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wallwriterstuff · 4 years

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These Violent Delights ||Alec Volturi x Female Reader||

Part 3 of a request for @tiger-khans-blog

Part 1 - Obsession Part 2 - When You’re Lost I’ll Leave My Gaslight On

Warnings: Yandere!Alec, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships and implied non-con later on. This is possibly one of the darkest fics I have ever written so please be aware if controlling behaviour, gaslighting etc. is triggering to you, do not read this fic.

This fic in particular contains graphic descriptions of violence and injury further down.

Words: 5543

Summary: With no idea what is and isn’t real anymore you’re beginning to lose your mind and suspect your loving mate isn’t all he seems to be. Desperate for some semblance of sanity you try one last time to clear your head, and the consequences are dire.

Demetri had suspected that there was something more going on beyond the surface. Y/N Swan was quite a sweet little thing and he had missed her greatly, but he respected her decision – as had Felix – to create some distance between them so she could learn to get along with Alec. Now Demetri was wondering if she’d ever made that decision at all. With increasing frequency Alec had burst into his room or the throne room with the declaration you were missing, and Demetri had immediately put his gift to good use. In almost all the situations Demetri had prepared for the worst, perhaps he’d find you kidnapped or injured somewhere after an outing gone wrong? But every time he’d found you you had been perfectly fine and dreadfully confused as to why he was there at all.

You were always doing quite mundane things. He didn’t even need to track you half the time to tell Alec you were at that little café whose pastries you adored. Sometimes you ventured further out, wanting to see the leaves changing colour in autumn in the park nearby. Other times you were literally right on their doorstep, drawing on the edge of the fountain. On those occasions Demetri stayed with you, letting you have a few minutes more of freedom, because he had started to notice a disturbing pattern – every time he found you you looked more and more lost. You had adamantly refused to accept Alec had not seen your note the first few times, but the doubt slowly crept in until you were entirely unsure of what you had or hadn’t done. Alec was never violent upon your reunion, playing the part of the concerned mate perfectly. He was always so relieved to have you back, but the boy seemed oblivious that you were obviously suffering.

You had lost that spark you used to have in your eyes, and your posture had become more slumped over. You were meeker, agreeing to whatever was put forward to you without question more often than not. Demetri was sure he could tell you the sky was purple and you’d whole heartedly agree, even if the blue was staring you right in the face. Your withdrawn personality didn’t seem to trouble Alec but it bothered him greatly. He wasn’t sure how it had happened but you were a shell of your former self, an anxious, meek little thing who looked nowhere near as happy as she should given she had found her mate. He had caught you in the kitchen once, tired from a day of studying Italian with Marcus as you had become want to do, berating yourself for dropping a pan on your toes while cooking. To say he was surprised to hear your cursing your ‘clumsy human hands’ was an understatement.

No, no Demetri was beyond suspicious, especially when you began to go ‘missing’ more frequently, looking more and more desperate each time he found you further and further out. You had fought him the last time he found you, pounding against his chest and begging him to not take you back. His concern had brought him in all good faith to Alec’s door while you slept one night.

“What can I do for you?” Alec asked, head tilting curiously. Demetri frowned.

“It’s about Y/N. I have some concerns, Alec.” He answered. Alec’s frown immediately depeened, his eyes growing darker.

“What concerns? Is she sick? She seemed fine when I left her to sleep.”

“No, no nothing like that, though I fear her mind may not be healthy. She seems…anxious, desperate to be out of the castle. Is there something going on Alec?” he asked. Alec’s already dark eyes turned black, the red leeching out of his irises so fast Demetri was almost shocked. His expression was cold as an arctic wind and his voice held little room for argument when he answered him.

“That is of no concern to you, she’s shared her worries with me already. You overstep Demetri, she’s my mate and I’ll care for her how I see fit.”

“I simply want to know if there is anything I can do to help. It’s no secret we care for the girl to Alec, let us help.” He frowned.

“What she needs from you, Demetri, is to be left the hell alone. Stop filling her head with poison. I know you talk at the fountain. She’s upset because you suggested she might be allowed to visit her family one day. They haven’t written to her in months, the false hope crushed her. Leave my mate to me and stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” He snarled quietly. Demetri hissed quietly, his irritation flaring.

“What are you talking about? A letter arrived for her Tuesday gone.” He received a door to his face as his answer, the wood actually splintering a little with the force Alec slammed it with. He knew you had been getting letters frequently from the Cullen’s and your sister, he had seen some of them when the secretary was sorting the mail out, so why hadn’t you been getting them? If you were in such a deep spiral surely it was a contributing factor. The only thing he could think of was that the secretary hadn’t delivered them. But why? he flitted straight to her desk without another moment to spare, finding her packing up to leave for the evening. She jumped at his sudden appearance.

“Demetri, I didn’t see you there, how can I help you?” she was a new girl, the fourth one in the past two months, and he didn’t care to remember her name. His head tilted.

“You received a letter the other day for Y/N Swan did you not?” he questioned, leaning against her desk. She frowned, nodding.

“I did, I gave it to Alec to deliver, did it not reach her?” she asked, looking somewhat anxious now. Demetri paused, letting his mind work it over. So, Alec had been supposed to deliver that had he? How many more had he gotten his grubby little hands on? Demetri felt a quiet sense of horror dawn on him. It made a lot more sense suddenly, why you weren’t getting any of your family’s letters. Alec had taken them all to keep you from getting in touch with them. Was your silence towards himself and Felix the same? Orchestrated by Alec so not even you knew the real reason the three of you no longer spoke?

“Not on this occasion. Not to worry, thank you for your help, sweet thing.” He shot her a charming smile to mask his sudden anxiety and disappeared as quickly as he came, heading straight for the throne room. Maybe you hadn’t been going mad at all, maybe Alec was the one driving you insane…

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Caius growled, beyond annoyed with the way he had flung the door open in his haste. Demetri grimaced.

“My apologies Masters, but I need to talk to you urgently.”

You had to get out this time. The walls of old buildings scraped at your hands as you bolted down one alleyway after the next, swinging around corners and doing your best to stay upright as the cobblestones did their best to trip you. You couldn’t take it anymore. Your anxiety was at an all time high, panic attacks in the morning a common thing as you dreaded the day ahead – another day of disappointing Alec in all your human imperfection. There was no one you could turn to for comfort either, not with Demetri so busy all the time. He was less of a friend and more of a guard, dragging you back each time you left as Alec had promised you his duty as a guard entailed. The worst part was that you knew your feelings of inadequacy were completely unnecessary because you weren’t the one in the wrong, Alec was.

It had become more and more obvious he wasn’t letting you leave the castle, and sneaking out when you could became your one chance to see sunlight, to have any sort of freedom. When you’d tried to ask him about it he’d brushed you off again, telling you you were being silly and reminding you of all the times he’d taken you out to the Gardens, all the gifts you’d been given as apologies for missed opportunities to venture out into the world…but he’d been lying as long as you’d known him. Maybe he had learned to control his urges, but not his darkest impulses. Alec had wanted you all to himself and he had managed to succeed with his lies and deceit. It had been a complete accident, when you came across the mountain of lies he’d told. You had been waiting to surprise him (having stayed up to wait for him to finish his guard shift) when you spilt a glass of apple juice down your shirt. His closet was the closest place to find a replacement and it would hardly be the first time you’d taken a shirt of his.

The shrine in his closet was just too much.

Everything that had gone missing lay at an alter dedicated to you. Tears blurred your vision as the flash of ivory and familiar, scribbly writing permeated your mind once more. Letters – Bella’s letters. Your sister had never forgotten you. Alec had simply made you think she had. You had been right all along, the bundled-up letters proved as such, he had always been a monster. Selfish and ugly all the way to the core, Alec Volturi had never been your Prince Charming. How many other lies had he told? He’d isolated you until all you had was him, till you relied on him to get you through your day. No more. You tripped over your own feet, vision blurred by tears. The ground rushed up to meet you, a sharp sting ripping through your knee as you cried out, catching yourself with your hands before you could smash your face into the stone. Gasping for air, you tried desperately to fill your lungs, the rising hysteria making it difficult to steady your breathing. What if you couldn’t escape? Demetri always found you and he’d drag you back there, you knew he would. He couldn’t be allowed to find you, not this time, you had to keep moving and –

“Signorina?”

Your head snapped up, body scrambling to right itself despite the deep throbbing in your knee. A young man not too much older than yourself was slowly coming towards you, hands raised and expression concerned. He had a sort of roguish charm about him, tousled dark hair and equally as dark eyes (too lose to Alec’s angry onyx to be of any comfort) set in a tanned face. He had more colour to his skin than Alec could ever hope to have. With the sleeves of a plain white shirt rolled up to his elbows, top buttons undone and smart pants on, he must have been coming home from a shift as a waiter perhaps, maybe a barista in one of the fancier coffee houses in town, but you didn’t trust him at all. How could you trust anyone when the one person you had relied on had been a lying, manipulative, deceitful little –

“S-stay back.” You stammered, scrambling to get to your feet now. The tear in your skin oozed fresh blood, dampening your skin and making you whimper. It wasn’t that it hurt necessarily, though it did sting terribly, it was more the fear that you knew what lurked in the shadows of Volterra and if anyone smelled that…well, Demetri was a hundred times more likely to find you now, wasn’t he?

“I don’t mean you any…erm…ah…hurt?” he tried, his accent thick and his English clearly not at the level of fluency. If you were in a better state of mind you’d be at least grateful he tried, however he was still approaching you and you didn’t enjoy his proximity when you needed to move. You had to keep going, had to get to a bus stop or a train station, something! Was there even a place like that in Volterra? There had to be right? You took a step away from him, your leg failing you so you half fell, half limped forward. His arms were around you in an instant and you screamed, wriggling desperately to fight him off.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Merda! Smettila di lottare!” (Shit! Stop fighting!) he cursed, tightening his grip on you. Legs flailing, you threw your head back in a desperate attempt to get him to let go, your skull protesting as bone crunched beneath it. His arms dropped and you darted forward, only for your knee to give way once more. With another loud curse the boy was on-top of you then, glancing around wildly to see if anyone had noticed your scuffle yet. His weight atop you was almost suffocating given how much trouble you had already had breathing, and tears filled your eyes as you wriggled to try and be free of him.

“Get off of me! Help!” you screamed. Blood dripped from his nose onto your cheeks, hot and thick and oozing slowly down your cheek. “Stop it!” Strong hands encircled your wrists, pinning them harshly to the stone beneath you. It dug into your spine uncomfortably and it became very clear very quickly you were not escaping this boy.

“Stop!” he snapped, muttering a few choice words in Italian you had heard Felix use once or twice. His expression was contorted into a mask of pain, his nose swollen but not broken and his body holding tight to your own to keep you from moving. Your struggling was only serving to make you brush against him though, and it was clear the effect it was having on him was not helping him decide to let you go. If you had been in your right mind, you would have understood this boy was only trying to help, stop you moving to ensure you didn’t hurt yourself further, but in the moment your reality was warped and far too terrifying for you to see sense.

“Fuoco! Fuoco!” (Fire! Fire!) Your father had always taught you to tell fire rather than help, it attracted more attention he said. You didn’t attract the kind of attention you wanted. The boy was thrown off of you in a blur of movement, his body smashing into the brickwork of the house across from you. You heard the bones shattering, his ear-piercing scream ringing in your ears as a black cloak obscured his attacker. With or without the cloak you knew who it was, the smaller, lean stature, the ferocity with which he tore into his victim. You whimpered, eyes turning away from the poor boy. There was no way to help him now, not when Alec was busy popping his bones through his skin like one might spear a sausage with a cocktail stick at a party. Rolling to your front, you tried desperately to get your trembling limbs to cooperate, your hysterical screaming echoing off of the walls.

You had barely limped three steps when the screeching behind you abruptly cut away into a gurgling sound. Ice cold hands found your shoulders and you whirled desperately to try and fend Alec off, only to freeze at the sight of the poor, mangled boy behind you. His actions may not have been good, but he didn’t deserve to be folded in on himself like a human pretzel, bones poking out of his skin and blood gushing from an open wound on his throat. He was drowning in crimson, choked by the same saccharine liquid Alec was licking off of his thumb now, onyx eyes boring into your own with his usual apathetic expression hiding the pure mania in his eyes.

He hadn’t even fed, he’d killed the boy for sport.

“See what happens when you go out alone little human?” he asked. The bile rose in your throat too quickly to stop it and Alec obligingly held your hair as you turned to the side and threw up at your feet, hot acid burning the back of your throat and stomach churning violently. Panting, you kept your wide-eyed stare fixed on the cobblestones. Even then it wasn’t enough, a trail of blood slowly seeping its way towards you, descending downhill like some morbid snake writhing between the stones. You couldn’t keep the tears away this time as Alec’s breath, metallic with the scent of another man’s blood, sent a wave of dizziness over you.

“P-please…please d-don’t…I can’t…” your head spun, too many thoughts and feelings crashing and colliding and rendering you a stammering mess before you finally grew mute, your body growing cold. Alec held you tenderly, like you were the only thing in the world to him that mattered, his embrace as soft as cotton but cold, as though death itself had shrouded you. In the distant parts of your mind you recognised he was talking to you, but you didn’t dare listen. He was the serpent that tempted Eve, a voice of velvet spinning spider webs to ensnare you. Dimly, you noted that the boy’s blood was running past your toes now.

Was this how it ended for you? Had Alec finally had enough of your obedience training? Clearly it hadn’t worked. You felt filthy to the core for enjoying his embrace, but his arms were strong and held you when your legs couldn’t anymore, his honeyed words a balm to your aching soul, promising his own brand of everlasting love - the same brand he’d gotten you hopelessly addicted to. Even his scent made your head swim, fresh linen that should be so crisp and clear, refreshing, just drowned you further. Nobody would come for you now. Alec had finally gotten you in his grasp just as he wanted and you were far, far too tainted for anyone to save. The wounds his love had inflicted too deep, festering and rotting you from the inside out, and the worst part was, you had let it happen.

You had accepted every kind word, every smile, every present, every touch, as a gift bestowed on you that you were unworthy of. So blinded by the dazzling display of redemption were you you hadn’t seen beyond the surface of the superficial affection he laid at your feet, too enamoured with all he had become to see the old monster lingering in every smile and darkening of his eyes. Alec had never changed, he had simply wore you down, so when his frozen fingers pushed your jaw upward and to the left you didn’t fight, because deep down you knew you’d never stood a chance.

“It’s alright Y/N, you’re only human,” he whispered, “You can be forgiven for that…”

“How?” your voice cracked. Forgiveness seemed impossible. If Bella or your father or anyone you loved could see you now you knew forgiveness would not be the word on their lips. How could you be forgiven for letting yourself fall so far? How could you be forgiven for being the reason that poor boy didn’t go home tonight? He had chosen to try and help you and it had only gotten him brutally murdered. The only thing Alec had ever been right about was that you were only human. None of the terrible things that had happened to you or anyone surrounding you were your fault. The blame lay solely at Alec’s feet.

“By acknowledging your flaws and becoming something more.”

Somehow, despite all the evidence before you, you really hadn’t expected him to bite down. Some part of you still thought he was above that maybe. It was like lava pouring straight from his mouth into your veins, filling your wound until it spilled over and shot down your arms, through your torso, scorching your nerve endings. It spread rapidly and you couldn’t bite back the bloodcurdling scream that left you. Alec held you tight as your body jerked, trying to escape the inescapable, the agony was all internal, a fire consuming you from the inside out.

“Alec! Alec what did you do!”

“What I had to to protect my mate!”

“Good god Alec…”

“Look at this mess.” The voices were indistinguishable, heightened and then muted, blending and yet distinctive. Your vision was too blurred to figure out the faces behind the cloaks swarming you, ripping you from one cold embrace to the next. Everything was too hot and you couldn’t escape it, no way to tear yourself out of your own body as it was flooded with acid.

“Shhhh, shhh little human.”

“Demetri get her out of here before she draws attention to this scene.”

“D-D-De-“ you barely got half of his name out before another scream broke through your throat. You didn’t have the strength to hold it back, couldn’t feel the grip your friend had on you. The world was slipping away inch by inch as you drowned in a pool of molten fire, the surface disappearing and taking you with it. Maybe this was hell? Maybe your weakness had earned you a spot in eternal fire and torment and this was only the beginning of a very long forever?

“Just give in Y/N, let go, just let go.” Somewhere through the pain you were sure Demetri had said this to you, and you battered heart didn’t know how to take it. It beat erratically, every frantic thud hoping beyond hope it would take you closer to a reunion with Bella, with the Cullen’s, with anyone you held dear. Did Demetri just want you to fall unconscious or did he mean you to really let go? What did you have to wake up for in Volterra after all? Alec would never let you leave, that much was clear now. You tried to hold onto these thoughts, really debate them and use them to ground you and keep you there, but they scattered like ash with the rest of you as the fire built to a raging inferno and melted everything you ever were.

The intense agony was all you knew now. What else could you do? Trapped in your head your only option was to count the seconds between one wave and the next, each drowning bout of flame lapping at your soul, disintegrating who you were piece by piece. By the time the fire had started to recede you weren’t sure how much time had passed, if time even had meaning. You were amazed your heart had held out under the assault of venom. It started at your extremities, like something in your chest was winching the fire back in, but as the sweet and numbing relief of the cold crept in at your toes the fire in your heart burned hotter. A grunting sound was the first thing you’d heard beyond the screaming in your head for a while, and you realised it was you, desperately fighting back the cry building in your throat as the white hot core in your chest blazed through the last of your humanity.

By the time you slumped back down, your consciousness drifting back to you slowly, you were struggling to remember how you had gotten in this predicament in the first place. Where were you? Who was around you? You wanted Bella, oh you wanted your sister so badly. The air around you felt heavier on your skin, saturated with sharp scents that overpowered your nose and made your tongue tingle when you opened your mouth for that first gasp of air. Your eyes were next to snap open, immediately focusing on the cracks in the wooden beams and the stone ceiling, the dust mites floating in the air. There was an assault of noise next, voices chattering and laughing, birds twittering, cars honking and more, so much more. Hands flying up to your ears, you noticed how it felt different to move, more fluid somehow, and the bright shine in the corner of your eye mad you sit up and move your hand back towards the light.

It glittered. Your hand was crystal, reflecting light and throwing it against the walls where it shattered into rainbow patterns, dazzling your too focused eyes.

“Y/N?”

Danger. Danger danger danger danger danger –

“Felix, give her time…it’s alright young one, we are not here to harm you.” Another foreign voice. You moved so fast everything should have blurred, your body twisting and turning agilely as you shot off of the soft mattress and hit the hard wall with crushing force, stone chipping and falling around you while you dug your nails into the natural rock of the wall. The noise that ripped from your throat was threatening, air rushing up from your lungs and pushing out between your teeth. It shocked you enough to make you freeze, brain scrambling to catch up because there was no way that noise had come from you. Wait, who were you again? Who were they? The voices seemed familiar, but different, their faces to. The men were beautiful in a way nobody should ever be allowed to be, the flawless planes of their faces also reflecting diamond light across the walls as one slowly crept closer to you. Another hiss of air escaped your throat, warning him to stay back.

“Now who needs to give her time.” Felix, that’s what he’d called him…Felix! Your mind dredged up the murky images on demand, and you couldn’t help but frown as you tried to clear the image in your head. It was like watching the memories flow through dirty water, Felix and Demetri helping decorate your room with you, avoiding you in the corridors, no longer talking to you because Alec –

Alec!

“No.” you whispered, startled again into standing up straight, hand flying to your throat as a foreign, bell-like voice rang out. Demetri paused, letting your wild eyes take in the room.

“He is not here Y/N, the Masters’ are punishing him for his…indiscretion, by making him miss your awakening.” Felix chose his words carefully as Demetri slowly continued forward. It was so hard to focus, so much noise, so much to see, so many thoughts spinning rapidly through your mind. It worked faster now, you noticed, your brain working at top speed in a way you knew you’d only achieve with a substantial amount of caffeine if you were still human. Thoughts of Alec consumed you. Where was he? What had become of the boy he had murdered? Would he be kinder to you now you were no longer human? No longer imperfect…

“Y/N, try to focus, I know there is a lot to process right now.” Demetri sounded apologetic almost and your eyes snapped to him.

“I want to go home.” You whispered. Even as you said the words there was an uncomfortable tug in your gut, like something sharp had nicked at your intestines almost. The idea made you uncomfortable.

“What you need right now is to feed.” Demetri amended, his hand gentle on your arm. His words started an inferno in your throat. It was like the worst sore throat you’d ever had multiplied ad infinitum, the burn scorching from top to bottom while your gut twisted horribly. You weren’t just hungry, you were starving.

“Of course that’s what she needs, what newborn doesn’t?” the voice was smooth, so hypnotic you couldn’t help but relax, silently pleading to hear more. If your blood hadn’t already frozen over, you swore it would have upon seeing Alec again. He held what you assumed was the secretary in his arms, given her smart attire, but it was difficult to focus on little else other than the thrumming of her pulse, the tattoo in your brain even more hypnotising than his voice had been. Neither Demetri nor Felix could catch you as you dipped beneath their arms and snatched the body straight out of Alec’s hands, desperate to stop the burning in your throat.

“Y/N don’t!” Demetri’s voice sounded far off, almost like you were listening to him through cotton wool. The sound of blood flowing, a heart thumping…it was far far louder. Your body moved on autopilot, teeth clamping onto soft flesh. After that first burst of sweet, hot blood, your mind went completely blank. The taste was sublime, so intense on your tastebuds like nothing else had ever been. It soothed the fire in your throat some, a torrent of red dousing the flames and soaking your skin. When you could no longer take mouthfuls of the saccharine substance, a needy whine bubbled up in your throat, the tap running dry far too soon for your liking. Your throat still itched.

“Shhhhhh, I know, I know. Do not worry my love, we’ll find you more.” That voice, that hypnotic voice…with the fire in your throat calmed somewhat it was clearer in your ears, helping to ease your desperation and focus your mind some. The fingers in your hair were gentle, the occasionally brush of their skin against yours warm and inviting. You leaned into the tender touch gratefully. There was a scent too, the most intoxicating, fresh linen and pine scent, a hint of something smoky lingering underneath. Inhaling deeply, you let strong arms pull you into a firm chest, taking in lungfulls of that heady scent and letting your turbulent thoughts calm to the rhythm of the fingers running through your hair.

“Alec…”

You gasped slightly, eyes snapping open from your half-lidded gaze. The name had filled you with fear, trepidation, but the sensations surrounding you right now…you were in a safe, hazy little bubble, it was difficult to feel the fear you thought you should. You had totally forgotten he was even in the room and it was no small shock to you that he was the one holding you, that he had created this internal sense of tranquillity you were drowning in.

“I will not let my mate starve, the Masters’ and their punishment be damned.” The smooth bass of a sprightly young voice that filtered in your ears was so similar yet so different. Alec’s voice was nothing short of mesmerising and when you looked up at him his face was just as distracting. Smooth, flawless skin, pale as the moonlight on ocean waves, stretched like an unblemished canvas across high cheekbones and a strong jaw. You could trace the perfect curve of dark eyebrows with your finger, run your hands through the soft tresses of dark hair that framed his face and brushed his eyes. Crimson red eyes peered into your own, softened by adoration and desire.

It was as if your very heart burst forth from your chest to reach out to his. You never wanted anyone else to look at you the way Alec did. Suddenly, nothing he did had mattered, because you were the imperfect one before. This man before you…you saw it now with your new eyes, saw his God-like status for what it really was. You had been unworthy until now. He had elevated you to the same status, was able to love you deeply now.

“Alec.” You breathed his name like it was a quiet prayer. His fingers moved from your hair to your jaw, slowly tracing over your cheekbone with his thumb.

“Welcome back. You are…you’re breath taking.” He gently lowered his forehead to yours and you pushed back lightly, desperate to envelop yourself in the warmth his skin now radiated.

“Really?” you whispered.

“Of course.” Alec promised. You closed your eyes, drowning in his heavenly scent.

“Y/N…you’ll need to feed some more. Perhaps we can then contact the Cullen’s and see about getting you home. We don’t usually allow newborns to stay in the castle.” Demetri spoke up finally, shattering the peaceful quiet surrounding you. That pinching sensation in your gut was back again, your eyes widening. Alec had finally accepted you! You were finally good enough and Demetri just wanted to – to send you away? No. No absolutely not. Any thoughts of going home that you had once entertained were long gone. You couldn’t leave now, not when you had to show Alec how grateful you were, how you were better now like this.

“Do I have to go?” you whispered. Alec shook his head.

“Of course not Y/N, your place is here, with me.” His lips were so soft on your own, a shiver rolling down your spine at the rightness of it. He was your perfect fit. You were made for all of his light and dark, to bear the brunt of his best and worst. You hadn’t been before, but you were ready now, ready to survive his obsession.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

And in the taste confounds the appetite.

Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so.

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. Friar Lawrence, Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 Scene 6, by William Shakespeare

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #alec volturi #alec volturi x female reader #demetri volturi #felix volturi #dark themes #obsession #request

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thewickedkings · 4 years

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Drowning With You

Masterlist || Link to Another Angsty Prompt || Ao3

Description: For the prompt “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” Very angsty in case you couldn’t tell, but it gets better

Warnings: Mentions of death, fainting, and slight mentions of drowning and poison.

It begins as a prickle in Jude’s neck, a faint annoyance she dismisses as she washes her face in the morning. Then it moves to her back and down her arms, an ache in her muscles she assumes is from her strenuous training session with the Ghost the day before. But later in the day, when her limbs begin to stiffen to the point she can barely move and her vision slows into a disoriented languidness, she knows.

Something is very, very wrong.

Fear shoots through her as she begins to lose control of her body. She stumbles out of the library she’s holed herself in for the day and into the hall.

Cardan. She needs to get to Cardan.

Her vision blurs as she pushes against her uncooperative muscles to the throne room. She grits her teeth, squinting to make out the person who has appeared in front of her.

“Your Highness? What’s wrong?” rings Fand’s voice, sounding far away.

“Cardan,” she gasps. “Get… Cardan.” She falls against the wall, needing support before her legs give out. Someone, maybe a guard, grasps onto her arm.

In what feels like seconds, she senses him enter the hall, and she uses the last of her strength to push herself towards him. Cardan catches her in his arms, and finally, she lets her eyes fall shut.

Safe.

Distantly, as though she’s listening from under water, she hears Cardan bark orders at the guards. Then, “Jude, what’s wrong?” Hands move to her face, pushing back her hair, which has at some point become damp with sweat. “Jude, wake up.”

When she doesn’t respond, Cardan begins to shake her. “Jude, wake up.” The desperation in his voice cuts straight to her heart. The urge to comfort him wells up, and yet her reassurances get caught in her throat, her lips unwilling to move.

A familiar voice, the Bomb’s maybe, cuts in, words too fast for her to decipher. Movement, she’s being jostled against someone, and then she’s laid down.

“Her heart’s slowing! Where is the healer?!”

Another pair of hands is on her, opening her mouth and forcing a drink down. “Jude, you have to swallow.”

She forces the muscles in her throat to take the drink.

But her energy is seeping out of her grasp, the tempting pull of death calling her like a siren in the seas. It would be so easy to…

A hand squeezes hers tightly, tethering her to this world. “Jude, Jude, please. You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” A guttural sob rips out. “Please wake up.”

“Breathe, Jude, breathe!” The Bomb’s voice orders. “Breathe in Jude!”

Cardan’s voice is scratchy with desperation, and Jude clings onto it, the familiar cadence of his voice her only anchor. “Jude, please, I will do anything. Just breathe for me.”

She forces an inhale once, and her awareness instantly sharpens. The bed is soft against her back, and she feels wetness against the hand Cardan’s gripping.

Cardan hands tighten around hers. “Again, Jude. Breathe.”

Still, the second breath is harder, her body fighting back, and a wave of exhaustion pulls her under. She fights it with everything she has, but for once, her everything isn’t enough. She feels herself falling back, away from this world.

A sound of pure agony, somewhere between a sob and a whine, rips out of Cardan, and then everything begins to fade.

“The land!” The Bomb gasps. “It healed her last time. We have to try. You, get some dirt, or grass, or anything. Go!”

A moment later, brittle powder is dumped on her chest.

A palm presses onto her, and someone begs, “Please, please, please.”

For a second, everything is still.

Then, a slow, quiet warmth fills her chest, starting with her heart and winding through her body. Strength returns to her limbs, and her fingers twitch against Cardan’s as she inhales, glorious air filling her starved lungs.

Cardan lets out a sob of relief, and his head falls onto her chest, resting against the beat of her heart as she falls into a peaceful slumber.

~~~

Jude floats on the calm seas, her body drifting endlessly. The wind whistles through the salty air, a haunting, aching symphony of grief.

There is no peace here, just waiting. The sky is draped with clouds on the precipice of pouring out their contents. They shift drowsily, parting against the somber sky. Within them Jude sees her mother as she had seen her in the Lake of Masks, watching her from another time, amused by her fragile mortality. Her vision shifts, and then it is Cardan standing in front of her, leering at her.

His voice echoes with venom, spitting out words she has long forgotten. “Do you know what mortal means? It means born to die. It means deserving of death. That’s what you are, what defines you- dying.”

The vision ripples, and the Cardan of the past shifts into present Cardan. She sees him sitting on chair, shoulders slumped, hands grasping onto her sleeping body’s hands. His thumb brushes gently back and forth over her wrist. Shadows linger beneath his eyes, and he looks utterly defeated. Distantly, she feels his hands release hers, a brush of lips against her forehead, and then he pushes out of his seat, fists clenched, and leaves the room.

The waves begin to churn with a cold, brutal anger, the anger of an unrestrained, destructive sea. They careen her body back and forth, water splashing over her face and into her nose. Jude does not panic, simply shutting her eyes and letting herself fall into the inevitable.

~~~

Jude gasps, jerking upright. Her muscles ache with disuse, and she takes in her surroundings. She is in a foreign bed, blankets tucked caringly over her body. The room is sparsely decorated, bare except for the furniture. Besides the bed she’s in, there is a side table, a chair at the side of her bed, and another smaller bed squeezed in the corner, as though brought in after the room was furnished.

In the silence of the room, she senses a taut tension. She’s left the churning sea behind, yet a palpable rage remains in the land.

She swings her feet over her bed and is surprised to see grass growing in little patches of dirt around her bed. Her memory comes rushing back: fainting in Cardan’s arms, him pleading for her to breathe, the dirt on her body restoring her somehow, and then nothing.

She stumbles out of the room, her legs still sore, and bumps into a guard. His eyes widen in surprise. “My queen. You’re awake.”

“Where is the King?” she responds, her voice rough with disuse.

His eyes dart from hers, almost… fearful? “He has left the palace.”

“What?” Jude croaks, a sharp sting of hurt going through her. He left. Cardan left her.

A rush of footsteps comes from the end of the hall, and Jude looks up. Suddenly she’s enveloped in the Bomb’s arms. “You’re awake,” she breathes, voice full of relief.

Jude pulls away, questions flurrying through her. “What happened? Where’s Cardan?”

“Sit down. We need to make sure you’re okay first.”

Once the Bomb pulls her back into her room and forces her to sit and drink water, the Bomb sighs. “You were poisoned. It got through our defenses because it only affects mortals, so everyone else was fine. The Ghost sent news that he had an idea who did it, so Cardan left to find him.” She pauses, hesitant. “I tried to convince him to stay but he’s not listening to anyone.” The Bomb pauses, hesitant. “He’s been… different without you. He’s been impulsive and angry and… broken.”

Jude swallows, remembering his heart wrenching sobs, pleading with her to stay with him. The uncontrollable rage simmering through the land when she had woken up. “I need to see him.”

The Bomb nods in understanding. “I’ll send word immediately. The only reason he left was because he didn’t think you were going to wake up.”

“Why? How long was I out?”

The Bomb looks at her with concern. “Jude, you’ve been out for three weeks.”

~~~

For the rest of the day, after stuffing herself with food and taking a warm bath, the Bomb forces Jude to rest. Her body is still recovering from the toll the poison took on her, and already she feels the urge to sleep, despite having gotten three weeks’ worth of rest.

Jude flops onto bed. “I hate this. I need to do something. I can’t just sit here.”

The Bomb groans. “Jude, I don’t know if you realized this, but you almost died. So please, just do what I say. Cardan will kill me if anything happens to you again.”

She laughs. “Cardan could never. He hates blood.” Still, Jude wonders at the truth in the Bomb’s statement, wonders what lengths he would go to for her despite his aversion to violence.

“But he loves…” The Bomb’s words trail off as her glance catches on something over Jude’s shoulder. “I have to go,” she mutters, and quickly shuffles out of the room. Jude cranes her head to see what had caused her to depart so quickly.

Cardan stands frozen in the doorway, face pale, his gaze locked on Jude. His crown is noticeably absent, his hair windswept from riding. His cloak hangs from his shoulders, and her gaze catches on a splatter of blood marring the velvety cloth. A knife hangs in its sheath against his thigh, peeking out from behind the cloak, and Jude has a feeling he had used it.

“Cardan,” she breathes and stands from the bed, emotion welling in her chest.

He is throat bobs as he walks towards her, as if in a trance, and slowly traces his fingers over her jawline, gently across her neck and down her arm. When he reaches her wrist, his hand stops and his thumb presses to her pulse, its steady beat a reassurance.

“Jude,” he whispers finally, and his hands begin to tremble uncontrollably as they lift up to cradle her face. “Tell me this is real. Tell me this is not a cruel dream.”

Guilt consumes her at the simultaneous hope and fear in his voice. She cannot imagine what it had been like for him these past few weeks.

Tears brim her eyes as she whispers, “I’m here Cardan. This is real.”

His breath hitches, and then his arms retract around her, crushing her into his chest, squeezing her until she can barely breath. His voice is hoarse against her neck. “Do not ever do that to me again. I cannot survive it. I cannot.”

Jude tries not to think too much about the fact that he cannot lie and rubs her arms comfortingly up and down his back, burying her face in the warmth of his neck. They stay like that, wrapped around each other, until Jude remembers the exhaustion in Cardan’s eyes and crawls back up onto the bed, pulling Cardan with her.

When the Bomb finds them the next day, tangled in each other’s arms, she smiles softly and shuts the door behind her.

~~~

A/N: This prompt was supposed to be super short, and then... it turned into this. Be proud of me. Instead of making this super angsty I let Jude live! *cue applause*

Pls comment 🥺🥺 I need some extra serotonin bec school is kicking my butt

Tagging: (let me know if you want to tagged or untagged or if I accidentally tagged you wrong! I don’t mind at all)

@goddess-of-writing @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @amoosewithflannelforfur @aneurwin @mercrutiodidntdieforthis @hizqueen4life @mi-mavencalories @simonelovesff @b00kworm @nope-has-lied @andromeddea @aesthetics-11 @queen-of-glass @runnybabbit9 @afexiss @the-keen-queen @yesimtheslytherinwitch @fizziefaerie @abigneignenn @storiesandschemes @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @words-of-the-wise @thedazzlingheights @magicalbookwyvern @kittkatandbooboo @queen-of-no1 @iminsanenotobsessed @dorkzrul @snusbandxknifewife @aknymph @clouds-and-peonies @thefolkofthefic @snorting-up-pizza @fandomfanatic987 @fandom-will-be-the-death-of-me @cardanslittletail @curlyredqueen06 @losssssstttttt @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @omfglucayababies @judiecardan @woodsbeyond1 @yourroyalbooknerd @ireallyshouldsleeprn @st00pid231 @alittledribbledrabble @nomotivation-lads @herladyshipxx @emmabookworm08 @ducksmurf135 @jurdanhell @booksandothersecrets @fangirlprincess09 @ysitsohardtofindaname

#my writing #jurdan fanfic #jurdan fic #jurdan #tfota #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #tfota fics #600 follower celebration #wow i actually wrote something

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sparklebitch · 4 years

Text

Toxin (Shance angst)

Summary: Shangst where Shrio is holding his poisoned lover, Lance.

A/N: @izanagisbitch requested this over a year ago and I completely misunderstood it and wrote something totally different lol (it's quite a few prompts back. Title: Toxic Love). I was rereading some of my old fics and remembered it. So I wrote what they actually asked for 😂 Again, so so sorry!

Trigger warning: posion, sickness, death mention, super sad feelings

~ ~ ~

The leaves rustled loudly overhead. The wind whipped the branches every which way. Animals all around were scattering, fleeing to their homes.

A storm was approaching.

Shiro didn't notice any of this.

His only focus was Lance's struggling breath.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked for the fourth time. Lance rolled his eyes, but Shiro noticed a bead of sweat roll down his forehead.

"Takashi, you worry too much. I'm alright. It's just a- a stomach ache or something" he assured his worried boyfriend. Shiro held up his hands in defeat, but he wasn't totally convinced.

Shiro and Lance had been on a stroll through a nearby village that evening, seeing as how they would be stuck here for a while. They had arrived for a routine checkup on the planet which had recently joined the alliance, but when they had tried to leave, their ship mysteriously broke down. Coran informed them that it could potentially be a few weeks before he could identify the problem and fix it, so they should make themselves comfortable here.

The walk had started out nice. The weather was pleasant. The villagers were more than welcoming. One had even brought them tea to drink on their walk.

But a few minutes after leaving the village on the small dirt path through the woods, Shiro noticed Lance's breath becoming labored. At first he laughed it off, assuming it was from the large meal they had had, but the longer they were out, the harder it was to deny that something was actually very wrong.

They continued to wander down the path that led from the village through the lush forest that surrounded the civilization. Everything was so pretty. It would've been a perfect night if it hadn't been for Lance's obvious discomfort.

"How long do you think we'll be here?" Lance asked, trying to distract himself, and Shiro, from his pain.

"I'm not sure. Coran hasn't figured out what's wrong with the ship yet" Shiro said. Lance smiled broadly as he closed the gap between their hands. He intertwined their fingers and tugged Shiro closer to his side.

"Maybe we'll be here for years" He said. Shiro frowned at the happiness in Lance's voice.

"That wouldn't be good" he murmured in confusion.

"Oh come on, it would be so fun! We could build a house!"

"Build a- Lance you don't know the difference between a phillips screwdriver and a flathead!" Lance, completely undeterred by this, continued.

"Of course we would have to have a front porch with a swing. And a nice sized backyard where we can plant a garden. I'd like to have two bathrooms, but we could make do with just one" He said to himself. Shrio stared at him in bewilderment.

"Wh-" Lance pressed a finger to Shiro's lips.

"Shh. We're just pretending babe. We're not really going to build a house" he whispered, as if it was a secret. Shiro's eyes softened in realization and he chuckled.

"Oh. Well... then I guess we'd need a decent sized kitchen with an island so I can cook you dinner" he pressed a flirtatious kiss to Lance's knuckles. Lance giggled but cut off in a sudden coughing fit.

The wind picked up around them as they paused for Lance to catch his breath.

"Okay, I think it's time we head back" Shiro said nervously. "You might be getting sick" Lance waved him off, though in his current state, doubled over and hacking up a lung, it wasn't very reassuring.

"I'm..." he coughed sharply. "F- fine" Shiro let go of Lance's hand and shielded his eyes as he looked around them, unsure of which way they had come.

When did they wander off the path?

"Let's- Let's head back the way we came" Shiro suggested. Lance nodded, groping around for Shiro's hand. He was too embarrassed to admit that his vision was blurring.

The two turned around and began their trek back toward the village. It was more difficult than they had anticipated, because of the weather.

Somehow neither of them had noticed how dark it had gotten during their walk. Angry looking dark clouds were looming overhead, threatening to break open and pour down on them.

Shiro's heart rate spiked as he continued to tug Lance along what he thought was the path. Everything around them looked the same. They were lost.

"Shiro..." Lance croaked. His began to stumble along, his head lolling lower and lower with every stop.

Shiro glanced over and thought to himself, "His skin is white as a sheet..." Before either of them could mutter another word, Lance collapsed.

The next thing Lance new he was laying on his side with his head in Shiro's lap. They had moved underneath a tree to shield them from the downpour that had started at some point.

"Wha-" Lance rasped. Shiro let out a loud gasping sigh.

"Lance! Shh... don't try to talk. Just relax. You collapsed" Lance was suddenly aware that his entire body was shaking uncontrollably. He was both too hot and too cold at the same time.

"What... happening?" Shiro has one hand in Lance's hair, and the other was gripping his hand.

"I- I don't know" There was a clap of thunder overhead. "We need to get back to the castle but..." He trailed off, staring up at the scene around them. The storm was so strong that the forrest has seemingly come to life. Trees swaying, limbs falling, debris flying through the air. "I think we'll have to wait out the storm" Despite being fairly well covered, Lance felt large drops of water splashing his exposed skin. "It's all going to be okay."

Lance listened as Shiro called to the others on his communicator. He couldn't make sense of what they were saying. All he knew was that Allura voice was frantic and she kept repeating several words like "poisoned" and "trap." The world continued to flicker in and out of focus for several minutes before Lance found the strength to speak.

"Shiro" Lance mumbled. His voice was barely audible over the howl of the wind. "Shrio, don't let go of me" he pleaded. He didn't want to frighten Shiro, but moments ago he became aware that he couldn't feel any part of his body.

Shiro searches Lance's eyes for the source of his pain, but came up empty. He desperately wanted to fix this, but he had no idea how.

"I'm here, Lance. I'm here. And I'm not letting you go. I'll get you back to the castle. You're going to be okay. Look, I think the weather is clearing up" he said, trying to stay positive. Lance knew it was a lie.

"I love you" Lance said, teary eyed. "Shiro, I love you"

"I- I love you, too" Shiro said through tears. "You're going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay" Shrio searched Lance's face as he tried to think of something to say, something to make this moment a little less scary. He didn't know what was going to happen next, but he was worried that this might be... That this might be the last moments he and Lance had together.

"Hey, we- we should get a dog" Shiro said, wiping the tears out of his eyes. Lance frowned for a moment, and then a faint smile ghosted his face.

"As long as it's a big one. And she'll... need a friend" he said hoarsely. He weakly lifted his hand to reach for Shiro's face, but he didn't have the strength. Shiro saw this and lifted Lance hand for him. He felt Lance's thin fingers brush against the stubble on his cheek.

"We can build a dog house for them" Shiro continued. "And- and we'll paint the whole house blue. The brightest blue. The neighbors will hate us" Lance made a noise that almost sounded like a laugh.

"We'll be happy" his voice was barely audible. He couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.

"Yeah, baby" Shiro said softly. "We'll be happy. Forever. Happily ever after" They both fell silent.

Lance's breaths grew shorter, the pauses between grew longer. His lips fell open as he let out small pained noises. He was in complete agony. The storm continued on around them, though it had let up a bit. Shiro considered making a run for it, but he knew that it was pointless. Lance would never make it. And any movement would cause even more pain for Lance.

It was the hardest decision Shiro ever had to make.

Through the deafening sounds of the rain, Lance could hear Shiro singing softly in his ear.

When the others finally found them, the storm had long passed. The morning light bathed the spot that Shiro and Lance were huddled. Allura sprinted to them with a questioning face.

Shiro cranes his neck to look at her. His face had smears of dirt and tracks of tears. He looked beyond exhausted.

"Shiro...?"Allura said questioningly. Shiro smiled weakly, more tears dripping down his nose, falling onto the boy clutched in his arms. He shook his head, his face breaking.

"He's gone"

#langst #shance #shangst #shiro #lance #voltron #vld #vld lance #vld shiro #prompt #prompts #mine

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magioftheseas · 3 years

Text

Soft Trauma

Summary: Komaeda wakes up, runs away from Hinata, but is caught by Naegi. Among other things.

Rating: T+

Warnings: Hospitalization, severe mental illness, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, some mentions of blood, just pretty messy medical stuff all around. There’s some rough kissing too Ig.

Notes: I’m pretty sure this fic was started in like...2013. 2014. It’s very, very old. I decided to finish it for kicks. Because it’s so old, dr3 just isn’t a blimp and it uses SHSL instead of Ultimate. So old. It’s Komaegi/KomaHina and very angsty. Have fun.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

“Are you alright?” That person asks him, and the look Komaeda is on the end of receiving is...strange, to say the least. He wouldn’t call it particularly caring—but the concern was clear. It was...a very obscured gaze, though it almost softens when Komaeda keeps gaping at him like a lost dog. “It’s...understandable though, right? With everything that’s happened, especially to you... But it’s over now.”

“I... What?”

“I don’t know what else to say to you,” the other continues on, and the softness is gone to be replaced with his expression pinching up. Like this feeble attempt at conversation is starting to cause him pain. “I don’t know... I don’t even know if I can forgive you. Do you remember anything?”

Komaeda doesn’t immediately answer—instead staring curiously at...him. With bizarrely long locks and dull red eyes. The question he asks... Komaeda doesn’t know how to respond to it either way.

But he seems to...understand. “Right. It’s been rough. Never mind. You know what—never mind.” And annoyance sparks through his features as he almost jerks away and stops just in the middle of leaving. “You’re awake. Everyone’s awake. That’s all the matters. It’s over.”

“Over?” he echoes, and the other grits his teeth though Komaeda can’t see it.

“...Komaeda...” Komaeda flinches—because his surname sounds so dry. Like it’s something the other had been avoiding to say for a while. And though he clearly struggles with saying the rest—just Komaeda is enough to leave him near breathless—he continues. “Try and get better soon.”

Komaeda sees him walk out of the room and close the door behind him—but he doesn’t hear a thing. Was that person a ghost? With the way that person looked, it could have been a demon—but no. No, he knows that’s not what that was. Demons don’t show such care, especially for someone like him and...

When he remembers, he rips out his IVs and leaves the hospital room.

To where, he isn’t quite sure. He just stumbles in the direction his legs take him, holding his bandaged stump to his chest and staring at the ground all the while.

He’s still found, of course. But it’s not the person from before. It’s...someone else. Someone he knows but doesn’t fully remember.

“Komaeda-kun, there you are,” His sigh is relieved. Komaeda blinks the blurriness out of his eyes by the time he raises his gaze to the other approaching. Slowly. Carefully. His smile is small. Komaeda skitters back and further away. He still calls for him—but annoyance doesn’t touch his tone. Not like it would if that person—Hinata-kun—were the one to have found him. “Komaeda-kun, please. You need to get back. You’re not well.”

“How do you know that?” he asks in returns, voice too dulled to even manage surprise. “How would you know that? Who exactly are you?”

This brunet—it’s not Hinata-kun—doesn’t lose his smile for Komaeda like so many others. No, he still looks so understanding and it just makes Komaeda’s head spin more. It’s so dizzying, he might just faint and—then the other moves. And his hands are steadying Komaeda so that he doesn’t fall. Komaeda blinks a bit furiously, and for some reason, his heart is racing.

And this is familiar. He knows this feeling. He’s felt it before. He remembers that...

“We...were in school together? We used to see each other quite a bit, right?” He remembers this—between the wretched poisonous memories of her and everything else, he remembers him. It’s fuzzy, but he recalls—though wasn’t he shorter? Softer?

He was still short. Still soft. But so bright. Was he always so bright? Wait—Komaeda picks up a few more pieces—the ones that don’t slice his fingers open and drip with his blood—and he puts them together. Back then, this person had been...

“We were almost friends,” the other says, wistfully and almost mournfully. It’s strange. He almost sounds like he regrets that almost. He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t. “We were in separate classes, Komaeda-kun, but I did see you every now and then. Do you remember? You...” Here he laughs, more like chuckles a bit weakly. “You were the one who cushioned my fall when I tripped on one of the staircases. I was terrified because I thought you were seriously hurt.”

Komaeda slumps a bit and he shoves the other away, stumbling back as his hand shakily goes to the scars his hair hides. The other sees and his frown deepens as he approaches him again. Like he was approaching some scared, wounded animal. And Komaeda, really...

He wants so badly to be held.

“Naegi-kun,” he says—voice blank and empty but with trembling limbs reaching for the shorter, softer other. His voice scratches against his throat, raw and painful, but he can’t stop saying his name, “Naegi-kun.”

Naegi crosses the distance with ease and wraps his arms around him, whispering sweet condolences into his ear while he has to pretend said comfort doesn’t burn him like dabs of alcohol against his wounds.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Naegi murmurs, and Komaeda freezes when he easily puts together what that is. But Naegi holds him tighter so that his pieces don’t fall apart. “It’s done. You can move forward, just like everyone else.”

Komaeda sighs; nuzzles against him as his hand and wrist press into Naegi’s back. Naegi strokes his hair like it isn’t a knotted filthy mess thick with dust. Contrarily, Naegi smells fresh and clean—and that scent is almost suffocating.

As awkward as it is with their different heights, Komaeda buries his face in Naegi’s shoulder further. For now, the warmth is enough. For now.

Naegi leads him back to his room by hand—like a parent guiding their child. Komaeda keeps his head down, though every so often his eyes flicker up just enough to observe the curve of Naegi’s cheek and the shape of his slightly tilted profile. He also thinks he’d like to see Naegi turn to face him completely, and then he wonders how much he’d see if he was closer...

And he winds up so disgusted with himself his head drops back down and stares hard at the ratty shoes on his feet he used to be fond of.

“Komaeda-kun,” Naegi asks him softly as he glares down at himself. Komaeda makes a sound of acknowledgment, but he refuses to look at the other facing him. “We’re almost there.”

He hums in response, and Naegi continues. “I was thinking... I’m going to stay with you a little longer. I’d rather not leave you alone right now, honestly.”

Komaeda’s breath catches, but he only shakily nods instead of making a comment. Naegi must notice—the way his pale trembling hand tightens around his smaller, firmer one. Komaeda doesn’t have to see his face to hear the smile in his voice. “Alright then. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to tell me. And don’t worry—I’m not going to leave you unless that’s what you really need.”

You should though. You need to leave the first chance you get, Naegi-kun. I don’t need...

Komaeda can’t say that though—and the only thing keeping him from sinking is Naegi’s warm grip wrapped around him.

The problem isn’t the fuzzy memories of the younger SHSL Lucky Komaeda knew and then a little more... The problem is that Komaeda can’t stop thinking about Hinata.

Komaeda already tries so hard not to think about Hinata as he was in the stimulation. Hinata, who had a smile for him that disappeared as soon as it appeared—and yet he continued to approach him anyway. Hinata tried so hard to understand even when it was clear he never would. Hinata was nothing special. Hinata was too plain, too average, and ended up far too important.

But wasn’t Naegi like that as well? Plain? Average? Far too important? But, shamefully, the main difference was...

“Komaeda-kun, I got you some water. It’s cold like you wanted.” Naegi opens the door, handing him the chilly open bottle for Komaeda’s trembling hand to take. He smiles brightly, warmly, and Komaeda wonders if the water is magnifying the blush he feels rising on his face. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Y-Yeah. Thank you, Naegi-kun.” He really is grateful, but the revelation comes as no less of a sinking feeling of dread. Naegi’s widening smile only certifies it.

Hinata-kun won’t smile like that for me anymore. But it’s not like I deserve it. Naegi-kun’s just being kind. He’s kind to everyone, no matter how awful or wretched they are. Still...

The gratitude and dread mix with something else and he begins to feel sick. Naegi responds to his thanks with a sweet comment of “it’s no problem”, but... It really is a problem. He feels sick.

He’s not going to say anything about it, though.

Naegi sees him and spends a lot of time with him. As much as he can. If Naegi ends up caught in something else, he still sends his wishes to Komaeda through either a letter or Kirigiri who sometimes checks up on him too. Kirigiri is nice when she relays the message but she looks at Komaeda a little too carefully—and he knows her talent far too well.

Though Kirigiri isn’t so bad to talk to—she’s good at relaying information on things Komaeda is shamefully unaware of.

“Your other classmates have been recovering well—so we don’t have to focus so much on them. Hinata-kun’s been making the process easier, too.” Komaeda nods at this, and can’t even remember if he asked for this information. Everything’s been in a blur lately. But Kirigiri continues on informingly—how his classmates have been pulling through, and how even despite the awful memories that Komaeda’s too afraid to touch, they...still manage. Somehow. Though it’s not likely going as well as it sounds.

Not that Komaeda really wants a clarification. But Kirigiri tells him anyway, and he politely listens until...

“Hinata-kun asked about you the other day.”

He freezes, one good hand clenching bone-white in the sheets as he stares down at the wrinkles bleeding through and tries to avoid looking at the bandaged stump of a wrist where his other hand used to be. After a while, he shakily asks, “W-What did he say, Kirigiri-san?”

“He asked if you would be able to leave your room anytime soon. When he should expect you to be discharged.” She reached out, smoothing the tenseness of his fist with her gloved fingers. A gesture Naegi would do. “I told him that if—when that happened, he wouldn’t have to worry. Naegi-kun would still be keeping a close eye on you, as well as the rest of the future foundation.”

Komaeda loosens his grip on the sheets, not even attempting a smile as he responds in a dull voice, “Naegi-kun really troubles himself a lot over me, as does Hinata-kun. I’d prefer it if they didn’t. But at least he won’t have to worry about it after all, right Kirigiri-san?”

“If you mean Hinata-kun, then I’m not sure about that. He still looked unsure, which makes sense. Even as I explained more thoroughly, he looked unsure.” She’s blunt in her explanations—observational and unbiased. Even if the explanation makes him feel uneasy, he appreciates that she’s so concise. “Do you want to know anything else?”

“Not really.” He’s a bit blunt himself. He gets that. “Thank you, Kirigiri-san.”

She gives him a slight smile, but it’s one that has him seize up for a moment. Because he recognizes this expression. He’s never talked to Kyouko Kirigiri before encountering her as SHSL Despair, but he knows almost instinctively that he’s seen this look. Considering who she is, it isn’t hard to figure out where.

“Is something wrong, Komaeda-kun?” The smile is gone, and she looks a little worried. Komaeda immediately shakes his head.

She’s still being kind. The last thing I should do is upset her.

“Don’t worry about it. I just... My mind went blank for a moment. Please don’t worry about it, Kirigiri-san.” He winces when he says her surname like that, and her expression doesn’t change. His heart raced with the very real possibility she saw through him anyway—but then she only nods.

“It seems we’re going to have to keep a better eye on you,” Kirigiri notes, almost sighing. “Though Naegi-kun’s optimistic about you, Komaeda-kun.”

He almost laughs at that, a smile cracking at his dry lips. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from SHSL Hope. I envy him—being able to retain such faith in someone like me...”

Kirigiri doesn’t say anything in response. But she takes the water by his stand and refills it. Then she rummages through the cabinets to find the appropriate medicine to take with it. Komaeda’s smile starts to fade.

“Here,” she offers, and he takes it immediately, swallowing down the pills with large gulps of the clean, cold water.

His stomach churns unpleasantly, but he thanks her politely all the same.

He ends up vomiting just as Naegi returns, and Naegi rubs soothing circles into his back and holding back his hair as he heaves over a trashcan. It helps because Naegi immediately shushes any self-deprecation that falls from his lips like further bile.

“We’ll get you something for nausea, Komaeda-kun.” Naegi says kindly, handing him some napkins to wipe his mouth off. Komaeda does so, and Naegi starts tugging him to get to the bathroom so that he can brush his teeth. Or maybe Naegi’s going to do that for him. The thought drags him down.

“You know,” Naegi murmurs as he helps him walk. “It’s alright to lean on me if you need it.”

Komaeda does. Though all it does is help him fall further.

No matter what medication they give him, the sickness never fades either way.

Things get worse when his dreamless nights disappear. He ends up dreaming a lot more than he wants—remembering things he really doesn’t want to think too much about.

His death in the stimulation comes up a lot—and it’s bizarre because he’d been resolute in the procedures. He wasn’t scared of dying, not if it was for a purpose. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt—that he didn’t scream through the tape over his mouth. That he didn’t nearly choke through tears the second his lungs were filled with that poison.

That he didn’t have regrets and at the time, couldn’t stop thinking about...

...Hinata showed up in his dreams too. Hinata taking his hand as he pulled him up from the beach. Hinata fretting so much as they walked that he kept bumping shoulders with him. Hinata standing before him, looking torn with wariness and worry, and Komaeda unable to stop thinking that he might really...

Hinata with long black hair and red eyes piercing into him. Red. Red eyes. Red eyes piercing into him—red nails digging into him.

Komaeda halts his thoughts then and there and proceeds to risk overdose on sleeping pills so that he can pass out and fall into the void rather than getting dragged down there.

Admittedly that wasn’t the best option.

“Komaeda-kun, if you’re having trouble with sleeping, just say so!” Naegi actually looks angry—frazzled and...worried. Was he scared? It was just a few more days spent hospitalized, thankfully, and while it’s a bit disappointing, Naegi still... “Please. You have to say something when something is wrong.”

He really doesn’t understand and Naegi’s voice gets softer. “I don’t know how much you remember what happened at the academy—but I do. I don’t want it to happen again. I don’t want to see anyone go through that ever again. Especially not you—not again.”

“Naegi-kun...” His voice still sounds dead to his own ears and that just makes it worse. Naegi actually starts to shake as he reaches forward to grip Komaeda’s left wrist. His grasp is careful, wary of the bandages, and Naegi’s gaze just lowers.

“Were you having trouble with nightmares? Did you get scared?” Naegi questions these things quietly, gentle but coaxing. Komaeda feels bogged down with each soft word permeating his mind. “If you need to talk to someone, I’m here. Please. I want to help you—and I want you to want...”

I want you.

Komaeda silences him by placing a hand on his cheek, shushing him carefully, and Naegi looks eager to hear him unwind. To hear him spill everything he needs to—and Komaeda knows he’s only going to disappoint so he apologizes beforehand. “You don’t have to forgive me, Naegi-kun.”

And before Naegi can say anything else, Komaeda presses his mouth to his.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against Naegi’s slack, surprised lips before pulling away. “I’m really, really sorry.”

Naegi sucks in a breath, fights back the urge to bring his fingers to where he’d been kissed, and only smiles like he always does for Komaeda. It makes his heart hurt even more. “It’s fine. It’ll be alright, Komaeda-kun.”

There’s a tremor that goes through his body at those words. But Naegi’s perfectly willing to let it drop. He doesn’t say anything else and well, Komaeda won’t say anything, either.

Even though, if he remembers correctly, that was the first time he ever kissed someone. And to think, it was something he used to dream about a lot about. Having someone he would kiss—kissing Naegi in particular. Something he once accepted as an event that would never happen.

Disgusting.

The day Naegi insists he gets up and walks around to stretch his legs is the one he wants to stay in bed the most. But only because otherwise, he really doesn’t care as long as he doesn’t risk having to perhaps encounter his old classmates. It’s cowardly, of course, but he can’t...

He gives in but refuses to use a crutch so Naegi sticks by just a bit closer. He would have been with him anyway—no one trusts him, after all. It’s fine, as awful as it is, Komaeda likes that Naegi’s there. He’s a good stable point after all. SHSL Hope.

His lips sometimes burn with the memory of the kiss. But that was with Naegi-kun, not SHSL Hope. But Naegi-kun is...

“Careful, Komaeda-kun,” Naegi steadies him as he stumbles, sighing as Komaeda meekly apologizes. “It’s fine. I’m not mad. Just worried.”

Naegi’s always worrying about others he really should be more apprehensive of. Especially when that other is Komaeda. Considering that he still wants, no matter how much he tries to crush that yearning, Naegi really should be more uneasy than he is.

For some reason, it’s hard to say all that. So Komaeda just nods along and they keep on walking through the long, solitary corridor. The light shines in through the windows on the left side of the hall, filtering onto the tiles, and because he needs to stop looking at the ground to not look at Naegi, he glances out of them as they pass.

He stills to a dead stop in his tracks.

The first thing he notices is someone who has to be Owari, swinging her arms out and slamming them against a laughing Nidai. Even though she looked different—thinner because Komaeda remembers that she was the one who—there was no doubt it was her. They were being cheered on by Sonia, Mioda, and Souda as Tsumiki remained safely on standby tucked under the tree covers. Hanamura was given access to the grill, making what were probably lewd comments under To—the Impostor’s careful gaze. Koizumi and Saionji were chattering animatedly, and Kuzuryuu and Pekoyama were close together as well. Tanaka was more separated from them, though he wasn’t alone as he was just giving bits of food to the birds picking at the ground before him. No, not one of them was really alone.

Except. Where is...?

Souda turns to greet the upcoming presence. Long black hair was done in a braid—who did that, Komaeda wondered—and Ibuki is the first to rush up and tackle the other into a hug. He turns around to his other classmates—no, associates—and once Komaeda sees his face, his mind goes completely blank.

With his smile bright and wide and eyes shut as the rest of the group greets him and gathers around him, there’s no doubt for a moment that it’s him. Hinata-kun. He can’t hear what they’re saying or what Hinata’s saying, of course, but with Hinata’s grin on full display, he doesn’t feel like he needs to.

Hinata never was good at starting conversations, but his expressions were enough. Happy beams to let everyone know he was content—alert focus to show he was in deep thought or carefully listening. Uncertain frowns to show his worry. Gritted grimaces to challenge. Komaeda watches the emotions flicker across his face as keenly now as he did then.

That smile, though. It’s not one he’s witnessed often—mostly if not only small, almost sheepish grins accompanying shy gratitude. Ones that Komaeda could easily return back then. Back then. Now, though...

“They look like they’re having fun,” Naegi notes and it almost makes him flinch. Komaeda feels cold sweat run down his cheek as the younger gives him an easy grin that’s just like his—just like Hinata’s—and... “How about we join them?”

Hinata-kun won’t smile like that for me anymore. And it’s not like I don’t deserve it. But...

“Aren’t you going?” Hinata, looking at him warily and yet expectantly, and Komaeda could only smile. He can’t now, even as he says the same thing now as he did then.

“I’m not so unaware of my position that I can just walk out there... If I did that, I’d just ruin the mood.” The words come out easily, and he turns away from both Naegi and Hinata, staring back down at the cold tiled floor. “It’s nice that you think it’s so easy, Naegi-kun.”

“Komaeda-kun, it’s...” And because Komaeda can’t bear to hear him say how fine it is when it’s not—he just snaps.

So it ends up this way, with him pinning Naegi to the wall and desperately trying to connect their mouths together as he tries so hard to ignore the heat from the window beating down on his back.

It ends up wrong. He apologizes profusely when his chapped lips scratch against Naegi’s softer ones. But he pulls the other close when Naegi just gives his sweet, forgiving smile, and their mouths rub almost painfully together with his disgusting continuous indulgence. It’s like he’s starving and this is the only thing that fills his stomach—but the necessity is distorted into greed and at this point, Komaeda doesn’t even care if this overabundance causes his insides to collapse—he just needs.

So it’s more like a drug. A drug. Disgusting. Disgusting.

“Komaeda-kun,” Naegi sighs. Komaeda nips at his lip, teeth gently tugging at them and hands beginning to tremble as he reaches to thread his fingers through soft brown hair. “Komaeda-kun, it’s okay.”

No, it’s not. Komaeda shakes his head before pressing his mouth to his, muting anything else from coming out. Don’t. It’s not.

Naegi responds, pressing back and steadying him with hands on his shoulders. Somehow that undoes him even more—and Komaeda gives a desperate moan.

“It’s alright,” Naegi pushes him away gently when he presses into him harder, the meeting between their lips nearly suffocating even as he greedily tries to take in more. Komaeda’s breathing harshly, drinking gulps of air and trembling like an addict going through withdrawal. It’s disgusting. It must be sickening to look at.

“I-I’m...” His forehead falls into the curve of Naegi’s shoulder. His neck hurts from having to lean, but he can only pull the other closer. “I’m... I’m...”

Naegi holds him in the hallway like he did the first day, the same gentle comfort and loving condolences. He strokes his hair, careful not to get caught on any unsightly knots, and Komaeda’s shaking in his arms like a leaf. It’s too bright—the light from the window, he can’t stand looking at it.

Naegi must somehow notice because he tugs Komaeda back to his room a little later with not much else.

He pulls Naegi practically on top of him when he’s back on his bed, connecting their mouths and needing this far more than he needs the image of Hinata’s bright smiling face on someone with long black hair. There are other things too—how this feels like compensation for a time before all that, those memories he does have of Naegi where Hinata isn’t there. This isn’t a surprise because Hinata is not and was never an elite.

He’s nothing special. No talent. And yet.

“Komaeda-kun, enough,” Naegi parts from him, placing his fingers over Komaeda’s quivering lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what? What is there to talk about?” Komaeda asks, attempting a smile but it withers on the spot. He wants to run a hand through his hair, but doing so would require relinquishing the grip he has on Naegi’s shirt. He shakes his head at the idea, though it makes Naegi’s frown deepen a bit. “It’s impudent though, isn’t it, that I’m even doing this. It’s audacious, unthinkable, and I don’t know why I...”

“Komaeda-kun, it’s alright.”

“Why do you always say that? As much as I respect you, Naegi-kun, even I know you’ve got that wrong. It’s not alright.” Komaeda laughed, wheezy and awful and it hurt his throat. Naegi doesn’t even look afraid, not like Hinata did. “It’s not alright because I’m still here. I’m still alive. After everything I’ve done, I should be dead by now—I think I ought to be dead.”

Naegi grips his shoulders, and before he can so much open his mouth to form a denial, Komaeda continues so that he can’t. “I know what I’ve done, and...when I remembered after you found me the first time... I managed to put the pieces together. I somehow managed to piece together the full extent of what I’d done. All I ever did was play into her hands. Again. I was used by her—that person I hate more than anything...and I let her dig her nails into me and squeeze.”

She always held him so tight with silk-laced steel in her tone and hands.

And I didn’t even try to fight her—I didn’t even try. I just let her do as she wanted—helped her achieve what she wanted, I just... I just...

At some point, he just stopped struggling. He just let her do...as she wanted...

“Komaeda-kun!” Naegi exclaimed, and Komaeda was only vaguely aware of why. He was curled in on himself—arms wrapped around himself as tremors wracked his body without relent. His breathing quickened, grew heavier, and his face was wet with sweat and what might be tears. Naegi shouted his name again, and he curled in tighter, beginning to hiccup and hyperventilate.

I’m not dead. Yet he’s never felt less alive in his life. He’s choking on air, feeling like an old coat being yanked in different directions with each worn, ugly thread severing, and despite there being pain—his chest hurts, his throat hurts, his joints are starting to hurt—he’s losing more and more of himself with each passing second. Not dead. Not. I’m not dead.

He hears something. Naegi trying to get to him? But it’s dark, he’s not sure, and he doesn’t know—what’s even going on. I’m not dead. But. But... I should be. I really should be. I meant to be. I wanted...wanted...

Then he just stops thinking. It’s too dark.

He wakes up exhausted. The IVs are back in his arm. His body feels like lead. More than anything, he wants to fall back asleep. Never wake up again until it was better. If it got better.

But I’m not dead.

Komaeda lifted his head weakly, wiping off his forehead and blearily blinking at his bandaged stump of a wrist as it rested calmly against the sheets. There wasn’t any blood anymore—there used to be so much blood. His head really was starting to hurt. He needed to take something for that.

Oh, and something for his earlier freak-out. That probably worried Naegi. He doesn’t want to do that again: worrying Naegi...

Nae...gi.

Where’s Naegi-kun?

On cue the door opens, and Komaeda turns with an immediate smile. One that immediately falls from his lips as his jaw goes slack and curls fall before his eyes.

“Komaeda,” Hinata wets his lips, hand squeezing the knob of the door before he ultimately lets himself in, closing it with his back. “I...was told that you...”

This isn’t a joke, is it? I know you’re cruel, Luck, but this is...pushing it. I don’t like it. I’m not happy with this—this is surely bad luck and that’s not fair... But Komaeda forced a smile again, and his giggle sounded painful even to his ears. “Good morning, Kamukura-kun.”

Hinata stilled, and Komaeda saw anger flicker across his features—no, more like a kind of fury—but then Hinata steeled himself, yanking his hand through the long black locks and muttering, almost inaudibly to himself...something. Komaeda couldn’t make it out, not really. Just as he was about to comment on it though, Hinata cut him off with a snarl of his surname.

“Komaeda, just what the hell...” Hinata glared, head lowered and gaze almost glowing beneath his brow. A warning sign—one that would have been frightening considering the face. Hinata’s never made it before and, in all honesty, the actual Kamukura’s expression was threatening in a sense, sure, but more a perpetual state than anything else. Not to mention back then, Komaeda outright laughed at that face. Somehow he manages to laugh again here and it makes Hinata nearly tremble. But he doesn’t say anything, so Komaeda starts.

“You can here for something.” Even with a smile on his face, his voice sounds cold. He feels cold, too, and Hinata even froze with those crimson eyes going wide. He looked more like Hinata with that face. Komaeda’s tone grew icier. “What, exactly, was it that you wanted?”

“I...” He hesitates long enough.

“If you don’t know, then you should leave. Come back when you do, you know?” Komaeda nearly rose his arm to gesture, but stopped dead when he realized it was the wrong one. So he gives up on that and thankfully doesn’t stumble on his next words. “I’ll be here when you do. Perhaps.”

Hinata snaps out of his surprise and glowers again, and he almost reminds Komaeda of a cat in the way he puffs out with ire. It’s actually cute. Komaeda giggles into his hand and that irritates him further because of course, it would.

“I-I...” It’s strange Hinata hasn’t left yet. He usually would have at this point. Instead, it’s like his feet are still rooted to the floor, which is extra strange because Komaeda really would prefer it if he just stormed out like he always does when his tolerance for Komaeda runs low.

Perhaps he wants answers. He didn’t ask for them last time and now is the perfect opportunity. I’ll give them to him, too, if he just asks. Maybe if I make that clear, he’ll...

“Hinata-kun, if you want...”

“I was worried about you.”

Komaeda stills, expression blank with confusion. Hinata seemed to blurt that out without thinking. And before Komaeda could brush it off with an easy ‘no worries’, it was like Hinata snapped in that moment he was taken off-guard by the statement.

Because, abruptly after saying that, Hinata was shouting. “I was worried! I thought something happened when I heard about you blacking out after a panic attack and I—I got fucking scared alright?! You were out of it for days. I didn’t know if you were going to wake up! I was worried sick about you, Komaeda, and considering the shit you pulled, I really shouldn’t have been!”

Hinata spews it all in one breath and at the end of his rant, he’s panting, breathing heavily, and Komaeda can only stare at him blankly. A little bit later and Hinata chokes out an aggravated sound, covering his face with the action. He shakes a bit again, like despite allowing his outburst, that heavy weight on his shoulders remained, and if Komaeda had been in the right frame of mind, he’d be disappointed. Or would that have been wrong?

Though he does agree that, “You...really shouldn’t have been, Hinata-kun.”

“So you did know,” Hinata darkly laughs behind his hand. He really does sound tired and sick of this. It’s not an unfamiliar reaction to Komaeda—he’s seen it before in countless other people but... “You’re such a piece of work.”

Komaeda can no longer look at him. Instead he’s looked at his bandaged wrist again, lying without worry on the sheets over his lap. There’s nothing to hide anymore, he thinks. He also thinks he really needs to have these bandages replaced. “I’m...fine now, Hinata-kun. Thank you for worrying about me.”

It’s just the polite thing to say. He isn’t sure if he means it or not—not that it matters, because Hinata can’t read him anyway. He even has that much more familiar look of frustration on his face at Komaeda’s platitudes. Nothing’s really changed.

“I really don’t get you.”

But at least...

“You try,” Komaeda manages a smile, and he actually feels it’s a bit more genuine this time. “That’s more than I can ask for.”

“Just like with Naegi-kun, right?” Enoshima sing-songs. “You’re still so desperate for affection, Komaeda-kun.”

...wait.

Enoshima giggles brightly from where she was laying her head upon on his bed as Komaeda turns slowly to look at her. She smiled up at him, continuing cheerily. “Some things never change. In fact, isn’t this situation exactly the same?”

It was the same. Exactly the same.

“First Naegi-kun...” Naegi, who was nice to everyone no matter how wretched they were. Naegi still smiled for him even now.

“Now Hinata-kun...” Hinata was smiling so brightly with everyone else earlier. He’ll never smile for him like that though, never.

Enoshima’s smile widened, her index finger tracing shapes into his thigh. “Even though you went through the trouble of opening up to another person, the result is still the same. Isn’t that a shame?”

It wasn’t just random shapes actually. She was tracing letters. She was spelling it out.

“But now you have two people so I guess it isn’t all bad. Naegi-kun’s finally letting you do what you want, Hinata-kun’s even running after you... You could have it all right about now. So I guess it’s not so bad...”

She reaches for his hand—a hand that not only mirrors her own but is her own—and their fingers entwine impeccably. Enoshima held it tight, painted pink lips pulling into her brightest, loveliest beam. “But we know how this ends, don’t we Komaeda-kun? Don’t worry though, when you’re lost again after those two both end up leaving you, I’ll be there. I’ll even hold you, if you want—I’m not going to leave you, Komaeda-kun...”

It’s certain—that’s right. I trust my luck, but... “You lost.”

She lost. She’s gone—she’s dead and she’s never coming back. This is wrong—she’s wrong. I’m not dead—this is wrong. I’m not dead, I’m not... I...

I want...

“Komaeda?!”

Komaeda’s eyes shot open, and Hinata’s face was...close. Over him. Looking stricken and then relieved when he blinked several times in confusion. Held. He...was being held? Hinata’s arms are tight and warm around him, he can hear his heartbeat, and why was he on the floor in this embrace when he should be in his bed?

“Komaeda,” Hinata says, voice hushed before he lets out a heavy sigh. “You lied.”

But she lost. I’m not dead. I want...

“You’re not fine now. You said you were—you aren’t.” He’s all matter-of-fact and weirdly upset about it. But he’s still holding onto Komaeda tight like he’s worried letting him go will allow him to slip away. As if Komaeda has some other place to be other than locked up in a hospital room with only Naegi as his sole...contact.

Hinata-kun’s here though? Yes, Hinata was here holding him. Naegi. Where was Naegi?

“I... Hinata-kun?” His expression changes, from that weird upset to pity, and Komaeda’s handled more carefully than glass as he’s lifted up—almost effortlessly on Hinata’s end, when was he this strong? Surely not Kamukura—and Hinata lays him back on the bed, only flickering his uneasy glance to the unhooked tubes fluttering by the machines once before looking away in distress. “Hinata-kun, where is Naegi-kun?”

Hinata’s gaze snaps back to him, wide-eyed surprise before hardening into something cooler. “I’ll tell you if you give me some answers first.”

Ah...huh? “Hinata-kun, you could have just asked...”

“They have to be good answers too!” What constituted as a good answer? But Hinata explained that. “I mean, I have to actually understand what you’re trying to say rather than you getting all wishy-washy like you always do...”

The frown on Komaeda’s face might have softened him a bit—making that sternness on his face fade, because Hinata adds in a much quieter voice, “Just answer me as directly as you can, please? I want to understand.”

Komaeda does nod, and the other takes a deep, deep breath.

“Did you really want me dead?” Hinata asks, still all quiet. “Did you want us all dead? Did you really want everyone including yourself dead so badly?”

It’s strange. Strange. “I...did. I wanted...”

To eradicate despair. To spare the world from more suffering. To end it. If I could. If it was in my cards. Everything I did played into that girl’s hands.

“Got’cha,” Hinata sounds both like he expected the answer yet it still managed to disappoint him. How boring. Komaeda cracked a weak smile despite himself. “Well, you didn’t get what you wanted.”

“Not entirely true. After all,” He turned that weak smile to Hinata, managing to make it a bit wider. “That girl isn’t here, is she? She’s gone. And she’s not coming back. I don’t even have her hand anymore. Of course—I didn’t get to kill her either. I didn’t even get to see her again.”

That’s right, that’s right, that’s...

“That’s for the best.” Hinata sounded sure about that. Truly...strange. “Meeting her was an unpleasant experience. You wouldn’t have liked it anyway.”

Komaeda laughed, and oddly...Hinata didn’t look scared. He still had that look of stern certainty and...strange. Strange. Was this really Hinata? This face... Komaeda isn’t even fully sure he knows or recognizes it. “Well, it’s a shame. But that’s that. It’s not like it wasn’t a possibility I’d die first.”

“You didn’t die.”

“I didn’t, did I? I failed on that account too.” Everything I did played into that girl’s hands. But she’s not here anymore. She’s not. “I...I want to see Naegi-kun.”

“Not yet.” Hinata has the decency to look somewhat ashamed, but his expression quickly hardens. “There’s another thing I wanted to ask. Nanami. Are you aware of what happened to Nanami?”

“That was after I died, how am I supposed to know?” Komaeda whined. “Obviously, I’m aware she wasn’t actually there, but that’s it.”

“That’s it?” For whatever reason, Hinata quirked an eyebrow.

“That’s...” He swallows and nods so hard that it hurts. “That’s it.”

She wasn’t real. My efforts were utterly pointless after all. All I did was play into her hands. Are you asking me about Nanami Chiaki to make fun of me?

No—Hinata wouldn’t do that.

He must have just really cared about her.

Ha.

Haha.

Hahaha.

“I want to see Naegi-kun.” It’s funny, how he’s trying to smile and the efforts leave him shaking. “I want to see him, I want to see him, I want to see him.”

Hinata stares back at him. If his desperate face is being reflected back at him in those crimson pools—he doesn’t want to see it, so his eyes squeeze shut.

“I answered your questions,” he whispered, pitiful and childish. “Or is there something else? I would call you impudent, but given the circumstances... It’s just what I deserve, right?”

He hears Hinata’s intake of breath. He doesn’t want to think about what expression Hinata might be wearing.

“It’s not about that.”

“Why not?” He must come across as such a child. Such a stupid child. “Don’t you hate me, Hinata-kun? Surely you must. Not only did I try to get you all killed, but I was also just... I was horrible. From start to finish. I spoke of hope but I must have brought such despair. Not just to you, but to everyone, to...”

To Naegi-kun, too. I don’t have the right to be alive. Not when so many others aren’t.

Hinata just sighs. Like this outburst is nothing more than a dull annoyance. It’s enough of an insult that Komaeda opens his eyes, realizing then that his vision has gone blurry with tears. It even stings and wiping his eyes with his ruined arm surprisingly doesn’t do much.

“You weren’t horrible at first. You helped me out a lot,” Hinata mutters. He’s almost awkward about it, but shamefully, the tears won’t stop coming so Komaeda can’t look at him properly. Despite that... Despite this shameless, despicable display... Hinata places a hand on his shoulder. It’s warm to the point of searing. “I don’t hate you. Not anymore, anyway.” His hand pulls away, and Komaeda can’t catch it. “I’ll...go get Naegi.”

And because he can’t fathom having the gall to ask the other to stay, he lets his left arm fall. But... But, but, but...

“Thank you.” The blur that is and isn’t Hinata-kun pauses at the doorway. “For not...hating me. I really am sorry about everything, Hinata-kun. I’ll... I’ll try not to get in your way anymore.”

Maybe, Hinata turns to face him. Maybe he doesn’t. Komaeda can’t tell, not when he’s forcing a smile as the tears keep on running.

“P... Please take care.”

It’s funny. Hinata almost sounds choked up. That must be a mistake. It couldn’t possibly be. Couldn’t.

Let’s not think about it anymore.

Naegi brings with him a box of tissues. Kind, considerate Naegi. How wonderful he is—how wonderful he has always been.

If only I fell in love with you properly, Komaeda can’t help but think. He blows his nose, and there are flecks of blood in the tissue. They’re as red as Hinata’s eyes now. Before all this... I wish I had fallen for you properly, Naegi-kun.

“You’re so nice,” he can’t help but mourn. “I wonder if that’s because you’re SHSL Hope.”

“Oh, no,” Naegi laughs so easily. “I’m still as normal as I’ve always been.”

Turning her away when the rest of the world fell to her heels isn’t normal.

“Naegi-kun...” He dabs at his eyes before crumbling up the tissue in his hand. “To someone like me, you’re a superhero.”

“I’m just a guy, I swear.” He believed Naegi meant that. So, what was he supposed to think? “Komaeda-kun, I...” What was he supposed to think when Naegi looked uncomfortable, not just uncomfortable but unsure. “I want to help you not just because we were schoolmates, once, but because it’s just the right thing to do.”

What was he supposed to say to that?

Perhaps... Naegi-kun is exceptionally foolish. But...

“You wouldn’t be yourself if you abandoned anyone,” he murmured, a sardonic smile pulling at his lips. “I hate that. I hate that so much. It actually makes me feel even lower than trash.”

“S-Sorry!” Naegi really does look so apologetic. “I didn’t want to make you feel bad!”

“Of course not,” Komaeda sighed, and because Naegi was so close, because Naegi was hovering, Komaeda had the opportunity to kiss his cheek. And he took it. Inelegant and quick, a soft smack of his lips when the pressed against Naegi’s soft, round cheek. “Actually, you make me feel so good that I feel even worse. There’s no winning with someone like me. I’m just the worst, huh?”

He keeps talking, but Naegi is flushed so brilliantly. It’s funny.

He does look normal like this.

“I’m the worst,” he reiterates, and he wants to cry again but he can’t stop himself, “I like you—a lot. I love you, even.”

It’s normal to be afraid of rejection, he thinks, heart pounding so painfully. It’s normal, normal, normal, that’s why I can’t...

He can’t take it. Not here. Not like this.

Not when Naegi is smiling at him like that.

“Komaeda-kun... I...”

Not when Naegi speaks so softly, so gently, so sweetly—and takes Komaeda’s hand, squeezing. Just like how Hinata had squeezed his shoulder before.

No, exactly like that.

Just like that, he can’t bear to think about it anymore.

#Magi Fics #KomaHina #Komaegi #nagito komaeda #komaeda nagito

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gwynrielendgame · 3 years

Text

Sad nessian part 2

This is a real tear-jerker. I even started crying while writing it.

Amara was scared that much she could admit. She had been waiting for her uncle Rhys to rescue her for weeks now because there was no rescuing herself. Koschei thought of everything. She had been bound and gagged with fae bane, her eyes were covered at all time, so she would not become familiar with her surroundings, and she had been stripped of her clothes to ensure that all her weapons had been disposed of. Normally, she would be able to break out of chains even with fae bane, but it was obvious that Koschei had prepared for that. She was forced to drink water laced with fae bane. It kept her weak enough that even her brain felt too foggy to think much less come up with an escape plan. She had zero concept of how much time has passed, but she hoped it had been enough time by now that her mother and father had managed to convince her uncle Rhys to tell them where she was supposed to be. She groaned internally. She did not even want to think about the amount of "we told you so's" she would be getting from her parents once she was rescued. Footsteps echoed through the dungeon. At least she had imagined she was in a dungeon. For all she knew she could be in her very own bedroom.

Suddenly, her blindfold was ripped off. It did not make much difference though considering the room was pitch black. A face appeared before her, Koschei. For as long as she lived, and she had a feeling that was not going to be much longer, she would remember those eyes. They were pitch black, depthless pools that appeared to look right into her soul.

Fuck.

She could not remember the details of her capture. How she got here or who brought her here. Perhaps fae bane impeded memory as well as strength and immortality. She did not want to show fear, but she had been so broken down that there was no other emotion to feel. Amara, suddenly,remembered overhearing that her own mother had been as strong as Koschei at one point. Her mother, who fussed over Amara her entire life. Her mother, who cried along with Amara the first time she skinned her knee. Her mother, who had become so flustered while making Amara’s tenth birthday cake because she mixed the sugar up with the salt and the cake tasted disgusting. She pictured Koschei that way too. With a baking apron wrapped around his waist and flour caked on his face. It had her laughing hysterically. Koschei watched her with cautious eyes. He seemed to think she was delusional and perhaps she was. She was not quite as scared now though. Even in the end, her mother was with her.

“Show time.” Koschei smiled mercilessly at the battered female. He detached her chains from the wall only to begin pulling her with them. She had not done any sort of physical exercise in so long that she found she could not walk. She wanted to pick up her feet and follow koschei, but she physically could not. He continued to drag her to wherever he wanted. Once again she was lost to her memories. This time of her father.

“Daddy!” A young Amara pranced toward her father. He had been gone for so long, overseeing the Illyrian camps, that the second he stepped through the door at the house of wind, she threw herself at him.

“Princess.” He responded back, wrapping her in a hug. She was so excited that she began to fly- her wings flapping involuntarily. It caused her father to laugh a big hearty laugh. “Oh how I have missed you. Tell me everything.” He carried his daughter to the living room and sat on the couch.

“Well, mother showed me some new Valkyrie techniques with aunt Gwyn and aunt Emerie, I have read three different books, Nyx keeps hiding my bows, oh and I decided that next time you go, I’m going with you.” Amara rambled on. She was a talkative child. Even though it was just the three of them, the house was never quiet.

“I must say that I completely agree. I cannot continue going on these trips without at least one of my favorite girls tagging along.” He sent her a playful smile as Nesta popped into the room.

“You are home!” She exclaimed, rushing over to plant a kiss on Cassian’s lips.

“Ewwww!” Amara jumped off her father’s lap. Her parents only laughed at her disgust of their affection. Secretly, Amara loved how much her parents loved each other. It made her dream for a love as deep as theirs.

It only occurred to Amara now that she would never experience a love like theirs. She did not want to die. She had so much left to experience, so much left she wanted to do. Finally, Amara realized they had stopped moving. She lifted her head to check her surroundings and she was immediately filled with relief. She was laying on a dais in what appeared to be a throne room. Her parents, the high lord and lady, and the rest of the night court inner circle were standing less than one hundred feet from her. Clearly here to save her. Tears of happiness fell from her eyes as she tried to crawl to them. Only the looks of horror on their faces had Amara remembering who brought her here. Koschei. He was speaking, but she had not been paying attention. She glanced back at her parents faces. Her mother’s was set in the hardest glare Amara had ever witnessed while her father’s was completely devastated.

“-believe I found one of your spies. You may want her returned.” Amara only caught the end of what he was saying. She tried so hard to focus, but the ingested fae bane had been poisoning her for so long that she could not. She felt the tip of a sword at the back of her neck. The threat of her death enough to keep everyone in place.

“What do you want in return?” She heard her uncle Rhysand ask. Amara found her mother’s gaze already completely focused on her. There was such sorrow there, such grief. She wished upon a thousand stars to hear her mother say “I told you so” because she knew that everything would be alright once she heard those words. Her parents would only utter it when they knew her life would not be in any danger. She wished to hear it now.

“I do not believe I was asking you.” Koschei’s voice was lined with such arrogance, Amara knew her Uncle would be seeing red. She watched as Koschei’s gaze fell upon her mother. She started to feel sick. This would not be good. The concerned look faded from Nesta’s face to be replaced by a harsh glare as she turned to stare the death lord down. “I know you can retrieve it. I want the dread trove. The crown, mask, and harp. All three or you can watch your daughter lose her head. And do not even consider using it against me. I am immune to the crown same as you.”

No. It was the only thought resounding through Amara’s head.

“Fine.” Her mother snapped. Koschei was clearly expecting more resistance from her based on his stunned look.

“No.” The tortured female could barely get the small word out of her throat. It grated so harshly that she knew she could not repeat it. Her mother could not give that male so much power. He would be indestructible. Her life was not worth that. Before Nesta could summon the trove, Rhysand’s sword was drawn and the tip was leading directly into Cassian’s throat. The general’s eyes widened with betrayal.

“Nesta. I am sorry. But I cannot allow you to do this. Bring the dead trove and lose your mate.”

Amara could only watch in horror as chaos unfolded. Gwyn held her dagger to Rhysand’s throat which forced Feyre to draw her weapon and point it at the red-head. Azriel, in defense of his mate, placed his dagger at the high lady’s throat. Mor and Emerie only watched in horror as the family turned on each other. Amara watched her parents have a silent conversation. They were weighing the odds. There was no pain like that of the death of a mate. Nesta did not know if she would be able to escape with her daughter given the pain she would experience. Amara could not witness this in her last moments. Could not witness her family betray one another over her life. Inevitably, she knew her mother would deliver the dread trove to the murderous psychopath. She could see it on her father’s face. How he was telling his mate to do it. To save their only daughter. Amara could not let this happen. Would not let the entire world descend into chaos just to save herself. With the last bit of strength she had left, she quickly turned her head and shoved the knife that had been at the back of her neck through her throat. Everything after that was a blur. She remembered her mother holding her to her chest. She remembered seeing her father lift his sword. The last thing she saw was her mother’s blue-grey eyes.

A scream so savage ripped through Nesta’s throat as everyone’s weapons dropped. She launched herself towards her daughter’s body. Praying to the Cauldron and the Mother to not let her die. She did not even register Koschei’s eyes widening as if he had never planned to let the female die. Nesta faintly heard her mate rising to his feet and launching himself at the death lord, his siphons burning brightly. Nesta grabbed her daughter and held her to her chest so tightly, she could have broken a bone. She began whimpering.

“I give it back. I give it all back. I give it back.” Like a mantra, Nesta repeated it over and over again. “Please, take it. I do not want it. Save my daughter. I will do anything, give anything.” Nothing was happening and the more time that passed, the angrier the cauldron-Made female became.

“I GIVE IT BACK.” She started screaming while shaking her daughter’s body. “I GIVE IT BACK. Wake up, Amara. Please.” The sobs that ripped through her throat would live in everyone’s memory for eternity, even Koschei’s.

It was only her mate’s cry of pain that could pry her from her dead daughter. Nesta’s eyes began to glow. It appeared everyone was about to find out exactly how much power she had left. Emerie was unconscious, after a hit to the temple from the butt of the male’s sword, being pulled away by Mor. Gwyn was holding her side, clearly injured. Azriel was next to her in two strides before winnowing away. Feyre and Rhysand were just standing there watching as Nesta’s family was being torn to shreds. She would never forgive them. For as long as she lived, she would despise them. She finally looked towards Cassian. Koschei was about to deliver the final blow to his head. Nesta launched herself at him with all her power. Energy burst out of her so strongly that the entire castle started to shake, the surrounding lake even started to shake, but that was as far as it reached. She could no longer move mountains and realms, but she would not need to. She knocked Koschei’s sword out of his hand with Ataraxia. The male flinched at the power exuding from the sword and the female. He had never planned to fight her that much was clear. She swung her Made sword and barely nicked his arm. It was enough though. He fell to his knees as his power began to leak out of him slowly. Nesta used this distraction to her advantage. She gathered her power once more, planning to unMake him in the same way she did Briallyn all those years ago. Unfortunately, he recovered fast enough to dodge her and grab his sword on the way.

Cassian was stumbling to his feet, determined to help his mate while his high lord and lady continued to stand frozen in the same spot. He hoped that a stray swing from a sword found its way into one of their heads. He reminded himself to thank Gwyn and Emerie if he found himself alive at the end of all this. Nesta was a force to be reckon with that was clear. As Cassian finally found himself on stable feet, he saw Nesta on her knees with the death lord hovering above her. Before Cassian could throw himself between them, Azriel had winnowed back. Gwyn’s Made dagger slicing through Koschei’s thigh. Azriel stepped in to fight the male while Nesta caught her breathe. Her anger was insatiable, driving her harder than any other emotion. Her body still needed oxygen though, and a second to catch up. Cassian went to his mate.

“You okay?” He placed a hand under her armpit to help lift her up. They shared a meaningful look before turning to the male that ruined their life, planning on ending this once and for all. They stopped short when they noticed Azriel on his knees with a sword to his throat.

“I will ask only once more. Give me the trove.” He was breathless as he made his command. Nesta’s sudden smile had him feeling nervous. The crown appeared on top of her head. She guessed that a cut from her Made sword would make him more susceptible to the crown.

“Drop the sword.” She commanded. He did as told albeit begrudgingly. Nesta lifted Ataraxia, made eye contact with his soulless eyes, and brought it down so harshly that his head fell from his neck with only one swing. Only a second later and his body turned to ash.

It was quiet as everyone took a breathe. Azriel lay on the ground, Mor just winnowed back from wherever she took Emerie, and Feyre and Rhysand were both still standing in the middle of the floor like idiots. The short reprieve Nesta’s anger gave her from her grief was over. She stumbled back to her daughter and fell on top of her in a sobbing heap. She did not know how she would survive without her daughter. She did not know how her and Cassian would raise their unborn child so soon after losing Amara. She sobbed and sobbed. It was the only sound in the room until Cassian picked up his sword. This sound, his sword grating on the floor, broke whatever stupor the high lord and lady were in. Cassian strode to Rhysand with only one objective in mind- revenge. The males made eye contact. Cassian’s glare was the harshest it had ever been while Rhysand was trying to convey his shame through his stare alone. Rhysand fell to his knees as if to accept his punishment. Before Cassian could get any closer, his mate’s grieving voice called out to him.

“Cas-“ his name broke off in a sob. He stopped only to turn around and rush towards his family. He finally held his daughter in his arms for the first time in three months except she was dead. He felt as though it did not count this way. He hugged his child and his mate to his chest. A howl ripped through his body. The sound was so devastating and so unlike anything anyone had ever heard from him before. Mor was the first to try to break the silence.

“Nesta, Cassia-“ before his name could even fully pass her lips, they were gone. Nesta winnowed them away. No one was quite sure when she learned how to do that. Feyre fell into a heap beside her mate. Azriel and Mor knew that their high lord and lady would never forgive themselves. And they never should.

“Where are the children?” Rhysand abruptly remembered Nesta’s promise to him, panic filling him. Feyre’s silent tears turned into a sob. Mor winnowed away and just as quickly as she disappeared, she reappeared with Nyx, Velaris, and Amren.

“What’s wrong? Why do you all look like someone just died?” Nyx tried to joke.

“You have to stop using that joke.” Velaris responded with an eye roll. “The answer is always ‘because someone did die’, you asshole.” The siblings continued to banter back and forth.

A sigh of relief left his body. He deserved to lose Nyx. He deserved to lose his own life. That did not mean he was ungrateful for the mercy Nesta bestowed upon him. Amren watched the mates with narrowed eyes.

“What the hell happened?”

#nesta acheron #cassian #nessian #nesta stan #acotar #acosf #mates #feyre archeron #azriel #gwyneth berdara #emerie

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sparring-hyena · 4 years

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bathrooms.

i accidentally got poetic and romantic bathrooms. and then i wrote it down. and then i made it gay :)

OR, a story about love told in four parts.

it’s a bit of an anything goes type of space—the bathroom. a half-way between the privacy and intimacy of a bedroom and the exposure of a living space. and that makes sense, AJ decides. makes sense that the bathroom would be where this happens then.

but just because it makes sense, doesn’t mean AJ had been expecting it. because she hadn’t. it happens sort of out of nowhere. not completely out of nowhere though. because they do have a history—messy and complex as most histories tend to be.

but the point is that she wasn’t expecting it. wasn’t expecting to see Poppy at the first frat party of the year. and definitely wasn’t expecting to wind up in a bathroom with her.

they’d bumped into each other in the line for the bathroom. it wasn’t a long line, so waiting wasn’t an issue. but it was just long enough for each of them to get a few catty remarks in. and they were at the end of the line, too. so, by the time it was Poppy’s turn to use the bathroom, they were alone in the hallway.

“you missed me over the summer, didn’t you,” AJ had said. her lips quirking up in the stupidly endearing half-grin.

Poppy had scoffed and folded her arms across her chest. “no i didn’t.”

“liar.”

and somewhere throughout their conversation, AJ and Poppy had drifted closer together. they’ll both deny it after the fact, but they were both aware of what was happening. how the space between them was slowly lessening. how the air felt taut around them, like it was just waiting for something to break it.

“why would i miss you? i hate you,” Poppy had said, her voice just a little bit breathy and her gaze flicking between AJ’s lips and eyes.

“if that’s the case, why are you still out here talking to me? the bathroom’s free.” AJ had leant in a little more, as though her words were a secret meant only for the two of them.

and that’s what finally broke it. Poppy grabbed AJ’s arm and yanked her into the bathroom. a surprised yelp slipped through AJ’s lips when Poppy pushed her up against the door. and then Poppy’s lips were on hers and her tongue was in her mouth and there was little else AJ could do— wanted to do, but kiss her back.

and now Poppy’s moaning and tugging at AJ’s shirt, trying desperately to fumble her way through unbuttoning it.

AJ pulls away, breathless. “what are— what’re we doing?”

“isn’t it obvious?” and as if to make her point, Poppy finishes unbuttoning AJ’s shirt.

“i just meant, like... are you sure?”

“it’s just sex. it’s not like we’re about to rob a bank.”

“i know. i still wanted to check, y’know?”

Poppy hums, seeming to regard AJ’s answer for a moment.

“what?” AJ quirks her head to the side a little bit.

“nothing.” Poppy shakes the thought from her head. “come on, we were in the middle of something.”

“right. yeah.”

AJ pulls Poppy in for another kiss that’s heated and messy and mostly just tongue at this point. and then, in one swift motion, she picks Poppy up and places her on the bathroom counter.

“that’s a fun new trick.” Poppy smirks and wraps her legs around AJ’s waist to pull her in close. “learn that over the summer?”

“jealous?” AJ grins.

Poppy scoffs. “as if.” and then she pulls AJ in again. kissing her hard, almost desperate, like she’s got something to prove.

it happens kind of quickly after that—they are in a bathroom at a frat party after all. shirts get tossed aside, belts undone, and skirts pushed up around waists. AJ’s fingers slip beneath Poppy’s underwear, teasing and waiting. it’s a breathy “hurry up already,” and Poppy’s nails digging into her shoulders that tells AJ to get to it. Poppy comes in a blur of panting and moaning and muffled curses.

they stay pressed together as Poppy comes down. and once she’s caught her breath, she pushes AJ back. and they get dressed and cleaned up in silence.

“thanks for that,” Poppy says once they’re both dressed and she’s fixing her hair in the mirror.

AJ hums, distracted, as she tucks her shirt back into her jeans.

“wait five minutes. i don’t want people seeing us stumble downstairs together.”

“what am i supposed to do then? just sit here?”

Poppy tosses AJ a stick of gum from her purse. “amuse yourself.” and then with a final satisfied nod at her reflection, she’s gone.

ii.

months go by since that initial encounter in the bathroom—winter break comes and goes. and it’s become a regular thing between them. almost like a rehearsed routine.

they’ll find each other across the room at whatever party they’re at. give each other a look that says “bathroom. five minutes.” then the bathroom door gets locked. and they’ll make quick work of buttons and belts. let their hands wander and explore until they’re both gasping and moaning. and then—

they leave the bathroom separately. pretend they were both drunk or that it meant nothing. it’s a lie, of course. because they aren’t drunk, not by a long shot. and it happens lots of times. too many times for it to mean nothing.

but none of that stops AJ. she follows Poppy upstairs. listens to the stairs creak beneath her weight and wonders why in the hell she’s noticing that before.

they’re both in the bathroom now. the door’s locked. it’s the same as it always is. but something feels different. it’s the air, AJ thinks. it’s heavy. foreboding. like it knows something she doesn’t. she wonders if it’s mocking her, but then she doesn’t really care because now Poppy’s kissing her and it’s softer than it normally is. and she’s not pushing against AJ as much or pushing her where she wants. like she’s ceding control. like she trusts AJ.

and there’s a lot to unpack there and AJ’s definitely not ready for that. so she goes with it. she’s careful and softer, too. and when AJ gets Poppy to come, she definitely notices the way her name glides off her lips like it’s something to be cherished.

once they’re finished and dressed and AJ’s left waiting in the bathroom again, she realises something. she realises that maybe she’s falling a little bit and that she’s definitely going to be the one to get hurt.

iii.

there’s another party a few weeks later and AJ goes to that. she has fun. drinks a little bit. plays beer pong when a few of the football boys insist that she team with them.

and then she sees Poppy across the room, and Poppy sees her and gives her that look. the look that says, “bathroom. five minutes.” and she’s about to follow because this is what they do. but then she remembers last time and what she realised. and the AJ doesn’t follow.

iv.

the weeks continue to fall away like dominos in a line. and then before AJ really knows it, they’re a month out from graduation. she hasn’t seen much of Poppy either. but figures that’s probably for the best.

there’s another party—isn’t there always?—and AJ figures she’ll go because it’s been a while since she last went out. there’s drinking and music and flashy lights and games.

the night dwindles on. and when AJ’s dancing, she feels someone grab her wrist and drag her away. it’s Poppy, AJ very quickly realises. Poppy who looks pissed and is now pulling her upstairs and into the bathroom.

Poppy spins around and pulls AJ to her. kisses her hard like she wants it to hurt. but not hurt in a physical way. hurt in the way that she wants AJ to miss it once it’s over. and AJ goes along with it. matches the enthusiasm, and bites and nips at Poppy’s lower lip. because she does miss it. she really fucking misses it.

it’s Poppy who pulls apart first. “what the fuck?!” and then she smacks AJ’s shoulder.

“what?” AJ looks nothing short of dumbfounded. “you’re the one who kissed me.”

“and you kissed back!”

“because you kissed me.”

and then she kisses AJ again. desperate this time. and she’s definitely trying to prove something.

“why do you keep kissing me?” AJ asks when the pull apart again.

“why didn’t you follow me?” Poppy cuts back with.

“what?”

“in March,” Poppy says and she sounds disappointed now. “when i looked at you and went upstairs. you didn’t follow. and then whatever we were just stopped.”

“why does it matter?”

“because— fuck you.”

“oh, that’s rich. you’re the one who dragged me up here! you’re the one who kissed me! you’re—”

“because i’m in love with you!”

and then it all just goes quiet. not even the muffled music from downstairs can break it. they stand in the silence. and it lays thick on their skin like a poison. seeping into their veins. wrapping them in a near suffocating embrace.

“remember,” Poppy starts softly, a stark contrast to before. “remember when you asked me if i missed you over the summer?”

AJ hums, thoughts racing.

“well...” she takes a steadying breath, “i did. i missed you so fucking much and i hated that. i hated that i couldn’t stop thinking about you. i hated that we weren’t together and that i couldn’t call you and that you didn’t text me. i just...” Poppy sighs and runs her hands through her hair. looking frantic and desperate and like she’s so close to falling apart.

“i missed you and i knew i was falling for you even then. but i wanted to prove to myself that i wasn’t. that we could have casual sex and have it mean nothing. except it didn’t work because now it means everything and i don’t know what to do.”

“i, um... i didn’t know,” AJ eventually says a moment later.

“yeah, well, now you do.”

“i didn’t follow you because i didn’t want to get hurt,” AJ says a moment later. “because i knew my feelings for you were changing. i just... i didn’t want to get hurt. so there, that’s why.”

“oh.”

there’s more silence, broken only by the muffled music carrying up from downstairs.

“what now then?” Poppy asks.

“whatever we want.”

and then they share a smile meant only for moments like these—quiet moments. intimate moments. and that makes sense, AJ thinks. because they’re standing in a bathroom. and it’s cramped and stuffy and there’s definitely some kind of mould growing in the corner. it’s far from perfect, but it’s an intimate space. a private space.

Poppy takes AJ’s hand and squeezes. and then they walk out of the bathroom and back downstairs together.

#my writing #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #queen b #playchoices #this is kinda me imagining what book two could be #so it's also me trying to be canon compliant #and that's what i like to call Character Development™

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kashi-prompts · 3 years

Text

Flowers For A Shinobi

Chapter 4: A Lead

Word Count: 2,803

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x OC

Previous Chapter & Archive of Our Own Link

Outside the office windows, the once clear dusk sky had morphed into an inky canvas of grey clouds. Behind them, the ominous moon ached for a chance to glow beyond the veil of overcast. Beyond the opened glass pane, the leaves of the trees ruffled in the wind. In the distance, an owl hooted. How quickly night had fallen.

Ayame stood behind the tall shinobi she had agreed to assist. His haste and determination to find as much information as he could had brought them before the Hokage. Despite the presence of the most powerful woman in the village, his shoulders were slumped to their default state of indifference; his slender hands shoved deep within the fabric of his pants.

She stared at the back of his neck as he explained to the Hokage his findings so far. Staring at the back of his head was the only thing that was keeping her heart rate at a reasonable pace. From this close, she could notice the different strands of color that made up his silver head of hair, light strands, and dark strands, all curling ever so slightly at the nape of his neck from the sweat of the day. His headband was tied tightly around the top of his head, supporting his unmanageable hair to lay in a state that practically defied gravity.

Her ears tuned into the conversation, listening to the man everyone called Kakashi as he explained everything to the Hokage. He referred to her as a citizen. And she was a citizen, but that didn't mean she wasn't like them. She looked up at the two, watching them and wondering what it was like to serve your village by means of protecting it instead of just trying to make money for it.

Despite growing up in a clan that possessed chakra control, Ayame had admittedly never really been associated with shinobi until she uprooted herself and moved to Konoha. The first shinobi she met were the Yamanaka's, and even then, she only spoke to them concerning the floral shop. Of course, she had friends, but they were all regular citizens with everyday tasks. The butcher, the librarian, the ramen shop owner’s daughter who bore the same name as her. It wasn't as though Ayame purposely avoided shinobi, she just didn't have reason to associate with them.

Now, she was surrounded by them. Capable, strong men and women that had taken an oath to defend Konoha with their lives. And here she was, an average, or a slightly above average, citizen.

"I understand this sounds like an improbable solution, but so far, it is the only one we have if we are still resolved on a medicinal herb being the main ingredient for an antidote," Kakashi offered, his voice sounding troubled.

Leaning over, the Hokage looked past the brooding shinobi to Ayame. Flustered by her intense gaze, Ayame stood up straight in confidence and untied her fingers from their web of anxiety.

"This is Ayame Hana," Kakashi gestured to the young woman, her braid falling forward as she gave the Hokage a respectful bow. "She comes from the Rōtasuagekure, the Village Hidden in the Lotus in the Land of Grass. We discussed them recently, if I recall correctly."

"Yes, I remember," the Hokage nodded, assessing the villager. "That village no longer exists under any governing rule, yes?"

"Yes, m'lady," Ayame responded, her fingers trifling with the fabric of her skirt.

"And you are a citizen of Konoha now, yes?"

Ayame nodded, "I became a Konoha citizen two years ago."

Despite the rumored age of the Hokage, her appearance did not give away any indication of such. Her amber eyes narrowed in suspicion, her lacquered lips a thin line.

"Why did you come here to become a citizen?" Tsunade questioned, threading her fingers at her chin.

Ayame did not take offense to the question despite it coming from a place of distrust. Others had asked her this question daily the first few weeks she resided within the walls of Konoha. It didn't bother her anymore.

"As you said, m'lady, my village - or my birth village - no longer exists as it did when I lived there," Ayame's eyes met the Hokage's, confident in her answers. She had nothing to hide. "But the reason I am here, as Kakashi-san said, is because I was once injured by what seems to be the same poison your infantry members are battling now. I feel I can help."

"You were poisoned and you're still alive, are you not?" Tsunade countered, "How did you survive? If you are a citizen, do you even hold the same nature of chakra we shinobi use?"

"If you will let me explain," the words tumbled from her mouth before she realized what she was saying. Beside her, Kakashi's eye swiveled in her direction, impressed but slightly uncomfortable as he adjusted his weight to his other foot.

"My clan was murdered as a result of this toxin," Ayame explained somberly. "I lost all of them. It is just me now. Which is why I came here, anew."

"I understand why you would come here," Tsunade responded carefully, "but if you do not have the same variety of chakra us shinobi have, I do not see the benefit of continuing this conversation. We need an antidote that will work for our bodies and our amount of chakra."

"My bloodline does have the same chakra that you do," Ayame's hands fell to her sides, determined to express her point.

"You are not a shinobi," Tsunade replied defiantly.

"I am not a 'shinobi,' but I do possess chakra and I can control it," Ayame answered, her eyes flickering over to a plant that sat perched in the corner on a stool. The plant's leaves were browned around the edges from neglect, its soil thirsty for water.

"I can show you," taking a deep breath, Ayame took a few steps towards the stool that held the small plant. Judging by its state, she assumed it hadn't been watered in a few weeks. The sunlight from the windows was barely enough to keep it alive.

Kakashi turned to her, his thin eyebrows knitted together as he watched her. Tsunade sat back in her chair, turning with another skewed eyebrow of skepticism.

"Please, Hana-chan, if you -"

Something dismissed the Hokage’s words as she trailed off. Ayame could feel them both watching her as she picked up the potted plant, focusing as she turned back around. Lifting it to eye level, she hung her hand over the leaves. A bead of sweat dripped from her brow as the brown foliage rustled in its pot, green epidermis overtaking the listless edges. Within a few moments, the plant stood straight, its soil moist and leaves bright.

She looked up, her eyes meeting Kakashi's for a moment. His eyebrows were raised in bewilderment. He turned his head to look at Lady Tsunade, his expression smug.

"As I said, I am not a shinobi by your terms, but I can manipulate and grow plants with my chakra. In my clan, we were not taught to use our skills in offense or even defense as your village does. It was exclusively used as a tool for the village to prosper. My clan was the only one in our village to possess more chakra than the average citizen. Thus, we were able to grow plants at will."

A few beats passed of silence. No one spoke as the owl hooted again in the distance. Feeling her body warmed by the exorbitant amount of energy she had just focused, she could feel sweat dripping down the back of her neck.

"This changes things," Tsunade nodded, her demeanor shifting as she looked back at her desk. She shuffled a scroll in front of her as Ayame leaned down to replace the plant.

The sweat that dripped from her brow moments before fell to the floor as she suddenly felt the ground shift beneath her. Tripping, she leaned a hand against the wood-paneled wall. The voices in the room began to resonate in her ears as merely a muffled set of noises.

"Are you ok?" Ayame felt a firm grip on her upper arm, pulling her up as she felt knees give way beneath her. Looking up, her eyes crossed as her blurred vision focused on the white blotch of hair that moved in front of her. She heard him move the plant she had placed back on the stool and guided her to sit.

"Sit her down- she looks like she is going to faint," she heard Lady Tsunade say, closer to her now. The sound of paper fanning her came before the cool air. "Her complexion is pale."

"Ayame," Kakashi called, bending a knee to be eye level with her.

Taking a deep breath, Ayame could feel herself coming to as Kakashi dipped his head to fix his gaze with hers. She lifted her head from the wall, shaking it to brush off the dizziness that enveloped her. As she looked up, she realized his hand was still gripping her upper arm, gentle yet firm enough to keep her in place.

With reality piecing itself together around her, she felt a current shoot up her spine at the moment as their gaze intertwined. Warmth spread to every cavity in her body, her ears feeling hot. In her chest, her heart did a rhythmic dance against her ribcage. She was unsure if its pounding was from her heart trying to reroute the blood back to her brain or from the intensity of a single charcoal eye that bore back at her. A second passed, then two. His eyebrow fell, his gaze softened. If she wasn't mistaken, she thought she might have noticed a change in the color of the skin on his cheekbones.

“Are you alright?” Tsuande asked her from behind Kakashi, using a sheet of paper to fan her. She looked between the two, her eyebrow cocked.

He blinked and the moment fled.

"Yes," she said finally, nodding slightly. His hand fell from her upper arm, its warmth leaving her skin feeling cold. She felt silly for blushing like a child.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry - I haven't -" she tried to explain, but Tsunade’s sharp tongue cut her off, bringing her back to the subject quickly.

"You say your clan had more chakra than a normal citizen. This would make them exemplary candidates to be shinobi," she heard Tsunade say, her arms crossed across her heavy chest. "But if that is the case, why would bringing a simple plant back to life cause you to faint?"

Instinctively, her hand went to her side, where her healed wounds resided. His eye followed her hand, settling there as she looked over at Lady Tsunade.

Trying to process her questions, Ayame looked over at the Hokage. "This is the aftereffects of being poisoned by the Tsukamu root.”

"Tsukamu root?" Tsunade lifted her head.

"Yes," Ayame took a deep breath. "The aftereffects of this poison permanently deplete your chakra levels. I was hit three times, so my levels are severely deficient. As you can see, this is what happens when I try to use them."

"The poison comes from this Tsukamu root?" Kakashi asked.

Ayame paused for a moment, thinking. She imagined the menacing, gray vine of thorns that twisted under the soil of her clan's small district in their village, pricking the unsuspecting victim's skin.

"The Tsukamu root is a vine of thorns that grows underground," Ayame explained, looking up at him. "It is meant to be stealthy and was a forbidden jutsu in my clan. I won't explain to you the history of how I was poisoned, but all you need to know is that it was intentional when it happened to me.”

"We believe this was an intentional attack on our village as well," Tsunade commented. "How could it happen to all nine men?"

Ayame shook her head, "There was a group of individuals in our village who were hell-bent on destroying my clan. The person who was responsible for creating these poisonous thorns is dead now. You have nothing to worry about."

Kakashi lifted his chin, surprised by her words, "dead? So you believe this wasn't deliberate?"

Ayame nodded, "if I am right, and I truly believe I am, the only person who could create this type of jutsu was - was my brother. But as I said... he is dead."

Her words hung in the air between them. In Kakashi's mind, he pieced together what she was saying. She had purposely been poisoned by her brother, as was her whole clan. She stared at him, feeling uncomfortable with the energy she had created in the small office. They needed to know that this wasn't the same as what had happened to her years ago. She was positive he was dead, unable to cause more harm.

"This has to be the leftover remains of his thorn jutsu," she explained, standing up. She tidied her skirt, brushing off the dirt of the day's works at the Yamanaka flower shop. She tried to appear unbothered by everything. Kakashi took a step forward, surprised she could stand after nearly fainting only five minutes beforehand.

"The only antidote I know is the Iyasu flower. It is what I used once I realized had been infected," Ayame looked between the two of them. "It is a secret scroll technique passed down generation to generation that is used only in my clan for medical instances such as this. It produces a field of these flowers that can be mashed up and prepared into a serum to drink. I would imagine that there still may be scrolls hidden on my clans compound if they weren't looted for money after --"

She trailed off, watching as Tsunade quickly went behind her desk to look at some papers.

"The Iyasu flower," Tsunade repeated, her finger trailing down a scroll that seemed to house a long list. "It isn’t on the list of plants Sakura has tried so far. I have never heard of it. That isn't to say you are fictionalizing it, but I don't think I can send one of my best shinobi and a villager on a wild goose chase for a scroll to a fallen village in the Land of Grass."

"M'lady," Kakashi interrupted, stepping forward. Tsunade looked up, and the two exchanged an intense gaze for a moment. Ayame could tell the tensions in the room were high. Time was quickly ticking away, and there was not much that could be done if this didn't work.

"The wounds Ayame showed me seem almost identical to the ones present on Yamato and the other shinobi. I don't think we are incorrect in following this path."

"We have three days, Kakashi," Tsunade reminded him, "three days, and those men will be dead. This - this Iyasu flower, even if we do get the scroll, Ayame is the only one who can use it. And if that is the case, we're doomed from the get-go. Look at her, she can barely bring a plant back to life."

Ayame's ears began to burn, her stomach twisting in embarrassment and anger. The Hokage wasn't wrong, but her words stung. Even if the scroll were found, the amount of chakra needed to create the amount required would put her out for days, if not permanently.

"I will do it," Ayame said quickly, "I don't care if it kills me. This is the first opportunity I have as a Konoha citizen to help, and I am more than willing to do so. Allow me this opportunity to serve, m'lady."

Tsunade looked over at her, her amber eyes intertwining with two jade ones. Unsure of what else she could say, Ayame exhaled quietly and gave another bow.

"I agree," Kakashi said suddenly behind her. "I think we should give this a chance. Herbal medicine was a lucky shot to begin with. Let's take what is being offered to us."

Tsunade looked between the two, thinking deeply. Outside, the rain began to hit the window pane melodiously. One, two, three - almost sounding like the tempo of a song. The only noise in the room.

"Fine," Tsunade sat down in her chair, the wheels creaking as she sighed heavily. Placing her head in her hands, Ayame could tell the Hokage was clearly overwhelmed. It seemed that this was the only lead they had to save these men and women. If not for Kakashi and Ayame's serendipitous encounter in the floral shop, the Hokage would still be searching for a lead.

"Leave at dawn," she said finally, looking up at the two. "And return next day at dusk. No later. Now go get some rest."

* * * * * * * * * *

A/N: I’ve been thinking of the plot of this story in my head for years now. I hope it isn’t too complicated so far. I may know what’s going on, but I have to remember that everyone else may not lol That being said, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! <3

#Kakashi #kakashi x oc #kakashi hatake x original character #Kakashi Hatake #kakashi/original character #kakashi hatake/original character #ao3 #ao3 naruto #naruto #Naruto Shippuden #Lady Tsunade #tsunade senju #Sakura Haruno #the sims 4 #the sims 4 screenshots #the Sims 4 anime #ts4 anime #the sims 4 story

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Ever in Your Favor, Chapter Six (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: We find out what happened to Rosé, and the Games continue.

A/N: Thank you so much for the incredible feedback on chapter five!! It made me so happy to see and I’m so glad how people enjoyed it. I’d really appreciate hearing your thoughts on this chapter as well!

Denali chokes back her scream as Rosé collapses, not wanting to give away their position. All the teams have targets on their back now, the danger even higher. And Rosé is motionless on the ground.

“Rosé, wake up. Please wake up.” She shakes her shoulder, mind running through a hundred possibilities. It can’t be because of the rain, or Denali would be affected too. Probably not poison either; they’ve been eating the same things. Whatever it is, she needs Rosé awake. Denali taps her cheek, dimly registering that Rosé shouldn’t be this warm. Her green eyes slowly blink open, and Denali loses herself in them for a second.

“What…happened?”

“I think you fainted. Or…” Denali trails off when she smells smoke. Thick gray clouds of it blot the sky, and where there’s smoke, there’s… “Fire. Oh, shit. Fire.”

A tower of flames writhes toward them, licking at the trees and filling the air with the scent of burnt pine. The fire is too large to be natural–figures the Gamemakers didn’t even wait five minutes after their announcement to unleash something.

Denali scrambles for their stuff, tugging Rosé’s arm. “We gotta go, we gotta go now.”

Rosé winces as she staggers to her feet.

“Can you run on that leg?” Denali asks.

“Do we have another option?”

It’s a fair point, and the flames are close enough to feel their heat. She puts her head down and runs, Rosé trailing behind her. They need to find shelter, somewhere safe enough for Rosé to rest. They’re not far from the mountain, and there has to be a cave or crevice they can hide in. They just have to get up there.

They sprint across a valley with the fire just feet behind them, and the only good thing is that it protects them from other tributes–no one can attack them with a wall of fire in the way. They trudge through weeds and gnarled roots on the mountain passes, Denali wordlessly catching Rosé when she stumbles, beating out the dying fire. A slit opens between two rocks, so small Denali’s trained eyes hardly see it. It’s big enough inside for both of them, and Denali’s shoulders loosen slightly. They should be safe for a few days, probably more if she disguises the entrance better. There’s even a stream nearby.

Rosé collapses against the wall with a gasp. Her face is ghostly pale and twisted in pain, her body drenched in sweat as she trembles.

The pain probably made her faint, but Denali thinks of how hot she was, and her heart sinks with what she doesn’t want to acknowledge. Their first aid kit didn’t have antibiotics, or a needle and thread—the Gamemakers wouldn’t make things that easy—so Denali had just rinsed the wound and wrapped it tight. Maybe it wasn’t enough.

Denali kneels beside her cautiously. “I need to look at your leg.”

“No.” Rosé clamps her hands over the wound with a wince. Denali isn’t sure if Rosé doesn’t want to admit that something’s wrong, or if she’s afraid of getting medical help from Denali. Denali isn’t a doctor by any means, and part of her wants to leave Rosé alone, pretend everything is fine, but she can’t.

“Rosé, you fainted.”

“Only a little,“ Rosé mumbles. "It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

There’s a hint of fear in her voice, and Denali softens. “I just need to check it, okay? I’ll go slow. And I used to hunt, remember? I’ve seen dead animals a lot worse than your leg.”

“Denali Foxx, did you just compare me to a dead animal?” Rosé asks in mock outrage. Her hands ease off her leg, Denali’s humor relaxing her like she hoped it would.

“Well, let’s hope we can avoid the dead part,” Denali says. “The animal part was spot-on, though.” She carefully moves Rosé’s pants down, grateful for her undershorts because Rosé’s bare skin is not something Denali can handle right now. She unwinds the bandage, her stomach churning once the wound is uncovered, red and inflamed and oozing at the edges. Denali knows, and the red lines streaking up Rosé’s thigh confirm it.

Blood poisoning.

“Oh,” Rosé says quietly. “Fuck.”

—

“Okay, don’t panic.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one panicking,” Rosé says. She sits against the cave wall, slowly getting her breath back while Denali paces.

Denali stops, wringing her hands together. “I saw leaves that draw out infection by the stream. I’m gonna get them. Stay here.”

“Not like I can go anywhere.” Her leg is throbbing, and moving will only make things worse.

Denali grimaces and heads out, desperate for a purpose, for something to help. Rosé knows the leaves aren’t enough to fix her infection; she needs real medicine from the Capitol. She has no idea what it would cost a sponsor to send it, because that kind of medicine isn’t a possibility in District 12, where the default prescription is drink some whiskey and sleep it off. If something’s really wrong, you usually don’t make it.

Denali rushes back in with a bundle of green leaves, crushing them up and making a paste with water. It’s not enough, but it can’t hurt, and Rosé won’t upset Denali when she’s trying so badly to help.

Denali’s movements are frantic, nothing like the measured motions for stringing her bow, and she almost drops the paste.

“Hey,” Rosé says. “Let me put it on. Your hands are shaking.”

“Yeah, because I care about you, you idiot.”

Rosé would make a snappy comment, but she sees how much Denali is shaking, how her eyes are wide in genuine fear. Denali really cares about her, and Rosé has a rush of affection for her.

Rosé gently takes the mixture from Denali. “I’ll do it, okay?”

Denali laughs bitterly. “You’re the one who’s–”

Rosé cuts her off before she can say how bad things are. “I’m gonna be fine, okay? This isn’t how I’m going out. I’m not going out at all, but if I do, I’m going out fighting, with my sword in my hand.”

Denali nods shakily.

“I’ve got some of the steadiest hands in the district,” Rosé continues, hoping to soothe Denali’s fear. “Cake-decorating hands, baby.” It slips out before she can stop it, and any worries are stopped by the fact that she should be saying this, should sell their romance for the camera. But none of this conversation has been for that; every part of it was real for Rosé; her need to soothe Denali, take away her fears, her insistence on making it through this. Denali must know it’s real too, because she’s smiling now, and she actually laughs, Rosé’s heart lightening at the sound.

“Too bad you can’t pipe icing at the tributes,” Denali snorts.

“Laugh all you want. I guarantee I could take someone out with a piping bag,” Rosé says. Her own laugh is strangled by muttered curses as the paste stings on her wound, but swearing is all she’ll allow herself. She won’t whimper like a baby in front of the Capitol, and she won’t add to Denali’s worry.

“What was it like, working at the bakery?” Denali asks, throwing her a line, a distraction, and Rosé takes it.

“It was…it was fun, really. My dad did the cakes, my mom did the breads. Me and Jan and Lagoona helped.” She rolls her eyes and smiles. “We mostly just played and tried not to get in trouble. When we were a little older, we’d make the cookies together, and my dad started showing me how to decorate cakes when I was ten. I still remember the first one I did that was good enough to sell. White icing with little pink and yellow roses. He let me put it in the window and everything.”

Rosé tries not to think of those days, of how happy and carefree they were, because it only makes the fact that days like that are now hard to come by hurt that much worse. But maybe it’s okay to tug memories over her like a blanket. She remembers running around the kitchen playing tag with her sisters, their father shaking his head fondly. She remembers the smell of yeast, watching her mother knead the bread over and over, mesmerized by the rhythms. She remembers the squishy piping bag in her hand, her father guiding her along, how he always said what a good job she did.

On her good days, when she leaves the house, she goes right to the bakery, soaking in the sweetness as golden and warm as the pastries her father makes. If she’s really up for it, she’ll even grab a bag and decorate a cake, the world fading away as she makes flowers out of butter and sugar.

“That’s really nice.” Denali smiles as she hands Rosé the bandages from the first aid kit.

“Yeah.” Rosé winds it around her leg, grateful to have the wound hidden again. It’s fine. She’s fine. She just has to outlast it until she and Denali are the only ones left. They can still win. “We should have a victory cake after we win.”

Denali leans in with the medical tape, her touch gentle as she tapes the bandage in place. She’s so close that their foreheads almost touch, and Rosé stares at Denali’s focused brown eyes, all the air knocked out of her lungs.

“Thanks,” she manages.

“No problem.” Denali smiles. “And I’m holding you to that victory cake.”

—

Denali tries, as hours blur into days. She tries to stay hopeful, to not let Rosé see how worried she is. Denali shouldn’t even be this upset, this stressed; Rosé is the one with her leg cut open and an infection burning through her, yet she’s calm and Denali can’t sleep because she’s afraid something might happen to Rosé while she does. She knows the odds, knows how bad things are, but she tries to ignore it. She tells herself it’s natural to worry about her teammate, but she hasn’t been this worried about someone since her father died and her mom couldn’t get out of bed. She hasn’t been this close to anyone since then either, but being thrown into the arena like this, trusting each other to survive, has brought them closer than Denali could have imagined. She’s grown to really like being around Rosé, hearing her laughter, watching her eyes soften when she tells stories about the bakery. She doesn’t want to lose her.

Losing Rosé would put Denali at worse odds, anyone can see that. But Denali doesn’t see her as just an ally anymore, and losing her would be losing a friend. A friend who’s been with her through the arena, who understands feelings Denali can’t even put into words. She won’t lose her. She can’t lose her. If anyone is stubborn enough to outlast an infection, it’s Rosé, and Denali lets the thought give her hope.

“How are you feeling?” Denali asks when Rosé wakes up.

“Fine.”

Denali touches her forehead gently, Rosé’s breath hitching at the touch. “You’re still pretty warm. I found some painkillers in the first aid kit. Nothing major, but they can’t hurt.”

Rosé nods, accepting the pills with some water. She becomes a bit more herself when they kick in, her eyes losing the shadows of pain and lightening up. Denali hopefully offers her breakfast, but Rosé shakes her head.

“Not hungry.”

Denali winces. It’s not a good sign.

“Not an option. If we’re gonna win, you need to eat.” Denali digs through their bags again, offering Rosé dried meat and apples like she didn’t refuse them five seconds ago. They need something light, something easy on her stomach. “If we had soup, do you think you could eat that?”

“Probably, but do you think soup is just gonna drop out of the sky–”

Something clangs at the mouth of the cave, and Denali finds a silver canister attached to the parachute. She unscrews the top and smells savory broth and vegetables. Clearly someone agrees that Rosé needs to eat, and she thanks their mystery sponsor.

Rosé snorts. “I’ll be damned.”

—

Soup keeps arriving, and Rosé keeps fighting. She does her best to eat, to keep her composure so Denali doesn’t worry. Denali’s only getting snatches of sleep, every second focused on Rosé, and Rosé doesn’t want to give her too much cause to worry.

Aside from the dull pain and the fever clinging to her like fire, it’s not so bad in the cave. It’s like their own little world, far away from the arena’s dangers. Just her and Denali, together like at the Training Center. Denali peeks her head out each night to hear the anthem and see if anyone’s died. So far, just the man from District 9. There’s still five tributes left, and Rosé knows something has to draw them together eventually. They both hate sitting here, being helpless, wanting so badly to go out and end things, but they can’t. Rosé can’t even sit up without getting so dizzy she almost loses whatever’s in her stomach. It’s her fault they’re stuck here, and she burns with guilt that she might cost them the win with her stupid infected leg. If someone would send the medicine, she could manage. Her leg would still hurt, sure, but she could power through long enough to get her and Denali home. Why hasn’t anyone sent it yet? She’s grateful for the soup, but surely someone in the Capitol can afford the medicine, and surely they would have sent it by now. What are they waiting for?

Maybe because Rosé is just laying on the cave floor like a baby, and they want to see her do something that’s worth the money they’d spend. Proof she’s worth dipping into their pockets. Deep down, she thinks they want more of the love story, more reason to watch them. Would kissing Denali be enough? Announcing her love? It’s terrible to do that to Denali, though, terrible to use her to stay alive. We’d be using each other, Denali said ruefully, but this feels like too much.

So Rosé talks instead.

She talks about the bakery, about the time Jan tried her own cake recipe and the thing was burnt outside and raw inside, or the time Rosé and Lagoona kept flicking flour at each other until they looked like ghosts. Denali laughs and laughs, and Rosé is grateful she’s let these stories out, grateful to share them with someone besides her sisters. She can’t remember the last time she talked this much, and even if it exhausts her, she keeps going. Because if she’s talking, Denali knows she’s okay.

“What was it like? Learning the woods stuff from your dad,” Rosé asks, hoping Denali doesn’t notice how her words slur.

Denali grabs a piece of cloth she’d cut from the sleeping bag, dips it in water, and rests it on Rosé’s forehead. She gets water from the stream each morning, and though it’s barely cool anymore, it’s heaven against Rosé’s hot skin, and she sighs in relief.

“It was…quiet,” Denali says finally. “Peaceful. He was always in the mines, so it was the only time I got to be with him, really. He didn’t talk much, but he was there, and it was enough. He would show me all the flowers and plants and tell me these rhymes about what was safe to eat. And he showed me how to use his bow. It was bigger than me the first time we practiced.” Denali smiles, and Rosé does too, heart warming at the image of a tiny Denali holding up a bow twice her size. “It felt so right in my hands,” Denali continues. “He drew targets on the trees until I got them all, and then he’d have me aim for certain leaves. Everything I can do with my bow is from him.”

“He taught you well.”

“Yeah. I–sometimes I wish he could’ve seen how good I got with it. I wish he could’ve seen me win,” Denali says sadly.

“He’d be proud of you. I know it,” Rosé says, touched that Denali trusts her this much, that she’s shown this part of her.

There’s a lightness in her eyes Rosé doesn’t think she’s seen since Denali was a kid–the kind of lightness Denali was rarely without as a kid. It was why Rosé had sneaked cookies in her bag years ago, trying anything to ease the sadness. And being with Denali now, closer than they were as kids, closer than Rosé has been with anyone besides her family, makes her ache to do it again. To be there for Denali’s pain and sadness, and do her best to lighten the load. To maybe let Denali do the same for her. Because all this–spending time with Denali, being on her team–feels so right. They’re the perfect team, and they’re both going to win, and go home. And if–when–they do, Rosé won’t lose Denali again.

When she first got home after her Victory Tour, she spent most days in her room, tired yet fighting sleep because of what she might see, the excitement of her return crushed by the weight of what she had to do for it. She was cold to her sisters when they tried to help, cold to Denali when she tried talking to her. She isn’t proud of it, and while she fixed things with her sisters, she never formally did with Denali–she just let them drift, though she forced herself to work extra hard when she mentored Denali. Surviving the Games could have reunited them, but Rosé let it push them further apart, because it was something she didn’t want to share with anyone–especially not someone she cared about. But she’s sharing it with Denali now, and she’s grateful to. And when they go home, she won’t let them drift. She’ll work to keep Denali in her life, to go outside more, to appreciate what she has.

“Do you want more soup?” Denali asks, once more desperate to help.

“No.”

“Just a little more?” Denali pleads. “Please? For me?“

Denali’s eyes are too much for Rosé. “Anything for you,” she says, and even in the cave, she can see Denali blush. She eats three more spoonfuls, then turns to Denali. “Can you do something for me now?”

“Anything.”

“Get some sleep, Denali. Please. I’ll be okay, I swear,” she says before Denali can protest. “You need to rest.”

“But–”

“I have my sword. I’ll wake you if anything happens. I’ll be fine for a few hours.” Rosé fixes the sternest look she can muster, and Denali finally gives in.

“Don’t let me sleep too long,” she says, slipping into the sleeping bag. Her breaths even out in minutes, and it tugs at Rosé’s chest how much Denali is exhausting herself to look after her. The stress of the arena slowly leaves Denali’s face in her sleep, and she could be nine again, curled up in her sleeping bag for a sleepover with Jan. The determined kid who used to protect other kids from the class bully and beat the older boys in races during recess. The determined woman who’s been there for her since the reaping, who didn’t give up on her and helped her fight again. Who makes her want to live again.

Rosé grips her sword tightly as she watches Denali sleep, and when Denali lets out a little sigh, it occurs to Rosé that if she were to confess her love, it might not be a complete lie.

—

Hours after Denali wakes up, things take a turn for the worse. Rosé is too weak to feed herself, and turns her head away when Denali offers her soup. Her skin is so hot she instantly dries out the cloth Denali puts on her forehead. She slips in and out of consciousness, her sleep full of whimpers for her sisters, and Denali vows not to mention it to her.

“I’m sorry,” Rosé croaks. Her eyes are closed, and Denali isn’t sure she’s fully awake.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Denali says, trying to keep the worry from her voice.

“Your mom’s…necklace,” Rosé says. “We nev-never went back.”

Right. They were supposed to go back that morning, but the announcement came, and Rosé collapsed, and then the fire arrived. Denali had forgotten about it in the chaos.

“It’s not your fault,” Denali says quietly. “That fire came, remember? We couldn’t have gone back anyway.” She bites her lip. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You got hurt saving me, if I–”

“Don’t,” Rosé says. “Not your fault.” She wheezes, the talking taking too much out of her. “Maybe you should go on without me.”

“Not a chance in hell,” she growls so fiercely that Rosé doesn’t even attempt to argue.

Rosé grunts as she reaches for her jacket, and her shaky fingers unclasp the lion pin and offer it to Denali.

Denali’s heart sinks. “Rosé, I can’t take this, it’s your sister’s.”

“I promised Jan I would bring it back to her. Denali, if I can’t make it, I need you to make it. I need you to bring this home to her,” Rosé says seriously.

Rosé would never give away the pin–the promise–unless she was really worried about being unable to keep it, and Denali blinks back tears of helplessness.

“No–no. Don’t think that, Rosé. You’ll bring it to her yourself,” Denali says. She can’t even consider bringing this pin to Jan, can’t even consider that Rosé won’t be with her. The past weeks with Rosé have only left Denali certain that she never wants to be apart from her again.

“Just in case. Promise?”

Denali knows Rosé won’t take no for an answer, and she doesn’t want to upset her. “I promise.”

“Good.” She sleeps again, and the pin sits like lead in Denali’s pocket.

—

By night, Rosé’s forehead burns Denali’s hand. Denali helplessly watches her toss and turn, like she’s trying to get the heat off her. God, Denali was so stupid. She seriously kidded herself that Rosé would magically get better. Rosé’s held out longer than most, but blood poisoning isn’t something you get better from–not without serious medicine.

Denali’s no stranger to pain or misery or suffering–her own or someone else’s. But she watches Rosé sweat and shiver and she can’t bear it. Rosé used to give them piggyback rides even when they were too big, hiding the backache with a smile. When Jan forgot her homework, Rosé ran home and back, handing Jan the work just as the bell rang. When an older boy kept bothering Lagoona, Rosé threw herself between them, firmly standing her ground until he left her alone. She was a hero to her sisters, to Denali, though now Denali knows Rosé isn’t so much a hero as a woman who’s made mistakes and is just trying to survive. Rosé should be home with her family, piping beautiful roses on cakes. Not thousands of miles away, suffering on this hard cave floor. It hurts Denali to even look at her. It should be Denali trembling with fever and pain. Would be Denali if Rosé hadn’t taken that hit for her. This is all Denali’s fault. How could she spend so long preparing for a fight and be too slow when the attack finally came? All the dreams of them going back home, of inviting Rosé over for breakfast, of taking her on walks in the woods, are slipping through Denali’s hands.

No. She’s not losing Rosé. She turns the lion pin over in her hand. What had Rosé called it in her interview? A symbol of love and home, Denali recalls, and more tears sting in her eyes. This is the one of the most important things in the world to Rosé, and she gave it to Denali, wanted to give her this piece of love and home. She trusts Denali to bring it home if she can’t. She trusts Denali, period, when she hasn’t trusted anyone in years. And Denali trusts her. Trusts her in the arena, trusts her in this cave, trusts her to talk about her family with. Rosé isn’t going home without this pin, and Denali isn’t going home without Rosé. There has to be a way to get the medicine. What if she–

Rosé coughs, her brow furrowing in pain.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Denali says quietly, for Rosé’s benefit as much as her own.

Rosé stills, opening glassy eyes. “Jan?” she asks hoarsely, and Denali’s stomach drops. The fever is high enough to mess with her brain—what if it’s too late even if she can get the medicine?

Denali hesitates, heart in pieces, wondering if she should play along or tell the truth. If she plays along, Rosé might get upset after realizing she’s lying. But denying it might upset her even more, and Denali can’t hurt her.

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s Jan,” Denali says. She strokes Rosé’s hair and hums the lullaby Rosé hummed to Finn, and it’s not quite right, but it soothes her anyway.

For a few minutes at least, and then she stubbornly opens her eyes.

“You’re not Jan,” Rosé says, and before Denali can wonder if she’s mad, she smiles. “You’re Denali.”

Denali blushes. “Yeah, I am.”

Rosé looks at her in wonder, a shy smile on her face. “Denali, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

Blood roars in Denali’s ears, her heart racing. What the hell is Rosé doing? She must still be delirious, she doesn’t know what she’s saying–

“I’ve loved you for a while,” Rosé continues, her eyes clearing a little, her voice sincere. “And you’re so special to me that I want you to know. I want everyone to know.”

And then Denali understands. Rosé has mustered up one last plan to get the medicine. A love declaration on live television. If this can’t get a sponsor’s sympathy, nothing can, and Denali has to play along. This is the game, it’s what they agreed to, so why does it feel so real, like at the interview? Why does part of Denali want it to be real? It’s just a game, she tells herself.

“I…I know, Rosie. I know you love me.” Why can’t she say I love you back? Rosé’s damn life is on the line, but the words won’t come out. But maybe she doesn’t need words. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Rosé breathes.

Denali holds her breath as she leans down to meet her lips. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t imagine this before. She was eleven when she realized she wanted to kiss girls, and so what if her fantasy kissing partner had red hair and green eyes? It was just her imagination. Nothing real. And Denali doesn’t know if it’s real now, but she’s doing it.

Rosé’s lips are fiery, but soft and delicate. Denali knows this has to be believable, so she runs one hand along Rosé’s arm, the other stroking her sweaty hair. If Denali’s heart was racing before, it’s running a sprint as the kiss deepens, and she feels more alive than she has since the fight in the clearing. It’s been so long since she’s kissed anyone, touched them so tenderly, and she wants to do it again and again. But she shouldn’t enjoy it this much, because it’s just a game, right?

Right?

She doesn’t have time to think, because a clanging at the cave mouth announces the arrival of their saving grace.

—

Denali tears the lid off the container. Inside, there’s a syringe, a needle and thread, bandages, and painkillers. Denali grabs the syringe, whispers an apology to Rosé, and sticks it into her arm.

Rosé, falls asleep seconds later, exhausted from the talking and the kiss. Denali isn’t sure if that’s good or bad. She assumes the medicine is a fast-acting Capitol creation, since she only needs one syringe. But how fast? Minutes? Hours? She doesn’t know how much longer they can hide here before the Gamemakers force them out.

Denali sighs. She might as well stitch the wound properly while Rosé is asleep. For the first time in the cave, her sleep is peaceful, and Denali feels a rush of gratitude. The lines of infection are already fading, and she stitches the wound with new hope, tinged with anger. All that work, all that suffering, for one little syringe. How could the Capitol have something that practically works miracles and make it so hard to get?

“Rosé McCorkell, you better wake up soon,” Denali says. “Because if you die on me after all this, I swear I’ll bring you back just to yell at you! I–I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life! I’ll–”

“‘M pretty sure I’d be haunting you, since I’m the dead one.” A wide grin crosses Rosé’s face as her eyes ease open.

“Rosie, you’re–”

“I’m okay. I feel like shit, but I’m okay.”

Relief slams into Denali, filling the cave with joy, and she cups Rosé’s cheek gently, feeling that she’s alive and okay. Denali isn’t going to lose her.

“Thank you, Denali,” Rosé whispers, and Denali knows how much she means it.

“We look out for each other, remember?”

Rosé nods as Denali helps her sit up. They eat the last of their food, making a plan to wash up at the stream, find food and water, and re-enter the arena.

Five tributes. That’s all that’s between them and the train home.

“One more thing.” Denali carefully re-pins the lion on Rosé’s jacket, ignoring how the touch reminds her of the kiss–just a game, just a game. She’ll have to deal with the kiss at some point, but not now. “Let’s go. We’ve got a game to win.”

#rpdr fanfiction #s13 #denali foxx #rosé #rosnali #lesbian au #hunger games au #angst #hurt/comfort #ever in your favor #athena2 #tw blood #tw injury #concrit welcome

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bonesofapoet · 4 years

Text

ABANDONED VALOR

[frank castle x musician!reader]

author’s note: one of those 'i didn't want you to see me like this, but here we are anyway." things, in which our beloved musician!reader figures out who frank castle Really Is. we all knew i would come back to them eventually. implied violence, blood/injury, Feelings.

word count: 1394

ao3: here

Almost every morning, he woke from a dream.

It wasn’t always the same dream – rarely was it, actually – but the themes were the same, the plot was similar, and he always felt like he’d been shot in the chest, in the stomach, in the heart.

Dreaming about you – that only meant he had gotten too close, is all.

Fuck.

August melted seamlessly into September, the nights growing colder, longer, darker. Summertime sadness drifted off over the sea into the Southern Hemisphere, and that occasional Winter Depression dipped it’s toes in it’s cousin’s place, ready to fill those shoes when the time felt right.

Frank Castle felt the chill of the wind tickle the tips of his ears, tugged the worn leather jacket closer to his body with his hands buried in the pockets. You were walking beside him, arm carelessly, casually, looped through his. He kept eye contact with you scarce, only glanced at you from the corner of his always alert, always on edge gaze.

He had a job to handle that night, and he wasn’t about to let you be caught in the middle of it.

Frank held your old, sticker covered guitar case while you unlocked the door to your apartment building. He reminisced silently over the familiar weight, the familiar feel of having an instrument he loved in his hands for the first time in months, years, eons. He almost forgot what doing something for joy was like, then wondered if that’s why he hadn’t jumped town yet; left without saying goodbye.

Your apartment was very you, the signs you just played a gig prevalent in the organized chaos that overtook the most prominent spaces of your place. Sheets of music scattered on this table, open notes here, lyrics scrawled on scraps of paper there. Empty guitar stands, small holes in the decor void of practice amps and effects pedals. The equipment that belonged in those voids stayed with your band for the night; all you needed was your acoustic and the man who had breathed fresh life into your lungs.

Ars longa, vita brevis you said, when he commented on the way your music worked it’s way into your apartment decor. ‘Art is long, life is short.’ Art doesn’t wait for organization. When inspiration is there. . . it doesn’t wait until you’re primed and ready for pretty note taking. It comes in messy waves and late night dreams; it follows me home on the train when all I have is my phone recorder and a shitty Starbucks napkin.

Fair enough, he answered, lips tilted in that almost-smile, the one that made your heart beat fast against your rib cage. Frank respected the shit out of your artistry, your undying commitment to it – this was not an easy thing to chase, as a hobby or professionally.

God, he fucking missed playing music.

He waited until you were fast asleep, the movie still flickered soft neon colors in the darkness when he slipped out the front door and let himself out.

He wanted nothing more than to stay with you, just for one night. And maybe he should have, because he fucking hated that he came back instead of sticking to protocol, instead of going back to his apartment where no one could trace him back to you.

Whispered curses, heavy footfalls, soft thuds of jostled furniture. The noise of Frank’s return was careful, quiet, controlled. He wasn’t loud enough to pull you away from dreams being dreamt, but you never slept when Frank slipped out into the night. Never dreamed. It was a lazy doze at best, part of your soul reaching out to the soft embrace of a healing sleep, the other clawing for every part of the world to keep awake.

You found him in the bathroom, door half closed with the sink rinsing away the gore from his hands, then freeing it from his face. It was like a second skin, the way shades of red clung to him in varying stages. Rain slick freshness, also tough, dried, aged.

Wide eyes met guarded ones in the mirror’s reflection under the harsh, bright light. The early stages of a black eye began to blossom over Frank’s right eye, and you tensed – he didn’t miss the way you stopped short, the way words died right there in your throat, before they ever left your lips.

Your heart constricted once, twice, thrice – when your eyes finally adjusted from leaving the dark. Knuckles bright red, deep blue, swollen and raw from constant use. An arm cried crimson, begging for anything to stop the tears. Tender ribs, plum colored bruises blossomed the length of his side, around his jaw. That, too, had already begun to swell. He wore the beautiful colors of a sunset on his skin, though instead of being inspired, he threatened to break your heart and paint the tile floor with the rising tides of emotion.

This man with night blooming gardens for armor, for bones, for a life. It was breathtaking, nonetheless.

“Let me,” you said, voice quiet in strained silence. Tentative fingers closed around his shaking hand, took hold of the alcohol ready to kiss his injuries clean.

The fresh thrum of adrenaline went ignored as you worked, slow and efficient. Every time he hissed in pain, clenched hands around the counter top to keep from flinching – the deep ache in your soul flared something bright and fierce and ruthless.

What remained of the night passed primarily without conversation. The occasional questions left your lips, and Frank refused to lie to you. He knew you deserved better than this, than him, than everything his life entailed – but he was not going to poison what little solid ground this – whatever this was – had found by candy coating truths.

When the sky began to deliver the safety of daybreak, he was finally able to meet your eyes without fear. The blue hour was in it’s prime, dripped fresh, thick emotion heightened by a sleepless night. The contrast of his broken body to the regret that made home in his eyes – well.

This sure as shit was not what you signed up for.

“At least,” you spoke, unsure of so many things – unsure of what he expected you to say, after making it quite clear that no, I’m not going to throw you out, and yes, this isn’t ideal, but I knew, Frank. I knew there was something more to you. I knew it wasn’t conventional when you dodged my questions about what you do for a living. “At least you’ve given me new material to write about. Discreetly, of course.”

His shoulders shook before you heard the quiet laughter. It was natural, the smile that broke your sullen expression.

“Always the artist,” his voice was hoarse, but tension melted with the shadows. Soft peony pink light gave chase to unease. The night had begun to settle, and nothing seemed impossible when the sun illuminated skeletons in the closet.

Steady fingertips lifted to graze skin that still resembled skin, traced his cheekbones and threaded through his dark hair. Your touch was feather light, barely there, yet it still made Frank’s heartbeat rage more than any fight ever could.

In that moment, he made up his mind.

History was not going to repeat itself – not this time. Not in this city. Not with you.

A marred hand reached to twine with the one at your side, always gentle, always kind. You minded his injuries best you could, but he would rather feel the white hot flash of pain by your hand than by that of any other.

You lost yourselves in one another, but it was different that night, that morning, that place where time wasn’t quite one thing, nor the next. The lines blurred, then disappeared altogether, because the only thing that mattered was the grasp of those moments. The stark existence of a simple life made of anything other.

When you drifted off to sleep, his fingertips left ember trails smoldering along bare skin. You wondered if you loved him.

You were glowing with golden dust from fallen stars, glittering bright and hazy and he knew, deep, deep down, where this could go, what this could be. If he were someone else, if this was another life.

He slipped out before the sun rose above the horizon.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle oneshot #marvel imagine #frank castle #the punisher imagine #the punisher #marvel one shot #kas writes

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life-before-boruto · 3 years

Note

howdy sierra ily :) i wanna be the first request here so can we get some angst with lee and a gn!reader :) [ “I always said I’d die for you.” “I didn’t think you meant literally.” ] for the prompt!!

They knew it would be a dangerous mission. After all it was an S-rank with a team of 5 sent out. Among those 5, were Y/N and Rock Lee. Normally Konohagakure would try to prevent sending out a couple in the same team, but given how well Y/N works with Rock Lee, it was only a given to send the two together. The village could only hope that if things came to the worst, their emotions would not interfere and put the team at risk. Initially, the mission almost seemed promising. Like one of those times they misrank a mission and the difficulty ends up as something other than it should be, truth be told their S-rank mission started almost as a B-rank. Upon their arrival to the village, one that was supposedly under constant attack and facing death at every corner, they found a peaceful environment. This lasted for days even, though as these days passed the peace became almost eerie. An eerie that can seldom be explained, as if the culprits had somehow gotten wind of a team coming to investigate and were holding out until they let their guard down.

It was the fourth night when they lay in silence in the same room as Lee, given the total darkness they couldn’t truly tell whether he was awake or not. Unsure of whether they would be speaking to Lee or to the air, Y/N takes a deep breath, releasing it all in one sigh. Their voice is hushed as they whisper out, “What if they’re waiting..waiting for us to feel comfortable? Waiting for us to even give up and leave? What happens if they attack when we’re not prepared?”

Lee took a moment, mulling over the chances of it happening, before whispering back in a sluggish manner “Don’t worry, if they even try I would die for you!” Despite his seemingly half asleep state, Lee is quick to sit up, grinning though they cannot see it. Y/N laughs, shaking their head at his response “I doubt it would come to that Lee, we’ll be fine. Especially because we know it could happen. Nobody will be dying on this mission!” The two laugh, a quiet round of cheer in their dark room. This was a conversation exchanged on every mission the two had been on together. Lee would soothe Y/N’s worries with the proclamation that he would risk his own life for them, and they would always assure him that nobody would die. They were always right.

Three more days passed, and there was still no sign of danger in the village. After a short discussion the team decided they would spend one more night and then be on their way back to Konohagakure. Come nightfall, the entire team was beyond exhausted when they returned to their inn. With it being officially their last day there, they had all opted to patrol as much as possible and rarely took any breaks.

After their long day, the team slept heavier than normal, and given a week with no signs of danger nobody bothered to keep watch on their last rest. The attack was sudden. One moment it was silent, and the next there was a shrill scream down the hall. It was one of their team members, most likely caught off guard by the criminals that awoke the entire team. Of course, coming to their senses Y/N realized it was too late. As their eyes adjusted to the dark it was plain to see six strangers in the room with them and Lee. Normally Y/N was not one to panic, but this was an exception. Here they found themselves faced with six armed people while they and Lee were both unarmed and awoken from their sleep. This would seldom prove an issue for Lee, seeing as how he specialized in taijutsu.

Y/N however was quite the opposite, truth be told they found themselves as a skilled fighter with weapons, but did not hold the strength that Lee had. Looking back, it all happened in a blur. With eyes that were still half opened, and a mind and body that were not fully awake, it was only a given that the others would be at an advantage. Y/N had underestimated how much of an advantage. They had tried to stand, tried to fight, tried to do anything they could to defend themselves. It would be cruel, they thought, to sit by as Lee fought them off single-handedly. In a panicked moment, Y/N found themselves with their vision focused on Lee, taking their attention away from the current opponent at hand for a millisecond.

A millisecond was a matter of life and death. In a millisecond a poison kunai was thrown. In a millisecond Lee threw himself. In a millisecond, the team burst into the room. In a millisecond, the kunai intended for Y/N found itself embedded in Lee’s shoulder. In a millisecond, Y/N screamed, dropping to their knees with Lee held close.

Y/N couldn’t be bothered to care about what was happening around them. At that moment, their focus was on Lee. Lee, who laid on their lap with a gentle smile yet tears in his eyes. Lee, who bled profusely from the stab wound. A part of them was relieved when he spoke first, with that energetic grin of his, yet his voice was hoarse, nearly struggling to form sounds at all “I..I always said I would die for you Y/N”

They had never felt so conflicted, through tears they smiled at him, shaking their head “Lee, I didn’t think you meant it literally. This..this isn’t fair!”

Y/N found themselves short of breath, shaggy breathing between choked sobs as they looked at him. Their words fell short, everything they could think to say to him would not be enough. There was little use trying to save him, given where the kunai had stabbed him, it was evident the poison was in his bloodstream. They wanted to say so much, to hear him say he loved them one last time, but they also wanted to believe this would be okay. That in the end, he would be saved and they would continue the missions with late night jokes. Jokes that never came true.

They knew it wouldn’t happen. They knew, as they watched his eyes grow heavier, and the bloodstain grow larger. Y/N could only find the simplest things to say “I’m sorry Lee, I shouldn’t have looked away from them. You should still be okay. You’re strong Lee, and Konoha needs you. I need you. I need you to comfort me on these missions and make silly jokes, I need you to remind me to be positive. This isn’t fair Lee, I love you.”

It was then that he opened his eyes, just the slightest bit, and smiled as much as he could muster. His right hand reaches up, and he caresses their cheek. “Y/N, it’s okay. I’m glad that I was able to save you...I love you.”

In a millisecond, Y/N lost Lee. In minutes, they were held by their teammates, words of empty comfort echoed in whispers. Others who hardly knew Y/N pretending they understood their pain.

In a millisecond, Y/N knew their world was changed forever.

#rock lee #lee #naruto #naruto shippuden #character death #requests

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bitchfitch · 3 years

Text

Lavi art fight resource

hrrrg. cat boy. causes problems on purpose and loves his wizard. is sometimes a lion

an excerpt bc i pulled one for the others and id feel weird not doing it for him (its fjord in the pictures, not anta)

The second to last match ended in a draw as the gathered crowds cheered the two young mages and their familiars on.

Team one, comprised of the superstar evocationist, Anta, and his lion familiar Lavi, had broken through the conjured hoards of beasts with sheer and near unimaginable brute strength. They cleared the hoard the fastest, though points were deducted for their near complete lack of teamwork and frequent communication failures.

Team Two, the summonor Fjord and his crow familiar Rook, took only a few moments longer, but worked in near perfect tandem, as was the goal of this competition.

In the small waiting room between matches Lavi's deep amethyst mane caught gold streaks from the sunlight that dripped through the window he was dosing beneath. He stretched splaying his massive paws as he cracked a glimmering red eye open to watch his master pace about like a caged animal.

Lavi knew Anta could probably use a hug, but they were trying to conserve magic between matches so Lavi had to stay a lion. It did hurt to watch Anta tie himself up in knots like this, both in the sense that Anta was his friend so Of course Lavi didn't like seeing him in distress, and in the much more physical sense that Anta was accidentally letting so much negative energy seep through their connection that Lavi was starting to get a headache from it.

"They're cheating," Anta declared, his shaggy black hair a mess from the wind and him running his fingers through it as he pulled his thoughts together, "That's the only reason Fjord could have ever made it this far. They Are Cheating,"

"A little more elaboration would be nice, darling," Lavi sighed as he stood plodding over to Anta and plopping down in his path. If Anta didn't chill out Lavi was going to have to break out the big guns.

"Fjord is No where near as good of a caster as me, and Rook is nowhere near as powerful as you. They shouldn't be winning!" Anta huffed tapping his foot as one hand strayed to pet the massive feline before him. his fingers brushing over the smooth golden fur on Lavi's snout then forehead before tangling with the hair at the base of his mane,

"They're winning because they work better together," Lavi sighed,leaning into the touch for a moment before headbutting Anta's hip just enough to knock him back a step "Litteraly the only critique we ever get is that we don't communicate well,"

"But we do! We do, we always get what ever need done, done. We've never failed an assignment, We're the better duo, Lavi" Anta took the hint and sat down on the old wood floor, pulling his show jacket off and tossing it up onto one of the tables before lying down,

"I'm not denying that we're better, we are, but… We work well together despite each other. I never know what you're planning before it happens and I just have to roll with it. You don't know what I'm doing, so you just keep pushing power through. It works, but Barely," Lavi settled down on top of him with a sigh, careful to make sure he wasn't putting too much weight on Anta,

"I still think they're cheating," Anta says after a moment, his hands going to braid a section of Lavi's mane.

"Then look for evidence during the last match. but do you really think Rook would let Fjord cheat?" Lavi closed his eyes again, ready to get a little more nap time in before they had to be on the field.

"Rook can't tell Fjord no anymore than you can tell me no. And I absolutely believe Fjord would cheat," Anta said with the up most conviction.

Round three began with the announcement of the trial, a simple test of connection.

Lavi and Rook would be facing off in a game of capture the flag, completely separated from their casters and unable to hear or see them. Fjord and Anta would however be able to see the entire field and could pass spells to their familiars as needed.

This should be easy, Anta reasoned with himself, he and Lavi were used to this lack of direct communication while Fjord and Rook weren't. They could win this and take the competition.

The countdown began and Fjord was already starting to try and focus, his spell book open on his lap with one of his own sigils already prepped.

Anta couldn't say he knew what it did, Fjord's sigils were always such a jumbled mess that trying to parse them out was fools errand.

The game began with a thunder clap. Lavi didn't wait for Anta, and was already storming through the maze that filled the field. the low shield overtop the whole thing kept Lavi from jumping the hedges, but an admittedly over powered blast of fire sent through him by Anta was more than enough to deal with the lush greenery standing between them and their goal.

Cloaked in flame Lavi ran on, as Rook began laying the protection wards Fjord was sending his way, before darting down the path that Lavi was coming up.

Anta grit his teeth as the pool cracked open across the path right before Lavi made the final turn. Unable to stop in time Lavi skidded into the water, firmly putting out the fire. He launched up after Rook, his jaws snapping at thin air as the bird darted out of his grasp and back towards his own flag.

Anta tried a different approach, Lavi was going to go at this head first like he did everything, and Rook was going to stay on the defensive until the last moment, so a quick invisibility spell cast over Lavi should be more than enough to let him stalk closer.

One of the wards Fjord had passed through earlier cracked that plan open a second later. Lavi stood from where he had been stalking, a second away from launching up to grab Rook. There was a moment between the two familiars before Lavi shrugged, shaking out his mane before turning and heading back into the maze.

A new strategy. Anta loaded a ventriloquist spell, if it worked it should fill the maze with duplicated sounds, making it impossible to tell which way Lavi was coming from. Then another spell to silence Lavi's footsteps, and a final one to amplify his speed. Lavi could probably see Rook's flag, this would be more than enough to give him the cover and boost he needed to grab it.

It wasn't.

Before Lavi had even made it around the corner Rook was laying another trap in his path.

Anta watched as Lavi was caught up in the snare, his massive body crashing down as his legs were pulled out from under him.

His chest ached with a sympathy pain, but his heart thundered with excitement. There. That was it. There was no Possible way for Rook to have been able to guess with that much certainty which path Lavi would be coming down. Fjord had already used his illusion dispell, and they could both still hear the rumblings of a hundred phantom lions.

Fjord and Rook were cheating, they had to be, some communication relay if Anta had to guess.

And there was a very easy way to prove it.

Lavi was going to Eat That Stupid Fucking Bird. Screw the flag! This was personal now. First off, the water had been So Uncalled for, what type of fairy dunked their friend like that? and now all the damned snares that kept catching Lavi off guard were driving him Mad.

Anta was also to blame for this, he needed to chill out on the high power spells, because while Lavi could handle them, channeling all that power was starting to make him feel fuzzy around the edges. He wasn't reacting as fast as he should be and it would only take one good hit to dematerialize him if he had to guess.

He felt a spell well up in his chest, something burning and offensive that he didn't fully recognize. Whatever, this felt strong. He crouched and watched the air for the black soot stain the was Rook. Anta didn't hand out spells earlier than was 100 percent necessary, so Lavi didn't have to wait long.

As soon as Rook was in sight Lavi lunged as hard and fast as he could, the trigger on the spell was tripped as his fangs clacked together around air, Rook having managed to dodge just out of his grasp.

A blast, of pure hot magic tore out of Lavi, nailing Rook dead on and knocking them both back down to earth with a heady thump from Lavi and a fluttering crash from Rook.

Lavi stood first, his legs shaky and his vision blurred as a sickness racked him. A deep ache in his very blood that even he could recognize as magic poisoning. Anta had pushed everything he had through Lavi, and if Lavi had been any weaker it wouldn't have just banished him back to the fae relm, it would have killed him.

The realization hit Lavi like a letter alerting a newly made widow to the tragic news, and the competition was forgotten as he sought out Rook.

He was still, a mass of scorched black feathers that shuddered and cracked with too much magic.

Rook would have been banished if it actually was as bad as it looked. Lavi told himslef that as he gently picked up his friend betwen his teeth and ran for the emergency exit he and Rook had been queued into before the match started.

The school's healer was already there, taking Rook from Lavi with steady hands even as Lavi stumbled. The crowd that had been watching murmured as Fjord ran onto the field to follow after the healer as she hurried away. Worry clear on his young face as he demanded to know what was happening. Lavi couldn't hear the answer.

Anta was at his side a moment later, a bruise already starting to darken over his left eye.

"Lavi?" Anta knelt down to look his woozy friend in the eye, "Hey, Lavi?" he sounded so scared, his voice tight as tears welled in his grey eyes,

Lavi didn't have the capacity to answer, instead he just rested his heavy head on Anta's shoulder, leaning into his master as he let himself drift off.

Lavi woke back in their dorm room, with Anta sat at his desk accross from Lavi's bed. His eyes were red and puffy, his thin face pale and stricken and he poured over text books,

"Anta?" Lavi asked as he stretched, still woozy but feeling much better than he had imeaditly after the game, "You don't look to hot,"

Anta jolted at the sound of Lavi's voice, turning before throwing himself at the lion, wrapping his thin arms around Lavi's neck and burying his face in the thick hair of his mane.

"I'm so Sorry," he sobbed, "I- I thought I had proof. but I was wrong and-"

"Shh, sh, Hey, it's ok, we all make mistakes, Darling," Lavi tried to comfort him as best he could, but he never knew what to do when humans cried, "What happened though?"

"I thought- I thought they were using a communication relay of some kind, and I thought I had proof. So I- I overloaded a spell and told Fjord what I was doing. If they had been using the spell Fjord would have been able to warn Rook, but I was wrong and- Lavi I'm So Fucking Sorry,"

"Is Rook ok?" Lavi asked quietly, Anta shakimg his head and sobbing harder was all Lavi needed for an answer,

"The Healer said I broke his connection back to his real body, but since his mind was here, when his vessle died He-"

"Oh," What was there left to say? Rook was gone, not banished temporarily, but dead. Fully and truly, and it was Anta's fault.

Anta sobbed, "I was so scared you weren't going to wake up, I didn't mean to hurt either of you-"

"I know, Anta,"

Anta never really calmed, but the tears stopped eventually as he threw himself back into his research. Necromancy wasn't Anta's specialty, and Lavi knew that even if it was, there was no other to bring Rook back from. The energy that made up his soul would have been returned to the fey world the moment he died to allow it to dissipate back into their home lands.

Lavi was pretty certain Anta knew how this worked. But it was an admirable show of denial that he still he searched for a solution to his mistake.

The pounding on the door made them both jump as Fjord's voice cut through the quiet "Anta, Get Out Here Now,"

Lavi was on his feet before Anta, he already saw where this was going, and he couldn't let it happen.

"Lavi this is a direct command. Lay down in your bed and stay there until I get back," Anta stood like a man going to his execution as Lavi moved to follow his orders without a will driving him,

The pounding continued.

"Anta, Please, no. Just give him time to calm down," Lavi could feel the panic rising even as he could do nothing about it, "Please just use that big brain of yours to think this through-"

Anta ignored him as he stepped up to the door, with a final sigh he spoke over his shoulder, "Be good while I'm gone, ok? and thank you, for everything." and with that last statement he left. the door clicking shut behind him as the shouting started.

Lavi could do nothing as panic turned to grief.

He could do nothing as he felt his connection to Anta sever.

He could do nothing as he found himself back in his cavernous home. Once again alone.

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spaceguybob · 4 years

Text

“A memory that remained” Housamo fanfiction Scenario - Ophion.

Tokyo After-school summoners. Fanfiction/scenario. "A memory that remained"

PREFACE - This Fanfiction is my personal love letter to the creators of the TAS game, their imagination and fantastic story telling. Especially to Ophion who is a amazing husband character and i thought his storytelling could use a bit more.

** That bizarre adventure was finally over with things seemingly back to normal. Both you and Seth laughed when you saw each other again this day, especially since you thought you may not see one another ever again. Faith has some odd twists and turns. But now, you were glad, able to finally relax. As much it was possible of course in the summer resort when you were surrounded by a gang of over-hyper friends chasing around the swimming pools, jumping into the water and causing general havoc. "Come on! If you don't get in the pool I'm going to bash you till you do!" Kengo yells impatiently from the water area but his words get blurred out by water sprays coming from Hanuman's water gun. Seth laughed in the background after seeing the scene, he and Shiro oddly found a common language together. Ganglie and Ryota snuck away to replenish the food supplies, and Toji and Moritaka were hiding in the shade debating something formally, perhaps it was sword fighting or training? Or just generally plotting revenge on Kengo for throwing both of them into the pool. Closing your eyes, sitting comfortably on the lounger you only want to drift away. The muscles still felt bruised and tired, although there is no physical sign of the experience you went through, the mind still thinks all the signs are there. Also, there are things you are still slowly processing. Especially one thing. There was a memory that kept creeping on you, almost every time you closed your eyes. It was hard to describe to be honest because memories have images and this one felt so distorted, it was a mix of colours, images, conversation and laugh, and most importantly music and a feeling. The last two things started following you in a pair, always. There is a melody you remember and a longing. Having been told multiple times that your rule has permanently cut you off from memories of your many lives past you have eventually accepted the fact that whatever the past was, it will have to stay in the past. Except for this one broken memory which felt like it was coming from a badly adjusted radio.

A sudden squirt of cold water pulled you sharply out of the depth of your mind. So sharply your whole body jerked up in surprise. “Undercover ninja attack!” Hanuman flashed his teeth from the edge of the pool waving his water gun at you. “Sleepy face gets a direct hit from the super water blaster 1000!” Kengo cheers with him jumping out of the pool heading in your direction fast.

“Sorry partner but you asked for it! I warned you” He grins rubbing his hands ready to grab your legs, but you are faster than him and swiftly turn around jumping off the lounger before he even tries, unexpectedly Kengo slips on a puddle of water created by Hanuman’s gun as he tried to outmanoeuvre you and ends up flat on the lounger waving his arms in panic. You can’t stop but laugh together with everyone else who was observing the scene. Kengo immediately tries to retaliate with a face red like a boiled lobster and chase you but he doesn’t have the stamina you have. Time and time again he tries grabbing you but with a swift zigzag, you outsmart him every time, having the rest of the gang cheer loudly with each of your successful escapes.

“Not fair partner! I’m barefoot!” Kengo huffs loudly.

“Like that stopped you before!” You shout in the air trying not to lose your path, still just to make sure you were far away, for only a split second you turned your head to see Kengo a meter behind, and he suddenly stopped with a surprised face and then – thump! Without knowing you run into something or someone solid feeling the air escapes your lungs as you sat down in shock.

Before you was Xolot standing still firm like a tree, unmoved. He looked down at you with an awkward, slightly fearful smile.

“Oh hi!” Then his expression changed as he realized what just happened. “Sorry! Sorry! It’s my fault I didn’t see you! Mistress Hakumen told me to find you and your friends I didn’t see you run. Are you ok? Sorry!” As you thought that nothing can beat the avalanche of his apologies a high pitched laugh pierced the air and immediately you closed your eyes in a grimace knowing Mistress Hakumen was incoming. Brace yourself you thought.

“Ohohoho! My darling Lucifuge why do you always assume I am up to no good? That’s so presumptuous of you! I’m but a flower pulled by the winds of never-ending emotion!”

“My dearest. You are a jelly fisher. One can have a conversation with you that seems all nice and friendly and sweet, then you suddenly feel like you've been stung with deadly poison, or end up locked in a prison, or even worse; without knowing what happened.” Lucifuge nervously giggled.

As you tried to sneak away back to your group Xolot extremely over-enthusiastically and loudly shouted: “Mistress Hakumen I have found him! You will be so happy I found him, Mistress! Yes!”

You felt as you were betrayed on the spot and couldn’t but grin covering your ears.

“Thanks for blowing my cover.”

“Oh sorry! Were you hiding? I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!” But, you couldn’t be angry at Xolot since he was always more than loyal to his mistress, even if it was in a very misguided and not very smart way. And so you braced hoping not to, again, become the object of their fights, and love arguments of these two.

“Milord! There you are! Oh!” Hakumen sang with her flirtatious voice toward you trying to hide behind Xolot, only for him to be shoved aside by her. “Move you idiot!” her songbird voice turned into a snarl. She still kept her flashy swimsuit on.

“I’m sorry! Mistress!” Xolot yelped putting down his ears.

Uhhh here we go, you think to yourself forcing a polite smile as they surround you from both sides.

“My fallen star! Don’t you just find it exhilarating here? My dearest remember, nothing succeeds like excess, well of everything! Maybe with one exception” Lucifuge glanced at Hakumen. You wondered how he wasn’t feeling hot in his flamboyant clothes where everyone else was practically half-naked.

Hakumen snarled slightly in response. “What does that supposed to mean Lucifuge, you half-jelly devil! I have not spared any excess to make this place perfect for my beloved Milord! Don’t you think my bellowed? I know it is so because you enjoyed it so far! Ah, the adventure we prepared for you! And the excitement you had! Ohohoho! There will be more!” She flutters her eyes to you.

“It’s fascinating my bellowed fallen star how Mistress Hakumen can turn any offence into a half baked compliment.”

“It wasn’t?”

“I must have said it wrong.”

“Maybe you should try it too Lucifuge. It would save us so many awkward situations when you behave like you swallowed a toad. Some aristocrat you are.”

Lucifuge looked genuinely hurt and shocked. “Mistress Hakumen, is this your new tactic now? Slander me in front of my divine lord! The beautiful star I wish to capture?! How low of you!”

You can feel like their argument and bickering is getting more intensive every second, completely ignoring your existence which oddly is a relief although you still didn’t even manage to say hello to anyone.

“I would never! Not in front of my beloved milord! For him, I’m a precious flower and I-”

She gets interrupted by the very familiar beaming voice that towers everything and everyone.

“I do hope I am interrupting something! What are you two arguing about now? Isn’t there enough scheming and plotting you caused recently?” Ophion towers above the pair, behind him Aizen marches with his ever-odd military precision and an angry look. You are sure he is judging every square inch of the summer resort and thinking of ways of purifying it from the filth.

Then Ophion saw you and skillfully moved himself in front of the arguing couple.

“My bellowed flower, my world, I heard what this vixen has done. Are you Alright? I should have known she cannot be left without a proper supervisor, as this may end up in another unplanned adventure as she calls them only to vow you into her claws.”

“That’s outrageous!” Hakumen squealed behind him but Ophion stopped her with his arm.

“Silence! Is it not another of your plans? Whenever my spouse is involved you always have a scheme ready. You twisted fox, you have schemes within schemes within schemes!”

“No need for such excessive complaints my dear! My beloved milord already knows his mistress is a genius among her peers!”. Now all three began arguing. It was fun to watch initially but it always becomes tiresome after a while. Especially with Aizen giving you murderous looks.

But the fact was, the moment Ophion showed himself you felt something change. It was that scrambled memory that keeps haunting you. Unsurely if it was the memory or yourself, or both your attitude changed towards Ophion. Yes, he was too much, but what can be expected of millennia-old god dragon that created life – or so he claims. And although it was extremely embarrassing for you to hear him proclaim his love to you every single time so loudly everyone within half a mile could hear, it was also cute. But, was it you or this memory. You couldn’t hear the music anymore, but there was something you decided to do during those nights you spent on the desert with Seth, Hanuman and Ganglie. You decided to gift that one memory to him.

Now only if you could get their attention.

“Hey everyone -!” But they were too occupied in arguing. Well, since nobody is paying attention, you though there is only one way. Next to where you were standing, on one of the loungers, there was a water gun, one of many that were left around the pool for the enjoyment of the guests. So you thought – Let’s see how they like a cold shower.

Their expression was priceless when you squired water around. The bickering stopped immediately and everyone looked just at you!

“Now since everyone is back to planet earth.”

“My dearest milord how could you!” Hakumen cried in shock.

“How undignified! I need a change of clothes!” Lucifuge complained. But Ophion didn’t say anything only piercing you with a highly amused look, you flashed his teeth to him winking innocently.

“How dare you! Have you no brain! Look what have you done to Sir Ophion’s clothes!” Aizen suddenly roared.

“Aizen, you need to stop this!” Ophion waved his hand annoyed at the man.

“Well, if the only way for You to stop arguing about nonsense was me squirting all over you then, I’ll gladly do it again!” You grin at the trio.

“Ohoho the wordplay! My darling milord, you make me blush! Ohohohoh I want to hear more! Please don’t stop!”

“Lady Hakumen, must you want him only for yourself all the time! Such lack of dignity eh!” Lucifuge complained loudly, messing about with his wet shirt. “No, no, no this will not do! I cannot be seen in such an imperfect, undignified outfit” He mumbled to himself and turned on a heel and walked away ignoring everyone.

“My darling spouse is absolutely right. How shameful of us, concentrating on tiny squabbles. Please forgive me, my beloved. “ Ophion steps in front of them closer to you, only to have Hakumen overtake his position pushing him away with her elbow.

“Hmpf! Speak for yourself lizard! There is nothing tiny about us!” She envelopes the curves of her body with her hands. “Mistress Hakumen is all about beauty and grandeur! We go big or not at all! We love or we fall! My milord must know this! He needs to know at all cost how I love him!” You could feel your face getting hot from embarrassment as Hakumen was performing her little dance around you, touching your shoulders and hips in an unwanted way.

“Ha! Pick your words and actions carefully fox-woman! You shall not touch what is not yours!” Ophion’s voice roars in the air.

“Lady Hakumen! Have you no shame! I shall not tolerate frivolous behaviour like this polluting our guests! Especially with this one!” Aizen adds after Ophion glaring at her with fire in his eyes.

With a heavy sight, you can see them start again.

“Lady Hakumen, Xolot mentioned you were looking for me?” The security therion moved his ears and grinned happily as he heard you mention his name.

“Oh, oh! Indeed my beloved milord! How could I get my mind clouded so much by this stupid debate!” Hakumen put on another singing performance. “We, wish in our grace, to invite you to an evening concerto today evening. Of course, you are welcome to bring your friends with you. Just make sure milord they like such events. We only want to make you happy! It won’t be your typical music show, however, ohohoho! Oh no, no, no! There will be a live performance and all guests will receive pillows and drinks or food for their leisure! It will be performed here in the resort and it will be marvellous!”

It sounded fantastic to you since, at least you think, you enjoyed music, saying you think only because with the lack of memories it’s hard to know if you ever heard a live concert. But always enjoyed listening to different radio stations whenever given the chance and craved the occasion to listen it live.

“I would love to!” You say eagerly without hesitation.

“You would, my beloved spouse?” Ophion jumps into the conversation.

“Yes, I never listened to the music being performed live. Or at least I don’t think I did.”

“Ohohohoho! Milord, you please me gratefully! Oh, so many preparations need to be made before tonight! Now my darling run along and let your friends know and leave everything in my hands!”

“My darling spouse, my beloved jewel of the skies, if you are attending so shall I! I will reserve us the best spot and the most luxurious of seating for your comfort!” Ophion shakes in excitement. “I, your husband, delight in well-played instruments!”.

“Not in a million years!” Hakumen snarls. “I won’t let you steal and hurdle him only for yourself!”

Aizen who kept quiet jumps straight into the conversation. “Ophion, sir! I beg you to rethink! This is absurd. You cannot waste your precious, glorious time on such idiotic whims!”

“Nonsense!”Ophion shrugs Aizen’s words away. “I have but all of the eternal time for whims that will please my beloved spouse!”

“Ophion… could I- Could I talk to you for a second? Please?” And so you said it loudly for the first time, unsure if it was best left alone, but you can’t just let it drill a hole in your brain.

“Absolutely not! You shall not pollute my lord's mind with your absurd ideas!” Aizen roared angrily pulling his whip. You were sure that one day the blood vessels in his eyes will rapture spectacularly.

“Silence!” Ophion snapped at Aizen that immediately shrunk within himself in fear. Then looked directly at you with an intense stare, so intense it could only rival the one you remember from when you first saw his younger incarnation that recognized the piece of the soul of his wife within you. “My dearest, my beloved, I am all yours! Please tell me what it is!”

“Uhmm..” You suddenly lost your courage having everyone, especially Ophion look directly at you. It was definitely harder than all of the scenarios you run in your mind before, and even harder when you had to ignore Lady Hakumen scowls and angry grimaces of her theatrical sobs just now. “Can we talk somewhere in private?” After saying that you did expect Aizen to come out with another snotty comment but the last reprimand hit hard on his ego.

“Ha! All these moments I have waited for such a request! Oh, everything of this world! Your Ophion shall give you as much time as you want! Let us find ourselves a quiet place and talk my love!” The golden dragon leads you to a fairly empty bungalow just a few steps away from where you stood. You don’t even want to look back at Lady Hakumen, because her theatrics are just too much. Both her and Aizen are probably burning a hole in the back of your head right now.

“Look here my beloved, shall we step in and hide from the prying ears of the world.” The inside of the bungalow is quite narrow and you are surprised Ophion manages to go inside at all for his massive posture. He is after all much higher than any human, with his wings and long tail and massive physique. But without thinking you follow and close the door.

“Ah, my beloved! I cannot contain my happiness! Please tell me what burdens your heart and mind! My flower of the skies I want to know everything.” Ophion’s voice boomed so loudly you were absolutely sure anyone outside could hear him. And you were also sure the walls had ears, so without thinking you lifted a finger to your lips. The golden dragon looked at you curiously with a smile and a playful wink.

“Are you sure this room isn’t too small for you?” You then said in a low voice. He did look a bit uncomfortable. “It would have been better if You sat on the floor I think.”

“My dearest spouse, I do not care about such trivial problems! The closer I am to you the happier I am but I shall follow your request. The roof of this place is painful for my wings.” Ophion answered and slowly sat down. It felt as he was sitting in a dolls house. “Now, my dearest, please tell me, is everything alright.” But you heard a creak just outside and were sure somebody was listening. The last thing you needed.

“I think somebody is trying to listen so I’ll have to whisper to your ear if that’s OK.” You say casually to Ophion. The dragon turns his head curiously and looks around. But as you think how you can whisper to him you realize how big his stature is. “I’m sorry but I will have to climb on top of you!” You whisper again oblivious about what you just said.

“My dearest! Those words! I can’t believe this wonderful day!”

“That’s not what I mean – ah!” You try your best to reach to his ears, especially since Ophion doesn’t seem to want to help you and without realizing you place your hands on his bare arm. And then it shocks you.

“Ah!” There is a quiet gasp that leaves your mouth

"Is everything alright my darling? My jewel! Are my scales to tough for you?"

"No... No... You are very warm." You leave your hand on his arm and then another on his shoulder for a few seconds.

"I don't think I've ever touched you but it is like I know how it feels all along."

Ophion glances at you with his dark amber red eyes with intensity for a few moments.

"And how does it feel my darling spouse. Is this body of the godly dragon wonderful? Please give me, your beloved husband an answer, my jewel." When Ophion isn't screaming to the whole world his voice is surprisingly husky.

You hesitate not knowing what to say but you don't remove your hands just looking at him.

"There is something I'd like to give you. I have... I've been remembering something and I thought you should have it. As a gift." You whisper closely to his years. " And I don't want others to know because... Because I would like to keep it between us only."

You feel Ophion's hand on your back, you think he was trying to help you keep balance but... Well, this feels really embarrassing and your heart is pounding. This is definitely too much for one encounter, especially since nothing is going as you imagined it. This is harder than fighting. Why does it have to be harder than fighting?

"My beloved, oh how adorable you look blushing like that. Oh my jewel, I'm at a loss for words. Do you have a gift of memory for me? For me? Your husband? Through the cosmos, I knew this day would come. I shall empty my whole calendar for you, my beloved spouse. Will this be a romantic encounter? I shall ask for dinner to be prepared! "

"No... No... Can it just be two of us? Nothing special, no dinner. I'll bring something with me. Will that be ok?" Gods you feel so embarrassed and it feels Ophion grew in size since you asked him. Not sure if it's because he is so proud of himself or excited or both, proud and excited, which reminded you.

"Please, don't go telling everyone."

"Ah, my beloved jewel, why do you think I would do such a thing?" Ophion protested quietly.

"Because you would want everyone to know how proud you are, and to make Lucifuge and Hakumen jealous and angry." You point out.

"My beloved, your words are so hurtful, however true. I would take great pleasure in making, especially that fox woman, jealous as you say. Her scheming is always troublesome." Ophion grimaced and then smiled towards you sticking his tongue out the way he always would. You both spend a moment in this odd silence. Your hand on his arm and shoulder leaning towards his head, Ophion's hand holding your back. You feeling his touch on your bare skin. His dark amber red eyes piercing through you with an intensity you haven't seen before.

"Sir Ophion! My lord! Please I beg you, enough of this. This is inappropriate! This situation should cease immediately!" You hear Aizen's voice coming loudly from behind the door.

You think of moving but Ophion's hand remains still holding you.

"My beloved jewel, I made a promise to shower you with my love for every day I have missed you from my lonely existence from when you have fallen into the sea forcibly. This short encounter, my beloved, has given me so much joy I struggle to express it with words. I... This young Ophion is stunned. You may think my beloved treasure, that I'm rash, and juvenile. But for one like me who lost so much and lived lonely in different worlds, I learned to treasure every moment. That's why my darling spouse, my heart's shouts so much whenever I'm with you. Please don't think any less of this godly husband of yours because of that."

You could hear a commotion outside.

"I... Think...I missed you." You say quietly embarrassed. Ophion closes his eyes with a smile and as your words were a magic spell his grip loosens letting you go.

"I will see you tonight before the concerto, yes my darling? Will that be suitable for you? And then tomorrow? Yes? My beloved?"

You nod in response. Suddenly the door bars wide open.

"My precious fallen star! Others have told me you were her-!" Lucifuge barges straight in completely oblivious he was set up probably by Lady Hakumen. He stops mid-word once he saw both you and Ophion and his face struck with panic and shocked grimace.

"Oh, gods this is so embarrassing." You back away from Ophion who pierces Lucifuge with a deadly stare and very, very quickly excuse yourself and leave both of them who just started their typical arguments.

"What do you mean you don't want to come with me? Come on? Nobody?" You cry annoyed hearing all of the gang decline your request.

"Kengo?"

"I'm sorry partner but I have a training session with Moritaka. Besides, I'm very into music and all sorts. Maybe if it's a fighting club or something. And we can join in!" He clasps his hands.

"I can't believe you are even thinking of asking this meathead. He doesn't know the difference between a drum and a cello if he saw one." Shiro huffs unimpressed. "Had I known earlier, and I mean days earlier I could have made different plans but this is too late of notice."

"I understand Shiro." You say resigned. "How about you Tsathoggua?"

"No!" He yells back at you from the gaming console.

"But-!"

"Nope! I mean there will be too many people there, and Hakumen and the rest. I just want a peaceful evening, yeah?"

You roll your eyes looking around the room.

"Ryota? Come on, please!"

"I would like to, but I've made plans to see Maria earlier so I can't. What's the problem anyway? Just go and enjoy yourself."

"Certainly, it will be a good, new experience for you and you can tell us everything about it. Just make sure you are back in time, yes? Keep me noticed about everything?" Shiro reminds you with a stricter tone.

"That goes to all of you. Not just our Guild Master!" He roars across the room.

"Sure dad" Kengo grins and quickly slips out of the room before Shiro reacts.

"Right, you all have fun. I wanted to see Mr Mononobe and ask him for a favour."

"Enjoy the music" Ryota's voice follows you as you leave.

"Thanks!" You stick your head back through the door with a grin.

Mr Mononobe wasn't the easiest to find but eventually, you spotted him during his round checking classrooms.

"Hello, Mr Mononobe. I hope you are well." You start politely.

"Ahhh. Hello, young one. Are you not getting ready to enjoy the weekend? I can see you have been spending a lot of time outdoors, the sun has definitely left a mark on you."

"It's just too hot to stay indoors if you don't have to. Can I ask you a favour Mr Mononobe?"

"Sure, let's hear it. I can't promise anything though." He smiles gently looking at you with his typical fatherly look.

"Can I borrow the star projector from the astronomy classroom for a day or two? There is a... project thing... I'd like to use it for."

"Project thing you say?" He measures you up with his look for a few seconds thinking. " Well, I can't see no harm in it. We do have more than one in the inventory, so I'm happy for you to borrow it as long as you return it in the same condition you took it." Mr Mononobe says, but then seeing you smile adds "But, in return, I'd like you to help Shiro out with his duties for the next week after that, yes? Fair deal?"

It sounded more than fair to you, especially since in your mind you imagined it going much less smooth.

"Thank you so much Mr Mononobe. You are the best!" You add with a smile.

"Everything for my students." He ruffles your hair flashing his teeth for a second then walks away to finish his duties.

Realising what's the hour you run back to your dorm room, but something catches your eye. On a wall within the main building was a painting, which you never noticed before. Thinking it through you realise it must have just been hang since you are absolutely sure it wasn't here before. The painting, presented in brilliant colours and detail a scene where a huge wave of water covers what looks to be Japan. With a red torii in its right lower corner and there a medieval warrior with a golden shield and what looked like a ghost of a woman.

Struck by the beauty of the painting and how unusual it was you remain in the hallway for a few minutes only to hear a familiar voice.

"Sheesh! It's so hard finding you! Hanuman gasps wildly, he must have been running all over the place trying to find you.

"I'm sorry. I was just on my way back to my room and got sidetracked". You reply.

Hanuman just gesticulates at you silently, clutching his knees and trying to catch a breath. Then he produces three envelopes and waves them in front of your face.

"Those came for you just now..."

You take the envelopes from him, all of them came from the Roppongi guild.

"Listen, Hanuman don't you want to go with-" You start saying but when you lift your head to look at him he is already running away.

"Sorry gotta go!" You can't stop yourself from making a sour face.

It's a bit off to receive three different envelopes from them, but you have a feeling you know what they are.

The first one containing a card that's so heavily soaked with perfumes you started sneezing. It's from Lady Hakumen who praises you in a million different ways and invites you to join her in her private pavilion for the concerto.

The second envelope contained a card that's full to the brink with gold leaves and very elaborate writing. You must admit the way the words were written is quite beautiful. It's from Lucifuge who also invites you to his private pavilion and to enjoy his company.

Holding the third envelope you are absolutely sure whom it's from and you feel a small tingling sensation when you open it and take the card which says: My dear friend. Would you like to join me today evening for tea before the concerto? I'm looking forward to seeing you. Licht

You read a few times, surprised and immediately make a decision as you haven't seen or talked to the Roppongi guild master in a while and thought it would be a nice change. At the same time, you feel just a small amount of disappointment you haven't received a card from Ophion. Quickly shaking that thought off, your return to your room and change. Thinking on your feet about what to wear you decide to put on a light yukata haori with a white upper part and a black lower one, hoping it's going to be presentable for the concerto. It looks good you think and leave. Glad about your choice you head towards Roppongi. Because of how light your clothes feel the summer heat doesn't bother you much anymore, still, the air feels heavy this evening.

After a while, you reach the resort. Surprised you noticed Melusine.

"Hi, Melusine" you say approaching her.

"Good evening, young milord. I'm happy to see you." She bows slightly, so wearing a summer yukata in pastel colours.

"Did Licht send you to meet me?" You ask thinking you already know the answer.

"Indeed, Monsieur Licht asked me to show you to the pavilion and prepare tea for you." She answers and you start walking together slowly.

"That's very kind of him. We haven't spoken in a while, it will be so good to catch up. Is everything ok with you? "

Melusine seems a bit distracted and before she can answer a stranger runs up to you. She stops suddenly and immediately steps in front of you as if she is trying to protect you.

"Is it him! Is it the one everyone is talking?! Is it the one Mistress Hakumen mentioned? The one who's soul contains souls of others?!" Melusine stops him before he can even get near to you.

"I'm sorry but I won't allow such behaviour around young milord, he is a guest here and under my protection!" Her voice changes slightly, becoming less friendly, not yet threatening.

The man stops but there is an odd uncontrollable craze in the way he talks and moves.

"Melusine it's ok." You feel like you should help him if you can. "Can I do something for you?" You ask stepping forward, finally able to look in his face.

His crazy eyes search for something within your face for a few seconds and then... His whole body shrivels down, like life and all hope has left him.

"I... I... I'm sorry. I thought you may be her... I thought... I'm sorry." The man apologies in a shaking stream of words and leaves.

Melusine doesn't say a word and both of you resume your walk. When you get to the concerto venue you can see there is plenty of sitting space for everyone with a multitude of comfy pillows in from of a large stage and a few smaller ones. All this from three sides is enclosed by three private pavilions that let you hide from the public eyes but still enjoy the music and the atmosphere.

"Monsieur Licht had some guests earlier so do not be surprised by the decoration" Melusine adds softly as she opens the door for you and you stop in the doorway speechless. The pavilion it's filled to the brink with the most delicate orchid flowers in gentle pastel colours, their sweet fragrance seeping into the evening air. Like a child, you wander around with an obscene smile touching the flowers and smelling them.

"This is... This..." You start but Melusine finishes for you with a rare mysterious smile.

"This is amazing? Please have a seat-" she points at pillows and seats and a coffee table "I will bring the drink and... Monsieur Licht should be here shortly."

Before she disappears you ask.

"Melusine, that man we met, who was that?" There was something about him that felt familiar and made you sad.

She stops with a sad look on her face.

"That was Orpheus, he is one of the artists that's going to perform tonight. Beyond that, I can't say I know more." You thank her for this and Melusine leaves you alone. Yet within a few seconds you couldn't but get up to explore the room and the beautiful flowers and their shapes. You heard shushed voices thinking it must be Licht and returned to looking at the flowers. Some of them were small and looked like butterflies in dozens on a single spike, where others were easily the size of the palm of your hand with long pendulous garlands. They were just beautiful, and you struggled to find and other words to describe it. What Licht was thinking you had no idea, and what guest he had earlier but this went beyond your wildest dreams. And then you thought maybe, just maybe it was for Melusine knowing their history.

"My dearest, beloved jewel." That voice.

You turn around only to see Ophion standing in the entrance where Melusine disappeared. He was wearing a white and gold yukata that lightly enveloped his body, uncovering a lot of his imposing, muscular stature. His wings spread only slightly as he wanted to make sure you won't run away. "What do you think, my wonderful spouse? Has your husband surprised you? This is a beautiful, delicate trap I have prepared for you."

"I have walked straight into this one, haven't I" You agree defeated, it was never an option you thought about. You had to admit you felt flattered.

"Of course, my beloved, my light that fills the darkness. This young Ophion, although not as experienced in strategy or tactics as my elder self, has unprecedented knowledge of what may please your heart. And if I know, I will spend every moment to find out! Hahaha!" Ophion laughs triumphantly.

"I can't believe Licht would trick me..." You ponder amused.

"Oh, my darling flower, do not hold this against our Guild Master. I have merely asked him for a... favour, which he was happy to oblige. Because of this nobody shall interrupt us if we don't want it. My beloved, I planned this just for you, we have so very few moments together alone... " He opens his arms wide invitingly but behind him appears Melusine with a bow and quietly excusing herself.

"Ophion, sir. Please forgive me the intrusion, I have brought the requested refreshments."

Ophion only nods looking at her nonchalantly and let's her prepare the table, after that she retreats bowing slightly again and sending you a brief smile.

"I..." You start."The flowers are beautiful... I've never seen anything like this before." You add to him. You are embarrassed, especially that you let yourself get into a trap as beautiful like this. Especially when you feel really flattered and there is a lot of thoughts rampaging around your head.

Ophion laughs triumphantly "These are merely a shadow to your beauty my darling, but it warms my heart knowing you like this little trap I have made. Shall we rest?" He extends his hand to you. "Do not be afraid, we won't be interrupted by anyone. I made sure of that."

You sit down and offer to fill his glass with a cold juice which he accepts with a warm smile towards you. But you notice, not for the first time there is an odd flame in Ophion's eyes, and now it hits you, it's somehow similar to the one you saw in the man you met earlier, Orpheus.

"There was something strange that happened today." You start hesitantly. "A man approached me and Melusine, he seemed... Troubled... Very, troubled and sad. He wanted to meet me, he seemed desperate, having his hopes high up and once he did he seemed... Disappointed. Like he lost all hope."

Ophion listed in silence but you could see he wasn't too pleased yet you continued.

"Melusine said his name is Orpheus, and I was... Concerned. "

A few moments passed before the golden dragon finally responded.

"My beloved spouse, I know the man of whom you speak. He is a fool. A poor fool, but a fool nonetheless and there is nothing you can do for him. He brought his fate on him himself."

But not being too happy with such a puzzling answer you decided to push on being honest about what you realized.

"There is a look in your eyes, the Old Ophion was very similar to him." You say slowly trying to pick the gentlest of words. Ophion ponders for a moment with a stone expression and then extends his hand to you inviting to sit closer to him.

"My darling spouse, this what you speak of, is the experience of loss." You hesitantly accept the invitation and sit next to Ophion, feeling the warmth of his skin. "Let me tell you a story of Orpheus, the fool as he is."

"Orpheus was born with a talent of music he was and always will be a singer, musician and poet, carrying a magnificent lyre on his shoulder able to enchant god, man or beast with his music, he had recently proposed to Eurydice whom he loved with all of his heart and beyond, but on the day of their wedding, ‘in the very bloom of her life’, she was bitten by a viper and died of its venom. Distraught with such grief, Orpheus fell into madness and wandered the earth looking for a way to bring his wife back to life. He wondered day and night until he finally found the entrance into the underworld and descended into the fiery pits of hell itself, determined to restore her to mortality. Nothing could stop his brave loving heart. He finally pleaded with Hades the god of the dead and Persephone for his wife's return, and his courage, devotion and eloquence ‘melted the hearts of the gods and the denizens of the underworld, and all fell silent’. Even Cerberus, the fierce three-headed dog that guards the gates of Hell, lies meekly at Persephone's feet.

The gods agreed to Eurydice’s return: Persephone especially sympathetic as she recalled her own forceful abduction by Hades. The only requirement was that Orpheus would not glance back at Eurydice until she was safely ensconced in the upper world. If he broke his word, she would be lost forever into Hell and there would be no changing the god's mind this time.

Orpheus agreed with the loving lightness in his heart and both him and Eurydice depart the underworld, him in the front paving the way for them, she quietly behind him stepping softly. However, Orpheus as emotionally tormented he was through all this time, with the creeping madness slowly started doubting and struggling to look ahead soon the deities have consented to her return. Throughout the underworld, the lovers ascended a steep and misty path and, as they neared the earth’s rim, Eurydice hasn't spoken a word in fear of what the gods may make of it snd anxious Orpheus began to shake inside of his soul. "What if they lied to me and this is but a trick, a joke of the gods. What if this is not my beloved Eurydice but some monstrous wickedness." These were the thoughts in his head. His mind fought with his heart. And just as they approached the exit from the underworld, just as the morning light shone in front of them through the dark gate, the fool Orpheus looked behind thinking "We are almost here. It won't hurt and I must know. My heart must know! He looked for his bride, and as he did he saw her gentle face her loving lips and eyes filled with fear when their gaze met. Eurydice immediately fell in pain and only managed to whisper a final farewell before being taken by a deathly shadow that dragged her into to the dying place. A godly force punched Orpheus out of the underworld and the gates shut before him and disappeared. He cried, pleaded and begged but no one would listen to him and after many days and nights broken Orpheus began to wonder again the world playing his music, with a mind of madness and a heartbroken beyond repair. Somehow he found his way here to this world my beloved spouse, and he hopes, maybe, maybe his wife was reborn in a different form. " Ophion finished his story with half-closed eyes, being so engulfed in his voice you didn't even notice when the music started and it must have been playing for quite a while now. "There is something we share, your Ophion and the fool Orpheus, we both lost our beloved, forcibly taken away by the world. You have seen my elder self, who was beyond help with his heart darkened and madness in his mind. This is why my dearest, my glittering jewel, I promised to gift you my love, my passion, with my whole self every day. This Ophion has finally found you!"

He finishes with a strange note in his voice. You think you finally understand, both what Orpheus and Ophion went through, it's different yet so similar. Remembering how much it took for the elder Ophion to snap out of his destructive madness. What loneliness and sorrow must have driven him to such a state. Looking for words to say you realise that through the story Ophion was slowly using the fact you were so enthralled into his tale to get closer to you. Both his large hand and wing were wrapped around you as he was laying on his side stretched across the floor with your body naturally using him as back support. He was surprisingly gentle.

"They say we are all fools when we are in love." You say finally.

Ophion laughs delighted, his ego right now must be beaming knowing he has you where he wanted, and willing to accept his advances.

"Indeed my beloved spouse, indeed we are. But let this golden dragon tell you who knows many stories, in my millennia-long life I learned it's what you do every day about your love that matters."

You then thought to yourself well what if you are a bit of a child and a coward. Fighting is definitely easier than talking about one's feeling, even Shiro's knowledge tests are easier than... Ok just breathe. You look around the pavilion, the sun slowly setting down painted the inside in crimson and amber shades. Shades elongated everywhere and within them Ophion's burning eyes and the music in the air.

"My darling starlight, beloved spouse, you are so beautiful today, this husband of yours cannot take his eyes off you. Had I known it would be so easy to capture you in this beautiful trap of my devotion I would have done it a long time ago. "Ophion says caressing your shoulder with his arm.

"I wasn't expecting tonight to be like this, you are correct, but everything else after was because I wanted it to happen..." You say turning your head away, but Ophion's lures your gaze back at him by placing his fingers along your chin.

"Is that so, my beloved spouse? Has this husband of yours made you happy?" His voice lowers to a grumble.

"I can't confirm or deny because I'm worried you may want to tell everyone gathered here." You tease lightly.

"Bwahahahaha" Ophion laughs amused. "My beloved, always so feisty, always know how to keep your husband on your toes. How you turn my words against me my jewel in a delightful skirmish."

You close your eyes with an amused smile, having to admit this evening had turned so much better than you could have ever expected.

"Could you tell me another story? Something about heroes, or how the stars were created." You ask, Ophion seems to have a talent for telling captivating tales, or maybe it's because he tells them to you. The golden dragon smiles mysteriously sticking his tongue out.

"Ah, my beloved spouse, you want another story? But where is there a reward for your dearest husband? I have gifted you one tale of the past already. This dearest Ophion of yours should ask for something in return. All stories are of value." He says still smiling mischievously. But before he can make his loving demands you stop him.

"What about if... Umm... If I move closer." You say trying to move your body but Ophion's arm already pulls you towards him.

"Closer you say, my beloved? I'm not sure if this husband of yours can accept such a payment" He murmurs amused.

"Closer..." You reply with a laugh feeling his arm move you further.

"Perhaps... This Ophion can agree to such a delightful agreement, but I'm not..." He continues pressing on your arm, you can feel the pillow you are sitting on moving.

"Just shut up and embrace me" You laugh finally in response and with these words you can feel his huge figure move suddenly, his large strong arms find their way under your own wrapping themselves around your chest. You are glad for your light clothes because of the heat emanating from his body, feeling the stone-hard musculature touch your back.

"This Ophion has finally captured the most beautiful pray in his delightful trap." He says into your ears.

"A pray would only allow such a thing if they wanted to be caught." You answer him with a strongly beating heart, feeling that Ophion will not let you go that easily tonight.

"My beloved spouse, you... You... hahaha I have fallen in my own trap! You make this Ophion's heart so happy, I can feel my body trembling." There was a shiver that travelled across his arms as he spoke, his words rumbling in your ears. "I shall grant your request, my beloved, my jewel in the skies, let me tell you a story of a war between two cities and a woman who caused it all..." As he spoke his voice mixed with the music in the air that evening.

You slept well this night after you returned from the event. Ophion purposely extended his story almost making you late for the school curfew. But you didn't mind at all.

This night you experience a dream, very different from the calm ones you seemed to have. Before you would see beautiful, serene scenery, hear a piece of gentle music that you taught yourself to replicate and a gentle song. What you remember most was a pair of gentle amber-red eyes following your every move.

This nights dream was different. You found yourself on a beach overlooking a vast dark ocean covered in thick clouds. A bright fiery light cut through these lights like and hit the ocean like a projectile of fire only to vanish under the waves momentarily. The clouds opened only for a second for you to see a tall mountain. Everything started to shake, the ground moving violently and suddenly the mountain top exploded ravaged by bright, angry flames sending massive pieces of rock everywhere. As you cover your eyes and duck you see a tremendous, angry wave approaches the coast growing bigger and bigger. The ground doesn't stop shaking.

You wake up suddenly only to realize the shaking hasn't stopped and an alarm is resonating through the school. Slightly panicked you look around, furniture creaking and moving. Right now you should be making sure you were looking for cover and sticking to the disaster prevention and Safety protocol, but instead struggling to keep your balance you throw on your clothes and run out to make sure your friends are safe.

Not long after you see Kengo and Moritaka half crouched trying to hold their balance.

"Kengo! Moritaka! You are ok!" You shout running towards them

"You idiot! What are you doing here? It's dangerous!"

"Indeed my friend, you should not be exposing yourself to any dangers like that. Earthquakes are not something we can control with sacred artefacts."

"Oh? And I thought you just bashed Kengo's head hard enough the ground started shaking." Suddenly you hear Shiro, he was walking slowly toward you. "You shouldn't be looking for trouble in a situation like this!" He adds angrily.

"Same goes to you!" You respond quickly.

"It's my duty to make sure everyone is safe!" Shiro huffs unimpressed.

"I have to make sure my friends are safe. Where is Ryota? Did you see Hanuman?" You flash a challenging grin towards Shiro. His frow disappears hearing your words replaced by embarrassment.

"Ryota stayed over at the Aoyama yesterday, he called me asking for permission. "

"Hanuman was in training with us but left earlier, he said he was starving. I'm sure he will be fine..." Moritaka responded to your questions and halfway through the shaking eased down and stopped. Everyone was waiting in silence but the quake didn't return.

"Mr Jin there they are" You recognised Toji's voice.

"My students! My beloved students are you alright?! Is everyone safe".

"I'm so glad we found you!" Hanuman jumps all over the place happy as you slowly get up, lending your hand to Kengo, who is unimaginably heavy.

"You really need to cut down on chocolate." You say after he is up.

"Oi! Cut it out. It train really hard!" He protests with a fake anger outburst.

"Hey, why is everyone here," Toji asks. "Hanuman only said about Kengo and Moritaka, not you two."

"I had to make sure my friends are alright. Shiro did the same."

"I'm so glad you all are safe!" Mr Jin laughed and suddenly stopped. "What did you say?! You were ignoring the obvious dangerous situation?! "His angry roar could be heard from everywhere and it attracted the attention of Mr Mononobe who together with the other teachers was making sure everyone is ok and there is no structural damage to the school.

"Mr Jin, what is this shouting? Are the students alright?" Mr Mononobe was walking very with a serious face. He must have been incredibly worried and stressed.

"No, no, no Mr Mononobe. All of our beloved students are fine, except these two who blatantly ignored the crisis of the situation." Mr Jin talks very fast giving both you and Shiro an unpleasant, angry look.

"How do? What have they done." Mr Mononobe forces himself to be calm narrowing his eyes at both of you. Shiro's face went pale but you decided to take the blame even if there was nothing wrong about what you have done.

"Mr Jin, Mr Mononobe. We have only left the safety of our rooms to make sure our friends and anyone who may be in trouble is safe." You straighten up without letting the teacher speak. Mr Jin huff loudly surprised.

Mr Mononobe considers his words for a few seconds, his frow eases down.

"What if you helping others would put you in direct danger? Have you thought about that?" He asks you.

"It won't matter as long as we can help them." Shiro jumps in the conversation.

"That's right." You agree.

Mr Mononobe closes his eyes and nods slowly.

"It's ok Mr Jin, those kids have their heads and hearts in the right place. Now stop standing around and go help! "

Quickly the whole gang scatters around the school to help the teachers and other students. Your whole morning passes in a new busy routine, checking the news and listening to your elders to make sure everything is going to be fine. The earthquake was classified as an isolated tremor that came from the land, with no predicted aftershocks. The city didn't experience any problems or damage except some broken furniture and unfortunate accidents that were treated in the hospital right now. It seems everything was back to normal.

Having the chance to relax you pick up the projector from the inventory and send Melusine a polite message asking her for a favour explaining you would need something transported to Ophion tower, small personal items. Only if she wouldn't mind. Shortly after Melusine answers, she would be happy to help and she will meet you shortly at the school.

Gathering your thoughts you return to your room. You look at a guitar that stands hidden in the corner. So far you managed to keep it away from your friends, especially Kengo, as you were worried he would break it by just touching it with his large, clumsy hands.

When the dreams started, the memory a few weeks back you could hear a melody. Initially, it was all scrambled up, just like everything was in reverse or through a badly adjusted radio. You couldn't make sense of anything. But then you started concentrating on one thing, the melody and each time it was clearer and clearer. Then one day, on a whim perhaps you thought, this melody shouldn't be hard to replicate, and being able to play it yourself could help with understanding the memory.

Thus you found a music shop, that stored all kinds of instruments, from drum and percussion kits to electric guitars and pianos. A very slim transient feline covered with many colourful patches of fur welcomed you very enthusiastically. She introduced herself as Saraswati and proceeded to praise all of the instruments and types of music.

Her welcome filled you with warmth and confidence, so you proceeded to explain, however badly, you wanted to learn how to play a melody from your memory. Saraswati was perplexed by your explanation but it made her curious so she kept asking questions, what instrument.

"AHH... I'm sorry... It was ancient-looking. I know how it looks but I don't know the name."

"How did you learn that melody in the first place?" Saraswati asks curiously.

"Most kids come in here wanting to become the next great idol, play the cool thing. Very few come because they love music, even fewer want to learn to play the piano or a violin. Sad times are upon us. I know all instruments, maybe if you draw it for me I'll be able to guess." She gives you something to draw on.

You agree and take a pencil from her. The lines you draw are a bit shaky and in the end, you present an image of u shaped instrument that reminds you of a horseshoe with strings in the centre of it going to the crossbar connecting both arms.

Saraswati studies it for a few seconds and then presents you with a smile. "That's a lyre. It's an instrument used in ancient times. You can say it's similar to a harpe but the rules of its music are more like a modern guitar."

"A lyre? Oh, that would make sense." You think about your dreams.

"Would it? Why so?"

"I saw this instrument in a dream that I think maybe a memory. But it's only a guess."

"Well, the only problem is I don't have a Lyra in stock. So sorry. On fact, it would be hard to get one anyway. These types of instruments are done per request and are quite pricey. Then you would need to attend a special lesson... Oh, trust me you don't want that!" She chuckled softly. "But... I have an idea".

Saraswati adds seeing your disappointment and pushes you into the depts of the shop.

"As I said the modern guitar operates on a very similar principle as the lyre. If you look and listen carefully you may even find one that sounds almost identical." She winks at you mysteriously.

"None of them is secretly sacred artefacts are they?" You joke nervously.

"Ahahaha oh no! Can you imagine what problems that would cause? Oh no, I can't have that in my shop! I put too much heart into it!"

Following Saraswati advice, you slowly look through all of the guitar instruments. There are electric ones in futuristic shapes or ones that resemble those you saw musicians holding on posters, then there are large guitars called acoustic but their sound just doesn't sit ok with your ear. Lastly, you glance on smaller, simpler guitars called classical one, their soft strings produce a warm melody very similar to that from your dreams.

And then you see the prices of these and your heart sinks while the jaw levitates very close to the floor. You have some money you managed to save up recently but not nearly enough to afford even the cheapest of those instruments.

Well, this plan will have to be put on hold for now you think and then unexpectedly something draws your eyes. You just noticed a boxed display with a Sale label on it. Within it you see all sorts of instruments, some are ex-display models, some seemed slightly damaged. In this box you find a single classical guitar, there was absolutely nothing wrong with it except one string being broken. You have just enough money to buy it.

"What's wrong with this guitar?" You ask Saraswati, the feline takes the instrument from your hands to inspect it.

It's a beautiful light guitar, painted in a very dark blue colour that reminds you of the night sky with silver nylon strings.

"There is nothing wrong with it deary, except the broken string. I can thread one for you for free, it will take me just a minute."

"Why was it in the sales box?" You ask curiously.

"It's the colour you see. Very few people would buy a guitar that's not in a light colour like brown or cream. If they are lacquered then maybe but this beautiful thing is in matt."

You admit you are completely lost and ask if you could buy it.

"Of course you can. Let me put on a new string, you know what because you are my first customer today why don't I present you with a guitar case and a book how to play it, yes?"

Saraswati is so kind and nice there is no way you can refuse her. And from that day each free moment, you found you spent on learning how to play the instrument, learning how to replay the sounds from the dreams. Initially, it was hard, your fingers hurt but each time seemed a bit easier. Then the dreams slowly became clearer, and the melody guided you. With the melody came words and suddenly you saw a familiar face with burning dark amber red eyes. Then you realized it wasn't any memory or dream, it was something from Ophion's past.

"Now I know what you were doing all this time when you weren't with us! Are you planning to become a musician, Guild Master?" Shiro's voice interrupted your chain of thoughts as you were sitting on your bed plucking the strings lovingly. Your heart sank and you face immediately felt flushed. Shiro laughed hard seeing your expression. "Don't be concerned, I'm not going to tell the others unless you want me to!"

"Don't you know how to knock?!" You cry out embarrassed.

"You left the door crack open."

"Ah-! I'm... I'm sorry I have been distracted recently." You reply slowly feeling guilty.

"I have noticed that's why I came to talk to you. Your head seems in the clouds, you drift away more often than usual. Is everything alright?"

You scan Shiro's face and measure your words not to say too much and you tell him about the memory and then your last dream with the earthquake.

Shiro almost jumps excited but there is some concern I'm his voice too. "Having a memory recall like that is fantastic! It means something in you is unlocking its secrets even if just a small bit. Do you know who’s memory it is?"

"Y-yes..." You stutter.

"I'm guessing you don't want to share it ?"

You silently turn your head.

"No... Not yet at least. And then there is a matter of the last dream."

"Hmpf... I wouldn't worry too much now. I would think your dreams were merely the effect of the earthquake. Like when you hear a sound while you dream and your brain incorporates it into the dream itself. "

"How do you know things like that?"

"I pay attention in class compared to you and Kengo! That reminds me. Melusine is looking for you." Shiro replies and readies to leave only to turn around. "Remember if there is anything, you can tell us right?"

You nod with a smile.

"Thanks" and Shiro disappears behind the door. Taking a deep breath you put the guitar into a case and pack the projector into a separate box. With both of them, you direct yourself to the school entrance where Melusine is waiting patiently.

"Hi, Melusine!" You greet her from afar, as you get closer you notice her usual outfit has been decorated in many places with garlands of familiar flowers.

"Hello young Milord, I hope you are well? I must take this chance and ask for forgiveness after yesterday. I was only following Monsieur Licht's request who specifically requested not to mention at any point Sir Ophion will be joining you."

"It's ok Melusine." You interrupt her. "It turned out better than I hoped. I... I thought it was Licht's gift to you. "

"Ah-!" Melusine blushes "That would be impossible. But Sir Ophion made a great deal of effort to get everything prepared. Nobody except humble myself and Monsieur Licht knew about his plan. He must care about you very much young Milord. In fact... I don't ever remember him carrying about anything and anyone in the past as his older self. You seem to cause impossible change whenever you go." She added with a hint of a smile.

"What's with these?" You ask about the flowers.

"Oh, forgive me, Milord. Monsieur Licht said I can keep any flowers I want before they get removed so I kept a few of them."

" And you keep saying some things are impossible. They look beautiful on you. Send my kindest regards to Licht when you see him, and thank you so much for your help. Hopefully, I can repay it somehow one day. Oh, by the way, one more thing. Is there any way through the building I can take to avoid meeting literary everyone?"

Melusine takes the boxes from you and slowly explains a route that should help you pass unnoticed, then leaves with a mysterious half-smile as she was deep in thought about what you said earlier.

The weather outdoors is still sunny and pleasant giving you some hope you won’t need the projector and nature will provide the best possible scenery. Does Ophion have a balcony you think only to chase those weird questions away and return to your room to get dressed and leave.

As you leave the dormitory and leave the school building a heavy hand lands on your shoulder unexpectedly.

“Hey-ho partner! Where are you going? Don’t you want to join us for some combat training?” Kengo stops you mid-track, his hand is firmly stuck on your shoulder and you can’t wriggle out from under his tight grip. The grin you see means he is up to no good again.

“Heyy! Actually, let’s get some snacks. We feel like we didn’t have the time to talk recently and I’m curious how the concerto was. Kengo said you got back really late yesterday?” Ryota is just next to him smiling innocently holding a bag of what looks like different colourful candies and crisps.

“Did he now?! And why are you here not at your room doing your penalty studies?!” Suddenly Shiro’s voice pierces the air loudly.

Kengo’s face goes pale.

“Oh crap! Sorry partner gotta run! Catch you later yes? I want the juicy details!”

“Me too!” Ryota tries to catch up with Kengo who left a trail of dust behind him.

You raise your thumb up to Shiro and wave. You can see him smile at you and then you get a message on the App.

“Stay out of trouble, OK?”

“I will.” You reply and press send. As you arrive at the Ophion tower with plenty of time to spare and make your way to the security reception.

“Hi, I’m here to see Ophion. He… is expecting me.” You say nervously.

A completely uninterested transient measures you for a second and then lets you in. “Yes, we have been told.” With relief, you direct your steps following the route Melusine told you which is the executive walkway that is almost always empty and takes an elevator. In your mind surprise visit would be out of place, especially since Ophion is not any man and may be occupied. The corridors around are lavishly decorated and you feel slightly out of place. But finally, the elevator arrives and you step into it.

Pondering why there is always a piece of weird music whenever you go to the office buildings a slight shake resonates around you. Unsure if it was just your imagination or something else you squeeze yourself into the corner. Another floor beeped before your eyes, and as you were counting down, only three more to go, everything starts shaking around you. Whatever is happening knocks you off your feet and you land painfully on the floor. At the same time, the elevator slows down and stops. The lights around you suddenly go out and you hear and electricity creek followed by a metal one. Suddenly there is an empty feeling in your stomach and you painfully drop on the floor again. Panicking you somehow roll to the corner. The elevator must have dropped down but the safety break kicked in just in time. For what feels like an eternity you are in total darkness, unable to understand what’s going on, absolutely scared. And then blue safety lights turn on. Still scared you slowly climb up and try to use the help alarm button on the console and call for help. But there is no reply from anyone. So you try and press every floor button hoping you will be able to get out this way. And then the shaking starts again and instantly you cover in the corner hearing the elevator creek dangerously. It’s a situation your powers won’t do you any good and it feels like you stopped between floors too. You try the help button again. Nothing. You try again. The elevator creeks dangerously again and you start praying to anyone and anything for it to hold and the shaking to stop. Not sure but you think you hear an alarm and screams in the background. With what feels like the worst shake so far everything feels like liquid around you. Suddenly you hear a metal creek just a meter above you and the light blind you. For a moment you flicker your eyes looking at a huge silhouette before you. In the elevator door using all of his might is no other than Ophion covered in dust and grime.

“My beloved give me your hand!” He extends it to you and you gladly take it. Ophion who is extremely strong being an eternal dragon god lifts you out the elevator without any problem. Once you are out and on your own legs you embrace him as hard as you can. That was a horrible and scary experience. “I’m here, I’m here my beloved flower, and nothing is going to hurt you anymore.” He is completely surprised by your reaction and accepts the embrace without hesitation.

“I’m… I’m ok, thanks to you. What happened?” You ask.

“My beloved, we experienced consecutive shock waves. Much, much stronger than these before. Alarms are going through the whole city of Tokyo as we speak. You should thank Aizen here as he was the one who heard plead for help through the elevator device.”

Surprised you thank Aizen, who for once doesn’t look angry. He remains quiet and nods in response. Then you look back at Ophion.

“Are you ok?” You suddenly notice a scrape on his arm. There is no blood but still.

“Oh, my beloved you worry about me? My heart is touched beyond imagination.” He says still embracing you. “I am fine, it was just a few ceiling panels that fell on me. Nothing that can hurt this godly dragon. “

“Ophion, sir! Are you sure you are unhurt? Maybe we should finish this little scene and get into safety!” And the old Aizen is back, however his expression remained unchanged. Once he said that a group of security mobs appeared running toward them.

“Sir! We found you! It’s good you are unharmed sir! We have news!”

Ophion reluctantly lets you go, but won’t let you move away from the reach of his hands or wings.

“Report! What’s the situation? Are you evacuating the civilians? Are there any injuries? Where are the other tycoons?”

“Sir we have been informed by the security forces this was no ordinary shock, but it was caused by the world collision.” One of the mobsters has pointed at the windows. To your surprise, the Tokyo border wall from the harbour was gone stretching to an open sea covered with angry clouds. It wasn’t destroyed in the quake no, it just vanished due to the collision event.

“Where was the source of the earthquake located?” You open your mouth asking loudly. Your mind went straight into the geography lessons and then something else entirely.

“What?” The mobster asked stupidly.

“What the earthquake on land or at sea?” You repeat.

“My beloved, what are you thinking?” Ophion asked.

“If this world collision has temporarily exposed us to an open sea and there was an earthquake which happened at sea everyone in Tokyo is in grave danger. “

Aizen was the first one to get what you were saying.

“Tsunami! The god wave! If the harbour wall is gone the wave will flood the whole city, bottling up because of the border wall!” He turned pale as paper.

“We need to send a message to everyone who has the app! Tell them to go to higher ground!”

Suddenly Tsathoggua appeared from nowhere holding Melusine, breathing heavily.

“Oh, you are ok! Melusine said you were in the building. I was right to think…” He had to stop to breathe. ”I’m not getting any better at this.. huff.. huff.. I was right to think you will be where Ophion is.”

“I'm extremely sorry if my guidance has caused you any trouble young milord.”

“It’s Ok Melusine, you couldn’t have known something like this would happen.”

“Shut up everyone!” Aizen roared. “We need to warn everyone”

“What about the non-app users?” You ask immediately. “We can’t just hope they will be alright. We need to do something.”

“How much time do we have?” Tsathoggua asks still breathing heavily. You look at the long line of windows and with a shiver see a dark shadow on the horizon.

“We don’t have much. Look.” You say pointing at what you saw unconsciously squeezing your sword. Your sword. Then something hits you. A shiver travelled from the top of your head down to your toes. Something you saw earlier, something somebody told you earlier, something you have heard before. The music you have been hearing, It had words and until now you couldn’t understand them. These words were “In the day’s to come my darling, I shall love you, my child, I shall protect you with the power of my ethereal shield of light.” Feeling a warmth come from your sword you now understand those weren’t just idle lyrics. It was the words of a rule of a secret artefact. One of the 24 pieces of what was embedded in your sword. And the scene from your dreams was almost identical, but there is no falling star and an exploding mountain. But the wave remains. And it’s coming fast.

“Are you ok young friend?” Tsotsung pulls your sleeve, it seems everyone is looking at you. “You switched off suddenly.”

“My beloved, we need to get into the shelter.” Ophion insists.

“No.”

“No?” He is troubled and confused. “But my jewel-“ You interrupt him.

“I need to get to the harbour. I think I can stop the wave... I’m not sure how yet but if this is a collision event and it’s somehow connected with an error within the app once this is over everything should go back to normal, yes? I had dreams and in one for them, this was exactly what I saw.”

“Those are just wild speculations! Where are those idiotic ideas coming from?! There are innocent lives at stake and you are trying to play a stupid hero! How incredibly childish of you, I couldn’t expect anything else.” Aizen snarled at your words.

“Aizen leave now!” Ophion almost hit the man in anger.

“Tell us what do you want to do.” Melusine insisted, together her and Tsathoggua expressed will to help.

“Since I know you, your plans and crazy ideas never failed. I trust you friend. I will take you to the harbour.” Tsotsunga said putting on a brave face.

“No! My beloved, my jewel, my darling spouse. I want to help you. I will take you to the harbour, but you must tell me about your plan. We don’t have much time. The wave is almost upon the city!” Ophion stepped in front of you showing all of his protective nature, almost as if hearing others offer help before he instigated a change of mind. Maybe he felt less worthy.

“My sword contains the shard of another sacred relic which was the Etheral Shield of Light its rule was Protection against all. Or so I think… ” Ophion’s eyes grew wider as he listened to your words astounded. “I have a memory that’s been following me for weeks now. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. It’s like something within me knew such an event may happen!”

“My flower! My love!” Ophion was trembling. “You must tell me everything once this is over. Let us haste to the harbour. I will be with you and be behind you at every step.”

You nod silently.

“Let everyone know to find shelter above ground. Tsathoggua please try and reach Mr Triton and others who have any degree of command over water if they can help.”

“On it” Tsathoggua vanished within a split second. At the same moment, you felt a strong arm wrap around you tightly and suddenly you were in the air. Ophion flew out of the terrace next to where you were, taking you with him.

“My beloved, why have you not told me sooner? Why keep this as a secret! My heart is trembling knowing there is even a minute piece of you that feels what I feel toward you!”

“Ophion, We are flying-!” you gasp shocked by the sensation.

“Don’t you like it, my love? There was no other way to get us to the harbour fast enough.”

“If it wasn’t for the circumstances I probably would enjoy it, but I wasn’t ready! Next time ask!”

“I'm sorry my darling, my fiery flower, my spouse. But you haven’t answered my question. Whatever happens, I want to know.”

You fall silent for a moment trying to gather words for an answer.

“I... I wanted to know if it was really me or just the memory. And then when the accident in the TSA happened and Seth’s shadow transported us to a real desert where we spent days wandering, each night I would look at the sky looking for the Dragon constellation… and think about the melody. And each night I would think that although I barely know you, I would miss you even if I never met you.”

“Ooh... Ooh...!” Ophion the Golden Dragon was trembling so much you could feel the hands holding you shaking. “This trembling feeling within my soul is equal to Heaven and Earth's creation itself. Those words! It filled the loneliness in this weary heart that has grown for millennia within seconds! My beloved! You cannot imagine how happy I am right now. But first, let’s save this diamond of a city from disaster. “ Your journey through the skies didn’t last long and you set foot in the harbour, that was already full of people and transients. Each one of them in a line trying to control the incoming wall of water.

“Thank gods you are safe!” You hear Shiro’s voice, behind him is Kengo and Ryota. All running towards you.

“What are you all doing here?! It's dangerous!” You shout at them as you set your feet at the ground.

“Well partner that’s not how you should be welcoming your friends!” Kengo measures Ophion with a cold look. “Looks like you had an interesting way of getting here!”

“Ophion sir! Thank you for helping our friend and bringing him here!” Shiro slurs out to Ophion.

“How did you get here? Where is Tsatsunga? Is he OK?”

Ryota gesticulates at a tall building nearby. “He collapsed exhausted after transporting dozens here. Moritaka is with him right now. Shiro used his powers to get us and Mr. Triton here the minute we got the message.”

“Shiro! Are you ok after that?” You ask your friend who seems paler than usual.

“Yes, yes I am fine. I had a minor nose bleed but it stopped now.” He answers avoiding your stare. “I’m not sure what can we accomplish. A Tsunami is a force of nature, us app users and other Transient don’t seem to have any chance to stop it. This is going to be a massacre!” He keeps trying to rationalize.

“My sword contains a shard of another sacred relic, the Etheral Shield of Light its rule was Protection against all. I know it is going to work.”

“How do you know what? Is it something to do with that memory you said you kept having?” Shiro asked looking at you and then at the approaching wall of water. It was getting nearer and nearer and it didn’t look like the united forces of water relics were doing anything beyond slowing It down.

“Come on kids! Put your back into it! We have a whole city counting on us!” Mr Triton was shouting louder and louder.

You turn around to Ophion. “Can you protect the civilians and anyone who may get into the harm's way?”

“My darling love, Of course! Whatever your plan you need to be ready. I will help as much as I can. I shall call upon my children to be ready to lift anyone into the skies to protect them from the flood wave.” And he has done as he said lifting his sacred relic into the skies, and with a blast of light, dozens of wyverns filled the skies ready.

The tsunami wave was incoming faster now, filling the whole horizon, the sky darkened angrily. This must-have happened somewhere you think, at some time in the history. You think about that picture you saw.

“Shiro, I saw a painting of a tsunami wave, and there were a man and a ghost of a woman that was trying to stop it. What is the story of that painting.” You ask bracing yourself.

Shiro is quite stunned after you tell him this.

“You are talking about The Great Wave off Kanagawa, but there is no man or woman in that painting.”

“Great, so either I’m hallucinating or something else is happening.”

“What if the collision of the worlds started happening much earlier than we thought, and what you saw had something to do with it.”

“I’m thinking my resurfacing memory has something to do with the tsunami.”

Shiro nodded eagerly.

“Don’t you remember? It happened before that you remembered a forgotten part of your powers before during different events.”

“But this is different, this started happening weeks ago.” You say to him.

“Whatever happens Partner, we are here to help you. We will always have your back.” Kengo adds. “Let’s see what my fists can do against a wall of water.”

“I will be with you my friends, even if you take me to the scariest places in all of the 23 worlds.” Ryota yelps quietly. He is scared and shaking yet still with you.

“Oh, gods it’s coming!” Somebody shouted! Screams started getting louder, some transients panicked and run and Mr Triton started having issues controlling the speed of the incoming wave. You could feel an unearthly rumble as the wall of water was before you.

You felt ready. You were ready, you had to be.

”Role of Wanderer, Rule of Rending! Engrave mine name onto thee Come out, Boundless Tail!!”

But nothing happened. Nothing at all. Your swords shone its normal light, but there was nothing your power could affect.

“No, no! This is not right! I know I can do something!”

Ophion lay his hand on your shoulder. “We must go now, my love!”

“No! I know I can help! I just… The song! The words were: In the day’s to come my darling, I shall love you, my child, I shall protect you with the power of my ethereal shield of light.” You panic seeing the wave almost upon on you, glancing over everyone.

Ophion gives away an odd laugh that seems so out of place right now.

“My dearest, you are calling upon the wrong artefact! You must call upon the rule of protection! With the memory this strong it means it has a power of its own over your sacred artefact.”

You turn back to the wave in fear.

“Role of the guardian, Rule of protection! Engrave my name unto thee! Come forth Ethereal shield of light!” But still, nothing happens.

But you don’t give up concentrating even more with your eyes closed. “ Rule of protection! Engrave my name unto thee! Come forth Ethereal shield of light!” There is still nothing.

Feeling the water droplets on your hair and screams around you shout again one last time. “ Role of the guardian, Rule of protection! Engrave my name unto thee! Come forth Ethereal shield of light!” Suddenly a force so powerful hits your body as something has torn the flesh out of your bones. The wall of light emanating out of your swords is so bright you can’t even physically keep your eyes open as and the vibration of the blade is almost breaking the bones in your hand. But you hold it tight as a wall extends in every direction. You know it’s the shield of light, the same one the goddess Euronome used to protect her children during the war of gods, the same she used on Olympos to protect those innocent around her dragged into the war of Titans. You feel your body strength failing and drop on one knee feeling tremendous pain. But there is a dozen of hands suddenly holding your back keeping you from falling. You hear so many voices, calling upon so many rules. You hear Mr Triton calling his rule, you hear Ophion shouting out commands to the Wyverns at the ready to help in an evacuation, You hear Ryota providing healing to others and yourself.

“You can do it, my child. Hold on just a little longer!” Somebody, a woman whispers to your ear. You will try as much as you can, but there is blood going down your nose. The force you are against may just kill you. But you don’t care hearing the words of Mr Mononobe in your head over and over intertwined with the song. “Prove yourself that you are not just a hero in the App. Prove you can defend those innocent from forces far greater than any battle.” With your hands in so much pain, you don’t know if you will be ever able to move your fingers again, with no sounds coming to you because you think your eardrums exploded and the blood is dripping down your neck the strength of your body finally fails you and collapse into darkness.

In your dreams, you hear and see many things, and the beautiful watercolour world around you dances gently and suddenly a slender figure emerges from the kaleidoscope of colours.

“Well done my child, you have done it. I’m so proud of you.” The woman speaks to you, her voice feels like it is coming from far away.

“Are you-?” You ask without words spoken.

“I am. Or I may be, or I may be just the figment of your imagination. After all, you exhausted your frail body greatly.” She responds with a crystal laugh.

“I thought you would be…” You start but she stops you.

“A dragon? Like my husband? Ahahaha… We were born beyond such boundaries, unconcerned by shape.”

“You are strong for one who has such a great burden on them. I only hope you are strong enough for all the challenges awaiting you. “ She continues. “ As for what is perplexing you, it’s not the memory of me that’s keeping your mind confused, it never was.”

“Am I falling for a god then?” You ask, although unsure if you did but the words resonate anyway. Realizing you won’t have any secrets here.

“Haha-!” The woman laughs warm. “And what if yes? What burdens does it bring to you?”

“Ophion is a bit much. He is a god, a godly dragon… and…”

“And what of it my child? Give yourself and him a chance. Remember he is the father of all in our world, and his golden heart is pure, and his love eternal. Yes, he has spent millennia without a force to restrain his fatherly ego, and in loneliness. Such things would poison any mind. What you witnessed, in your last dream was the moment of my fall… and the moment his heart broke… “ She added sadly. “I am sorry this somehow has influenced your world.”

“It’s time for you to wake up my child. Beware thou, the Rule of the Guardian is not one to be taken lightly as it is a burden that will exhaust your body beyond the boundaries of this peculiar prison everyone is tied to.”

“Can I ask you-!” You suddenly try to find where the voice is coming as the woman seems to have disappeared. Only to approach you from behind and whisper to your ear “Wake up”.

You were in a hospital room, your head still dizzy and the sounds coming to you weren’t completely normal. “So everything truly happened.” You lift a hurting hand trying to reach to your ear but it is still painful. So that’s how physical pain feels like compared to a memory of it from the app. Then you notice Ophion on a large chair next to you. How odd it looks having him here, his large frame bigger than any human, sleeping so peacefully. He must have taken a nap while being here. And then he gave out a gentle snore making you laugh quietly to yourself. It didn’t take him long to wake up and yawn revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” You greet him with a smile.

“My beloved! Forgive me, with so much going on I didn’t have the time to sleep at all.” He looked at you with his dark ember red eyes.

“How long has it been?”

“You slept for almost three days my jewel. How are you feeling? The healers here said your body needs rest. It was hard to explain to them what exactly ailed you since the App injuries seem to be beyond the comprehension of your medicine.”

“My head is still tired, and my body aches but I’m better. So… we have done it. The city is safe?” You ask with a weary voice.

Ophion shifts on his chair leaning towards you.

“Yes my darling spouse, everything is back to normal. It seems your conclusion was correct, my beloved, and after the wave of water was stopped the glitch in the app caused by the world collision cleared itself out. With one exception. World collisions don’t function as app battles, and some physical damage caused by the quake remained, but nobody was hurt.”

“I'm so happy everyone is ok.” You let out the words with relief.

“Yes, yes, my wonderful flower. My children scouted the city to help while you were resting. Your friends will be here shortly I assume. But before that, I need to tell you, my love, no, I need to ask you to promise me not to do anything like that ever again! It was brave but foolish! I, your husband will sacrifice my body for you If I have to! You should never endanger yourself! Not in this frail form! I could not bear losing you again! My beloved, you must promise me! If you won’t I will have to come up with a plan to perhaps enslave you temporarily whenever danger is near to stop you from running toward it.” Ophion is back being himself, with his voice booming across the room.

“You want to enslave me to stop me from getting hurt?”

“In the most comfortable of ways my love!” He adds quickly.

“You know you snore? I’m going to tell everyone if you even think about locking me up somewhere!” You tease him.

“My darling spouse you wouldn’t-!”

And you just thought you have a secret weapon flashing a cheeky smile at him.

You found yourself staring at the elevator door at the Ophion Tower waiting for it to arrive. It’s been a few days now since the event and you are back on your feet. Of course, this goes without saying you got into trouble at school which Mr Mononobe was willing to turn a blind eye as long as you attend a few extracurricular lessons with him to make sure you caught up with all of the lessons you missed. But this Friday evening you were only thinking to yourself “I just hope I'm not going to embarrass myself”. The weather outside has taken a dramatic turn with a heavy downpour forcing you to rethink your plans. The elevator doors finally open, still with a bit of a fright after the last time you enter and purposely press the floor just below your destination. Closing your eyes for a few seconds you await the familiar sound and yes, you are here. As the door opens you exit with relief with. It was Melusine who told you to skip a floor, claiming you may walk into Aizen. She was right, as you approached the staircase you hear a loud marching noise and a very annoyed monologue.

“I can’t believe my beloved sir Ophion send me away! Me! His loyal servant! To meet this stupid brat! I will find a way! I will! The embarrassment! How dare he!”

“Oh dear,” You think to yourself waiting for the man to disappear and then you walk up the staircase. With each step, it feels harder to walk as if somebody would be adding sand to your burden. But you made a promise, and as nerve-wracking this is you knocked on the door. And there he was. Ophion opened, with his huge silhouette filling the door frame. You just realized they probably had to enlarge all entryways just for him. Unlike his usual clothes, he was wearing a black shirt that was fully pinned up which somehow felt odd.

“My beloved! Please enter. Welcome to my private chambers, that not many have the right to enter! You look unearthly today.” He says trying to sway you as always.

“Hi… You… look different?” You hesitate. “It’s a good different, but I never saw you buttoned up.”

Ophion laughs loudly.

“My darling, I, your husband still need to run a business. But if it pleases you I can change in something more attractive to your eyes? Yes, my love?” You can feel your ears burning.

“You are impossible.” You reply.

“Ah my beloved, of course, I am impossible, I am the godly dragon beloved by all,” Ophion responds with his typical smile and a wink. You are sure he didn’t understand what you meant.

“My flower, my love, I wasn’t sure if you were hungry or thirsty so I asked some refreshments to be brought up. And yes, my spouse, the items you asked to be delivered here were left untouched. You think I wouldn’t notice?” He teases you.

With a pounding heart you think to yourself “Well, this is a moment of truth”. And you approach the boxes that have the projector and your guitar case.

“I’m not hungry right now. And…” Ophion stares at you intensively. “Can we spread some pillows on the floor to sit down?” You ask hesitating.

“Anything you want my love.” As odd it feels you and him take some pillows of the elegant sofas that are within the living area of the apartment and move the furniture away to make more sitting space. You ask Ophion to sit and make himself comfortable, and with amusement you watch the dragon take his time to awkwardly sit on the floor, he smiles like a giddy child to you all the time. You take out the projector and place it on the floor and then uncase your guitar. Finally, you kneel in front of Ophion who is with great anticipation is observing your every move. There is something in his dark amber eyes you can’t quite place or name.

“Right… I feel nervous and embarrassed.” You say out loud.

“My beloved, why would you be? There is nobody here beyond us.”

“I’m nervous because you are here.” You repeat.

“My darling spouse, I’m confused.” He reaches out and grabs your hand with his. It’s very warm on your skin.

“So… I wanted to see you because I have something for you. A gift let’s call it. It’s the memory I’ve been having, and I wanted to reconstruct it for you somehow.”

“Oh, oh-! My beloved, my heart is shaking. Did you go to so much trouble… for me? Your Ophion?” He smiles openly.

“Can we dim down the lights?” You ask.

“But my dearest jewel, are you sure the floor will be comfortable enough, what about the bedroom-!”

“Ophion!” You protest loudly before he can finish.

“I apologize, my beloved! But you made it so easy…” He sticks out his tongue and does as you request diming down the lights in the living area, not completely dark but enough to what you wanted to do.

“Because mother-nature has been fickle today and I can’t do what I wanted I thought I will present you with something.” You say like a magician preparing the audience for a magic trick.

“Oh my starling jewel, I cannot contain my excitement, I-!” He starts but you interrupt him.

“I give you the stars on a night’s sky.” You say and turn on the start projector. The device lights up the entire room with hundreds of constellations, and stars from all over our galaxy, gently moving to simulate the motion of a night sky above us. With that you pick up your guitar, and gently settle yourself in front of Ophion, with your back towards him, almost touching his chest feeling the heat of his body, but far enough not to touch him while playing.

“In this memory, I would sit like this and play an instrument very much like this and you were listening.” You say lowering your voice as you start gently pulling the nylon strings. Although in his memory the melody was played on an ancient lyre, you were able to easily reproduce it on a classical guitar with almost identical quality. The first few notes came out a bit harsh but once the nerves went away the melody flew gently and pleasantly in the night air with the stars above you. It felt magical and you didn’t want it to stop. Surprisingly you felt Ophion reach-out to you and slowly wrap his large, solid arms around you and place his head on your shoulder. It didn’t stop you from playing at all, it just made your heart beat faster and harder. The melody wasn’t long at all and it was easy to repeat in an infinite loop, perhaps even it was created that way.

“I know it’s not much but I wanted this to be a gift to you.” You say softly still playing.

“Oh my world, you need not say anything, this is the mo1st beautiful of gifts you have ever given me and I wish it wouldn’t stop. Among these riches that surround us, this is the only thing worth cherishing” Ophion says smiling with his head still on your shoulder.

“I’m happy you think so.” You add and after a moment of thinking you turn your head and kiss his cheek, feeling the gentle giant tremble as you do it.

END

#ophion #housamo #TAS #toko afterschool summoners #tokyoafterschoolsummoners #fanfiction

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