out your hand. “Power of precognition, nice to meet you.”

He continues to stare, now at your hand. “But,” the guy hesitates, unsure. “I’ve met people with precognition before and none of them could see me in the future, not when I was invisible.”

He quirks his head, now interested. “For everyone? Everywhere? Wow,” he laughs. “That’s quite a power. Oh,” he flushes, shaking his head. “And I’m sorry, I’m Sehun.”

Sehun blinks. “So, what – you saw a future version of me?”

Smiling, you turn away from the scene. “Anyways.”

Sehun is still looking but when he realizes you’re staring at him, he frowns. “Why don’t I want to give her it?”

Now, it’s your turn to be confused. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Before,” Sehun nods at the rose in his hand. “You said, ‘you don’t want to give her that.’”

“Oh,” you laugh. “Right – yeah, I wouldn’t.”

“And – why not?” he asks, gaze surprisingly earnest.

“Well. It’s yellow,” you respond, as though it’s entirely obvious. “Yellow roses signify friendship and I assume you’re not just asking Desi to be a friend?”

Sehun shakes his head quickly no.

“Right,” you nod. “Then don’t give her a yellow rose. Red is for love. White, for purity. Pink, for gratitude. Yellow is friendship.”

“I,” Sehun pauses, somewhat speechless. “Do all girls know this?” he wonders, looking at the flower he holds. “Is there some secret code you all learn, a manual you read?”

Raising both eyebrows, you grin. “I don’t know if all girls know it, but I do. Meaning, I wouldn’t want you to risk it.”

“Huh.” Sehun considers, then slides his rose into the hedge. The yellow stands out, bright against the emerald green. “Thanks, for telling me.”

“Not a problem,” you wave your hand. “Easy mistake.”

Sehun’s mouth twists ot suppress his smile. “What’s your favorite rose color, then? Pink for gratitude seems appropriate, right about now.”

You’re surprised by this and respond, “Blue,” before you can stop yourself.

“Blue?” Sehun seems puzzled. “What does blue signify?”

“The unattainable,” you explain to him softly. “The impossible. Unattainable, impossible love.”

Sehun’s gaze seems to peer inwards. “That’s beautiful,” he allows, looking over at Desi – who currently, is surrounded by many admirers. “Maybe I’ll give her a blue rose.”

Following his gaze, you frown. “You know,” you start, then shake your head. “Ah, never mind.”

“What?” Sehun looks back at you, curious. “What did you want to say?”

“It’s nothing,” you mumble. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You need to say it now,” Sehun demands, a smile playing at his lips. “It’s only fair, since I can’t use my powers on you. Let’s level the playing field, shall we?”

Exhaling through your teeth, you glance over at Desi. “Alright, fine. It’s just – well,” you sigh. “I was going to say, don’t give her that flower.”

Sehun stares at you, before nodding. “I know – yellow, bad. Got it.”

“No,” you exhale. “I meant, don’t give Desi any flower. Not just that one.”

Sehun draws back. “I don’t understand. Why not?”

“Oh?” he asks, more closed off than before. “How so?”

“She’s not nice to those she sees as beneath her,” you blurt, because apparently you’re uncontrollable.

Sehun raises his eyebrows. “You know this from personal experience?”

That’s not something you want to talk about though, so you shrug. “I’ve heard things.”

“Right,” you huff, a kernel of anger starting to unfold in your stomach. “I guess you’d know, wouldn’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sehun asks, sounding defensive.

Sehun’s mouth drops. “That’s,” he sputters. “Completely ridiculous.”

You don’t move, veins still-buzzed with adrenaline.

The thought of him being hurt pains you.

She wouldn’t understand Sehun, not how you do.

• SEHUN •

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

Sehun stands, pencil falling onto the floor. “Sorry,” he mutters, bending to grab it – and accidentally knocking heads with her, on the way down. Sehun’s gaze snaps up.

Standing before her, Sehun holds his pencil firm in his grasp. “It’s okay,” he manages. “I forget sometimes, too.”

Desi just looks at him. “I’m sorry,” she laughs, a tinkling sound. “I don’t think we’ve met – I’m Desi.”

“Sehun,” he nods, stepping aside in case she wants to walk past – and to his surprise, Desi does. “I usually sit in the back,” Sehun explains, lowering himself into the seat beside her.

“Ah,” she nods, continuing to look. “I wondered. You have a face I’d remember seeing.”

Sehun flushes beet-red. “Oh.”

Giggling, Desi pokes his arm. “You’re cute – did you know that?”

When class ends, Desi stands to stretch both arms overhead. “Well,” she smiles, somewhat flirtatiously. “I’ll see you around, Sehun.”

Pulling on the straps of his backpack, Sehun lifts his head as he walks. Not anymore, he nods, this is something he’ll change about himself and for some reason, Sehun wants you to know.

“This is Versace,” he huffs, twisting to look at the back. “Look where you’re going, you freakish head case.”

“Fuck you, Kyungsoo,” David spits, pushing angrily past. “I’d watch your back, if I were you.”

Stepping outside, Sehun squints at the sun.

Tonight, he’s going to prank David.

• SEHUN •

Leaving his dorm, Sehun glamours himself invisible.

“Hi!” you grin, popping into view.

Jerking himself backwards, Sehun lets out a swear. “Fuck,” he exhales, clutching his chest. “Stop doing that.”

“Sorry,” you grin, peering curiously at the backpack, then ski cap. “You going to rob a bank?”

Sehun winces. “Uh, nope. I – no, nope. It’s more that,” he wipes at his forehead. “I thought I heard a raccoon. Outside. There’s a raccoon outside.”

For a moment, you can only stare. “Wow, you’re a horrible liar.”

Sehun winces. “Would a squirrel have been more believable?”

• Y/N •

Wow, he is not good at this. Snorting, you grab for his arm – yelping, when your arm disappears. “What the hell?” you gasp, throwing his sleeve away.

“I,” you squint at him, then frown. “You can do that – you can project your power?”

“That’s cool that you project,” you murmur, reaching for distraction.

Sehun nods, thumbs still stuck in his backpack. “It consumes a lot of energy but yeah, I can.”

“Neat.” The air is silent, tense between you. “So,” you nod at Sehun’s backpack. “What’s with the ammo?”

“David?” you repeat, stunned. “You’re pranking David – that flying, legacy ass?”

Sehun fights back a grin. “You know him?”

“Hm,” you muse, tapping your chin. “You know, David once lifted my friend’s skirt in public. Kind of by accident, but still – I’m in.”

Sehun freezes, eyes wide. “You... want to help?”