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melzula · 4 years

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Come What May

third and final installment of the Fire Lilies series

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, some mean Zuko, forbidden lovers au

notes: thank you all for the love & support you’ve given this series. although it’s over, if you still have any questions or are curious about what happens to Zuko and the Princess along the way feel free to ask me and I’ll be happy to elaborate! enjoy!

summary: you put your trust in Zuko and agree to run away with him. But have you made the right choice?

part one | part two

“I’ve been challenged to an Agni Kai.”

“I’m engaged.”

The two of you stare at each other stunned, eyes wide and stomachs immediately filling with dread.

“What?” Zuko breathes quietly. His voice is barley above a whisper and he refuses to make eye contact with you, but you don’t miss the way his body begins to tremble with emotion.

“With my father gone and my mother growing older I need someone to provide and take care of me,” you explain weakly with guilt present upon your features. “I’ve been given away to the son of my father’s most trusted advisor.”

Zuko’s eyes widen in horror as you carefully tug the collar of your coat away from your neck to reveal your betrothal necklace. The jewelry rests daintily against your skin, the carved stone almost shimmering underneath the light that reflects across the ice that surrounds you, and it takes every fiber of his being to restrain himself from ripping the thing right off of you. You were meant to be his fiancé, his wife, and yet here you were claiming to be the promised bride of a boy who wasn’t Zuko. A part of him felt sick, and though he knew it was beyond your control he couldn’t help but feel betrayed.

“Tell me you’re not going to marry him,” Zuko demands, his voice calm and unwavering despite his aggravated state.

“Zuko...”

“Tell me you’re not,” he urges you now as he grasps at your forearms and pulls you closer to him. If you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was furious by the way he was holding you, but in reality he was just desperate and afraid. “Y/n, tell me.”

“It’s not that easy,” you try to reason, “it wasn’t my choice.”

“Exactly, it wasn’t your choice! So don’t marry him!” Zuko insists firmly.

“If I don’t marry him I risk bringing dishonor to my family and to my people. I’m the Princess, Zu. Even if I tried to say no it wouldn’t matter. Becoming a wife to a member of our tribe is part of my duty as Princess. I’m so sorry.”

Your heart aches for Zuko as he slowly removes himself from you, and both of you choose to ignore the handprints that have been charred into the fabric of your coat from where he had once grabbed you. He was good at controlling his temper around you, but his temperature was a completely different story; it was a wonder that he hadn’t somehow burnt you yet.

“What about your Agni Kai?” You press gently, taking one of his hands in both of yours before bringing it close to your chest and over your heart. A small sigh accompanied by a breath of fire escapes Zuko at the action and warms your cool cheeks.

”One of the war generals at the council threatened your life,” Zuko explains dully. You squeeze his hand tightly in response. “I spoke out of turn in your defense, and now I’ll have to duel him. I know I can take him, but what I can’t take is someone who isn’t me being able to call themselves your husband.”

“I’ll always be yours, Zuko.” He says nothing as you wind your arms around his torso and nuzzle your face against his chest, but he can’t help himself from returning your embrace and holding you impossibly tight against him.

“Then run away with me,” he says. A small gasp escapes you as you pull away to look up at him with wide eyes.

“Run away?”

“Yes, run away. As soon as the Agni Kai is over and I win, I’ll come get you and we can leave. We’ll go wherever you’d like, it doesn’t matter as long as we’re together. Please, Princess.”

“I... I’ve heard Ba Sing Se is the place people go to get a fresh start,” you reply with an uneasy smile. Zuko rewards you with a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll leave in three days. Meet me by the docks at midnight and bring only what you need,” he instructs before gently cupping your face in his hands. “We’re going to be so happy together, y/n.”

You smile as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss, but you can’t help the uneasiness that stirs in the pit of your stomach. The thought of running away with Zuko is exhilarating, yet something in the back of your mind is begging you not to go, warning you that things will not be as you planned them to be. But your body succumbs to the sensation of Zuko’s lips against your own, and before you can stop it you find yourself sinking further and further into his warmth.

~~~

It’s not easy having to turn your back on your people and leave the only life you’ve ever known behind, but the journey that lies ahead of you is enough to convince you that leaving the Southern Water Tribe behind is for the best. You’d never be happy in a marriage with someone you didn’t love, and you’d forever resent your parents and your people from keeping you tied down to one place forever. You would be happy with Zuko, there’d be many new sights to see and so many new experiences to have. It was for the best.

You arrive at the docks by midnight per Zuko’s instructions, a backpack full of what little belongings you could bring along with you resting upon your shoulders. This is most likely the last time you’ll ever see the South Pole again and a sense of bitter sweetness washes over you as you take one final look at your home. When the sun rises your mother will find the note you’ve left behind and Princess y/n of the Southern Water Tribe will be no more.

A ship slowly emerges from the distance, the Fire Nation emblem displayed proudly for all to see, and nervous excitement tingles through your body as you prepare to leave your home once and for all.

The Zuko that descends from the ramp of the ship to greet you is not the same Zuko you had seen just a few days ago. The boy before you now has completely transformed both physically and emotionally. The long hair you loved to comb your hands through so much is gone with only a ponytail of hair remaining at the back of his head. You try not to stare at the patch tied securely around his head and over his left eye in fear of upsetting your boyfriend, but he doesn’t even bother to explain it.

When he approaches you it is with purpose, a seriousness and sense of formality that had never been there before- not when it came to you. There’s a coldness to him that frightens you, but you do your best not to show it. Something is wrong, you know this, your superstitions had warned you so, but until you find out what it is you will do your best to act as if everything is fine. You offer him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, and Zuko doesn’t meet your gaze.

You watch with bated breath as he reaches out and tugs your collar down to reveal the betrothal necklace around your neck.

“Why are you still wearing this?”

“I was in a rush and forgot to take it off,” you explain quickly. Zuko stares at you for only a moment before quickly emitting a heat from his palm so great it melts the carved stone of your necklace right off. The choker that held the stone falls limply from your neck and onto the snow below you. You’re bewildered by such a harsh action from the boy who had always treated you with the utmost care and respect. A part of you wanted to turn around and run back home to your mother, but you knew there had to be a reason for Zuko’s sudden change, and so you stay.

“Let’s go,” Zuko says gruffly, taking your bag from your shoulders in one hand and holding your hand in the other as he guides you up the ramp and onto the ship.

He stands beside you with an arm around your waist as the ship pulls away from the docks and out into the open sea. Your home grows smaller and smaller until you’re no longer able to see it, and then it is just you and Zuko together in silence.

“You’re going to be happy with me,” he says quietly, but the statement does nothing to ease your nerves. “It’s late, you need your rest. I’ll escort you to your quarters.”

You say nothing as he guides you to the ship’s deck below, only glancing once at the moon before you before the night sky is replaced with a steel roof over your head.

~~~

Zuko doesn’t tell you much about the Agni Kai; you’ve learned it’s best not to bring it up. But from the vague answers he’s given you along with the tiny details his Uncle has let slip out, you find out that Zuko had not won the challenge and was now an outsider of sorts to the Fire Nation. But that shouldn’t matter now considering you both had wanted to run away, right?

You have separate quarters on the ship, but you always find yourself winding up in Zuko’s bed. Homesickness hits you more often than you had presumed, and Zuko is the only warmth you find in your new life abroad. You hope that will change once you settle down in Ba Sing Se. The thought always bring a sense of comfort to you- the idea of starting over, settling in a new home, eventually getting married, and having children are images that keep you sane on the moving metal death trap.

When you wake you find that the spot beside you in bed is empty and cold, proof that Zuko has been gone for a long while now. With a sigh you force yourself up and ready yourself for the day ahead. If your calculations aren’t off and if you read the map correctly, you should be arriving in the east end of Earth Kingdom some time today.

However, when you ascend onto the top deck you find that you are nowhere near Earth Kingdom territory at all. The air is still frigid from the cold, and you’re regretting not bringing a coat up with you to wear.

It is Iroh who notices your trembling form first, immediately sitting you down at his tea table and calling for one of the crew members nearby to fetch you a blanket.

“Zuko, the poor Princess is freezing,” Iroh states whilst pouring you a nice, warm cup of tea. “Please forgive my nephew for his lack of hospitality.“

You only give the General a weak smile in response as you quietly sip your tea. A warm blanket wraps itself around your shoulders accompanied by a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Why is it so cold?” You frown, glancing up at Zuko who stands before you. “I thought we’d be near the Earth Kingdom by now.”

Iroh guilty looks away from the two of you and quietly excuses himself in order to give you privacy. Zuko is silent for a long while.

“We’re not going to the Earth Kingdom,” he replies bluntly.

“But what about Ba Sing Se?”

“I have to tie up a few loose ends before we can settle down together. But don’t be sad, Princess. I’m sure you’ll like where we’re going instead.”

It’s then that you truly notice your surroundings, the familiar gray skies and calm ocean waters, the frigid temperatures. You’re going back home.

“The South Pole? But that can’t be!” You exclaim. “I just ran away and now you’re taking me back?”

“We’re not going there for you,” Zuko responds harshly. “They have something that I want.”

“I don’t understand...” you frown, rising from your seat at the table to meet Zuko’s fiery gaze.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” he mutters, brushing past you in order to stand along the railing of the ship.

“Zuko, if we go back there’s a chance my people will try to take me away from you. They’ll blame you for my disappearance, returning would be nothing but trouble. What could the South Pole possibly have to make you go back?!”

You love Zuko with all of your heart, you really do. But if you had known the severity of the situation you’d find yourself in once you decided to run away with him, you would have listened to the voice at the back of your head that begged you not to go. But now, as the banished prince turns back to meet your eyes, you realize that it’s much too late.

“Your people are hiding the Avatar.”

| tags: @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @multi-fandomstan @eridanuswave @royahllty @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @kittenthekat1234567890 @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @coldlilheart |

#zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #atla x reader #atla #avatar the last airbender #secret tunnel #fire lilies #forbidden lovers au

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quarantinevibes2020 · 3 years

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LoveDrug

Summary: That trope where someone's eyes dilate when they see someone they love. That's it. That's the whole fic. OR Virgil and his accomplice play matchmakers for some literal star-crossed lovers.

Word count: 2198

Pairing: Romantic Roman/ Logan (college AU)

Warnings: drinking (not underage), other drugs mentioned but no one uses any

Yes this happened to me. Hush and let me project

AO3 Link

Roman was going to murder his roommate. Or at least shave an eyebrow off in his sleep.

He had been trying to navigate a small apartment decorated in polaroids and newspaper paintings, crowded with people he didn’t know. He had done his best flitting around from group to group: parties weren’t exactly a foreign entity to him and usually he would relish in the chance to make new friends. However, he had been looking for a particularly stormy visage among the sea of people.

He locked eyes with his target: Virgil Kross, aforementioned roommate who had dragged him here in the beginning of the night and told him to stay close before uncharacteristically darting off.

The get together was for everyone in Virgil’s physics class and when Roman found him, Virgil was propped up against a wall and sitting on some steps, swirling around a cider and talking to someone in square glasses and an almost comically over-formal button down.

Virgil caught his eye and lifted an eyebrow. Roman shook his head in a restrained don’t you dare Virgil I swear sort of way. Virgil either didn’t see it or outright ignored him. He waved Roman over, made some sort of excuse that Roman didn’t hear, and left the two alone.

Roman was going to fill Virgil’s pillowcase with popcorn kernels. He was going to tape his toothbrush to the ceiling. He was going to hide his socks in the freezer. He was going to-

“Roman?”

Roman sucked in a breath, litany of threats against his horrible, no good roommate suddenly coming to a halt.

In front of him sat Logan Nova, Virgil’s study partner from when he had taken astronomy a semester ago and also, less important, the person Roman had been pining for ever since Virgil had dragged them on their fieldtrip in September. The class was supposed to map out the stars they saw, identify them, and measure their distances or something. Roman didn’t really keep track of the details. He wasn’t even too interested in looking at the stars, coming from a city where they were mostly blocked out by the light pollution.

And sure, they were pretty in the open sky, but not prettier than the wide eyes that drank them in, than the elated expression that same face had when Roman asked him a question about the class since Virgil was off probably shotgunning a beer with their professor and Roman was bored out of his mind. Logan had shown Roman his star maps and pulled out a worn out textbook with tenderly placed bookmarks of his favorite constellations. Roman had been fascinated by the stories behind them and the two spent the night going through the book, cover to cover.

By the end, Roman was sure he never thought the stars were beautiful until he saw them reflected in Logan’s eyes.

Virgil continued to bring Logan over, even after their astronomy classes had ended, sometimes completely unannounced, before flouncing off to run some errands with his art major friends (how Virgil managed to double major never ceased to amaze Roman, especially given that both those majors were so hard). And for the past six months, Roman had gone from crushing to something close to besotted. It wasn’t something very easy to hide so the next time Roman caught that spider he was going to put ice down his back and-

“Um, there aren’t anymore seats. I can move if you’d like?”

Logan’s voice brought Roman back to the present. He took an extra swig of his drink, hoping that Logan wouldn’t notice how he almost downed it for the courage, and shook his head.

“Scooch on over, Specs, we can share,” Roman said, the burn behind his sternum fueling his words.

Logan laughed, a little bubbly and Roman guessed that his cup was full of something with a similar texture, and moved for Roman to balance on half the seat.

Roman took another sip, looking out over the room of people.

“So this is what you physics people do on a Friday night, huh?” Roman asked, a little teasingly, “not bad.”

Logan bumped him and Roman barely kept his heart from fluttering out of his chest like a frantic dove.

“Did you see how drunk half the class got at the Meteor Fields?”

Roman snorted, “Fair. We almost had to carry Virgil back to the room.”

“You almost had to carry him. I did carry him.”

Roman made a noise of offense, “Excuse me! I am a knight in shining armor! Not a carriage!”

Logan laughed and Roman finally turned to look at him, startling when his face was much closer than he had anticipated.

“I don’t appreciate that I am the carriage in this metaphor,” Logan said with a faux-pout. Roman wanted to quip something back, but he had something of an elephant-sized lump in his throat. Logan tilted his head before leaning in. Roman just barely managed not to squeak.

“Goodness,” Logan said, “your eyes are so dilated!”

Roman blinked, taking another sip of his drink and trying to will a blush down.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Logan exclaimed back, leaning in even more and woo-boy was he close.

Roman looked to his drink slightly, not able to hold Logan’s wide eyes for a second without turning cherry-red.

“It’s pretty bright in here, they shouldn’t be,” Roman said, trying to ‘science it out’ like Logan loved to do. Logan, mercifully to Roman’s thundering pulse, sat back a bit: considering.

“Well. Quite a few things can cause one’s pupils to dilate. Lack of light. Opiate withdrawal. Looking at someone you’re attracted to. Love. Parasympathetic activat-”

“Coke,” Roman nearly choked out. Logan paused in the list he was rattling off and blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Coke. I did coke. Just- whole line of cocaine all in one gulp.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t drink cocaine, Roman. Furthermore-”

Roman didn’t hear the rest of Logan’s sentence. He pushed off the wire seating, sputtering out something about refilling his drink, and made a beeline for the back exit.

When he got to the balcony, he nearly slammed his head into the corner of the railing.

Well Roman thought miserably better for him to think you’re on drugs than hopelessly in love with him. Really dodged a bullet there.

The thought didn’t help. Roman let out a groan and let himself slump. He poked his legs between the columns of the balcony and swung his feet. Above him, the sky was hazy. The moon was barely visible as it peeked through a curtain of clouds. Not a star in the sky. A part of Roman thought that was rather fitting given how royally he had just messed up.

A door opened and closed behind him. For a moment, Roman thought it was Virgil from how quiet the footsteps were and was about to get up and tell him he was heading out when he turned around.

Logan Nova, adorable wavy black hair and now slightly-crumpled but still endearing button down, was staring back at him. Clutching his drink a little as he moved to sit next to Roman. He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then-

“Whoever your dealer is, I don’t think they gave you cocaine,” he finally said.

Roman swiveled around to meet his eyes. Logan’s eyebrows furrowed even further.

“Your eyes are dilated again. And while that is a symptom of its ingestion, your behavior otherwise does not indicate its use.”

Something bubbled out of Roman’s throat. For a horrifying moment, Roman thought it was his drink trying to take revenge, but no- it was laughter. Croaky at first, but rapidly devolving into full-bellied howling.

“Perhaps I misjudged?” Logan said after Roman’s guffaws continued, Roman shook his head, trying to stop the shake in his shoulders as Logan, obviously more than a little concerned at Roman’s ‘illicit drug use’, got more and more worried by the minute.

“I didn’t do any drugs, Logan,” Roman finally got out between heaving breaths. Logan stuck out his bottom lip a little.

“But you said..?”

Roman waved at him, he must have misjudged the distance because his hand caught Logan’s shoulder but Roman didn’t feel like moving it.

“I know what I said,” Roman said, laughter trickling, “I know, it was stupid, I promise though. I haven’t had anything besides this crappy beer and,” Roman took in a breath, now or never he guessed, “maybe a little love,” he finished quietly, not sure whether he should thank the alcohol or curse it for letting him say it.

Logan’s eyebrows shot up, “Lovedrug? Like ecstacy?!”

“What?!” Roman shot back, looking incredulous before rubbing his face, “NO, not- not lovedrug you-UGH- how are you smart but so dense??”

Logan only blinked in return. Roman supposed he deserved that.

“Lo,” Roman said, taking his legs out of the balcony and setting them in a lazy kneel, “what were the things you listed off for making someone’s eyes dilate?”

Logan’s nose scrunched, “Em. Parasympathetic activation?”

“Keep going,” Roman said, exasperated but woefully fond.

“Ecstasy would certainly be on the list.”

“Logan.”

Logan huffed, “Ah. I believe I also said looking at someone you’re attract-”

Logan stopped. His expression almost sent Roman into hysterics again but he didn’t give in because if he did he might have ended up crying.

“Oh,” Logan said in a small voice.

“Yeah, oh” Roman echoed softly, “sorry I lied, I kind of just. Panicked. A little.”

“So you led me to believe you had taken a bad strain of cocaine?” Logan replied, voice strained but still shocked out of emotion.

Roman squirmed. “Yee. My bad, you don’t- you know. Have to say anything though. I know you don’t- I just wanted you to know since you seemed a little freaked that I was having a bad drug reaction.”

“You know I don’t what?” Logan asked suddenly as he spun to face Roman. Roman looked down and scratched his nose.

“You don’t-ugh. Don’t make me say it dude, you know what I mean.”

“Roman, look at me.”

Boy, Logan was not making it easy. But he supposed if he was going to get rejected, he should look at him straight in the eyes. At least he’d retain some of his dignity then. Roman lifted his chin.

“What color are my eyes?”

Roman blinked, a little caught off-guard from the question. Was it that obvious that Roman had been waxing poetic about Logan’s eyes in his own mind from the moment he had met him? How they caught the light and sucked it in, like two galaxies swirling in his irises. How his lashes curled naturally, almost touching his brow bone when they were alight with wonder. How it didn’t even matter now that he couldn’t see a star in the sky because they were all caught in Logan’s eyes. They were a force of gravity pulling him in and everything else with them.

“…black?” Roman said, tamping down on his raging thoughts. Logan cocked his head.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked.

Roman almost would have been offended if Logan hadn’t chosen that moment to tug Roman’s chin towards him.

“Look closer,” Logan said.

Breathe, dumbass Roman’s brain said. He listened to both as he squinted.

There were still the swirling galaxies in the middle. The soft gaze did nothing to curb that, but there- Roman tilted his head as he saw something else. Like the sun brimming over the earth, a honey brown at the very edges. Logan must have seen Roman’s expression as he realized it.

“My eyes are amber, Roman.”

There was something in Logan’s voice, it was the same one he used when he was helping Roman with his GenEd calc class. Like he was trying to lead him somewhere. If Logan’s eyes were amber, then his pupils must have been massive because they took up the majority of the…oh.

“But-I-I don’t,” Roman stuttered.

“What were the reasons for someone’s eyes to dilate?” Logan pushed.

“Didn’t take you for a coke guy,” Roman said, trying for cool but bordering on watery. Logan huffed, his face was so close that Roman could feel the breath.

Then, Logan’s lips were on his own and suddenly Roman could care less about eyes.

“Logan,” Roman breathed, smiling when he pulled him forward into another kiss. He turned to pepper more along his jaw bone. Logan giggled. Roman tried to stamp the sound into his brain.

“You’re amazing, you know. Amazing, smart, beautiful, so beautiful,” Roman whispered, half out of his mind as he tugged on the hair at the nape of Logan’s neck.

“Are you sure that’s not the alcohol talking?” Logan managed, though it came out a bit garbled.

“Nothing can addle my brain more than your beauty already has,” Roman replied instantly, pulling Logan in again.

Behind the window of the balcony, a blue sweater clad boy adjusted his round glasses and gleefully took a five dollar bill from a pouting spider.

“I told you all they needed was a little push,” whispered the glasses boy.

“Fucking finally,” replied the spider, not missing his five dollars all that much.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #logince #ts roman #ts logan #fluff #all the fluff #only fluff #I did my boy Logan dirty in the last fic so #I wrote this

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

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The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 8

(Y/n)'s POV

I know someone at camp resents Percy and me because one night, I come into the cabin alone and find a mortal newspaper dropped inside the doorway, a copy of the New York Daily News, opened to the Metro page. The article takes me almost an hour to read, because the angrier I get, the more the words float around on the page.

GIRL, BOY, AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT

By Eileen Smythe

Sally Jackson, son Percy, and daughter (Y/n) are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. The family's badly burned '78 Camaro was discovered last Saturday on a north Long Island road with the roof ripped off and the front axle broken. The car had flipped and skidded for several hundred feet before exploding.

Mother, daughter, and son had gone for a weekend vacation to Montauk, but left hastily, under mysterious circumstances. Small traces of blood were found in the car and near the scene of the wreck, but there were no other signs of the missing Jacksons. Residents in the rural area reported seeing nothing unusual around the time of the accident.

Ms. Jackson's husband, Gabe Ugliano, claims that his stepson, Percy Jackson, is a troubled child who has been kicked out of numerous boarding schools and has expressed violent tendencies in the past.

Police would not say whether son Percy is a suspect in his sister's and his mother's disappearance, but they have not ruled out foul play. Below are recent pictures of Sally Jackson, (Y/n), Percy. Police urge anyone with information to call the following toll-free Crimestoppers hotline.

The phone number is circled in black marker.

I wad up the paper and throw it away, flopping down on my bunk on the far edge of the cabin under the window facing the sea.

I remain silent as Percy walks into the cabin, flopping down onto his bunk as well.

That night, I have the worst dream yet.

I was running along the beach in a storm. This time, there was a city behind me. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings spread farther apart, palm trees and low hills in the distance.

About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They looked like TV wrestlers, muscular, with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue, the other in green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked, and head-butted, and every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose.

I had to stop them. I didn't know why. But the harder I ran, the more the wind blew me back until I was running in place, my heels digging uselessly in the sand.

Over the roar of the storm, I could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one, Give it back! Give it back! Like a kindergartner fighting over a toy.

The waves got bigger, crashing into the beach, spraying me with salt.

I yelled, Stop it! Stop fighting!

The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil it turned my blood to ice.

Come down, little hero, the voice crooned. Come down!

The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down to the center of the earth. My feet slipped, and darkness swallowed me.

I wake up, sure I'm falling.

I am still in bed in Cabin Three. My body tells me it's morning, but it's dark outside, and thunder rolls over the hills.

A storm is brewing.

I hadn't dreamed that . . .

I hear a clopping sound at the door, a hoof knocking on the threshold.

"Come in?" Percy asks, sounding uncertain.

Grover trots inside, looking worried. "Mr. D wants to see the two of you."

"Why?" I ask, peeking through the curtain separating mine and Percy's side of the cabin.

'He wants to kill . . . I mean, I'd better let him tell you."

Nervously, Percy and I get dressed and follow, sure we were in huge trouble.

For days, Percy and I'd been half expecting a summons to the Big House. Now that we were declared children of Poseidon, one of the Big Three gods who weren't supposed to have kids, I figure it's just a crime for us to be alive. The other gods had probably been debating on the best way to punish us for existing, and now Mr. D is ready to deliver their verdict.

Over Long Island Sound, the sky looks like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain is coming in our direction. I ask Grover if we'd need an umbrella.

"No," Grover says. "It never rains here unless we want it to."

Percy points at the storm, 'What the heck is that, then?"

Grover glances uneasily at the sky. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does."

I realize that he's right. In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley.

But this storm . . .

This one's huge.

At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin are playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysius's twins - Castor and Pollux - are walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everyone is going about their normal business, but they look tense; they keep their eyes on the storm.

Grover, Percy, and I walk up the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sits at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on my first day. Chiron sits across the table in his fake wheelchair. They are playing against invisible opponents - two sets of cards hovering in the air.

"Well, well," Mr. D says without looking up. "Our little celebrities."

I wait.

"Come closer," Mr. D says. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortals, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father."

A net of lightning flashes across the clouds; thunder shakes the windows of the house.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus grumbles.

Chiron faints interest in his pinochle cards and Grover cowers by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth.

"If I had my way," Dionysus says, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron puts in.

"Nonsense," Dionysus says. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."

"Mr. D - " Chiron warns.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus relents. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rises, and the invisible players' cards drop onto the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you two must do."

Dionysus picks up a playing card, twists it, and it becomes a plastic rectangle. A security pass. He snaps his fingers. The air seems to fold and bend around him. He becomes a hologram, a wind, then he is gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.

Chiron smiles at me and Percy, but he looks tired and strained. "Sit, Percy,(Y/n), please. And Grover."

We do.

Chiron lays his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use.

"Tell me, (Y/n)," he says. "What did you make of the hellhound?"

Just hearing the name makes me shudder.

Chiron probably wants me to say, Heck, it was nothing. I eat hellhounds for breakfast. But I don't feel like lying.

"It scared me," I admit. "If you hadn't shot it, I'd be dead."

"You two will meet worse. Far worse, before you're done."

"Done?" Percy asks. "With what?"

"You're quest, of course," Chiron says. "Will you accept it?"

I glance at Grover, who is crossing his fingers.

"Sir," I say, "you haven't told us what it is yet."

Chiron grimaces. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."

Thunder rumbles across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I can see, the sky and the sea were boiling together.

"Poseidon and Zeus," I guess. "They're fighting over something valuable . . . something that was stolen, aren't they?"

Chiron and Grover exchange looks.

Chiron shoots forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"

"The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And...I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it," Grover says, his eyes bright.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron orders.

"But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes sparkle with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine," Chiron strokes his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, (Y/n), you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

Percy laughs, looking nervous, "A what?"

"Do not take this lightly," Chiron warns. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

"Oh."

"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron says, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."

"And it's missing?" I guess.

"Stolen," Chiron corrects.

"By whom?" I ask though I guessed what he was going to say.

"By you two," Chiron says and Percy's jaw drops.

"At least"—Chiron holds up a hand—"that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon argued. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best,' 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."

"But I didn't - We didn't -" Percy goes to say.

"Patience and listen, child," Chiron says. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you two as his children. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief.

"But we've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!"

Chiron and Grover glance nervously at the sky. The clouds don't seem to be parting around us, as Grover had promised. They are rolling straight over the valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid.

"Er, Percy . . . ?" Grover says. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky."

"Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggests. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam...." He looked at Percy.

"The Golden Net?" I guess again. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods trapped Zeus in it and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler?"

"Correct," Chiron says. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you two have come along—the proverbial last straw."

"But we're just kids!" Percy protests.

"Percy," Grover cuts in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, and that he's father, not one, but two mortal heroes who might be used as a weapon against you . . . Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?"

"But I - we didn't do anything, Poseidon - our dad - he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?" Percy asks, and I remain silent in thought.

Chiron sighs. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a fullfledged war would look like, Percy? (Y/n)?"

"Bad?" Percy guesses.

"I'd guess that it would be like nature at war with itself," I say and Chiron nods.

"Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight," Chiron adds to (Y/n)'s statement.

"Bad," Percy repeats.

"And you, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath."

And then, it starts to rain. Volleyball players stop their game and start in stunned silence at the sky.

We had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of us.

"So we have to find that bolt," I say. "And return it to Zeus."

"What better peace offering," Chiron says, "than to have the son and daughter of Poseidon return Zeus's property.

"If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?" Percy asks.

"I believe I know." Chiron's expression is grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago...well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."

"Why can't you tell us where the bolt is beforehand?" Percy asks.

"Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge."

I swallow thickly. "Good reason."

"You agree then?" Chiron asks.

I exchange a glance with Percy, then Grover, who nods encouragingly.

Easy for him, I think. We're the ones Zeus wants to kill.

"All right," Percy says. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron says. "Go upstairs, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

. . .

"Well?" Chiron asks us.

We slump into our chairs at the pinochle table. "She said we would retrieve what was stolen.

Grover sits forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron presses. "This is important."

My ears are still tingling from the reptilian voice. "She said we would go west and face a god who had turned. We would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

"I knew it," Grover says.

Chiron doesn't look satisfied. "Anything else?"

"No," Percy says. "That's about it."

He studies Percy's face, then meets my green gaze. "Very well. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

I get the feeling he knows we're holding something back, and he's trying to make us feel better.

"Okay," Percy says, looking anxious to change topics. "So where do we go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Percy," Chiron says."if Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain."

"Someone else who wants to take over?" I guess.

"Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."

"Hades," I say, raising an eyebrow.

Chiron nods. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."

A scrap of aluminum dribbles out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh - what?"

"A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminds him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades."

"Yes, but - but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protests. "Especially if he has found out Percy and (Y/n) are children of Poseidon . . ."

"A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continues. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy and (Y/n) to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill these young half-bloods before he can take on the quest."

"Great," I mutter. "That's two major gods who want to kill us."

"But a quest to . . ." Grover swallows. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in someplace like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy and (Y/n) must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

A strange fire burns in my stomach. The weirdest thing is, it isn't fear. It's anticipation. The desire for revenger. Hades had tried to kill me two times so far with the Minotaur, and the hellhound. It is his fault my mother had disappeared in a flash of light. Now he is trying to frame me, my dad, and my brother for a theft we hadn't committed.

Grover is trembling now; he'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips.

The poor guy had to complete a quest with me and Percy so he could get his searcher's license, whatever that is, but how can I ask him to do this quest, especially when the Oracle said we were destined to fail?" This is a suicide mission.

"Look, if we know it's Hades," Percy tells Chiron, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus and Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads."

"Suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron says. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?"

"You're saying I'm being used," Percy says.

"I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon had claimed you and (Y/n) now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs the two of you."

My dad needs us.

Emotions roll around inside me like bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. I don't know whether to feel resentful or grateful or happy or angry. Poseidon had ignored me for twelve years. Now suddenly he needed me.

3rd Person POV

Percy looks at Chiron. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?"

"I had my suspicions. As I said . . . I've spoken to the Oracle, too."

(Y/n) gets the feeling that there is a lot he wasn't telling them about the prophecy, but she decides that she couldn't worry about that at the moment. After all, she and Percy were hiding back information too."

"So let me get this straight," Percy says. "We're supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."

"Check," Chiron says.

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check."

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

"That's about right."

(Y/n) looks over at Grover, who gulps down the ace of hearts.

"But I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" he asks weakly.

"You don't have to go," Percy tells him. "I can't ask that of you."

"Oh . . ." He shifts his hooves. "No . . . it's just that satyrs and underground places . . . well . . ." He takes a deep breath, then stands, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his t-shirts. "You saved my life, (Y/n), Percy. If . . . if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let the two of you down."

Percy feels so relieved that he wanted to cry, though he didn't think that would be very heroic. Grover is the only friend she'd ever had for longer than a few months. Percy isn't sure what a satyr can do against the forces of the dead but he feels better knowing he'd be with them.

"All the way, G-man," Percy turns to Chiron. "The Oracle just said to go west."

"The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America."

"Where?"

Chiron looks surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

Percy's POV

"Oh," I said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane -"

"No!" Grover shrieks. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?"

I shake my head, feeling embarrassed. My mom had never taken me and (Y/n) anywhere by plane. She'd always said we didn't have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash.

"Percy, think," Chiron says. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive."

Overhead, lightning crackles and thunder booms.

"Okay," (Y/n) says, not looking up at the storm. "So, we'll travel overland."

"That's right," Chiron says. "Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered if you will accept her help."

(Y/n)'s POV

"Gee," I say, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a suicide quest like this?"

The air shimmers behind Chiron.

Annabeth Chase becomes visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket.

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, Seaweed Brain," she says. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

"If you do say so yourself," I say. "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?"

Her cheeks flush. "Do you want my help or not?"

The truth is, I do. I need all the help I can get.

"A quartet," I say. "That'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron says. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashes. Rain pours down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron says. "I think you should all get packing."

Word Count: 4018 words

#percy jackson x sister reader #percy jackson and the olympians reader insert #female reader #reader insert #fem reader

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fortune-fool02 · 3 years

Text

Mall Crawl (Mer!Pillarmen AU)

Aja Mall was closed for the night.

Locked shut and deserted, there was nothing stirring in the establishment in the darkness of night. A few dim lamps remained on, but otherwise, it was all darkness and quiet, save for the stagnant drips of the main lobby fountain.

The fountain, however had been leaking for a while, and a few stray splashes dampened the smooth tiled floor. By sheer chance, some of the water began to drain onto a ledge, where it leaked down to the lower ground floor art exhibit, and dribbled onto a set of statues, ancient stone sculptures proudly on display in the historic gallery, and depicted, carved in repose, four masculine figures in repose, each sporting a great fish's tail below their waist.

Except they weren't sculpted at all.

As the leaking water moistened them the stony shells began to soften and crumble away. All they needed was water, something they had been deprived of for ages, what with the museum's insistence on keeping these priceless artifacts dry, and took great care to ensure that not a drop of water touched them.

But now it did, and for the first time in four thousand years, the figures began to move again.

With a wet slap one of the figures, bearing a dull, silvery-gray tail and sporting a single horn upon his head, dropped out of the stone and onto the wet floor. Groggily he looked about. This wasn't the temple of the ancients, he thought, turning his attention toward the other figures still encased in stone. This was a strange foundation carved out by those...those primitives, who walked on the land.

"Lord Kars...Lord Esidisi..." he mumbled, as he crawled across the floor on his powerful arms, toward the other two figures. "Our time has come again..."

Scooping up some of the water that had pooled on the floor in his webbed hands, he splashed it onto the two stone figures that had lain on either side of him for decades. His eyes, suited for darkness, grew wide with anticipation as he watched their rocky cocoons slowly melt away.

"Awaken, my masters!" he cried.

A wet flop on each side soon followed as the other two mermen burst from their shells, which they had formed to survive drying out when water was withheld from them. There they had slumbered for millennia, until a fluke of events awekened them once again: in a changed new world they did not recognize.

"Wamuu..." Kars groaned hoarsely, as he pushed himself up by his arms. "W-where are we?"

"I know not where we have found ourselves, my lord," Wammu replied respectfully with a bow. "We shall soon see."

"We appear to be above the surface, judging by the lack of water," Esidisi added, stretching out his fiery orange tail with a yawn. "Our first priority should be to return to the sea...Lord Kars?" He suddenly added, confused, as he saw his wild-haired superior dragging himself away, clearly interested in something else.

"Fascinating..." Kars muttered to himself, as he slithered down the art hall, his violet tail trailing behind. "We appear to be in the hall of the primitives, how they have advanced over the years..." He continued crawling, while Esidisi urgently squirmed after his high lord.

"Lord Kars, we don't have time...the call of the sea awaits us!" he called out. Kars shot back a wicked smile. "The ocean can wait, Esidisi. There is something more of interest I desire to see."

Wammu followed the two with several heavy flops. "My master, what about Santana?"

Kars sneered as he pulled himself onward. "Leave him, Wamuu. He isn't important." Wamuu sadly nodded and followed behind the other two.

Hauling and dragging themselves forward in a display of ungainly strength, they began to slowly make their way along the hall. It sported a gallery of artistic wonders of the ancient world --which moments ago included themselves-- before the pathway opened up into a wide open space, filled with strange rooms and odd structures, and a window in the ceiling that let the bright moonlight in.

Soon the three mermen began to explore the strange cathedral of the landfolk that they found themselves in. It was more difficult for them to move without water, but the strange, smooth floors, more polished than any of them had ever seen, was easy for them to pull their heavy bodies across with only the power of their arms.

They gazed around in fascination and amazement as they heaved themselves along, eager to see more like three very unusual tourists, glancing about at the sights in wonder. To human eyes the mall was all but darkness: but their eyes were designed for the pitch depths of the sea, and could partake in the colorful splendor a landwalker could only enjoy in the daytime.

"Their structures are marvelous," Wammu exclaimed, sliding his way over to a set of metal steps. A red button glowed faintly at its base, and the horned merman curiously inspected it, while elsewhere, Kars clawed his way forwards into a small room, where strange, colorful fabrics hung in hooks and lines.

"Splendid, very splendid," he said, reaching up as high as he can from his position on the floor to pull down one of the fabrics. It felt soft and velvety to the touch, though to Kars's disappointment the garment was too small to fit his toned muscular body when he tried to put it on, leaving his upper arms and belly comically exposed.

"Nonetheless, their fashion is admirable," he mumbled to himself. "I sure shall miss their beautiful art when we eventually destroy their puny race..."

"Lord Kars!" Esidisi urged, as he wriggled his way into the store. "Now is not the time for distractions, we must find a way back to the ocean!"

"A few moments could not hurt," Kars snapped irritably, as he tried on a fancy hat on display, which he struggled to squeeze onto his horned, purple-maned head that was far too big for it.

Outside the small shop Wamuu had been fiddling with the metallic steps, trying to see how they moved and worked. He pressed the small buttons that gleamed from the bottom, testing to see if anything would happen--and to his surprise, the steps began to move, with him still on it.

Wammu was gripped with panic as the steps carted him upwards, toward an unknown destination. His frightened surprise, however, turned to amazement as he realized that the steps had guided him to a second floor of the establishment, full of other things he otherwise could not access from below.

"This must be how they go from level to level," he mused.

Downstairs, Esidisi tried in vain to reason with Kars, who seemed to be more interested in taking the fashionable items of the landwalkers than he was at getting back to the sea.

"Does this dress accentuate the splendor of my tail?" Kars asked with a hint of seduction in his voice, as he lay on his side to show off the flowing skirt he had pulled from one of the shelves.

"Anything, anything looks marvelous on you, my lord!" Esidisi pleaded. "But we have greater things to be accomplished! Where is Wammu!?" he demanded.

"I have come, my masters," Wammu called out from the top of the moving steps, followed by a full minute of awkward silence as he slowly but surely descended while he sat on one of the steps.

Esidisi grimaced in confusion, as Wamuu finally reached the bottom of the steps. "What a ridiculous place."

In the meantime, the leaky fountain back at the gallery had begun to flood the art exhibit, moistening the petrified form of the one left behind-- Santana. He emerged coughing and groaning onto the wet floor, and he thrashed about in confusion until he finally caught his bearings.

His heart sank as his eyes fixed onto the three empty holes in the stone wall. Once again, his masters had abandoned him. He had always felt lesser than they were, but this was a low blow, even for Kars.

Now he was all by himself in a strange deserted environment on land, and his grief and frustration soon gave way to another sensation-- hunger. He needed to find some food after so very long.

Guided by his keen sense of smell, Santana began to crawl across the smooth tiles, in the opposite direction the others had gone. There was surely something to find within the empty construction, he thought, as he made his way, arm over arm, toward an opening in the end of the hall.

His red-magenta tail began slapping the floor eagerly as he crawled, as he caught a familiar salty scent as he entered a strange chamber, one prominently lettered with the symbols "S-U-P-E-R-M-A-R-K-E-T": if Santana had known how to read, which he didn't.

Dead fish lay neatly arranged on trays of ice, and Santana reached up and grabbed them hungrily, feasting on them cold and raw. He devoured one or two before something else caught his attention, small colorful bags that were lined up on a shelf. He crawled his way over and reached out to grab one.

He popped open the bag with his sharp claws to find that it was mostly filled with air, but inside were small, brittle chips. He shoveled some into his mouth, and savored their salty flavor and crisp texture. Landfolk food was new and appealing to the redhead merman, and he wanted more. He crawled from aisle to aisle, pulling boxes from shelves low enough for him to reach and feasting eagerly on their curious contents.

Elsewhere in the mall, Kars had concluded his tour. He had adorned himself with all sorts of apparel he could find, necklaces, hats stacked on top of each other, slippers worn on his hands as he had no feet. He was a crawling fashion disaster, and had Wamuu and Esidisi not feared their highlord's furious might, they would have laughed.

"I am satisfied," Kars grinned, shuffling his way over to a shiny door to admire his reflection, flicking his tail pridefully.

"Now my lord, shall we try to seek the ocean?" asked Esidisi through gritted teeth and restrained laughter.

"We shall, my friends," Kars replied. "All water comes to the sea or leads to it...first we must find the source and follow it to freedom".

Propelled by their muscular upper halves, while their scaly lower halves, practically useless outside the water, dragged along behind them, the mermen made the slow, arduous journey toward where they soon found the pipes that led to the mall's drainage system. Gazing down into the canals, they saw the water was cloudy, and the mermen were hesitant, but they knew it led out to a river and into the sea, and whatever filth was in the water was well worth their trouble.

Esidisi jumped in first, followed by Wamuu, who felt the relief of the water's weightlessness and refreshing coolness after so many centuries. Kars came last, gazing hesitantly at all his attire that he'd haphazardly piled onto his body.

"A shame I have to ruin these...a small price to pay for freedom." He closed his eyes and threw himself into the murky water, hats, dresses and all.

Now all they needed was to find the sea.

Back at the supermarket, Santana continued his sampling of the land food, unaware of the others' departure. Soon he had eaten his fill, and curiously sought to see more of this unusual place.

Crawling out of the transparent doors of the shadowy room, he found himself outside of the building. He was under the open air, with the moon shining above, and before him was a large flat rock on which drove strange carriages with glowing lights, while in the distance tall buildings towered up in the sky: nothing like the human cities Santana remembered ages before.

He tried to crawl forward, but the large flat rock was rough. Rougher than the smooth floors of the mall, and painfully scraped his belly, elbows, and the underside of his tail. Santana groaned with discomfort, but stubbornly continued on.

But he wasn't alone.

(Y/N), a security guard of a neighboring building, had just ended their shift at 2AM and were preparing to go home, traveling down the sidewalk toward the bus stop.

And the last thing they expected to see, so late at night, was a naked man struggling prone on the sidewalk, his long vermilion hair wet and glistening.

Except he was no man at all, (Y/N) realized, as it dawned on them at a closer look that where his legs should have been, was instead a glittering, scarlet tail with bright magenta fins.

"H-holy shit," gasped (Y/N), dropping their coffee cup in shock.

••••••••••••

#submission #merman au #merman santana #merman esidisi #merman kars #merman whamu #mer pillarmen

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philliamwrites · 3 years

Text

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

Fandom: The Case Study of Vanitas (Mochizuki Jun)

Pairing: Noé/Vanitas

Tags: #vanitas pines for noé, #implied/referenced past rape/non-con, #implied/referenced past childe abuse, #blood and unjury, #angst and feels, #forehead kisses

Words: 3.7k

Summary: Vanitas can’t sleep so he does the only other thing he’s good at besides curing vampires from the curse: harass Noé. It escalates royally and doesn’t end good. No one is surprised.

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

Moonlight casts slim, silver lines on Noé’s face.

Sitting on the windowsill, Vanitas can see the slow and steady rise of Noé’s chest, a constant rhythm speaking of life. How he has survived until today is still a wonder to Vanitas. Only a few feet separate him from the sleeping, defenceless body—a body he knows all too well capable of pulling tense like a bowstring when ready to strike; an animal equipped with lethal tools to hunt and destroy. But Noé is a paradox of black and white, a pacifist at heart that opens up too easily, too quick. Why else would he be interested in someone like Vanitas?

Their conversation at the top of the bell tower is still ringing all too clear in his head, a memory he’d rather strip from his mind and drop in the deepest part of a vicious, dark sea. Noé is dangerous, because unbeknown to himself, he has worked a strange magic on Vanitas, pulling at invisible chains curling around his neck however Noé pleases. If Vanitas didn’t know better, he’d call it Fate, but she has abandoned him long ago to suddenly return like a sullen lover and beg him for companionship.

“Louis,” Noé murmurs, drawing back Vanitas’s attention, and no, he isn’t jealous, not in the slightest. He just wants to reach inside Noé’s mouth and rip that name out of him. He hates that even though Noé is easy to read like an open book, it turns out its pages are filled with enigmas Vanitas is unable to solve.

A little huff escapes him as he slides down the windowsill, his feet landing eerily quiet on the floor. Watching Noé snore undisturbed, he’s quite sure he’s met what must be the worst vampire of his kind. What else explains his utter lack of awareness of danger? Vanitas imagines slipping right next to him and sliding a dagger across his throat or put the barrel right above his heart, pulling the trigger.

He’s so easy, Vanitas thinks, barely holding back a scoff. In so many ways.

Noé shifts, and Vanitas stops, only noticing then he’s already crossed the room and has almost reached Noé’s bedside. And that’s another thing he can’t stand about Noé: He makes Vanitas do things impulsively, barely spending another thought if what he’s about to do is beneficial or utterly disastrous—no matter that, in most cases he is already moving, already talking, and it’s so aggravating that 80 percent of what he’s saying in a sentence starts or ends with Noé’s name on his lips. Like a blessing, like a prayer. Vanitas doesn’t pray, not anymore. He’s stopped long ago, and no God, Saint or Martyr’s promise of benediction would be enough for a reward to make him resume.

So they punish him, and surely Noé is just another part of what they hold in store for him. Another explanation isn’t possible, because why of all nights in which he has visited Noé, this time he wakes up, his warning only a little hum before Vanitas is met with a sleepy face and white hair adorably ruffled.

No, not adorable, he tells himself. Terrible. Annoying.

“Vanitas?” Noé’s voice is rough on the edges and thick with sleep. “You can’t sleep?”

Vanitas feels challenged to say, “No, watching people sleep is one of my many exotic hobbies!” but he’s tired and sort of really desperate for some form of rest, so defeated, he admits, “No, I can’t.”

Noé considers him with more regard, and Vanitas wonders what he thinks, watching him stand in his room, barefoot and with deep shadows under his eyes. Just the previous day, he'd commented that Vanitas wasn’t looking well at all, and he'd asked if they should rest for a while. Vanitas had pressed on even harder, refusing Noé another good look at his battered form.

The silence stretches before them like a lazy beast, unmoving but still ready to pounce any second. Eventually, Noé offers with a carefully even voice, “Do you want to know what always helped me falling asleep when I was a child?”

Vanitas scoffs. “No, I really don’t.”

“Good,” Noé says, either not noticing or ignoring Vanitas rolling his eyes. “Whenever I couldn’t fall asleep, I’d go to Domi’s room and climb into her bed. Knowing someone was beside me helped, and I can sleep much better with someone warm next to me.”

“My, do I look like a ten year old boy, barely able to fend for myself that I need to share my bed with someone?” Vanitas cocks his head to the side, squinting at Noé from under his black lashes. “And who would want to lie next to a rough sleeper like you, ending up as a body pillow for your serving!”

Noé arches a slim, white eyebrow and lifts his blanket. Vanitas stares at him for a moment, then moves towards him like a moth to the flame and crawls under the sheets, settling right next to the other boy. “What a splendid idea!” no one says, because it isn’t.

Noé is a furnace beside him. Whatever space Vanitas tries to bring between them, he immediately bridges, pressing his arm against Vanitas’s.

“Dominique is going to kill me if she hears about this,” he murmurs into the darkness, ignoring how Noé’s calf feels against his bare ankle. “If you so much as mention it to her, I will haunt you down and slay you.”

Noé hums as he turns around to face him, snuggling into the blanket. Vanitas tries to lie as still as possible. He imagines he is a rock at the bottom of a vast sea where he’s been for hundreds of years and will remain for another hundreds of years. It works until he feels Noé’s warm breath ghost over his cheek and in his imagination, Vanitas sees the rock carried away with the water current.

“She won’t bother,” Noé says. “Like I said, we used to do that all the time as kids. Me, Domi and—” The sudden silence feels like the air sucked out of the room so no sound can travel. Vanitas can feel his shoulders tense, his breath caught somewhere on the way from his lungs to his mouth.

Don’t say Louis, don’t say Louis, he thinks.

“And Louis,” Noé finishes quietly, another breath on Vanitas’s skin.

“Then we must be talking about a different Dominique,” Vanitas says, not indulging at all in the boy that’s written in blood on Noé’s tongue and hands. “But then again, you are her favourite thing, and she would do anything for you. Do me one favour, would you? Don’t invite me to your wedding.”

Noé makes a strange, curious sound, and draws his knees up to his chest. Vanitas tries to accommodate by moving further towards the edge but half of his body is already hanging off, barely covered by the blanket. He shivers and turns to his side, now facing Noé and notices too late what a terrible idea that is with only a few inches separating their faces. His eyes shift from Noé’s ears to his cheekbones and focus on where his lashes throw dark shadows on his skin.

“Wedding?” Noé blinks up at him. “Me and Domi? What makes you think that we would marry?”

“What makes you think you won’t?”

“Dominique is like a sister to me.” Noé hums another little, low note, leaning his head forward. Vanitas leans back. “No, she is the sister I always wished for. I love her as family.”

“Why, go and break her heart like that.” Vanitas sighs, faking a concerned huff. Either the soft fabric just under the tip of his fingers is his own coat or Noé’s pyjama, and he doesn’t dare moving to find out. “Or maybe you’re actually naive enough to believe she feels the same way.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” He can practically hear the other boy frowning. “I’m certain she too loves me as a brother. And should she ever decide to marry, I’ll surely be sad, but it doesn’t matter as long as she’s happy. I just know she’ll be a beautiful bride.”

Vanitas rolls his eyes, unable to believe such gullibility and there’s nothing he wants to do more than claw his way into Noé’s heart and see what makes him tick like that, what mechanics work to produce such a strange specimen like him. But before he can give back a snark remark, Noé suddenly asks, “What about you?”

“Oh, I would make a lovely bride, thank you for asking.”

“No, I mean marriage,” Noé says after a poorly restrained chuckle. “Are you considering to marry Jeanne?”

Vanitas’s mouth forms a little ‘o’ before he barks out a laugh. “What in Heaven’s sake makes you think that?” he says, pressing one hand against his forehead because surely whatever Noé comes up with now will give him the headache that’s asserted itself within him since their first encounter.

Noé is quiet for a moment, then whispers, “Because you love her.”

Vanitas stops laughing. The headache doesn’t come, it’s dulled by the strange tone in Noé’s voice, one he fails to identify. It’s like grabbing mist, the whitish mystery clearly visible but slipping through his fingers.

“That is a very strong assumption,” he starts slowly, hearing the edge in his own voice. “But tell me, Noé, do you see me as someone who is capable of loving?” Noé’s breath hitches, his answer clear to Vanitas before even spoken, so quickly, and with a voice dark and hard, like late-winter ice, he adds, “A vampire of all things?”

Noé’s breath hitches again, this time sounding like a knife stabbed into his side. It does something funny to Vanitas, makes his heart jump a little out of tact, and he feels a smile slowly forming his lips into a crooked line. His hand sneaks up from under the blanket and reaches to grab a white lock, playing a contrast of black and white between his gloved fingers.

“I don’t love, Noé,” he whispers, pushing his cheek into the pillow that smells of Noé. “Not you, not Jeanne. Not humans, and certainly not vampires. I only consume those of value to my cause.” Like you. Like Jeanne and that boy she holds so dear.

Noé seems to understand, but he doesn’t pull away from Vanitas’s touch, which speaks volumes of whatever this connection between them is. No, he slightly turns his head, nuzzling into Vanitas’s hand, and with a shudder Vanitas realises how vulnerable the inside of his wrist is just inches away from Noé’s mouth and those hidden teeth that can easily rip apart his skin.

In this short moment he begs to whatever deities currently punishing him that he would bite him. Because then everything would easily fall into place, and he could kill Noé without second thought; without remorse.

Silver lines return to Noé’s face, and Vanitas blinks up at the window, at the narrow slit showing the moon emerging behind thick clouds, making Noé look like a piece torn out of the night sky: silver and black.

“Ah, but it seems there is someone else who adores you,” he says, his voice rising to a playful, ironic tint. He nods his chin towards the moon, and Noé turns around and away from Vanitas’s hand, blinking into the soft light. Just for a split second, his fingers twitch—toward Noé’s throat, his cheek, his lips?—but he already pulls it back under the blanket, still feeling exactly where Noé has touched him even through the thick fabric of his glove.

“La lune?” Noé turns back to Vanitas, brows drawn together.

“Yes, the very one. But I don’t recommend giving into it. You can only go so far on a roof after all before you reach the end.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know the story? About the man falling in love with the moon. He climbed up to a roof to reach her, but well. I think you can imagine the end of that.”

“It sounds like the moon is a harsh mistress,” Noé says slowly, surprising Vanitas in joining his antics, even following his train of thought. “La belle dame sans merci,” he whispers. “Then you two aren’t so different.”

Vanitas raises an eyebrow. “Beg your pardon?”

“Just as distant,” he says, shifting away from Vanitas for the first time. Good, Vanitas should think. Stay away from me. But instead he goes rigid and demands, Don’t go. “Just as out of reach.”

“Thank you, I try to keep things interesting,” Vanitas says, his voice hollow.

Noé surprises him (there it is again, being surprised when Vanitas has sworn that he’ll never underestimate another person ever again) by giving a soft chuckle. “But that makes me want to get closer to you even more, Vanitas.”

His mouth goes dry. His brain tries to follow up with whatever might rebuilt the wall between them, brick by brick, but instead his mind betrays him and takes over his mouth, babbling, “Did you know Alain Chartier wrote the poem about the merciless belle dame? It’s a little tacky to my taste, but then again, I wouldn’t beg anyone for their adoration. It’s a silly concept, the dialogue between the Lover and the Lady, I mean why would anyone ride out to enjoy a party, only to languish at the feet of—”

Noé groans. He stops the onslaught of words by slapping a hand on Vanitas’s mouth. The sudden silence stretches into uncomfortable territory until Vanitas can’t bear it anymore. He stares at Noé out from the corner of his eyes, and parts his lips to drag his tongue over Noé’s fingers. Noé flinches, and looks back at him with wide eyes. What usually did the trick to gross people out (Dante for example was fairly familiar with this concept and never failed to meet Vanitas’s expectations to draw away quickly) doesn’t work on Noé. He remains transfixed on Vanitas’s face as if all secrets of the universe display on his features, and Vanitas starts to questions his action. Suddenly, Noé shifts. He props himself on one elbow and leans over him, casting a long shadow over his upper body.

Just then, Vanitas realises what a dangerous situation he’s in. Up until this moment, he thought Noé to be shy, but that isn’t right at all. Noé is quiet resolve, and steadfast loyalty, he is the very silence ready to pounce and turn peace into havoc. It’s evident in how he watches Vanitas behind half closed eyes, those ruby mirrors considering him with an unreadable expression. His heart picks up, and before he can ascertain if this is a game he can win, he answers with sultry eyes himself, and mouths “Kiss me” against Noé’s skin.

It’s just out of curiosity, he tells himself. He wants to rile Noé up a little, see how far he can go and where he draws the line. Maybe Noé won’t do a thing and play the blushing maiden Vanitas imagines him to be. They both know it’s a dare Noé will lose because he respects Vanitas’s boundaries too much, and that little victory satisfies him already enough to smile into Noé’s hand triumphantly.

Noé considers him with a blank expression before his eyes slowly drift to his hand where it’s still secured over Vanitas’s mouth. Something changes in his eyes, they grow soft, and Vanitas immediately regrets what he’s done because he can’t bear the warmth in them, the unspoken promise of whatever Noé is willing to give him. He thinks about squirming out of the boy's touch, but he’s started moving his hand already, settling on Vanitas’s eyes. His heart stops. Rotten memories claw at the edge of his mind, hungry hyenas demanding blood and misery that this kind of darkness brings. Before he can lash out and push Noé away, soft moon light illuminates the darkness behind his closed eyes again, and he takes a deep, shaky breath, only now noticing that he’s stopped breathing. His eyes snap open, locking with Noé’s as he brushes black bangs out of Vanitas’s face. The moon shines a halo around Noé when he leans down and kisses his forehead.

It’s perfect.

Vanitas hates it.

He doesn’t move.

Noé’s lips are surprisingly soft. So is his smell, a faint fragrance of sandalwood with the sharp tint of clove and something coppery hidden under the layers, and there’s nothing better to describe it than home. The realisation cuts him in a sharp, painful flash, one that robs him of the air he’s only just now regained. Noé is careful that no other part of their bodies is touching, and it’s the last act of kindness that pushes something in him into a bottomless, black hole.

His fingers splay on Noé’s chest as he pushes him away, staring up into a slightly flushed face. The blushing maiden. Despite everything, it makes Vanitas smile.

“You live dangerous, my friend,” he murmurs, playing with a shirt button close to Noé’s collarbones. “But I will condone it this once. It seems I forgot one gets burned when playing with fire.”

Noé leans back, one hand beside Vanitas’s head carrying his weight, contemplating. Vanitas already knows whatever he’s going to say, it won’t be good.

“I never thought of you as someone who would yield to anything,” Noé says eventually. “Not even fire.” And quieter, he adds, “Ignis aurom probat.” Fire tests gold.

A shudder ripples through Vanitas’s body, stealing his control and causing him to laugh involuntarily because he doesn’t see himself as pure as gold, and Noé is so much more than a simple fire. Noé is a searing blaze, devastating cities and forests and leaving ashes of their self, allowing them to rebuild and regrow and turn away from an unwanted past. Vanitas would gladly sell his soul for such an opportunity, but he’s shackled by the shadow of a little boy half his height with a sweet voice and eyes the fairest blue even the sky envies.

“You’re quite the charmer, but you do know what they say about gold, don’t you?”

Noé hesitates, shifting a little, and even Vanitas with the little imagination that he has, can quite clearly picture how the muscles must shift beneath Noé’s dark skin on his back. He closes his eyes and breathes through his mouth. “Gold gives to the ugliest thing a certain charming air, For that without it were else a miserable affair.”

Noé pales. “I didn’t mean—”

“Shhh.” Vanitas smiles a smile Lucifer must have worn just seconds before God banished him from Heaven. His eyes don’t leave Noé for a second when he lifts a finger and presses it against Noé’s lips.

“I know, you didn’t mean to.” He rolls his eyes, voice in a mocking tone imitating what Noé was going to say because he’s easily predictable. “And you would never hurt me. But that makes us different. Because I will gladly hurt you if you let me.” He follows the soft curve of Noé’s lower lip with the tip of his finger until he reaches the corner of his mouth. There he curls his finger inside and pulls one side into a crooked smile. A sharp tooth grazes his skin, not quiet enough to break it, but a shiver travels down his back nonetheless.

Noé pulls Vanitas’s hand away from his face, looking down at him like he’s a strange animal he’s never seen before. A dull sadness settles over his eyes, but it’s too quick for Vanitas to really acknowledge.

“Not gold then,” Noé concludes with resolution in his voice. “But quicksilver.” And with that, he places Vanitas’s hand carefully back on his chest, and retreats to his side of the bed, laying down so Vanitas is faced with his broad back, his body completely turned towards the moon.

Vanitas blinks, stretching out one hand to follow the curve of Noé’s spine in the air with a finger, imagining what it would feel like to curl against this strong body and hold onto something what won’t break under his touch. He stays like that until he hears calm, deep breathing. Only then he lifts that same finger that’s been inside Noé’s mouth to his lips and sucks slowly until his mind talks him into believing it’s actually Noé he tastes.

I don’t love, he repeats over and over in his head until his eyes fall close and he drifts into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning starts just like Vanitas has always feared a morning sleeping beside another body would go. Waking up slowly to a woman’s voice in the far distance, he’s still walking on this slim line between sleeping and waking, a coma really, when his conscience registers a heavy arm around his waist and warm breath in his neck. His body locks up into one painful, tense muscle; all desperate instinct and frightened awareness because No, I don’t want Doctor to touch me, and he starts frantically scrabbling for the dagger below his pillow only to find nothing. Vanitas feels punched back to when he’s eleven and caged under Moreau’s heavy, naked body, a choked whimper like a wounded animal leaving his mouth. The arm moves, allowing the tiniest leeway. Vanitas doesn’t think. He swings his arm as hard as he can and hears the satisfying crack of a bone breaking. The man beside him gives a surprised shout, and Vanitas jumps to his feet, ready to break more than bones as the door crashes open at the same time, a woman storming inside.

“Noé?” Dominique cries, taking in how he's bent forward on the bed, holding his face. It doesn’t stop the blood dripping all over the white sheets, and Vanitas grows cold when her sharp eyes land on him, a furious hate boiling inside them. “What have you done, human?” she hisses, reaching Noé’s hunched form within few steps.

Vanitas is lost for words, a quite frequent reaction whenever he’s in Noé’s proximity. But it isn’t like anything he’ll say can excuse or save him from Dominique’s wrath, so he just stands there, dumbfounded, and watches her valuate the graveness of Noé’s broken nose, wondering if the man who’s fallen off the roof in the pursuit of his love lost as much blood as Noé right now and if that was worthwhile, or if he’d have rather poisoned himself with quicksilver.

Not that it matters.

Both end in a painful, slow death.

I saw pale kings and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci Thee hath in thrall!’

[John Keats]

#philliamwrites #ap3 #fanfiction #the case study of vanitas #vanitas no carte #vannoe #vanitas #noe

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

April Contest Submission #15: Schrödinger’s break

Words: ca. 3,700 Setting: modern AU Lemon: no CW: wrong Witcher facts (sorry Yen!)

“What do you mean it doesn’t count?!” Anna could tell that her face was tomato-red, since she could feel the heat in her puffed-up cheeks.

“Well, they clearly were on a break, were they not?!” Elsa’s voice was positively dripping with restrained annoyance.

That was the difference between them - while Anna got heated up and was all fire, Elsa turned cold and icy. Anna hated that version of her sister. Ice queen, indeed. Yet with sick satisfaction, she noted that Elsa’s usually pale complexion also sported a hefty colour in her cheeks. She felt a flare in her throat and belly and, like an out-of-body experience, she couldn’t stop herself and this argument, and so pressed on:

“So you think cheating is okay then at the first sight of trouble - is that it?!”

“Well, how exactly is it cheating if they are not even together, Anna! Of course it’s scummy to-”

“So you think cheating is okay on a technicality? Wow, that’s very assuring, thanks a lot.” Anna huffed and crossed her arms indignantly. What does one even do with arms in situations like this?

“Why are you making this so personal - this is so stupid - I mean, how old is this show exactly now? 20 years?!” Elsa almost whispered to hopefully calm the situation down.

She was painfully aware of the people in the little cafe, giving them harsh side-looks and judging them quietly. Anna was immune to stuff like this, but Elsa felt their stares almost physically. And this was their usual cafe and go-to place on late-work mornings, which made it even worse.

Her fingers found the rounded edge of their table as she rubbed her thumb against it, until she finally found an imperfection that she could push her thumb in even harder.

The blonde side-glanced around them, not making any real eye contact yet trying to mentally ward off the surrounding people. Most of them quickly looked away as Elsa furiously glanced in their direction. She felt a headache coming on.

“So I’m stupid now for caring what my girlfriend thinks about cheating?”

“What, NO- how is that - I-I didn’t say anything like that!” Elsa’s fingers gripped the smooth wood of the table even harder; the pressure on her knuckles made her whole hand ache.

“Anna, let’s not do this right now” she tried to lower her voice even more, but could immediately tell by Anna’s face that it was a mistake. A big one.

“Yeah- okay, I get it. Let’s NOT do this!” The younger sister shuffled her phone back into her backpack, and yanked her haphazardly placed jacket hard from the chair at their table.

“Are you seriously storming out because of-“

“Yeah! Yeah, I am!” Anna roughly pushed her arms through the sleeves of her rain-jacket. Her braids were rabidly bobbing with every jerky action of the furious redhead. “Do you think I’m too stupid,” she angrily signed quotation marks at this “to not know how embarrassed you are right now?!”

Elsa couldn’t help but glance around them, to the other patrons of the cafe, as Anna practically yelled their grievances into the air.

“See!! You’re doing it right now! If I’m too embarrassing for you as it is, I’m going! So - have fun!”

Anna quickly slung her backpack on her shoulder, stomping out as quickly as she could and leaving a speechless Elsa at their table.

She didn’t dare to look around again, since it would have been pointless anyway. She could practically feel all of their stares like daggers.

She kept her eyes down on her now lukewarm chocolate and angrily blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. She stopped gripping the table to nurse her aching head with her fingers.

She always hated Ross.

***

“What crawled into your morning coffee and gave you the biggest resting bitch face I’ve ever seen? And that’s already accounting even your usual standards!”

Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose. She loved Meg, she really did. In fact, she was her favourite coworker in all of Arendelle Corp, but today she felt like she was not capable of the banter and dry wit this required.

“Meg, just leave her alone already! Can’t you see she’s struggling as it is?!” Raps piped up. Leave it to her PA to fend off the inquisitive brunette. But knowing her, it will do no good anyway.

“Hey blondie. I meant snowflake over there. Leave the talk to the grown-ups.” Meg countered with her usual dismissiveness.

“Oh stop it, you two! You’re giving me a bigger headache as is.” Elsa slapped her papers on her desk. When she looked up, she could practically see the concern in her friend’s eyes - a rare sign indeed, to see Meg so open about her emotions.

“I think someone needs a sugar fix - blondie, get your boss some hot chocolate… and make it extra sweet.” Meg sat on the edge of Elsa’s desk, looking over to the short-haired PA to gauge her reaction.

Rapunzel looked over her boss and saw the plea in her eyes, pleading for peace and not the usual shenanigans those two got up to. She sighed.

“Alright, I’m on my way.” She slowly packed her things up, made sure to turn down the volume of her little hot-pink Bluetooth speaker and took her purse with her.

When she quietly closed the door, Meg didn’t waste another second.

“Okay, so what’s wrong? You look like you’re… ” She briefly touched Elsa’s shoulder but didn’t leave it there. She knew her too well for that.

Elsa dropped her head into her hands and breathed in deeply.

“I had a huge fight with Anna this morning… and the worst part is I don’t even know for what and why? We started to talk about what we used to do as children-” she swallowed harshly because she knew she had to be careful.

The official story was that they were childhood friends. It was easy to change the general logistics of their meeting. But it was hard, in some specific cases, to veil how deep their connection was.

“-and we talked about Friends.” she concluded.

“Wait - the TV show?”

“Yeah, Friends.” Elsa clarified “So all of a sudden we get to the topic of Ross and Rachel’s break-up and it goes all downhill from there about cheating and about how I didn’t think he did-“

“You don’t?” Meg asked her surprised.

“No, I don’t. They were on a BREAK.” Elsa felt her cold anger gripping her again. It was so pointless and unnecessary - stupid Ross! - why did this keep happening?!

Meg’s laughter snapped her out of her thoughts.

“I’m sorry snowflake, but this has to be the cutest yet most idiotic lover’s quarrel I have ever heard in my whole life, so far.” Meg ran her fingers through her hair. “I know it’s rude to laugh… but Elsa. I mean.” She stopped there but let out another snort.

“I know, I .. it’s positively atrocious.” She breathed out her frustration. “I really don’t know what this means or what even caused this. Nothing has been out of the ordinary lately. At least I think so…?” She frantically started to question herself. Was she just not seeing it? Was she so inconsiderate and not noticed her sister’s pain or grievances of late? What if it wasn’t nothing and it turned out-

“And is she by any chance on her period or getting there?”

“Meg, that’s sexist!” Elsa said indignantly.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it untrue.” Meg shrugged “I always get bitchy around that time and boy, do I get all the feels when it happens.”

“You’re always bitchy.” Elsa deadpanned.

“I know. But you love me for it.” Meg nudged the blonde’s shoulder as another small snort escaped Elsa.

“So in any case” Meg soldiered on, “what’s the grand romantic gesture you planned to show your undying love now that it happened?”

“A… grand gesture?” Elsa didn’t like the sound of this. Not at all.

“Oh Elsa, Elsa… why are you so clueless about women when you are one yourself - of course grand gesture! Something that’s bigger than your fight, so as to leave that the only big impression of the day!” She side-glanced at Elsa, a mischievous grin on her lips.

“Get her something big or better: get some poor street performers and make them sing some positively sappy love-song or something while you stand in a sea of roses telling her how dumb you have been.”

“Well, that sounds totally feasible.” Elsa shook her head into her hand, cradling her chin as she stared into space. She never was someone to openly show her feelings… or her life to others. And the idea was simply ridiculous.

She startled as her PA quietly opened her door with one hand, the other cradling the promised hot chocolate and a paper bag with something positively lovely-smelling in it.

“I thought, what’s better than hot chocolate? A fresh chocolate croissant to it! So… double the fun?” Rapunzel smiled, all teeth, and it was hard to not feel her heart softening at that. She had it good here.

“Alright snowflake, enjoy your spoils and tell me your battle plan once you have it!”

Meg fished out one of her reports on Elsa’s desk - thank god it was already finished - and sauntered off without looking back.

Rapunzel placed her beverage and pastry bag on the very same spot Meg just sat on, and went back to her desk to turn up the volume on her little radio.

“Thanks Raps. You’re an angel.” Elsa smiled as she opened up the lid of her steaming hot chocolate, savouring the smell of the sweet concoction.

As Rapunzel laughed at that, she tugged her short hair back behind her ears “You tell Mr. Weselton that, when you have the chance.”

The radio tuned into an upbeat song they played at least 3 times in the span of a day. If Elsa recalled correctly, her PA told her they’re a Korean girl band and all the rage now. Pink something… hm.

“Say… how does that little speaker of yours work and where did you get it?”

***

Anna tugged on her new and tight yoga pants, trying to get the seam out of her crotch. To no avail. Typical.

“… at the same time there is a lightness; a sensation of floating. Feel both of these things at once. You feel the waves lapping at your feet. They beckon you to step closer. One step at a time, you feel the purifying power of the ocean. Its body envelopes you. Notice if your tongue is touching the roof of your mouth. Let your tongue soften down…”

Anna stood in the middle of the living room, the furniture haphazardly pushed against the walls.

The TV was still on and the PlayStation was still running, but at least it was muted. The Witcher was still standing in the maze, waiting for any input to further this party along. Amiss in between all those pompous Novigrad nobles and probably feeling kind of lost? …

Wasn’t he supposed to look for his missus? Jennifer… or something? It was already some time ago she played it last and had a hard time keeping it all straight.

But Anna tried to not think about this. About how this reminded her of Elsa. Elsa, who loves reading and who devoured the whole series in a matter of days. She just got the game to be able to talk to her about it - and it was really good, actually! She started with the third and last one, but she could piece things together with Elsa’s little anecdotes and the overall pointers in the story, but no - here she was. NOT thinking about it. No sirree!

“… it carries away your sorrows. It affirms the power within you. Life is good. Life is precious. Say it-”

“Say it.” Anna murmured and tried to concentrate on the voice again, pushing any thought of Jen or Elsa out of her mind.

“- out loud.”

“Out loud.” Anna’s voice rose with the last word.

“Life is peace.”

“Oh.” She opened her eyes. Now she felt silly.

With a deep breath, Anna closed them again and envisioned the waves lapping at her feet. Again and again. She pictured seagulls in the distance, imagined hearing their distinctive cry. They got closer. Their cries got shriller as the waves of the water, imaginatively yet unruly, lapped against her feet, quicker and quicker, with harsh -

“Fudge this!” Anna tugged on her braids as she groaned out loud.

Wasn’t meditation supposed to make her feel better? To forget and relax? What a mess she was still feeling. Still an undercurrent of anger and hurt, but mostly regret now. She could see how she took this way too far, how it tugged on her insecurities - mostly unfounded, she could admit! - of her constant abandonment issues, even if Elsa showed no indication of leaving her. Even if she could tell that, sometimes their .. unusual situation was still not sitting right with the older sibling at points. But mostly, it was good! Really.

Now all Elsa had to do was come back from work so they could talk it out, make up, and kiss it better… So that was the plan. But it was already later than usual for her sister to return home. If only she could calm herself down enough to rationally and calmly talk through it so it wouldn’t even be a bigger mess than it was right now. What was the worst that could happen, right? No matter what, they still were family! At least that, even if - Anna painfully tugged on her braids again.

She took a deep breath and tried to banish all feverish thoughts from her head. She listened to her breathing as it flowed in and out. She listened to the little specks of sounds coming from the window. She could almost make out a pattern as the little clanks came almost every three breaths.

- Wait, what?!

Anna hesitantly went over to the window; all the while the suspicious sounds didn’t cease to stop. Just as she reached it, she saw a tiny pebble hit the windowpane as it immediately dropped down again. Pushing the flimsy curtain aside, she looked down wearily. What kind of crazy - serial killer or stalker really- would do this?!

But what she found was her older sister flicking those pebbles up their window. Her cheeks were unusually flushed and Anna could see her breath escaping red lips in harsh puffs, curling in the cold air. Her golden hair was wind-whipped and some loose strands escaped and fluttered in the breeze. She’s never seen Elsa so…disheveled and radiant at the same time. She looked like a spirit stepped out of the night. Like a beautiful and elegant… wraith? Wait, was that even a thing?

As she fiddled with the old window lock, she watched as Elsa dropped all her stones on the ground as she frantically rummaged through her purse with one hand; the other one was clutching her phone tightly.

“Elsa?” Anna called out just as Elsa was straightening herself again, with one arm outstretched above her head with a small hot pink… device held high above her.

“Elsa - what.. ?”

“Anna! I-I’ve been so stupid,” Elsa cried out “it doesn’t matter that we don’t see eye to eye on everything or that we’re different - but whatever happens, I’ve always-” just then a guitar riff cut the blonde off as a familiar male voice started to sing

So no one told you life was gonna be this way

-Clap clap clap clap-

Your jobs a joke, you’re broke

Your love life’s DOA -

Anna couldn’t hold back the manic laughter that escaped her as she frantically tried to take everything in. Was this really happening?!

Her sister making a fool out of herself. In front of their window. In front of their neighbours. In front of everyone. And most importantly, in front of her! That was so not Elsa and yet here she was, doing this to make her laugh and to prove to her how much she means to her. She could feel tears prickling in her eyes even as she sported the biggest grin that she tried to hide behind her hands.

your week, your month

Or even your year but

“I’ll BE THERE FOR YOOOUU” Elsa belted as she stood there steadfast yet with the pink Bluetooth speaker slightly wobbling in her hand as she pushed through the strain in her left arm.

Elsa felt terrified about the whole spectacle, but her worries took a backseat as she saw Anna clearly laughing, her eyes shining with happiness. So - huge success! And worth everything ten times over.

(When the rain starts to pour)

“I’LL BE THERE FOR YOUU” Anna joined her this time even when her voice cracked a bit with emotion.

(Like I’ve been there before)

They both laughed out loud at themselves and couldn’t make it through the last chorus. Both their eyes were trained on just one another. Elsa’s heart felt full and like bursting in any second.

(‘Cause you’re there for me too)

The song came to its conclusion, yet Elsa was still standing there with her speaker held high. This time, Anna could tell the nervousness was replaced by elation and happiness, even through the awkward moment of silence that was now threatening to envelope them.

“Come up here already you sappy fool!”

Not a moment longer after the invitation, Elsa stuffed the speaker back into her purse and dashed to the front gate, avoiding to look into any windows as she did so.

She felt her thighs burn as she sprinted up the two flights of stairs in record speed to join her love.

She could hear the keys turning just on the last steps of the stairs, as the warm glow of their apartment illuminated the dark staircase. She looked up just as her sister stepped into the door frame. Anna was encompassed in the soft glow of the light that looked almost like a halo around the contours of her body. After this rough day, it truly seemed like a vision to Elsa.

“Anna, I’m so sorry-“

“Oh, Elsa. But stop. Just come to me already - please!” the redhead sniffed as she wiped her nose with her wrist.

Elsa practically flew into her arms. Her arms snaked around the scrawny shoulders as she pushed her head into the crook of her neck and breathed in deeply. She felt Anna trembling in her embrace, and she was glad to hear the snort of laughter through the tears as she did so.

“I love you so much, Anna. Let’s never��do this again.” she breathed into her sister’s collarbone as she pushed her cheek further into the warm skin of Anna’s shoulders.

“It had a pretty remarkable end, if you ask me - so… I won’t make any promises” Anna left a wet kiss on her forehead as she rubbed the blonde’s back soothingly up and down. “But let’s go inside. I’m sure the neighbours are entertained enough for now.”

Elsa gently pushed Anna and herself inside as she closed the door behind her and double-locked the locks.

Once safe inside, she let herself rest against the locked door and let her fingers push against the sturdy wood as she did so.

Anna was taking her girlfriend in with a soft smile. She knew how much this took out of Elsa and what a big step this was for her to do. And she loved her even more for it. Anna watched her like a hawk as she pushed herself up to take off her boots and her coat and meticulously hung everything up in its space at their coat rack.

With patience never being her strong suit, Anna immediately bounced on her lover once she put everything away and pushed her back into the groaning door. Her lips sought out her sister’s as she pressed her harshly against it. Elsa frantically deepened the kiss, her cold hands holding Anna’s cheeks closely as her fingers stroked her temples. Anna felt breathless at the heat that threatened to engulf her, yet the cold and gentle fingers ground her to reality. She had to break the kiss for air but stayed close to Elsa’s lips, not being able to bear any distance between them right now.

“I love you so much, Elsa I…”

The smile the blonde gave her was a radiant one.

Elsa’s hand found its way around Anna’s hips, brushing the curve of them and enjoying the soft material. She kissed the freckles right beside Anna’s nose, one of her favourite spots in general. It always made Anna melt.

“You’re so sweet, my love.”

Her hands started to warm up, Anna could tell, as Elsa gently tugged on hers to lead her further into their apartment.

“What happened here?” Elsa’s eyebrows rose high as she saw the mess that was left in their living room. Anna felt Elsa’s hand gently squeeze hers.

“Well .. I thought I’d try to center myself with some meditation and some yoga or something.”

“Oh, now those pants make sense… though I wouldn’t mind any occasion, really.” Anna felt her cheeks flush as she saw her sister’s eyes roam over her. “They suit you, you know.”

Why was it that Elsa could make her feel just like a lovelorn teenager just in a matter of seconds, even when they were already together for years now.

“Oh, what’s this? You’re playing the Witcher?” the blonde studied the scene in front of her.

Gerald sitting patiently in a garden - in his finest clothes? Elsa tried to place the scene in her head, considering that Anna started almost at the very end - so very much like her, mused Elsa.

“Yeah, it makes me think of you so…” Anna rubbed her neck. “I’m just at this party with Triss and we just kissed and now-“

Elsa whipped her head around instantly with a sudden and dangerous glint in her eyes.

“You what?!”

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

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csial · 4 days

Note

‘ i’m glad i have you now. ’ (from neuvi!)

"...And I, you."

Admissions are never the easiest thing to fall from his tongue, as jaded and twisted he can be within his emotions, and yet here, in this moment, no easier words are spoken. Three, small and insignificant words that convey a much larger meaning to one of the few he knows can understand him.

Slowly he turns to the other and studies his visage, chin coming to rest in his palm as his elbow finds purchase on the edge of his chair. With the way his head tilts as he does so, it is impossible to miss the change in his gaze, when blue hues soften with a glint of something gentle, something revering. He gives no word to it, but the weight of his gaze betrays him, emotions so plain even when he says nothing.

If he does not rein himself in, then even the water in their glasses may start shifting with the gentle wash of waves on a summer's day. How embarrassing.

"Who would have thought that we could sit here now, as we do, in a world made of Morax's favourite..." he hums thoughtfully, and for once the bitterness that those days carry is muted by the contentment he feels in the moment. The very fact he lets that name fall from his lips is telling enough. "I had thought it impossible for me to navigate. Almost assured I would be condemned to my cage once more..."

There is silence again, this one still speaking what he does not say. But there was you. It lingers as his lids lower over eyes briefly in a soft blink, in the way his lips curl ever so slightly in the corner before falling into their usual line. "I am sure I owe you some apologies for some headaches along the way..."

#apocryphis #ic. the sea does not like to be restrained / asks.#( neuvi tag goes here . )#( i am determined to think of one )#q.

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

To Catch a Selkie

What a fool, he was.

He liked to think himself smart, he liked to think himself clever, but he was anything but, currently.

Curiosity had always been his downfall, his failing, his one deadly fault. He would pursue answers to the ends of the earth, fascinated by a world that wasn’t his, that he had been warned time and time again was dangerous, but he hadn’t listened, had he?

And now, well, now his life may as well be over.

It was already fading, the memories of the sea, of ocean water, of slipping between the waves smoothly and sleekly, his pod around him. The pups playing, splashing, sidling up to the dolphins, the braver ones to the whales.

He had thought himself brave, once. But now he knew better. Reckless, that’s what he was, stupidly reckless.

He was cold. Cold was an unusual feeling for him. He’d never known real cold before. His coat always kept him warm.

But his coat was gone, now. Stolen. Just like every story he’d ever been told by his kin, every folktale warning of humans and their greed, he had succumbed to his own hubris.

He wouldn’t leave this beach. This was as close to home as he could get, just far enough away that the water wouldn’t touch him, the spray couldn’t reach him.

It was agony. It was torture. Watching the tide roll in, the gentle lapping of the waves, the spray of the salt, the clouded, windy sky, stretching out across that blue oasis.

He shivered, arms tightening around his middle, curling against himself, salty tears spilling down his face.

It hurt, stars above, it hurt. He could feel them calling to him, begging him to come home, to answer their calls, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t if he wasn’t touching the sea, and he could never touch the sea again.

“Hey! Are you ok? What are you doing out here?” He looked up at the worried voice, meeting green eyes and black hair, with white streaked bangs.

“What do you want?” His voice was flat, empty, exhausted. The stranger furrowed his brow, confused.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re barely wearing any clothes, sitting on the beach when a thunderstorm is rolling in, in the middle of autumn. Do you have a death wish, or something?”

“maybe. I haven’t quite decided yet, if it is better to die now or slowly waste away pining for the sea. Or perhaps my owner,” he spat the word, bitter on his tongue, “will find me and the last of my memories will fade until I have nothing left but an empty, yearning, desperate desire for something I can no longer name.” The stranger stared at him for a long moment, taking him in.

He was wearing ragged shorts, no shirt or shoes or anything else. His hair was smooth and silky, despite his constant exposure to salt water. His face was sharp and angular, what he supposed humans considered breathtakingly handsome, with his large, dark brown eyes and perfectly tanned skin. He supposed that’s what had got him into this mess in the first place.

He doubled over, clutching his head as a resounding, echoing cry keened through his mind, and he shot to his feet, barely restraining himself from rushing into the water, eyes wide and breaths heaving.

“no. No! I’m here! I’m right here, I’m not lost! PLEASE!” He screamed at the waves, knowing they couldn’t hear him, knowing they wouldn’t hear him, ever again.

Leaving him. They were leaving him. They were giving him up, they were migrating to new waters, they were marking him as lost, and the worst part was, as much as he hated it, as much as it tore him to pieces, they were right.

It was only logical. He had come ashore and not come back within 24 hours. It was too dangerous for anyone else to come ashore and search, not when they didn’t know what had happened, not when he might have been discovered, not when there could be others waiting.

Selkie coats sold for quite a fortune, after all.

So did the selkies they were attatched to.

He let out a harsh sob, would have collapsed to the ground if the stranger hadn’t caught him, lowered him gently to the sand.

He was doomed. His connection to the sea would grow weaker, his connection to his coat stronger, until he was forced, compelled, to go to it, to go to his master, to obey his orders.

And everyone knew what happened to selkies whose coats were stolen. Everyone knew what humans wanted with the alluring, beautiful, mysterioius sea folk.

Yet another loss, to shatter him, break him, soon his body, and worse, his mind, would no longer be his own. He was owned. Like a thing, like a toy, like a doll. Just the thought made him ill, truly, throwing himself into the sea and dissolving into the foam was the best possible option.

He was freezing. Or he thought he was. He was so cold he didn’t even feel cold anymore, a pleasant, fuzzy warmth filling him, as cold droplets began to fall from the sky. Each one left him feeling slick and slimy, like swimming through oil. It left him feeling dirtier than before, and he shuddered at the feel of it, bile rising in his throat.

The stranger was saying something, he thought. He couldn’t hear him over the buzzing in his ears, the cotton filling his head with fear/panic/pain/despair/longing. It was too much, it was too cold, it was too futile, and his brain shut down before he could drive himself further to madness.

…

Swimming. The water parts around him, as he swims. There’s a voice, calling him onwards, pulling him towards it. It sings with power, it glows with warmth, with the promise of all the answers he’s ever searched for, all the knowledge he could ever wish for, and he drives his tail faster through the water, towards the light.

Then it turns cold. Ice wraps around him, the water freezing, he can’t reach the surface, he can’t breathe, he’s running out of air. He thrashes, trying to escape the chains he can feel, dragging him down, words echoing through the water.

“Come to me.” Burns, it burns, he won’t, he can’t, he-

His eyes flew open and he let out a strangled cry of pain, squeezing his eyes closed and counting his breathes, shoving and fighting that voice until it abated, faded away into nothing, and he pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them tight, still shaking from the call.

It was so strong, already. So hard to resist, though he had been asleep, which made it more difficult to fight, but still. How long until it was completely enthralling? How long until he lost himself forever?

With another jolt of panic, he realized he wasn’t on the beach anymore. There had been a blanket draped around him, he was on a couch, in a house, and he felt his pulse speed. Had he already been caught? Were they just keeping him captive until his owner arrived? He had to fight, he had to think, he had to do something!

He looked around the room, a coffee table sat in front of him, a bookshelf against the wall, photos sitting on a shelf, an entertainment set with a television, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing he could use.

He froze as he heard footsteps, eyes dilating, and he bared his slightly too sharp teeth, hissing a warning as the human came into view. His hands were held in the air, and he took a step back, eyes lowered to the ground. Everything about his body language screamed I am not a threat, I don’t want to hurt you, and despite himself, he let his guard down. It was the stranger from the beach.

“You stopped hissing. Does that mean you’re not gonna bite me?” That got a small laugh out of him, the innocence and pure curiosity in the human’s tone.

“I am not. Why am I here?” He asked, uneasiness churning in his gut.

“Well, you passed out on the beach, and it looked like you had hypothermia, your lips were turning blue, seriously freaked me out, so I had to get you indoors and warmed up. We’re at my apartment, right now. My friend is also here, but, um, we decided it was best I come talk to you, since you already kinda knew me.” Well meaning, then. “I would have called someone, for you, but you didn’t have an id or anything, so, we were just waiting for you to wake up.” And considerate. Not intent on keeping him hostage then, that was a relief. Not that it mattered much.

“So… you’re a selkie, yeah?” He shot to his feet at that question, teeth bared again, fists clenched, eyes flashing as he backed up against the wall, so no one could get the drop on him. How did he know that? Had he gotten him wrong? Was he just holding him here until his owner arrived? How else would he know?

“Remus! What did you do?!” He whipped his head as a new person appeared in the doorway, growl dying on his throat as he saw the new stranger. Dark violet eyes, pitch black hair, dark shadows around his eyes, pale and lanky.

A Night Sylph. A spirit of air, tied to darkness, helping to bring the night and protecting the creatures of it. He himself may not be a creature of air, but a Sylph wouldn’t allow anything to harm a mythical, not if they hadn’t acted against his creatures first.

“I apologize. I did not realize your friend was a Sylph. Not many humans could identify a Selkie, much less one without their coat. I was afraid…” He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say the words aloud, his shoulders slumping and hands relaxing, as he felt the Sylph’s concerned eyes on him, gaze softening.

“it was stolen.” The sylph said softly, not a question, but he nodded anyways, unable to speak past the lump in his throat, eyes watering again. “how long?” He took a shaking breath.

“36 hours and counting. My pod is already moving on. I give myself another 12 to 18 hours, before I have no choice but to go to Him.” He whispered, the sorrow washing through him nearly drowning him.

“That is not going to happen. We are not going to let that happen.” His eyes shot up, the Sylph’s voice fiery, his eyes glowing with his determination and fierceness. The human nodded, hand slipping into the Sylph’s, eyes just as hard and cold.

“We’re gonna find that coat. We’re gonna find that little bitch, and I’m gonna beat the shit out of him, for even daring to lay a hand on it.” His mouth was agape, looking between the two, confused, but feeling a small bubble of hope start to build in his chest.

“why?” his voice is so small, but he doesn’t have it in him to be any louder.

“Because it’s wrong! It’s slavery, and it’s hurting you, and it’s cruel.” The human replies, and the Sylph smiled at him softly.

“I’m Virgil. This idiot is Remus.” Virgil said, bumping Remus’s shoulder lightly, Remus rolling his eyes.

“Logan. You can call me Logan.” Virgil nodded, carefully coming just a bit closer as he looked over Logan.

“Why don’t we sit down, and you can tell us what you remember. That’ll give us somewhere to start.” He nodded, sinking into an armchair, knees once again pulled to his chest.

“Do you want anything to drink? Or eat?” Remus asked. He shook his head, and Remus sat on the edge of the couch, Virgil perching on the arm of it. Eating anything now would just make him sick, his stomach was so tied in knots he could barely breathe properly.

“I… it’s blurry. I was in town. I was in… in a park. I like to look at the plants, at the trees. I had my coat with me, obviously, I can’t go anywhere without it. It was wrapped around my shoulders, like a shawl. Then… then suddenly it wasn’t. Someone grabbed it, from behind me. I was stunned, I tried to chase, I only got a look from behind. Light hair… tall, I… he looked at me. Eyes, mismatched eyes. He didn’t try and take me, he knew he didn’t need to. Knew I would be forced to come to him, now that I’m stuck on land.” He shivered, remembering the glint in the man’s eyes, the smug smile on his face.

“What happens? If you go back to the water without your coat?”

“Remus!” Virgil hissed, but a wry smile crossed his face.

“I… die. I dissolve, into the ocean, into the waves, into nothing. As if I never existed. Not… not the worst option, truly. At least then I’d be home.”

“no. Logan, that is not going to happen. You won’t have to make that decision.” He flinched at the hand on his shoulder, looking up at Remus’s soft, kind eyes.

“We’re gonna find him, Lo. I promise.” He simply nodded. He knew the probability of them retrieving his coat in time was low, but he was willing to let them try. He didn’t have any other choice.

“I can tell it hasn’t left town. That’s all I know.” Virgil hummed in thought.

“Well, you got a fair description of him, not that many people have heterochromia. And we know he knew what you were, so it’s someone with knowledge of mythicals. Probably a collector, or someone who works for them. That narrows it down quite a bit. I’ll go scope things out, find a likely area. You’ll be able to feel it, if it’s close, yeah?” Virgil asked, and he nodded once more. “cool. Remus, stay with him. I’ll be back soon.”

“What should I do?” Logan asked, and Virgil softened further.

“Try and get some more rest. You’re still exhausted, and it’s only going to get worse the longer you’re away from the water. Build up strength now, while you can.” He didn’t think he’d be getting much rest, not with the fear and anxiety filling his every pore, but he acquiesced anyway.

“Are you cold?” Remus murmured, feeling his forehead. He let out a harsh laugh.

“I’m always cold, without my coat. Nothing else feels… right, or warm, everything else itches or scratches or…” He trailed off in frustration, raking his hand through his hair, surprised as Remus slid into the chair next to him, before pulling him onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him.

He was warm, stars above, Remus was warm, and he couldn’t help himself, as he melted into the touch, warmth surrounding him for the first time in what seemed like forever.

He didn’t understand, why it was so easy to surrender himself to this human, didn’t know why he felt safe, why it warmed him so deeply from the inside out, when so recently he had been irrevocably wounded by a human. He didn’t have the energy to care, though an answer niggled in the back of his brain.

Something about Remus being so passionate, barely knowing him, yet reading him as easily as a favorite book, the way he was so willing to fight for him, the way he didn’t for a moment seem to hesitate, in anything that he did.

He didn’t know him. Barely knew him for more than five minutes. But he’d somehow never felt more right.

“This better?” Remus whispered in his ear, and he let out a small hum of agreement, eyes fluttering shut as the warmth brought out the overwhelming ache for sleep in his bones.

Remus looked up in time to catch the small smile on Virgil’s face. Virgil saw him looking and shot him a thumbs up, before quietly vanishing out the door, a wisp of soft fog against the air as he shifted into his ethereal form.

…

The beach. Water lapping on the shore, sun shining warm and bright. He can hear his pod, off in the distance, can see the pups’ heads popping up through the water, splashing and playing. He calls out to them, wading into the water.

He swims towards them, but the faster and harder he swims, the thicker the water seems to get, the darker the sea becomes around him, his family vanishing into the distance. He tries to call out, but his voice is locked in his throat.

He can’t breathe. He is choking on the water, it is filling his lungs, it is dragging him down, blackness surrounding him as he sinks into the depths. He claws at the water around him, he screams, bubbles leaking from his mouth as his mind goes fuzzy.

“Come now, little pup. Stop resisting. You’ll feel so much better, once you just give in.” The voice is smooth and silky, sweet and warm as honey. He shouldn’t listen, he knows he shouldn’t listen, but he can’t quite remember why.

“That’s right, lovely. Come home-“

“Logan!”

He jolted awake, heart racing, unsure where he was, what was happening. He was pinned to the floor, wrists held down, and for a moment he thrashed, panic blinding him, before the soft tone cut through his haze, and he relaxed, head thumping back against the floor, tears forming in his eyes.

“Logan?” Virgil, from the doorway, he heard the door close. He must’ve just gotten back. Remus’s face came into view above him.

“You back with us?” He nodded, and Remus carefully released his hold on his wrists, supporting him as he helped him sit up. Instantly, Logan took stock of the scratches on Remus’s arms, the four bleeding cuts across his cheek, and he buried his head in his hands, shoulders shaking.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t…” He broke off, sighing raggedly.

“He was calling you. You couldn’t help it, Lo.” Virgil said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered again, feeling Remus wrap his arms around him.

“It’s not your fault. You scared me, more than anything. I could tell you weren’t… you. You were trying to leave, I had to grab you, and you just started clawing at me. Caught me off guard, but I’ve had worse than this, trust me.” He half laughed at that, the panic starting to settle into something a bit more tolerable.

“Did you find anything?” He asked, wiping at his eyes, looking up at Virgil, who pursed his lips.

“I think so. Rumors, an old warehouse, downtown. Strange noises, strange lights, nothing confirmed, but I did a quick flyby, I didn’t go close, Remus,” Virgil commented at Remus’s stern glance, “Just enough to get a sense, and there was a faint spell around it, to divert attention. Just enough to make it uninteresting to any humans, who don’t already know what to look for, anyway.” Logan got to his feet, a bit wobbly. The overwhelming need for the ocean was pounding in his pulse, pain in his chest, and it took a moment to steady himself against it.

“Let’s go, then. What are we waiting for?” He asked.

“Logan, pal, you’re in no shape for a raid.” He shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter. Any longer and I will not be able to resist the next call. That one was so strong, I have a few hours, at most, before I will be completely incapacitated. And you can bet you won’t be able to find it without me, he will have hidden it, somewhere, hidden it well, if he’s smart. It is now or never, as I believe your saying goes.” He sounded more sure than he felt. A slight ache was pounding at his head, and he felt slightly dizzy, a bit off kilter, but he couldn’t let that stop him. This was their best chance, their only chance.

Virgil and Remus exchanged a glance, a silent conversation held in their eyes, but after a few moments, Remus nodded and Virgil sighed. Logan was right, and they both knew it.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

…

His pulse raced as he stared at the unassuming building. He could feel it, feel it, feel it. He couldn’t look away even if he wanted, eyes trained on the doors.

“Here?” Virgil asked lowly. He nodded, hands shaking with anticipation. It was close, it was so, so close.

Carefully, they snuck around the side of the building, managing to find an unlocked window. It was a tight fit for Remus, but Logan was slender enough he slid through easily, and Virgil simply flowed inside in his noncorporeal form.

They landed with soft thumps inside the darkened warehouse, and instantly, they froze at a soft, bell like sound.

“Kiddos, what are you doing here? Run!” A small, musical voice hissed at them. They turned their heads, surprised to see a small birdcage sitting by the window, a tiny, winged figure clutching at the bars, giving off a soft blue glow. Virgil’s eyes widened, and he was instantly examining the cage, biting his lip as he assessed the lock.

“Don’t worry, Spriggan. I’ll have you out in a jiffy.” Virgil murmured, eyes deepening in their violet glow, as air swirled around the lock. His gaze intensified, the air around him almost buzzing. Then the lock popped open.

The sprite gasped softly as Virgil opened the cage door, fluttering to the edge, almost hesitant to step outside.

“It’s ok. I promise.” Virgil whispered, and the sprite fluttered out, a quiet, disbelieving laugh ringing out as he flew a few laps around Virgil’s head, before settling on his nose and hugging his forehead as far as his tiny arms could reach.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Sylva. But you have to go! You have to leave, now, before he-“

“Finds you? Please, Patton, I knew they were here from the moment they stepped inside.” Instantly, the sprite was gone, buzzing out the window as fast as his wings would carry him, leaving the three to spin around and face the darkness alone.

Logan gasped, icy fear plunging into his heart as he met those gold and brown eyes, that arrogant smirk.

“Give it back. Now.” Virgil growled, and the figure laughed, a dangerously soft sound.

“As if you are in any position to bargain. You did just cost me my Sprite. Though I suppose a Sylph is a fair trade, an upgrade, even.” He mused. Virgil hissed, eyes flashing as he shifted incorporeal, a dark splash of smoke as he swirled up and away.

“As if you could catch me.” The stranger’s smile widened.

“Oh, you do amuse me. I think you will be a new favorite of mine. I will enjoy watching you struggle.” He snapped, and golden light flared to life around him, golden strings unspooling from his fingers, twisting and turning through the air. Virgil dodged and weaved, avoiding the threads that were spiderwebbing through the rafters, slowly closing in on him.

Remus growled, and charged at the man, who lithely stepped out of the way, as he stumbled past him. He felt something coil around him, sending him falling, and he looked up to see a huge, hissing golden serpent wrapping tight around his body. He jolted as Virgil cried out, and he saw him falling through air, landing hard on his back on the ground, gold thread squeezing around him. Then the snake bit into his neck, and the world blurred.

“Remus!” Logan lunged towards him, halting mid step at the soft glimmer he caught in the corner of his eye, slowly turning to face the sorcerer, eyes locked on the soft fur coat held in his hands.

It shimmered, gray and black, smooth and silky, and for a moment, Logan could feel the ocean around him, could see the endless waves, could taste the salt, could feel the cool relief of water.

“There now, little pup. Isn’t that better?” He purred. Logan couldn’t breathe. His heart was frozen in his chest, he couldn’t even bring himself to blink, the want, the overwhelming need filling his soul, his very being. Slowly, despite himself, he nodded.

“Logan… no…” a voice begged weakly. Distantly, he thought he knew that voice, but his coat was all he could see, the gold and brown imprinting into his soul, and his whole being relaxed, putty in his veins.

“Now, lovely, why don’t you come with me?” Emptily, he nodded, following the sorcerer’s directions, his hand on the small of his back guiding him into a small, dark, room, and he passively sat. His mind was fuzzy, soft, barely aware. Something was wrong, something was very wrong, but the feeling flowed over his head, lost in the heady buzz filling his chest.

Dimly, he felt something cold clamping around his ankles, felt something hard clamp around his wrists. He whimpered, trying to move, but a voice shushed him.

“None of that, now, darling.” A hand caressed his cheek, tilting his chin up to meet gold and brown. They stopped his breath, they sucked him in, and he was drowning in those hypnotizing pools, slumping weakly back against the wall. “Wonderful. Oh, you are a pretty one, aren’t you?” He felt those hands turning his chin, examining him, before stepping away with a dark chuckle. Logan’s head fell back against the wall, eyes blurred and unseeing, mind empty and buzzing with soft, hazy warmth. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing, lovely. Jussst sssleeep.” His eyes fluttered shut, the man's voice echoing softly through his mind, recognizing dimly the feel of a spell weaving into him, taking him into a dark, empty oblivion. He didn’t hear the door shut, the lock turn, didn’t notice the pure black darkness of the room. He didn’t notice or feel or think anything. Not anymore.

…

Virgil was dying. Or he thought he was. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t… there wasn’t any air, he couldn’t live without air, he was air, it was his being, he needed it. He gasped in a choking breath, managing to raise his head just enough to see. He was in a large, glass cylinder. He could see a grate at the top, could feel it, it was a vacuum, he was trapped in a vacuum, he was helpless, he was defenseless, he was trapped.

Roman. He could see Roman, through the glass. He was tied to a chair, he could see the sorcerer circling him, taunting him, if he had to guess, and he tried to do anything, tried to get to his feet, but he only succeeded in falling to his hands and knees, dizzy and gasping and consciousness fading, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t leave Remus to this mess all on his own.

But it felt like a thousand pounds of rocks sitting on his chest, it felt like the weight of a mountain pressing down on him, and he weakly clawed at his throat, desperate for air, any air, as his vision flickered, dimming.

Then, suddenly, shattering glass. He wheezed in a desperate breath, kneeling on broken glass, barely getting his bearings as another lungful of air filled him with power.

He didn’t have time to wait. He shot to his feet, eyes flashing electric violet, form dissolving and coalescing into a menacing, flashing cloud of angry black, shadows growing throughout the room, darkening everything. A low growl rumbled, like thunder, and then the room was filled with crackling, sizzling lightning.

…

Roman woke tied to a chair. He groaned, a bit surprised to be waking at all. He had thought for sure that snake was going to kill him.

“Hello there, dearie. Pleasure to meet you properly.” He hissed, struggling against the rope, glaring as those eyes came into view, the man leaning casually on the arms of the chair, too close in his space.

“What do you want?” He spat, not ceasing his struggle, even as the stranger tutted, tilting the chair back on its back legs as he circled it.

“You see, I was going to kill you. Just a human, just in my way, too much care and desperation to stop chasing me, not when I have your little pets.”

“They aren’t my pets. They’re my friends.” The man just chuckled, slamming the chair back down on all four legs, causing him to bite his tongue so hard he tasted blood.

“But then I realized something. You are not the simple human you appear to be, are you?” He froze, breathe catching, before his defiant mask slid back into place.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man tutted again, grabbing his chin and forcing himself to stare into those eyes.

“Liar, liar, little changeling. Why didn’t they want you, I wonder? Stunted growth? Crippled limb? Ah,” He snapped, “Crippled magic.” Remus winced, jerking his chin out of his hold, glaring at the ground. “Bit touchy, are we?”

“Fuck off.” He looked up, and spat directly into that smug face, enjoying immensely the expression of pure shock and outrage that twisted his lips as he wiped away the bloody spit.

“Oh, you will pay for that.” Then the room exploded in lightning.

“-us! Remus!” He groaned, slowly blinking his eyes open, blinking again as a soft glow of blue buzzed across his vision.

“Virg? What… what happened?” Virgil rubbed the back of his head, shooting him a sheepish grin as he helped him sit up.

“Got a little heated. Lightning went a bit haywire. Gave you a good shock, on accident.”

“How did you get out? And I thought you left us!” Remus accused, getting dizzy as he tried to track the sprite’s nervous fluttering.

“He left to go get help. Something you should have done before charging into a trap!” Remus groaned, looking up as someone reached out their hand, helping pull him to his feet.

“Really, Patton? You had to go get him?”

“You’re lucky he did! What were you thinking, Ree?” He shrugged, meeting the identical face of Roman, his changeling counterpart, the human that had been taken in his place and grown up with everything he should have had, should have been. Which, turns out, wasn’t actually all that great, so he supposed he actually kinda owed Roman.

Still, by the time they’d met, they’d both spent more time in each other’s realms than their own. Roman was more fae than human, and Remus was more human than fae, so they decided to keep their roles, their homes they’d made for themselves. They hadn’t even known what they were, until their early teens.

“we couldn’t wait for you. He’s a Selkie, Ro, we didn’t have time.” Roman softened a bit at the distress of Remus, sighing.

“you panicked. I get that, Remus, I do. It just… scared me. Seeing Virgil like that, seeing you…” Roman trailed off, shaking his head, wry smile on his lips. Remus’s eyes widened, gaze flying through the room, skating over the sorcerer, who was now bound to an upright support beam with shimmering, nearly invisible thread. Faery thread. There were very few things that could break it, certainly nothing the sorcerer had on hand. He didn’t care.

“Logan. Where…” His eyes locked on a door, and he sprinted over to it, growling as he tried the handle, finding it locked. He didn’t wait for Virgil to pop it, instead he kicked it with all his might, sending the door slamming open.

“Remus!” Virgil hissed, appearing at his side, but he barely noticed, instead falling to his knees, Logan filling his entire vision, fury clouding his mind at the chains shackling his wrists and ankles to the floor.

“Get them off.” He hissed, unsure who he was even talking to.

“Virgil, you’ll have to do it. They’re enchanted against magical meddling.” It took Virgil longer than normal to pop the locks, the enchantment making them a bit trickier to handle, but finally, they were all removed, and Remus carefully pulled Logan onto his lap.

“Logan… wake up, please.” He gently shook Logan’s shoulder, but the Selkie remained limp and still as a corpse. His face was too pale, his breathing deep and slow. He brushed back Logan’s hair, frowning at the warmth of his forehead, realizing too his skin was dry, flaking.

“he won’t wake up. He’s sick.” He looked helplessly up at Roman and Patton, who was sitting on Roman’s shoulder, wings fluttering nervously.

“We need to find his coat. Now.” Virgil muttered. Remus stood, still cradling Logan, snarling as he entered the main room, eyes aflame as he glared at the sorcerer, who was now awake, eyes glinting with almost amusement.

“What did you do to him?” He snarled, spitting, mere inches away. The sorcerer simply smirked.

“Whatever do you mean, little changeling?” Remus growled, would have punched him, if he wasn’t holding Logan in his arms, then Virgil was at his side, carefully moving him back, getting in his line of sight.

“Logan-“ Virgil shook his head.

“I know. But we will handle it. You and Patton go take care of him.” Remus hesitated, but his shoulders slumped and he nodded.

“alright. Just kill him for me, won’t you?” a ghost of a smile flitted across Virgil’s face.

“Oh, we’ll do one better. We’ll make him wish he were dead.”

…

Roman turned to face the sorcerer, hands clasped behind him, Virgil leaning against the wall in the shadows, still shaky.

“I believe I’ve heard of you. You’re a freelancer for ‘collectors’.” He spat the word, ash in his mouth. “Deceit, I believe you go by.” The sorcerer’s smirk didn’t drop, but something wary shifted in his eyes. “Usually you’re more careful than this, to my knowledge you’ve never been caught in the act, before tonight.” That seemed to hit a nerve, Deceit’s eyes narrowed.

“How many creatures have you ‘caught’? Torn away from their homes and condemned to torture and captivity and slavery? They have homes, they have families, they’re people!” Virgil spoke up, eyes electric, each word crackling.

“It you protected them better I wouldn’t be able to catch them.” Virgil recoiled, then surged forwards, flying around Deceit’s head so fast all the oxygen was sucked out of the air.

He finally pulled back, coalescing next to Roman, satisfaction rushing through him as the sorcerer coughed, wheezing in breaths.

“Where is his coat?” Virgil demanded, meeting Deceit’s glare with his own.

“Why don’t you ask your little selkie, hmm? Poor thing can’t find it? Oh, that’s right,” he snapped, “you can’t. And nothing you do will change that.” Roman’s eyes flashed, and the string tightened, causing Deceit to hiss in pain as the sharp strands cut through his skin. “You don’t even know what you have, do you? For all your self importance, you really are an idiot. Nothing in the world will make me give up that coat.” The strings dug in deeper, beads of red leaking through the torn fabric of his clothes, slicing through flesh like butter.

“Explain.” Virgil hissed. Deceit rolled his eyes, not saying a word.

“Fine. Hard way then. Virgil, tear this place apart. I’ll tear his mind apart. If there’s one good thing about being raised by seers, it’s this.” Before Deceit could move, Roman had pressed his hands to each of Deceit’s temples, mind foccused on one thought only. “See.”

…

“Well?” Remus asked, looking down at Patton, who was kneeling on Logan’s forehead, hands glowing softly. The sprite slumped back on his knees, exhausted.

“I can tell it’s a spell, some kind of sleep spell. It’s strong, too, nothing I can crack, but nothing that explains why he’s sick like this. Selkies don’t get sick like this, no matter how far from the water they are. I don’t know, I’m sorry.” Carefully, he scooped Patton up in his hand, setting him down on his shoulder.

They were sitting in the back of the van, Logan laid out across the backseat, his head resting in Remus’s lap as he nervously ran his hands through Logan’s hair. He didn’t understand, Logan had been relatively fine just a few hours ago, now he was burning up under his hands.

His eyes shot up at the sound of the door opening, gaze flickering between Roman’s sympathetic brown eyes and Virgil’s thin lipped stare.

“did you get it? Please, please, tell me you got it.” Roman wordlessly handed him a soft, silky seal pelt. Remus nearly sobbed in relief, wrapping it around Logan like a blanket, stroking his cheek.

“wake up, wake up, wake up.” He whispered, almost a prayer, searching Logan’s face for any sign of movement.

“remus. He’s a direct descendant of Sedna. That’s why he’s ill. He literally cannot survive on land. He’s… he’s dying.”

“Then let’s go! What are we waiting for?” He demanded. Roman and Virgil exchanged a look, one that he didn’t miss, sadness and something soft in their eyes.

“We’re too far from the ocean. We won’t get there in time.” A sob clawed its way out of Remus’s throat, and he shook his head.

“NO! No, we promised him we’d get him home, we promised him! So get in the car and FUCKING DRIVE!” He screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Remus-“

“Just do it. Please. We still have a chance, there’s still a chance.” He pleaded.

“Even if we get him back, we have no way to break the spell. He won’t survive.” Remus glared up at Virgil through watery eyes.

“We’re not going to just do nothing! Now get in and drive or I’ll do it myself.” Remus hissed. Virgil and Roman exchanged another glance, and Patton patted his neck in sympathy, but they complied without another word.

…

Logan was shaking. Chills wracked his body, and he was heaving in raspy, unsteady breaths. Sweat covered his hair, sticking to his forehead, and his face was paling even further, as the life drained out of him one breath at a time.

“Come on, Lo. Just hold on, just hold on for me.” He murmured, trying to keep his own voice steady and reassuring, trying to keep his own panic from swallowing him whole.

“We’re here.” Virgil breathed out, the car jolting to a stop, Roman not having bothered with the parking lot, pulling directly onto the sand, as far as he could. Instantly, Remus bolted to his feet, oh so gently lifting Logan into his arms, bolting for the water, tucking his coat tightly around him.

His shaking had stopped. As Remus ran, he realized Logan’s shaking had stopped, he couldn’t feel him breathing anymore, he couldn’t feel his heartbeat. They were nearly there, nearly to the water, he couldn’t die now, they were so close, surely he was still holding on.

He gasped at the shock of cold water, not stopping until he was up to his knees, Logan floating in the water before him, his arms holding him so his head was above the surface.

“Logan… come on, please, Logan, please, wake up, wake up, you stupid seal!” He shouted, tears streaming down his face at Logan’s lifeless form, limp and still, head lolling with the waves.

“Remus… he’s gone…” Patton, he had darted out to Remus had settled on his shoulder once more, looking back to Virgil and Roman, who were waiting on the shore. Another sob tore from his throat, and he shook his head, pulling Logan close, burying his face in the selkie’s soft hair.

“no. nononono we got him home! He can’t… he can’t… he can’t just steal my heart and then die before I can tell him, he can’t just leave, he can’t!” Remus sobbed, shoulders shaking, wishing for all the world Logan would open his eyes. He would give anything, for Logan to open his eyes.

“would you, child of fae, human in nature? Your kind are cruel, cold. What would you truly give, to bring him back?” He didn’t look up at the softly accented woman’s voice. He knew, some part of him knew.

Sedna. Goddess of the sea, mother of all of its creatures, guardian and vengeful spirit of the ocean and all of its depths. Logan’s biological mother.

“anything. I would give anything.” He whispered, meeting her deep, infinite dark eyes, that sparkled with all the mystery of the darkest deepest depths. He saw his own sorrow reflected ten fold there, though her gaze hardened as he met her unfathamoble eyes.

“Choose your words carefully, mortal fae.” His breath caught. He’d spent enough time around Roman, around other mythicals, to know that tone, that careful wording.

“What do I have to do? What do you need from me?” He asked, and the goddess actually hesitated, almost taken aback by his intensity. She held out her arms, and relunctantly, he let her take him.

“oh, my heart, my soul, my babe. What have they done to you?” She murmured softly, kissing Logan’s forehead. “but even still…” she gathered herself, looking up at Remus, something softer in her eyes now, a desperate sort of hope. “A life. Willingly given, willingly gifted. Only then can you hope to find him.” Remus let out a low chuckle, though it lacked any mirth.

“You had me worried there. For a second I thought it might be hard.” He met her eyes, once more, drowning in them, a soft smile tinging his lips. “My life, huh? It’s not much of one, I’m afraid, but you can have it. Willingly and no regrets. Not… not if it gives us a chance.” Sedna nodded once. He didn’t have time to even hold his breath, before he was pulled beneath the waves.

“NO!” Virgil screamed, as Remus was pulled under, in an instant swirling out to Sedna, his form blurred as he hovered above the waves.

“This is not of your business, Sylph.” She stated, not looking away from Logan, and Virgil hissed.

“Like hell, it isn’t.” She looked up at that, eyes sharp but sympathetic.

“It was his choice to make. If his love is pure, they will both come back to us. Have some faith.”

“If it isn’t two innocent lives were lost today.” He growled,

“Innocent lives are lost every second, Sylph. At least this has the chance of righting a wrong.”

…

He is sinking. He can just barely see a faint halo of light, but it is far, far, far above, and fading fast.

Where is he?

He tries to remember, tries to wrack his brain, for what this dark, endlessly sinking abyss could be, but the farther from the light, the blurrier it all gets.

There’s something important, he should be doing. Yes, there was something urgent, something he was looking for, but it is hazy now, and he doesn’t know what it is or was.

He doesn’t know who he is.

That should be worrying, but it isn’t. Not here. Here, it feels inconsequential. Everything seems small and meaningless, and he thinks he would be perfectly content to drift down and down and down in this darkness for eternity, thinking of everything and nothing, letting the darkness swallow him until what’s left of his awareness fades.

But something pulls at him. Something forces him to open his eyes, to take a deep breath, something he’s surprised to find he can do underwater. Or, he thinks he’s underwater. For the first time, he looks around.

He’s surprised to see shapes, in the darkness. Some have outlines of color, just faintly flickering, some are gray, and fade in front of his eyes, but all are drifting listlessly, down and down, and somehow he knows that the deeper they go, the more they fade, until nothing is left.

That sends a jolt of panic through him.

Logan. He has to find Logan.

He doesn’t know quite who that is, but the name lights something inside him, and though it takes all the will in his body, he forces his limbs to move. He forces himself to swim downwards, searching, searching, searching-

There! A faint flicker, a faint something, that tugs him closer. It was so dark, he could barely see where he was going, but he didn’t let up for a moment, not when his lungs began to burn, not when he felt his limbs start to go numb, not when he could see the outline of himself flickering in and out, his mind going hazy.

He pushed forwards, and suddenly he was there, grabbing onto the ethereal form of Logan, pulling him close, and without thinking, he pressed their lips together, exhaling all of his air into Logan’s lungs, breathing all of his own life into Logan, his eyes slipping closed as Logan’s dark ones flew open, his surprised gasp inhaling the last of Remus’s air, and the world blurred, his outline fading quickly to gray, and his last thought was the hope that Logan would live enough life for the both of them.

…

Remus gasped, coughing, heaving in huge breath after huge breath, vision blurred from tears, every part of him sore and aching as he choked on the air.

“Remus.” His eyes jerked up, and he met deep browns, that perfect, beautiful face, and Logan reached out, cupping his cheek, wiping away the tears slipping down his face, as he let out a small, desperately happy laugh. Then he leaned forwards, crushing their lips together, feeling Logan melt into his touch, hands tangling in his hair, and even after their lips parted, Remus didn’t let go, nuzzling against Logan’s hair, silent tears still falling.

“how… what…” he whispered, unable to form the words he was looking for. How was he alive, how was he here, how was Logan here, how had he lived, when he’d given his entire soul to breathe life back into Logan.

“You love me.” Was the somewhat awed, somewhat small answer from Logan, and he pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, a smile dancing across his lips.

“yes. I love you, Logan.” He replied, somehow melting even more at the soft, adoring gaze Logan was bestowing upon him, his lips quirked at the corners in a small smile.

“You were willing to give your life for mine. Even if you couldn’t live to live with me, even though I would gain everything and you would lose all, you would still have given it freely. That intent, was enough. It was a test, of sorts. And you passed, Remus.” Logan intertwined their fingers, and Remus couldn’t help it anymore as a desperate, relieved sob shook his frame as he fell into Logan’s arms, crying into his shoulder.

“you still have to go. You still have to leave, go back to the water. I’m still losing you.” He choked out, feeling Logan brushing his thumb over his knuckles. He heard Logan chuckle softly.

“Not quite. You still gave me part of yourself, part of your soul. And you now hold some of mine. We’re tied together now, Remus. Anywhere you step I can also. Anywhere I pass through so will you be able.”

“but… you won’t get sick? You won’t… I won’t keep you, I won’t make you stay, you don’t have to stay.” Just the thought of forcing Logan to stay made him ill.

“I know, Remus. I know you wouldn’t. I know you would never take my coat, I know you would never force me to do anything, I trust you. It won’t make me sick. We can spend time, between land and sea, there’s so much I can show you, Remus, worlds you wouldn’t even be able to imagine.”

They both looked up at the sound of hesitant footsteps. Roman was approaching, having kept his distance and given them space on the shore, where Logan had pulled Remus, just out of the surf. Virgil was still speaking to Sedna, form flickering with displeasure and anger, while she was nothing but calm and placid, the soft glow of Patton clear on his shoulder.

“Remus. If you ever do something like that again I will strangle you with my bare hands.” Roman muttered furiously, eliciting a high laugh, Remus soft as he met Roman’s eyes for a moment, understanding passing between them without a word needing to be spoken. “And Logan… take care of him. He’s a lot softer than he’d like you to believe.” Remus huffed in indignation, melting with a happy hum as Logan pressed a kiss to his cheek, causing the selkie to shake his head in amusement.

“I will. I promise.” With that Roman nodded, walking several yards down the beach before simply vanishing.

“He’s such a drama queen.” Logan chuckled.

“Nothing at all like you, I’m sure.” Remus snorted, tilting his head back, to look up at Logan, his Logan, His.

“We should get you indoors. You’re sopping wet, and it’s cold.” Remus nuzzled closer to Logan, gently butting his chin with his head.

“Good thing I’ve got you, then, keeping me warm.” And before Logan could argue, he had captured the selkie’s lips once more, lost in a different, amazingly beautiful kind of warmth.

#sanders sides #sympathetic remus #remus sanders #human remus #logan sanders #selkie logan #logan angst #remus angst #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #unsympathetic deceit #temporary character death #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #logan x remus

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joyful-soul-collector · 4 years

Text

Misser Star’

By @joyful-soul-collector for @wh0doyouthinkyouareiam!

For the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

Rating: General Audiences

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Helen Cho

Summary:

“Woah there Sea Legs,” Tony said, catching him under the arms and setting him up straight. “Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” “The sea is in my legs,” Peter said, clinging tight to Tony’s arm as he wobbled slightly. “What if my legs… were in the sea?” “Oh wow--this is going to be fun.”

Peter gets his wisdom teeth taken out, and is a very silly lad

Story is under the cut, or you can read it on AO3!

Irondad Tag List: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @canonismybitch @freckledmountain @not-your-housekeeper98 @misskirkstark @iron-loyalty

Lemme know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!

“Misser Star’, there’s clouds i’ m’ mouth,” Peter mumbled around the cotton, staring at Tony with wide eyes. Tony laughed and pulled Peter’s hand away from his mouth, as he was trying to touch the “clouds”.

“Don’t mess with those, you need them to stop the bleeding,” Tony said with a small laugh.

“I’m bleeding!?” Peter said incredulously. Then he suddenly gasped and grabbed Tony’s arm, a panicked look on his face. “Do they know!?”

“Know what kid?” Peter looked around dramatically then yanked Tony’s arm closer so he could whisper in his ear.

“That I’m a spider,” he said. Tony snorted and gently worked his arm out of Peter’s death-grip.

“You’re good, kid. You’re at the compound, Helen was the one who operated on you. You remember Helen?”

“Karen?”

“No, Helen--”

“She’s my suit lady, she’s nice. But she can’t do tooth stuff Misser Star’--”

“No, kid, Helen was the one who did the work on your teeth, she’s a doctor--”

“I know who Helen is,” Peter said, as if Tony had told him this information several times before. Tony rolled his eyes and ruffled Peter’s hair, only to laugh when Peter raised his head and leaned into his touch, eyes slipping closed with bliss. He was like a little kitten, leaning into someone scratching behind its ear.

In fact he leaned so far he almost fell over, and Tony had to catch him by the shoulder, snorting at the panicked look on Peter’s face.

“Jesus, Dr. Cho gave you the Good Stuff didn’t she?”

“Had to, it was the only thing his metabolism wouldn’t immediately burn through,” Helen said, making Tony jump. “You two are alright to leave now, just make sure Peter doesn’t take that cotton out too early and give him some ice when the medicine wears off.”

“Thanks Doc,” Tony said. Peter made a noise of confusion and pointed at Helen.

“She’s not Doc Ock, Misser Star’! He has way more arms, and she’s way prettier,” Peter said. “I think you need new glasses.”

“I don’t even need glasses in the first place, kiddo,” Tony said with a snort, signing a couple papers Helen handed him.

“Oh yeah!? Then what are those!?” Peter said, pointing directly at the square sunglasses perched on Tony’s nose. Tony raised his eyebrows at him, the determined look on Peter’s face making it hard not to laugh.

“Sunglasses, not normal glasses,” Tony said, then he held out his arm. “Here lemme walk you back to the living quarters, I’m fairly certain you’re not gonna make it there yourself.”

“Why does the sun even need glasses?” Peter muttered as he pushed himself off the hospital bed, and almost immediately toppling over.

“Woah there Sea Legs,” Tony said, catching him under the arms and setting him up straight. “Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.”

“The sea is in my legs,” Peter said, clinging tight to Tony’s arm as he wobbled slightly. “What if my legs… were in the sea?”

“Oh wow--this is going to be fun,” Tony said, steadying Peter as he stumbled down the hallway to the elevator.

Peter babbled on and on about random stuff on their way to the living quarters, Tony having to physically restrain him from pressing all the buttons in the elevator, and had to answer his questions about extremely odd yet mundane things like “why is the ceiling in the sky?” only for him to forget what he asked entirely.

When they finally arrived, Tony walked him to the couch and sat him down, and Peter immediately curled himself into a ball, knees tucked under his chin.

“Alright kid, you wait here while I call your Aunt and let her know everything went good, alright?” Tony said.

“Wait here,” Peter repeated, with a determined nod. “Waiting waiting waiting. Like a rock.”

At this point Tony had absolutely no clue what Peter was talking about so he just said “Sure, kiddo”, and ruffled his hair before he stepped away for a few minutes.

“Hey, Tony,” May said when she answered. “How’s he doin’?”

“He’s alright, pretty damn loopy but fine,” Tony said, leaning against the wall of the hallway. “I’m glad you came to me about this, I was right, a normal anaesthetic wouldn’t have stood a chance against his enhanced metabolism.”

May chuckled and Tony could hear the bustle of the hospital in the background.

“I don’t know what we’d do without you Tony,” she said. “Thank you so much--Oh, shoot, I gotta go--”

“No problem, May, I’ll take care of him till you get off work. Just call me when you’re done, I’ll drive him over,” Tony said. May thanked him at least ten times before hanging up, and Tony chuckled to himself, slipping the phone in his pocket.

“Misser Staaaaaaar’?” Peter’s voice said from around the corner. It had a rather guilty tone to it, and Tony quickly rounded the corner to see him.

Peter seemed to have tried to grab a blanket, and in the process, had gotten himself rather tangled in it, now lying horizontally on the couch and staring up at Tony with a wide-eyed expression.

“Got tangled in your own web, huh Spiderling?” Tony said, smiling down at him. “Probably for your own good anyway. Might just leave you like that so you don’t get yourself in more trouble.”

Peter frowned indignantly at him, and suddenly started trying to wiggle himself into an upright position, since clearly Tony was just gonna leave him to die like this. Tony rolled his eyes and helped him sit up, but as soon as he tried to get him untangled, Peter leaned away, looking confused.

“What?” Tony said.

“I’m a burrito Misser Star’,” Peter mumbled, snuggling himself further into the blanket. “Spider-Burrito. Or Spider-Sushi. Or Spider-Ravioli. Or--”

“Spiders In A Blanket?” Tony suggested, and Peter’s eyes got wide.

“Oh my god--I’m a spider, and I’m in a blanket!” Peter whisper-screamed. Then he burst into laughter, throwing his head back against the soft cushions of the couch so fast Tony thought he might give himself whiplash.

“Jesus--Just you existing scares me kiddo,” Tony muttered, deciding tv would probably be the best distraction. Just as long as it isn’t a comedy. Kid might break his neck, Tony thought. It’s a good thing Luke Skywalker isn’t played by Jim Carrey.

Peter stopped laughing immediately as the Star Wars theme began to play, though his loud, comical gasp proved it wasn’t just the medicine wearing off.

“I LOVE STAR WARS!” Peter shouted, making Tony jump.

“Jesus christ--I know ya dork,” Tony said, watching Peter bounce excitedly in his seat on the couch for a moment before sitting next to him. Peter flumped into Tony’s side, giving a deep, dramatic sigh of contentment. Tony couldn’t help but give him a little one-armed squeeze; he knew how much Peter loved hugs.

Though he couldn’t expect Peter to be silent for more than a few minutes, now could he?

“Hey Misser Star’?” Peter said.

“Hey Misser Parker?” Tony said, imitating Peter’s tone and voice.

“What if I was hungry?” he said, either ignoring or completely oblivious to Tony’s teasing.

“Um, I would get you something to eat? I think there’s some soup I could warm up for you,” Tony said, looking down at Peter with raised eyebrows. Peter looked skeptical at the idea of soup however.

“Mmm, but what if I’m only hungry for something cold?” he said.

“Uh… you want a smoothie?”

“Something sweet and cold.”

“Smoothies can be sweet.”

“Something chocolate and sweet and cold,” Peter said impatiently. Tony rolled his eyes and looked down at Peter, who put on a very mischievous grin. He sighed in defeat. He just couldn’t say no to that silly face.

“Your Aunt’s gonna kill me when she finds out,” Tony said, getting up with a groan.

“No she won’t! I’ll protect you! I’m Spider-Man!” Peter said, trying to take his hands out of his cocoon/burrito, but only succeeding in tangling himself more. Tony snorted, dragging a tub of chocolate ice cream out of the freezer and scooping some out into a couple bowls. By the time he came back Peter had freed his arms and was rubbing his hands over the fluffy blanket, muttering to himself. Tony helped him take the gauze out of his mouth, which had a surprisingly small amount of blood on it, as it seems his enhanced healing had taken care of it.

Peter ate his ice cream happily, eyes closing with bliss.

“Ice cream is my best friend,” Peter said around his spoon. “‘Cept for Ned. And MJ. They’re better than ice cream, but ice cream is like… real good friendo. Ten outta ten, would go to the movies with ice cream.”

“Ha, me too kid,” Tony said, scraping the last remnants out before setting aside his bowl to focus better on the movie. He never cared much for Star Wars, but he couldn’t deny that the fight scenes were pretty awesome. Peter eventually nudged him with his bowl to say he was finished, and then went back to his original position against Tony’s side.

It wasn’t until the movie was over that Tony realized Peter had fallen asleep like that, curled up tightly in the blanket, his face pressed into Tony’s chest. Tony ran his fingers through Peter’s hair for a moment, smiling as Peter relaxed even further against him.

“You caught all that, right Fri?” Tony said, glancing up at the ceiling.

“Of course Boss,” Friday replied. “Shall I send you the file for you to view later?”

“That’d be perfect. If there’s anything that’ll be more hilarious than Peter getting stuck in a blanket, it’ll be how red his face gets when he sees himself getting stuck in a blanket.”

Peter didn’t even wake up as Tony lifted him off the couch and down the hall to his room. He whined a little when Tony laid him on his bed, but was quickly consoled by Tony’s fingers running through his hair again.

“Goodnight ‘Spider-Burrito.’”

#irondad #irondad fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #marvel #spider-man #Iron Man #the friendly neighborhood exchange #Marko's Fanfiction

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themonotonysyndrome · 4 years

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The Holy Quintet in Twisted Wonderland! (all 7 dorms - Part 3)

This is Sayaka’s reaction to the other dorms! Apologies for the delay. RL and work are starting to get real hectic again. Also, a big shoutout to @lionheartanotheraccount for brainstorming with me over at Discord and help me out a lot at fleshing this crossover. If any of you guys want to just talk and have fun about this crossover series, I’m more than happy to talk over at Discord!

Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed Sayaka’s reaction!

Miki Sayaka & the other dorms (except Heartslabyul)

SAVANACLAW!

Sometimes when the gang needed to lay-low from Riddle’s anger, Sayaka, Ace and Deuce would hang out at the Savanaclaw dorm until curfew. Or until Cater and Trey come to pick them if they’re too loud and rowdy that Leona had to call the Heartslabyul seniors to deal with them.

Kyouko lets them chill in her room only if each of them bring a tribute (food or drinks) for her and then the four of them would spend hours playing and goofing off.

Jack would join them after his workouts or if he doesn’t have to help Ruggie attend Leona. The wolf boy helps restrain the four of them from doing anything too stupid or crazy most of the time (and if he can’t, he’ll begrudgingly help hide the evidences).

Sayaka’s personal favourite place to hang out at the Savanaclaw dorm is their lounge because of the small waterfall and pool of water, with some greeneries and tall cool shades scattered around. Perfect to laze about after a hard day of classes.

At first, the Savanaclaw students that often hang around the lounge felt restless at having an interloper intruding their territory. It’s only after Sayaka learn to be respectful and know her place as an outsider that they were comfortable with her. It helps that the boys of Savanaclaw dorm know just how close the Heartslabyul Knight is to their Savanaclaw Brawler.

Sayaka is just tomboyish enough that she reminds Jack of his littlest sister. Small yet always hard-working and spunky. Always trying her best, whether in classes or her magical training. Jack admires her for that.

Ruggie knows that nothing but shenanigans await him whenever he sees Sayaka bring Ace and Deuce to Kyouko. He finds her knight-like personalities amusing as more often than not, she seems to attract trouble. But after seeing her swordmanship and how she uses the water around her to fight, Ruggie suppose she’s often get out of trouble easily as she got into them. He could only hope that she won’t join Kyouko in trashing their stadium. Kyouko alone does tons of damage during her fits of anger.

Loud and noisy herbivore. That’s what Leona think of Sayaka. Sure she’s cute and all and could hold her ground against Kyouko (and probably a few of the Savanaclaw students to boot) in a fight, but the moment she starts sprouting her reason for fighting (to fight for the weak, for justice and etc), Leona just tunes her out.

When he laid it to her of the old and true principle of the wild - how the strong would always devour the weak - Sayaka’s reaction took him by surprise. He thought that the girl would bristle, argued back, but she was genuinely stunned before smiling fondly.

“Ne, I thought you were kinda of a jerk, Kingscholar-senpai. Always bully Bucchi-senpai, making him run after you. But you know what? I think I want to get to know you a lot more! So let’s hang out, Kingscholar-senpai!”

That... that did not go what Leona thought their conversation would.

From that day onwards, Sayaka would ‘annoyed’ Leona whenever she sees him. Calling and waving at him from across the courtyard, sitting beside him in the greenhouse when he’s trying to nap and etc. The best part is, no matter how hard Leona tries to chase her away, she would run with a stupid and happy grin on her face and come back the next day. Ruggie snickers but there was nothing that they could do about it.

In the end, Leona just lets her do whatever she wants. Just don’t bother him while he’s napping.

(Oh Leona, Kyouko sprout the same bullshit to Sayaka when they first met. And look where they are now! So be prepared to be tackled by a rumbustious Sayaka from now).

(Now Sayaka and Cheka will do their best to smother our poor lion boi with hugs. Leona does not appreciate this).

OCTAVINELLE!

The students that captivated Sayaka the most at NRC are actually those from Octavinelle. Her eyes shine in awe and delight when she saw a group of mermen for the first time ever during Swim practise.

(At this point, each girls already joined a club and for some reason that she couldn’t explain, Sayaka was drawn to the Swimming Club. That’s where she meet many Octavinelle students).

The way how they transform from human to their true form as soon as they hit the pool took her breath away. Their beautiful tails mesmerised her as they swim laps around the large pool.

(Homura looks constipated whenever Sayaka gushes about mermaids and etc, but Sayaka knows better than to ask what’s her deal is. She knows that the other girl would just shut her mouth if she asked anyway).

Despite her Heartslabyul seniors warned her about the Dorm Leader and Vice Dorm Leader of Octavinelle (and a wild twin brother), Sayaka really wanted to see the inside of Octavinelle. She heard that their dorm is actually underwater!

She tried befriending some Octavinelle students, but with Ace and Deuce constantly at her sides, they tend to make a fuss or push them away; so what if the Octavinelle students can breathe underwater. They’re a lot cooler!

(Yes, these dumbasses would be jealous that Sayaka would want to befriend other boys not from their circle of first-year friends).

Her club members find her fascination with them adorable. She’s earnest with her questions, eager to learn about their cultures and the feelings would soon turn mutual.

At first, when Sayaka proved to not only them and herself that she could easily keep up with them underwater even when they’re in their true form, the Octavinelle students were surprised.

Slowly, Sayaka and the rest of the club members discover that she can also breathe underwater without the use of a potion when they were going through multiple laps in the pool! The guys were very eager to help her discover what else she could she do that involves water. Nessless to day that Sayaka is having a lot of fun in her club.

As her club members help her discover the extent of what her magic could do, rumours began to circulating around NRC that one of the girls is actually a mermaid. Heck, she could even fight using her swords underwater without a problem! The rumours soon reach the mermafia.

It was easy to figured out which girl that everyone is talking about since only one of them are in the Swimming Club.

Azul wanted to know if Sayaka’s Unique Magic involves the sea and water and if she could actually transform into a mermaid without using a potion. Perhaps that’s her Unique Magic. So he sends out the Leech Twins to befriend her.

Jade and Floyd approach her in the cafeteria while she was having lunch with Ace and Deuce. The two boys were immediately on guard when they sat down and boxed Sayaka between them. Jade broke the ice by telling her that they’re merfolks and heard her interest in learning more about life under the sea and the cultures of merfolks; he’s happy to teach her all he knows. Floyd sweeten his twin brother’s offer by inviting her to the Coral Sea so they could show her around. Sayaka didn’t hesitate to accept their offer, despite Ace and Deuce strongly tells her not to.

One day after they made the offer, the Leech Twins invite Sayaka to their dorm lounge where the three of them talk for hours (Sayaka it at awe over the decor of the dorm). Eventually, Azul join in on the conversation. Don’t worry, Ace and Deuce are there with her. Honestly, they grow bored of the conversation after 15 minutes, but they remain and did not interrrupt because Sayaka was having fun learning about the merfolks.

When they exhaust the conversation, Azul explains with a welcoming smile that now they indulge in her curiosity and questions, would Sayaka please do the same for them? It’s fair, after all.

It is only fair, Sayaka thinks. The guys have been very patience with her inquiries and Jade even made sure to always supply them with snacks and drinks throughout their conversation, so sure! Ask away!

They let Floyd ask first: this boy wanted to know if he and Sayaka can have a swimming race. Winner can squeeze the loser as long as they want. Thinking that squeeze = friendly hugs, Sayaka easily agreed.

The mermafia started off by asking easy questions first; what is her world like? Doesn’t it have creatures other than humans? Then they will start asking her about her life as a Magical Girl: How did she become a Magical Girl? Oh, she made a wish and for it to be granted, she needed to be a Magical Girl and fight Witches? That sounds interesting! Do tell them more.

It’s Ace who actually felt uncomfortable with Sayaka telling the mermafia about her magic and stuff. So while the mermafia and her are busy talking, Ace texted Kyouko. He told her where they are right now and what they were doing.

Sayaka was just about to explain what she knows about Soul Gems (and thank goodness that it isn’t a lot), when Kyouko suddenly calls her. She put her phone on mute and was about to continue with the conversation, but Kyouko insist in blowing up her phone until she picks up her call.

The mermafia could do nothing but wait for Sayaka to wrap up her call. Kyouko call and ask her and Adeuce to meet up with her at Savanaclaw. Right now. It’s important.

So with a heavy heart, Sayaka informed the mermafia that they have to go now. If they linger, Kyouko would definitely come to Octavinelle dorm. Azul knows that the Savanaclaw Brawler must’ve caught wind that Sayaka is with them right now so is trying to interfere. So he has to begrudgingly let her and her friend go, but he wasn’t too upset. Since they already became friends and establish a good rapport with her, Azul is certain that he can always ask her about her magic next time. Maybe when she’s alone.

SCARABIA!

After a particularly gruelling exam, Sayaka is in need for some serious heavy-duty distraction from stressing out over her grades and results. No matter how much Madoka tried to console her, Sayaka just can’t turn her anxiety off.

So Kalim’s invitation to his upcoming party come just at the right time! Not only that, he also invited all of her friends too so she’s looking forward to having fun with everyone.

(She’s not looking forward to mingled with Homura, though. She knows that the other girl would be there since the party will be at Scarabia but she’s not going to let Homura spoil her fun).

Sayaka is just giddy with excitement until the day of the party finally arrives. When she, Ace and Deuce appear at Scarabia for the first time, it takes them some time to get used to the hot weather and wind. Her eyes widen when nearly everyone in NRC have come for the party!

Madoka came with her Diasomnia group (she made sure to personally bring Kalim’s invitation and handed it to Malleus so he’s there with them. It’s hard to tell, but Malleus is very happy to be included for once). Kyouko with Leona, Ruggie and Jack (Leona got his ass up for once since Kalim’s feasts and banquets are something you can’t ever missed out on). Mami was accompined by the Pomefiore trio (Vil wants the first-year students to practise their etiquette and dining manners during parties and Rook never passed out on the opportunity to observe the Savanaclaw and Octavinelle students in a relaxed environment while their guards are down).

Even the Heartslabyul seniors later made their appearance. Soon enough, Cater is fluttering about, taking pictures of the food and drinks, decoration, students dancing and roped many people in for his selfies. Trey is sampling desserts from the Land of Hot Sands with a thoughtful expression; probably planning to try baking new desserts later. Riddle is there at a much quitter corner, talking to Vil. Both of them are sipping on the local teas from the Land of Hot Sands.

Food and drinks laden the tables in abundance. Music blared from everywhere, studens dance to the tune and their friends cheer them on. After having her fill of delicious food and sweet juice drinks, Sayaka couldn’t help but join in on the dance floor.

Kalim later join in too and uses his Oasis Maker to shower them all. Sayaka dances and manipulate the water, unintentionally creating a water show. This excites Kalim and he dances along with her. it was a spectacular sight and everyone loved it. She and Kalim were a sight to behold! Cater is snapping pictures and recording their dance for the internet to see.

The party continues to the evening but at this point, students are slowly trickling out; thanking Kalim and Jamil for such amazing party right after the exam. Looks like not just Sayaka needed something to melt the tension away. Madoka was the first one to leave with her dorm members (they’re planning to have a picnic in the morning and Sayaka and the rest are more than welcome to join), then it’s Kyouko with her Savanaclaw members (Leona sacrifice his nap for the party so he’s in some serious neep for some long hours of dozing) and soon after, Mami also left (the Pomefiore students need to head back to start their nightly skincare routine. Vil made sure none of his dorm students is left behind).

Throughout the party, Homura did made herself known. She sticks close by to Madoka but otherwise didn’t join in on their conversation too much and let the pink-haired girl mingle around with the rest of the students. It was a surprise to Sayaka that Homura didn’t watch over Madoka lika a hawk.

When Sayaka rejoin Ace and Deuce at the dining table, she spotted Homura talking to Kalim. Kalim had a big smile on his face but when she blinks, Homura vanishes and Kalim is left looking astound but then just scratch his head, clearly surprise that he’s suddenly is left standing alone. Sayaka would not stand for it. So she decide to eat later and console the Dorm Leader.

“Hey, don’t be sad, alright Al-Asim-san? Homura can be a real jerk and leave you hanging just like that. Even after you invite her to your party, too...”

“Eh?”

Kalim is suddenly taken aback at Sayaka’s harsh words. He wasn’t expecting for Sayaka to walk up to him like that.

Sayaka was actually trying to comfort Kalim but what she didn’t realise is that she nonchalantly and absentmindedly bad mouthed Homura in the process. And this was something that displeased Kalim.

Kalim then interrupted her; a rare frown on his face. He didn’t raise his voice, but ask Sayaka to stop insulting Homura. Before Sayaka could recover from her shock, Kalim went on to tell her that Homura is actually a nice girl but is having trouble expression herself and that there’s more to her than what she shows. While Kalim is on a tirade, clearly defensive over his dorm mate, Sayaka didn’t expect for him to feel so strongly over her.

Kalim explains that Homura actually help them out a lot in the kitchen and other preparations for the party. She even uses her magic to cut the entire process short, so the other Scarabia students wouldn’t have to spend so much time getting ready. Kalim readily admitted that he doesn’t exactly know how she does it, but the fact that she help Jamil and the rest without even asked already tells him everything he needs about her and to Kalim? That’s enough. And beside, she had came up to him to be excuse before vanshing.

Jamil smoothly join them (he was lingering nearby, instructing the other Scarabia students to begin cleaning up when he saw Kalim’s frown and that set him on alert) and addressed Kalim first. There was still some leftover food in the kitchen and he needs him to decide whether they put them away in the pantry or wrapped up the food to give them to the other dorms as gifts. Kalim snap to attention, smiling once more and went off to do as Jamil told him to. His previous frown already gone.

After the Dorm Leader left, Jamil broke Sayaka out of her stupor. Quietly, he made it clear whatever beef Sayaka has with Homura is none of his business. But as a Vice Dorm Leader and as someone who knows how it feel to be judge by ignorant people just because of their Unique Magic, Jamil chatise Sayaka for being being ignorant. One that he wouldn’t tolerate if she was his friend. If Sayaka treated him like how she treats Homura, then he will make sure that Sayaka will regret it and that she should be thankful that Homura is not like him. And with that, he left the girl alone with her thoughts.

Sayaka shivers at Jamil’s threat. His words plant the seed of doubts in her. Is Homura truly more than she seems? She’s silent when Riddle called for his dorm mates to follow him back to their place and throughout the night, Sayaka found herself unable to sleep because of what just happened.

All in all, the Scarabia duo intrigued her. Kalim and Jamil relationship dynamic is an odd one (Sayaka could see the similarity to Homura and Madoka friendship and that just weirded her out) but since Kalim harbour no ill feelings towards Sayaka after the party and Sayaka made sure to apologise to him for bad mouthing his dorm mate, these two actually get along. She, Kalim and Silver are the airheaded trio, much to the exasperation of Jamil.

Jamil does not consider Sayaka a friend, but tolerates her presence whenever she’s around Kalim and Sayaka is alright with that. She doesn’t think she could ever truly get used to someone like him and Homura. However, Jamil’s words (and threat) made her see Homura in a different light from that day onwards. Their relationship is still cold but her suspicion on Homura is lessen.

Kalim thinks that Sayaka is a kind hearted and amazing girl. He really enjoys dancing with her and despite how she insulted Homura, Kalim knew that she was just thinking of him. Wanting to make him feel better. It’s just a simple misunderstanding that’s all.

POMEFIORE!

Sayaka has no idea what she had unleash when she dances with Kalim under the shower of Oasis Maker during his party.

Not only did she and Kalim gain instant popularity in the world of the internet and wowed the students that attended the party with their watershow, their dance remain in the thoughts of a particular Dorm Leader who was looking for inspirations for his next fashion show.

So a few days after the party, Vil instruct Rook to capture Sayaka and bring her to him. Rook happily comply for his Queen.

It’s a Sunday afternoon and Sayaka - along with a couple of Heartslabyul NPCs - are tasked with trimming the rose hedges in the maze. Ace and Deuce had their own chores to do for the day with feeding the colourful hedgehogs and pink flamingoes.

(Even from the rose maze, Sayaka could hear Ace and Deuce shrieking from the distance and decided that nope. Not her problem this time.)

While she was doing the finishing touches and her dorm mates are watering the greenery, Rook suddenly pop out from behind the green wall she was attending. Needless to say that his sudden appearance made her scream. Hers are louder than Ace and Deuce’s.

Rook simply smile in amusement at her reaction. While Sayaka is desperately trying to calm her frighten and racing heart, he tips his hat and introduces himself as Pomefiore’s Vice Dorm Leader and an extrodionary hunter. He also unabashedly added that he also sees himself as Mami’s older brother.

That got Sayaka’s attention real quick.

This Magical Girl wanted to know just what kind of person that Mami would look up to as her older brother. Prey now baited, Rook kept his smile and told her that if she’s curious about him - just as much as he is curious about her - why don’t she follow him to Pomefiore?

(Oh Sayaka, you need to learn not to follow handsome boys to their place without knowing their true intentions. Ace and Deuce are gonna tear their hair out in frustration because of your ignorance).

When Sayaka agreed to follow him to Pomefiore since she’s done with her chores for the day, Rook decided to be a little extra. With a beaming smile, he scoop her up in his arms and chuckles when Sayaka immediately blushes. He ignored the other Heartslabyul students shouting at him to put their Knight down and leap off towards his dorm.

Sayaka felt like she was being carried by a tornado - albeit a gentle, handsome and charming tornado - when he finally put her back onto the ground as soon as they’re inside of Pomefiore. Her blush remains when Rook asks her if she’s alright. Never before had a boy ever treated her as if she was a princess. She prays that her heart remain strong if all the boys in Pomefiore are as prince-like as Rook.

“Ah, as expected of you Rook. You’ve brought Riddle’s Knight to me in perfect condition. Good job.”

“I always strive to live up to your expectation, my Roi de Poison”

There, waiting for them at the dorm lounge is Vil and Mami. Mami smile and greeted Sayaka, but since this is the first time that Sayaka witness Vil in all his glory and dorm uniform, she could only gape at the sight of the most beautiful man that she has ever seen.

Vil was not amused at her gawking like a goldfish, though he acknowledge and praise Sayaka for knowing true beauty when she sees one. While Sayaka is trying to recover from her blunder and flustered so adorably, he ushered her and Rook to join him at the couch. Mami patted the empty space beside her and Rook handed Sayaka a tea cup and Vil began to explain why he wanted her here.

Ever since Mami shown her Magical Girl dress to him and more and more of her friends are coming over to Pomefiore, Vil has been itching to put the girls on the runway with him.

(Vil didn’t notice it, but the word ‘runway’ nearly had Sayaka choke on her tea).

Vil continue to explain to both Sayaka and Mami that he had use his connections and contacted several well-known fashion designers and is preparing for this season fashion show, fully expecting to have the girls well trained to walk on the runway with him.

Sayaka felt like dying in the inside when the Dorm Leader showed them his sketch book. He had drawn Sayaka and the rest of the girls in various style of dressess and poses. Absolute gorgeous dressess, but Sayaka had never worn something as fancy as them!

She interrupted him, stating that despite her magical girl outfit, she’s a bit of a tomboy and is rough around the edges (her fighthing style can be as brutal as Kyouko’s) so she can’t possible pull off those dresses!

Vil scoffed and told her that he would trained her and the girls on how to walk and pose like a model. By the time the fashion show arrive, Sayaka would be as graceful as Mami.

Seeing Sayaka’s distress increasing, Mami suggest to give her some time to get used to Vil’s proposal as she had never done something like this before. It’s only natural that Sayaka is apprehensive of it.

(Bless Mami for shielding Sayaka from Vil’s attention. Rook is just smiling to himself throughout the conversation).

Soon enough, the Dorm Leader and Vice Dorm Leader of Pomefiore left the girls alone as they need to attend to their duties. Sayaka thanked Mami for covering her. Despite how Vil appear to be completely otherworldly at their first meeting, Mami explain to Sayaka that although Vil can be quite harsh on them, all he wants is his dorm mates to be the best that they can be. Sayaka find that she couldn’t fault that kind of wish.

However, when Epel barged into the dorm lounge, angry that Vil demanded that he return to Pomefiore since he deemed that Epel had been spending too much time at Savanaclaw, he made it very clear to Sayaka how he feel about his Dorm Leader.

At the end of the day, Sayaka decide that despite how beautiful the students of Pomefiore are, having someone as Vil and Rook running the place suddenly makes Sayaka glad that Riddle and Trey are her Dorm Leader and Vice Dorm Leader. Despite the many rules of Heartslabyul, at least Riddle appreciate her effort in trying to keep up with them. Even when she mucks up half of the time.

After their proper meeting and observing her with her friends, Vil actually finds Sayaka’s idealistinc worldview troublesome. She’s naive, reckless and can be blunt (but at least she’s not at Kalim’s level so Vil thinks there’s hope for her to be brought down to reality without too much of a heartache). He also finds her pretty and firmly believes that he can push her to be beautiful and powerful. He likens her to an unpolished sapphire that oddly reminded Vil of the clearest blue sea and that hides horror underneath.

Rook actually always wanted to fight against a knight. A match between a hunter and a knight; he always wonder who would win. Fortunately for him, Sayaka humours his request for the occasional spar and is delighted to find that her fighting style is completely different from Mami. While Mami dances as she fight, Sayaka is direct, brutal and loves to throw multiple swords at him. His keen eyes once spotted that when the tip of his arrow graze her cheek and a line of blood trickle down, he merely blink once and the cut completely vanishes. By the end of the fight, Rook suspect that Sayaka’s magic might actually might involve healing. He can’t wait to observe her!

As for Epel, he gets along with her (since they’re all in the same gang despite coming from different dorms) and admire how she uses her sword to fight. Epel is just happy that Mami, Sayaka and Kyouko are willing to help him get stronger.

IGNIHYDE!

Sayaka was walking back to Heartslabyul once her classes were done for the day when she spotted someone skulking around the hallways. Now, normally she wouldn’t really notice a random student walking through the hallways but what caught her attention is that his hair was on fire!

This girl literally shriek, drop her books and bag on the floor and rush like mad to save this poor student.

Poor Idia Shroud shriek like a banshee when someone tackled him from behind, the both of them tumble onto the floor. He was manhandled and turned around so he could face the student who suddenly tackled him. Immediately his face turn red when it’s one of Homura’s friend. Not only that, it’s the Heartslabyul Knight herself. Idia bemoan internally; he knew he shouldn’t step out of his room today!

“Don’t worry, senpai! I’ll save you!”

“W-What!? Oh, please - g-get off me!”

Idia’s pitiful pleas fall on deaf ears, however. Sayaka is too busy glaring at the blue flames on this student’s head. She transform the ring on her finger into her Soul Gem and thrust it to Idia’s hair. The Dorm Leader could only yelp and gurgled when he’s suddenly being assaulted by a stream of rushing water, nearly drowning him.

10 minutes later, the aftermath of Sayaka’s ‘rescue’ attempt left an unconscious and bald Idia. Well, for about 5 seconds before blue flames blazes his head again. Cue Sayaka thrusting her Sould Gem to the flames again but this time, she was suddenly haul up and away from the prone Idia by Trey and Cater.

The two Heartslabyul seniors was at the right time and place to catch their junior suddenly high-tail away from the path to their dorm and towards Idia. Without hesitating or even questioning it, they quickly ran after her. It’s too bad that they weren’t quick enough to stop Sayaka from dousing Idia with water though.

Sayaka blink when she was suddenly haul away from Idia like a cat. When she tilt her head up to see that it was Trey looking so done with everything, she quickly said, “Clover-senpai! Clover-senpai, you have to let me go! That student is in danger! His head is on fire!”

Trey would’ve facepalm if he could. So instead, he patiently reply, “That’s actually his hair, Miki-chan. He never was in any danger.” Well, until you attacked him, but Trey is kind enough not to say that out loud.

“Huh?”

Despite the absurdity of the situation, Cater laugh and snap a quick selfie of himself and the unconscious and wet Idia before assuring Trey that he’ll take Idia to the infirmary.

As Sayaka, Trey and the rest of the students who were there to witnessed the spectacle, watch Cater dragged poor Idia off, Sayaka began to feel bad. So bad that her eyes began to watered a little.

“I... I didn’t know. I didn’t know, Clover-senpai! I thought he was hurt! I - ”

“Hey, hey, calm down Miki-chan. I know you meant well. Once Idia-san wake up, how about you go visit him and apologise, hmm?”

Sayaka eagerly nodded, loudly promising that she will do that as soon as Idia wakes up.

(To Trey, this is just like that time when Riddle Overblotted. Good God, is this girl gung-ho about helping people. He would need to sit down with Sayaka and try to talk to her into not jumping into conclusions first later. For the sake of the other students).

After that incident, poor Idia is a little afraid of Sayaka (despite how sincere her apologies are) even when Homura casually informed him that among them, Miki Sayaka is the weakest. Well, that day when she tackled him to the ground, it sure didn’t feel that she was weak!

Sayaka felt so bad that she would constantly barge into Ignihyde and ask if there’s anything she could do for Idia. She didn’t judge his hermit-style of living; she’s just too focus in making up to the Dorm Leader. In the end, Idia had her run errands for him (buying snacks, help him pass his notes to teachers and etc) just to get her to leave him and his dorm alone.

It took a long time for Idia to finally warm up to Sayaka. Her cheerful disposition is just too much for him to handle sometimes.

Ortho share the same wariness over Sayaka like his older brother. All he knows about her is the student who attacked his dear, older brother after all. Sayaka has her work cut out for her before the Shroud Brother could be comfortable with her.

As for Sayaka, after she patched up with the Shroud Brothers, she finds his hair actually amazing. Not only does she and Idia share the same hair coloured but his are actual flames! So cool! Maybe she can do the same too?

(Riddle sternly dissuade her from turning her hair into flames. Lighting your hair with fire is against the rule).

DIASOMNIA!

Sayaka’s first interaction with the Diasomnia gang is during Alchemy class. On that day, her partner is Sebek Zigvolt.

Their partnership started out fine. As Divus made his round in the lab, Sayaka steadily stir the potion in their cauldron while Sebek grab the require ingredients from the shelves. Everything started off alright.

Until a misunderstood occur. Sebek didn’t actually insulted Madoka’s shy and timid nature but his words can be quite harsh and Sayaka took it wrongly. So she stop stirring to confront of him, it quickly turn into an argument and voices were raised. With their voices raised, Sebek and Sayaka failed to hear Divus’ shout of warning.

They were too late to react when the cauldron somehow growl and then exploded the liquid all over Sebek, Sayaka and several students who were nearby. The consequences were immediate. Sebek and Sayaka’s voices are swampped and so of those who were caught in the crossfire.

Class was forced to end early because the professor had to check over the students that were doused by Sayaka and Sebek’s half-baked potion for any injuries or hamrful side effects. So far only their voices were swapped with their partners.

Then it’s detention for the two of them while Divus now have to brew an antidote.

(When words reach to their respective Dorm Leaders, Riddle was not amused that Sayaka landed herself in detention over something as silly as an argument and negligence. Though detention with Divus Crewel is enough of a punishment, so Riddle won’t punish her. Malleus just blink when Lilia told him that rigid and proper Sebek has detention because of an argument during his Alchemy class. It’s rare for Sebek to land himself in detention, so Malleus didn’t chatise him. Just told him to be careful next time. Cue Sebek crying in gratitude over his kind and wise lord. His crying woke Silver up from his nap).

Even though she shouldn’t, Madoka felt a little guilty that her friends has detention because of her. Lilia was quick to assure their Fairy that it’s totally not her fault. Sayaka and Sebek just had a bit too much fun that’s all!

Despite their initial meeting, the two actually bonded during detention (as punishment, they had to go into the woods to gather some herbs, flowers and other ingredients for Divus to replace the ones that were lost during the explosion).

Since Sebek is a lot more familiar with the floral and fauna of TW, Sayaka was more than OK at listening to his instructions and Sayaka surprised Sebek when she easily slice the sturdy tree barks that they needed with her sword. Slowly, the two learn more and more about each other.

(They’re too proud to apologise to one another though).

By the time they return to the Alchemy lab, hauling the ingredients behind their back, Sebek thought for a human, he can respect Sayaka as a fellow knight. He’s looking forward to crossing blades with her and he won’t hold anything back. As for Sayaka, she admires his devotion to his Dorm Leader and how couldn’t she, when he’s so passionate about serving him.

Through Sebek, Sayaka was then introduce to Silver and Lilia. There was a pair of white rabbits that were nibbling on some flowers at the courtyard and Sayaka followed them to Silver who was napping underneath a tree nearby. One of the rabbits placed a flower near his hair. Sayaka then realise that small animals were resting alongside him. Wanting to play with the animals, Sayaka made sure to be as quiet as possible as she petted the rabbits and chipmunks. Luckily they didn’t screech or bite her. In fact, they seem to tolerate her.

That’s how Lilia find them; Silver deeply asleep with Sayaka sitting beside him, happily amusing herself with the small animals that flocked to his son. Lilia surprised Sayaka by hanging upside down from the tree, thanking her for watching over Silver. Sayaka yelp but then blush; stammering out that she actually just wanted to play with the animals. Lilia smile and thanked her nonetheless.

Silver woke up when he heard her yelp. He didn’t expect that Sayaka would also flocked to him apart from the animals. Again, Sayaka blushes and told the two to stop teasing her. This made Lilia cackle and Silver frown in confusion. Lilia invites her to their dorm if she wants to see Madoka and Sayaka jumps on the offer. It’s been a while since they hang out, just the two of them, and look, she even has some leftover macaroons that Trey handed to the first-year students of Heartslabyul this morning.

Lilia enjoys being around Sayaka. She makes him feel younger; her youth, passion, sense of justice and etc. Lilia belives that she would grow to be an amazing woman in time. It’s also a good thing that their Fairy has someone like her as a good friend. She could definitely help boost Madoka’s self-esteem.

Silver doesn’t really have any problem with Sayaka. As a knight, he also asked if the two of them could spar sometime. Perhaps Sayaka could teach him how to combine his magic with his swordsmanship. She seems to be able to do it so effortlessly using water.

Sayaka only meet Malleus through Madoka. She offer to help Madoka search for her Dorm Leader when Lilia informed them that the Dorm Leaders and Vice Dorm Leaders will be having a meeting with the headmaster and teachers in less than 3 hours and Malleus is nowhere to be found in Diasomnia. Since Silver and Sebek are in the middle of their class, Madoka volunteered to look for him and Sayaka joined her.

It took them 2 hours to finally find Malleus wandering around the Ramshackle dorm. The moment Sayaka laid eyes on Malleus, she could sense his overwhelming presence and power. It’s made her hesitant. Seeing the wariness in her eyes, Malleus became dishearten. He had hoped that Madoka’s friends would be as fearless as her.

Fortunately with Madoka there, she helps to introduce one another. She even pressed close to Sayaka’s side and whisper that Malleus is actually very gentle and kind. Don’t be scared of his height. Sayaka whisper back that it’s not his height that took her off guard, but she bravely step forward and gave Malleus her most sincere smile.

This earn her a pleasantly surprise and fond smile from Malleus. When Madoka told him that he’s needed back at Diasomnia for a meeting, Malleus allows himself to be usher by these two girls. And what sight these 3 make! With Malleus in the middle and Sayaka and Madoka on his left and right, it feels almost Silver and Sebek are accompanying him. Plus, his ridiculously tall form dwarfed these tiny girls.

He enjoy listening to them talking about mundane, daily things and appreciate that Sayaka would pull him into the conversation by asking about his opinions and hobbies. It was nice being with her.

As for Sayaka, something in her finally vanishes when she personally witness just how attentive and gentle the Diasomnia gang treated Madoka. It makes her happy that her childhood friend is well looked after here.

Alright! And we’re done with Sayaka’s part! Next is Mami! On a related note, I’ll be posting an announcement regarding updates to my TW’s works tomorrow. I think I needed to do it so those who sticked around for this series knows what’s up.

#twisted wonderland #puella magi madoka magica #puella magi holy quintet #Holy Quintet in TW series #crossover

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meteorstricken · 4 years

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Sephiroth Week, Day 7 Prompt: Rebirth

“Assimilation”

"Let me give you one last piece of advice, Ancient. No matter what you do, it's futile. It's all part of this Planet's system. Many foreign entities from the skies fall into the Planet's life cycle unknowingly and now Jenova’s in there. So where does its soul go? Even if you try to destroy it, it will never disappear. It has merged with the Sea of Mako, drifting through every part of the Planet through the Lifestream. One day, you will all have to live as part of Jenova. Hahaha... It's only a matter of how soon that will happen."--Professor Hojo to Aerith, 'Maiden Who Travels the Planet'

~~~~

Spring

The planet's personality was changing. Spring brought forth flora in vibrant, unnatural colors--purple spiny fronds where long, gentle gold and green waves used to grow. Giantism emerged in some of the smaller creatures. A house kitten born the previous winter might be confused with one of the big, feral carnivores, because that's what it had become. Chocobo teeth were novelty for country fairs, once their keepers learned how not to get bitten. And, incidentally, once they figured out that the birds no longer craved greens. A herding dog or two was lost to that discovery.

Although the change brought fear, for the most part, people learned to live with it. Smaller villages put up fences. Hunting became a popular pastime once more, granting some of the elderly a renewed sense of purpose as they trained their grandchildren. Cuisine and medicine transformed by leaps and bounds. At times it was a struggle, but adaptation allowed everyone to continue living their normal lives for the most part.

What had brought on this change? What had so influenced the planet's idea of itself? Most--from the subsistence farmer to the W.R.O. expert reporting directly to Reeve Tuesti--believed that it was simply the growing pains of a world that had been through way too much in too little time. Jokes of planetary puberty abounded.

No one could say for sure, but there was also no evidence to the contrary. Wily though the world was, there seemed to be no deliberate villainy afoot, and the last Mako reactor had been disabled years ago.

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

Summer

They were once members of Shinra-endorsed fanclub called the Silver Elite, which also served as an arm of the old company's propaganda efforts. Although long since disbanded, many remained friends, and they journeyed together to Icicle Inn that Summer to get away from the abnormal heat that had cloaked much of the world, binding it into one shared season. It was unusually warm here as well, but pleasantly so.

Under a full moon they gathered around a fire, black-cloaked and nervous. All at once, they'd felt the urge--no, the need-- to dress that way. It was comfortable, they said to one another, but they couldn't define it any further than that, and they didn't try to. A hush fell over them. One woman began to hum a directionless, unknown tune. Two more joined in with her. Then, all together, they somehow achieved a perfect, united harmony.

"Do you remember Sephiroth?" one of them spoke when they'd ended the mysterious song.

There was laughter at first. Of course everyone remembered. The only reason most of them knew one another was because Shinra had convinced them to lust after its prided SOLDIER. Not that much convincing had been needed--the man had been a living masterpiece.

"But he was more…he became more than that, didn't he?" the eldest voiced. There was something desperate and pleading in her tone, as if she was trying to remember part of the doctored tales they'd all been fed that perhaps wasn't so made up.

"If Chairwoman H was right…maybe?"

"Whatever became of her? Did anyone ever actually meet her? Who was she?"

"Probably just another company shill."

Another long, drawn out silence descended over the group. The fire snapped and crackled, and a chilly wind blew down from the Great Glacier--a rapid-melting mass that was said to have flooded the ancient ruins nearby. Small runoff streams had turned to pregnant, raging rivers. There was one they could all hear nearby, roaring as it raced out to the ocean.

"He's alive. I can feel it. We were lied to."

"He can't die. Not truly. He will always return."

Fearful glances rounded the flames. Some nature of spell had come over all of them; something far more potent than raving, pop culture-promoted thirst. What had started as a get away to remember the bad old days had turned to an impromptu cultish conclave, though not one believed they were making anything up. The words and tunes and rhythms surged through them from without--something magical and terrible.

There was no time to think twice. They had heard the call, and they'd all obeyed. What more was left to them?

"The Crisis and Solution, beginning to end to beginning again. Become now the cycle and the meaning, the life and the death, in aeternum, forever and ever," raised up an overlapping chant.

There was weeping. There was trembling. They all shouted the name. And they all threw themselves into the fire.

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

Autumn

When Fall arrived, it brought with it dying, pretty leaves and a stilted harvest time--the world had not yet adjusted to living the same season all at once. Supply chains were strained, but attitudes remained upbeat. The planet was healing, everyone agreed. They had to follow its lead so that it could complete the process. For all humanity had taken, a little sacrifice for a couple of years was a small price to pay to be able to witness the planet at full strength--something only the Ancients would have last seen. To live in such a time was a privilege.

And that remained the message, even as Rufus Shinra, his Turks and W.R.O. operatives in Midgar and Junon convened over video calls in darkest hours before dawn. It had now become mercilessly clear that the planet was not acting on its own.

"Yes, degradation, like SOLDIER," Tseng confirmed. "It was first observed in the Junon area forests."

"Which life forms appear to be affected? Is it a danger to humans yet?" Reeve asked.

"Everything our people have tested has come up positive, including crops and cattle. Anything that eats has it," Rufus broke in.

Reeve crossed one leg over the other, wiped his brow, and loosened his collar. "But degradation comes directly from…" He couldn't bring himself to finish.

"Jenova cells. The late Professor Hojo's Reunion theories never accounted for something of this scale, however," Tseng supplied.

"Reunion suggests a gathering together of infected organisms. This is just…it's a take over!" Reeve exclaimed. "How do we stop it?"

Eyes darted between one another. Heads bowed. Of course, there was no stopping it now. It was something that, if they'd not been distracted with everything else over the past several years--Sephiroth's second coming, Deepground and Omega, and the sheer labor expenditure it took to try to keep society stable and rebuilding through those setbacks--should have been researched and addressed immediately following Meteorfall.

But no one knew enough. No one even knew to ask if there could be such all-consuming consequences for the SRD's environmental failures like this. It was beyond imagining.

"We don't. We stay the course," Rufus finally answered.

"Accept that adaptation is necessary, and everyone has to do their part to live with it…" Reeve said, defeated.

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

Winter

Sephiroth opened his eyes. He could sense that a frigid cold had overtaken the surface world in its entirety. Mother's essence had at last permeated all things, causing the ecosystems to assimilate and the seasons to act as one. All plant life had returned its energy to the planet, and there its cycle had ended with him; one with him. He was the new living thing they were all to become.

The planet itself was a second skin for him now, one that he was gradually peeling back with each new death.

All fauna was at his fingertips to do with as he pleased--he needed only reach out. Whales, bloated and transformed beyond their bodies' functioning, beached themselves. Fish devoured one another in a feeding frenzy, each one poisoning the other. Bears that would have hibernated crawled out restless from their dens, fierce and hungry. They waded up streams to feed, restrained to the instinct that would have prepared them for the Winter months, freezing to death overly-gorged. House pets turned on their keepers, content to feed on the hands that had faithfully provided for them.

Spirit energy surged and surged into the planet's core, into him. He was rising, becoming…

Bleak despair shrouded the humans' domains as the months crept onward, and Spring failed to arrive again because he did not ordain it so. Some of them killed themselves; others relished blame and murder. Most of the time, they were inspiration enough for themselves, but that did not stop Sephiroth from amusing himself, pushing where hesitation plagued them. Riots and mini wars broke out.

A select few names, he withheld from the end until the very last. Cloud, Tifa, Nanaki, Vincent, Cid, Barret, Reeve, along with some who remained with Shinra were to see the world in its total desolation.

When that day came, he drew them together at the ocean's crimson-dyed shore and announced his presence in their minds. Yes, it was him all along. He had done this, and they'd accomplished nothing but to watch and wait. They'd allowed him to infect all things, and for a time, had taken joy in it. Now, all that was left of the surface was them, the corpse-littered ice-encrusted landscape, and its bloody waters.

As one, they fell to their knees, and he placed a weak, breathy proclamation on their frost-bitten lips--"The Crisis and Solution, beginning to end to beginning again. Become now the cycle and the meaning, the life and the death, in aeternum, forever and ever."

At last, he sent a tidal wave to crush them, and their souls were his.

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

Rebirth

A dead planet spun erratically off its axis, breaking orbit from its sun, and flung itself into the depths of space. Fragments broke off from the old husk until all that was left was the green orb that had incubated inside. Brilliantly glowing, it shattered into a million gleaming shards, and a living entity full of wings and eyes--the summation of all life that had ever lived on that world-- unfurled from it.

A god was born.

#sephirothweek2020 #sephirothweek #sephiroth #ffvii #my fics #day 7 #mild gore #major character death #graphic depictions of violence #lovecraftian shenanigans

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insidemyblood · 3 years

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001 // Bucky Barnes: You Only Live Twice

Eyelids flutter slowly leaving the darkness behind, lazily, it’s all too bright.

There is snow everywhere, a beautiful sight of large pines covered in ivory white, such a contrast next to the scarlet snow around him. He tries to lift his head but he can’t. Fingers dig into the snow as he tries to move and he notices something is wrong with one of his hands. He can’t feel the piercing cold from the ice slipping between his fingers anymore, but then again there is not much he can truly feel. His eyes feel too heavy and so does the rest of his body, his mind is hazy. He knows it has to be his own blood that’s spilled over the snow making it red. He knows he’s maybe freezing to death although he can’t feel it either. The soldier closes his eyes and hears some words. Russian. The voice has been speaking for a while but he only pays attention to it as the warm breath of the muzzle of a dog examines him. All those bills Uncle Sam paid for his education are being put to good use now. His eyes open and he understand the man is telling him not to move nor talk once he grunts in an attempt to ask for his location. He sees a second man getting closer and barking instructions at the first one, both of them lift him carefully and carry him into some kind of carriage to drag him.

It all fades to black again.

The cold hasn’t gone anywhere but at least he can feel it now. His eyes open slowly, expecting to still be lost into the endless woods but instead he’s in a dimly lit and murky room. There are several men staring at him, marveled, as if it were some kind of miracle to see him awake. None of them seems familiar. First instinct is too look at his hands. That’s when he first sees the shiny metal fingers folding at will, matching his flesh and bone right hand on the other side. He sees a reflection, himself, his eyes gazing him across the room but it isn’t familiar either. He can’t remember if that’s how he has always looked like, he can’t even remember his own name. His heart races in distress. He needs answers. He needs to get out. His pupils blow wide and as an impulse he knocks out two of the men, then takes another one by the throat until he can’t breath no more. He can feel a sea of armed men over his back trying to stop him. He fights like a man possessed, outnumbered, and never sees the needle coming at him.

The soldier is put into sleep again and will be later put into stasis until they figure what to do with him.

They all look proud when they call him The Winter Soldier. He has turned into one of them. They gave him a purpose, a cause, and he is loyal to it. He is their most valuable asset despite the minor incidents with the soldier’s programming. There is a war, they said, a war of ghosts and allies are needed, that’s why he has to work with Hydra. When the soldier meets his new handlers, he sees a man with a twisted smirk speaking at him as if they had met before, in another lifetime. The more the man says the better he can finally put some of the pieces together: The Howling Commandos and Captain America. Steve. The train. He… he fell from that train. He was Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes from Unit 107. He and other fifty men were captured by Hydra and taken into the Valkyries as prisioners, where he was experimented on by Dr. Zola, amongst many others that didn't make it. Zola is the mysterious man speaking. The soldier knows what is about to happen, what the scientist is planning on doing to him but he can’t fight. He is heavily restrained from arms and legs as they know what he’s capable of. He wishes he had died on that train, died during one of the hard punishments he took from the russians at the Red Room. But he can’t die. He is doomed. Doomed to being used over and over and over as a weapon. To be the monster they want him to become. And with one switch, the electricity comes in to wipe away everything again.

The man lets out a scream and wakes up on a matress, covered in sweat, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding like a mad drum in his ears. The soldier takes a moment to recover and takes the sweat off his forehead with his palm. His stare seems lost into the nothingness of his dark room.

He remembers.

#▍▎Д ЩДУ ΓФ ЯΞDΞMPΓIФИ;「char. study bucky 」#Have a thing I wrote some years ago for my old blog

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tarithenurse · 4 years

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Stolen - 10

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson &/x fem!gifted!reader Content: Angst. Feels. Plot. Regerts. Fluffy inclinations. Mentions of torture. References to past MCU events. A/N: *radiates love to everyone* *begins singing Tina Turner’s “You’re simply the best”* Ask or reblog if you want a tag.

10. Leave a Scar

… Reader …

Two days later and you’re still praying that Loki has no idea what you’ve heard even if the chances seem remote. He’s grown quiet. Brooding. Most of the time he’s off somewhere without you but when he returns he finds a secluded corner and a carafe of wine to wash down his gloominess with.

He’s plotting how to kill me. It makes sense – haven’t you done what he wanted you to? The talk about keeping you safe must have been nothing but a ruse to eventually break your spirit completely before delivering the final blow. On the other hand, it seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to if he was just going to waste the effort by being emo. Plotting to kill someone else? Now, that would make sense considering his track record.

On and on your thoughts run in circles and not even the beautiful view from the balcony can provide enough of a distraction today.

“Tell me, mortal.” His voice startles you, coming from right behind you. “What’s plaguing your mind, hmm?”

There’s nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide from those piercing, green eyes boring into the back of your skull. Pulling at the sleeves of the purple dress (kindly lend to you by the Älfir), you consider how to out-lie a liar.

“What...what is going to happen now?” you manage to ask, forcing your voice past a lump in your throat.

The sigh that fans your shoulder is chilling. “It seems I have to change my plans.”

Unsure of anything, this isn’t what you had expected. Turning towards him, the somberness clings to his face and cuts his already sharp features from ice. Only now do you realize that there had been a spring in his step and a softness to his gaze a short week ago but since then something has extinguished the light.

Your hand twitches as you restrain yourself from reaching out to stroke his cheek. “What’s happened?” Did he see that?

If he did, nothing in his demeanour divulges anything as Loki steps as close as he can without the mossy greens of his clothing brushing against purple. A thousand worlds could come and go that second and you would never have noticed because the Asgardian’s presence is all-encompassing, sucking you into his personal vortex of pride and pain, stubbornness and deference.

“Why would you care what has happened?” His words are cold like blades of ice, but this time you see through it and wait him out. He resigns. “The Älfir’s magic is not strong enough. They cannot restore Jotunheim.” Deflated.

“If they could’ve then they would’ve healed the Priestess too.” Biting your tongue off suddenly feels like a really good idea.

The silence is oppressing, drawing out the seconds as the man looks you over as if you just dropped from the moon. Like he’s seeing me for the first time. The sensation is far from comforting, something that’s enhanced as the thin lips begin to curve into a crooked smile revealing white teeth.

“You did that.” Man, you hate the way he practically purrs.

“Barely.” You step backwards, bumping into a pillar.

Even now, you can’t help but notice how smoothly he moves as he follows in your footsteps. “But you did.”

Somehow managing to sidestep the god, you make it two steps into the shade of the room before his hands have gotten hold and you’re twirled, forced against the cold wall.

“Don’t -”

“Shush.” He places a cold finger on your lips, making you comply automatically. “We all have sacrifices to make.”

A smidgen of logic in the back of your skull is screaming at you to shut up, to let him have this victory while you figure out a way to get out of the situation. Of course you don’t listen to it, deciding instead to pull yourself up to your full height (as unimpressive as it may be compared to Loki) and glare at him. There’s even a moment there where you impress yourself by how calm your voice is when you answer.

“No. I won’t be your puppet anymore.” Black eyebrows shoot upwards at your words. “And if you kill me, at least I know you’ll still be crying every night.”

That’s the instant the sense of heroic pride dies.

The emerald eyes you secretly admire change into a sea of blood while a flood of blue, broken by ridges and lines cover what skin you can see and causes you to gasp, drawing in air so cold you can feel the lungs crackle in complaint. If at least Loki would snarl or growl, then it would somehow make sense, but he just smiles, the white teeth suddenly similar to the fangs of a predator. A wolf...and I’m the lamb.

“Mortal. Pet.” A claw traces along your cheekbone before scraping down your throat. “I thought we were coming to an understanding? You would obey my every wish in return for the life of those you love?” Nodding is the only option. “Tsk tsk. Perhaps I have underestimated you, wench, thinking you had a soul, a heart. Hoping you would recognize real evil when held up against the light of truth.”

Well...I’m already doomed. “You told a story -!”

“A story?!” This time he does snarl. “I’ll show you story!”

The cold of his hands burn the skin on your forehead, wrist, and palm as he slams your hand against his brow and mirrors the movement.

... Loki ...

The first glimpses are simple until the events fully unfold. Falling – he will hate the sensation forever. Falling through nothingness for half an eternity until he lands more dead than alive...except this time he’s watching it from the outside. We’re watching it. Though the Jotun can’t see it, he knows that [Y/N] is there with him, a spectator without the option to look away when the actor is found and brought to the Titan.

What were months or maybe years at the mercy of Thanos and his Children flash by in a few minutes, perhaps. Torture, mind games, hatred twisted and turned until it points back to the outcast prince and penetrates his soul, leaving it to fester before he finally succumbs to the touch of a sceptre. From there the events unfold in a blur only occasionally brought into focus when a part of the fallen god tries to rebel against the shackles.

It’s only when the Loki they watch is lying at the feet of the Avengers that clarity is fully restored, though one kind of shackles is replaced by another. Then: a speck of blue grants an opportunity impossible to dismiss.

A vision. A memory. A nightmare.

Loki’s hands fall to his sides. It’s over. The wall in the Älfir temple looks less real than what [Y/N] and the Jotun have just witnessed, but the wide eyes staring up at him brings reality back like a kick in the balls. She knows. Everyone knows when they witness the recollections of someone else – no amount of so called rational thinking can convince them they have hallucinated because they feel it as if they lived it themselves.

“[Y/N]...”

Tears are welling in her eyes, lips quivering as she tries to root herself in the present. “He...y-you...” What I wouldn’t do to take away your pain. “That was -” A sniffle interrupts her.

He hates it. Hates the despair she’s drowning in at his hands. Truly, he has proven to be the monster he claimed not to be. Losing control and forcing [Y/N] through this nightmare serves no purpose at all.

“I will...I will ensure your safety and then you will never hear from me again,” he promises shamefully, “now...get some rest.”

...

Flat on his back and with the hands behind his head, Loki’s gaze is fixed on a point far beyond the ceiling above. Dawn is nearing yet sleep has evaded him, chased away by memories and guilt. It served no purpose. Priding himself of his logic, the turmoil raging inside his heart is has pushed the Jotun to act rashly and he hates it because he wishes to be more than a beast that simply lashes out when cornered. He doesn’t want to be the monster he behaved like. No, the man in him has to find a way to -

“Loki?” The whisper is hesitant, almost too quiet to hear. “Are you...are you awake?”

He sits up, bare feet on the stone floor as if to ground himself. The covers slides from his chest, revealing the pale skin in the darkness but [Y/N] probably can’t see it with her human eyes as she stands in the doorway.

Draped in the soft-flowing silk from a borrowed shift, she could almost pass for one of the ghosts from the fanciful tales children enjoy to fear. Loki can see her better than that. He can see her face straining as she tries to find him in the dark, and her arms wrapped tightly around the ribs below her bosom perhaps to find some comfort.

“Yeah...I’m awake,” the god rasps softly in return. Is that regret or relief in your sigh?

Sitting there, waiting for the unknown, a tension begins to permeate the air and send tendrils to every nerve ending of Loki’s body. A coil tightens in his chest and it becomes nearly unbearable when [Y/N] tentatively walks towards him, her feet careful as they seek out the right path. A few steps before the goal, her hands reach out to locate the Jotun and he has taken them before thinking to stop himself.

Steeling herself with a deep breath, the mortal braves the silence. “This doesn’t mean we’re okay, but...I believe you now.”

“[Y/N] -”

“Shut up.” He does. “I’m trying to say that...that I get it a-and I trust you.”

Loki has no answer. Gaping slightly at her, he tries to come to terms with the woman’s foolishness. Once or twice a sentence nearly forms in his mind only to dissolve before it can be uttered and the task increases in difficulty as she shyly shifts her weight from one leg to the other, toes intertwining as best they can while she bites her lip.

He obviously startles her as he stands. Yet you don’t run, my dear? A shiver rolls through her the moment he embraces the lithe form.

“Oh! Oh, we’re...hugging? Okay, we can hug,” she babbles, unknowingly making the god smile into her hair.

It’s impossible to say how long they stand like this or when [Y/N]’s warm fingertips start a slow dance across his naked back. Then again, time hardly matters as the Jotun pulls back enough to study her face, smelling her hectic breath that fans against his skin.

“Thank you,” he says, but means I think I love you, “you should rest.”

Her hands retreat, and right away Loki misses the scalding touch and the heat of her body as she navigates the darkness to find her own bed.

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